#anyway the idea kept me up the other night and I don't usually write angst so hopefully it pushes the right buttons

[espinosaurusrexex]

Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)

word count: 16.4k 😬

warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!

ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket. 

Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.

Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster. 

It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes. 

"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."

Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.

The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other. 

Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"

Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."

Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."

"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."

Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him. 

“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side. 

“Never?”

Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."

Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.

❁ ❁ ❁

The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk. 

Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”

“No...”

“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them. 

Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.” 

“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold. 

“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room. 

“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.” 

“Now that’s bullshit.”

“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”

Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that. 

“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do. 

“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”

Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?” 

Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling. 

Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job. 

“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude. 

“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”

And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision. 

What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them. 

Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now. 

Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year. 

There was just one problem. 

He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes. 

Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist. 

So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again. 

The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event. 

Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem. 

Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.

Well, that had to change now. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors. 

“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”

Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail. 

“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”

“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”

Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor. 

“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well. 

“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.  

Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”

Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought. 

“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”

“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”

“Alright, Sir.”

“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye. 

“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant. 

Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.

❁ ❁ ❁

The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them. 

The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in. 

He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water. 

“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”

He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward. 

“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”

“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.

“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”

“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless. 

“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”

“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.

“Pardon me?”

You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”

“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”

“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”

“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.

“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours. 

He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.” 

“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to. 

“Wait you’re working for SPS?” 

“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body. 

Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again. 

“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden. 

You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating. 

“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind. 

“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile. 

Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you. 

“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready. 

“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.  

Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys. 

“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it. 

“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”

“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”

Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic. 

It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future. 

Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them. 

Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.

“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.

“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder. 

“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.

❁ ❁ ❁

The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world. 

To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea. 

“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?

Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.

Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen. 

“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.” 

Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.” 

Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office. 

She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”

“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant. 

Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary. 

“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”

He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”

“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”

Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”

“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”

Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.” 

And so you did. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen. 

It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh. 

‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’ 

Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat. 

You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened. 

There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.

“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside. 

Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet. 

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”

“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly. 

“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath. 

“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”

Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that. 

“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.” 

Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal. 

Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation. 

“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato. 

“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”

Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been. 

Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer. 

After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises. 

There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.

On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.

He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door. 

Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain. 

“He’s very admirable for that.” 

You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”

The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”

“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”

The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional. 

“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face. 

“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“

“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep. 

“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”

You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now. 

“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head. 

“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“

“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”

“Doll...”

“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.” 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside. 

You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar. 

“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”

The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous. 

“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.

“How do you know?”

You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought. 

“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”

He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop. 

“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled. 

“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home. 

It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.

So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right. 

In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.  

A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod. 

“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.

“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table. 

“That bad, huh?”

His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown. 

“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”

Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.” 

“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.

He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”

Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”

Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”

“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing. 

“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day. 

A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.

About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched. 

“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”

The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?

And honestly? You didn’t know. 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”

“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?” 

Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known. 

By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand. 

The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.

You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower. 

“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home. 

“How?”

“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes. 

Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...” 

You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest. 

Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.

After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek. 

When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself. 

“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”

Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”

❁ ❁ ❁

To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him. 

You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen. 

It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug. 

Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer. 

“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.

“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed. 

“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”

Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”

“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture. 

Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”

“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.

And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away. 

Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking. 

Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body. 

“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”

“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all. 

“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly. 

“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”

A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”

Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it. 

Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”

You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless. 

You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.  

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day. 

But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You. 

“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence. 

“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair. 

Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided. 

A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”

He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him. 

Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you. 

That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him. 

It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you. 

Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day. 

“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve. 

“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”

“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”

Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us. 

“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind. 

He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture. 

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.

“Always.”

“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.

Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”

“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”

How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve. 

“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face. 

“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.

“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed. 

They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”

“What?” He faced him again. 

“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”

“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected. 

“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”

Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered. 

He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you. 

With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same. 

❁ ❁ ❁

There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again. 

Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew. 

“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.  

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent. 

“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.” 

“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”

Oh, hell no.

“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”

“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”

A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”

“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”

“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”

Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer. 

“Name one.”

“Me.”

The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?” 

Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?

Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”

Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again. 

“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”

Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.

❁ ❁ ❁

“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet. 

“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight. 

“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.

“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head. 

“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”

About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile. 

“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla. 

“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat. 

“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”

You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”

“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop. 

“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?” 

“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”

You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”

“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name. 

“How did you know?”

His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”

“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile. 

"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.

“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”

Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”

Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”

Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”

You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.

You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted. 

“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.

❁ ❁ ❁

“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”

“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth. 

“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again. 

Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings. 

“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!

Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions. 

It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.

“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”

“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”

“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”

“No.”

Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire. 

“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time. 

Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future. 

He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed. 

“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky. 

“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out. 

“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away. 

Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them. 

Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”

“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off. 

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”

What the actual fuck?

“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now. 

“Look at you growing all protective.”

“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth. 

A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it. 

“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”

And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”

“What?”

“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.

“Is... is this about the other day?”

Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”

“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”

There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.

“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.

“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”

Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it. 

Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city? 

But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”

A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement. 

“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose. 

He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours. 

Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.

Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer. 

You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint. 

Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect. 

“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him. 

You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating. 

But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans. 

“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath. 

In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear. 

If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you. 

Why?

Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time. 

So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”

“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you. 

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.

Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips. 

After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern. 

“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise. 

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”

And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.

He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him. 

“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”

You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them. 

“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.

You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers. 

“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”

You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest. 

He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy. 

“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.

“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”

“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up. 

“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap. 

“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”

“Why?”

“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it. 

“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.” 

“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”

“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.

You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip. 

He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”

“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal. 

Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then. 

You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit. 

Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult. 

It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you. 

Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy. 

“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”

“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head. 

“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”

“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back. 

“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.

“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.” 

Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his. 

The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs. 

His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer. 

This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth. 

He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of. 

“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy. 

You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”

Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”

You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:

Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞

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also tagging my steve tags (for everyone who wanted an update on Bambi) 🤗 :

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

[plutolovesyou]

how soon is now? | part two

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

previous chapter. series masterlist.

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: the long-awaited second part of this godforsaken fic (lawd she’s given me trouble). appreciate y'all's patience as always, i'm a chronic procrastinator and perfectionist but what can i do. after this, i'm gonna take a break from this series. not saying i'll never write more, but wanna work on some other stuff for a while. thank you for reading! pretty please don’t hate me or show up at my house waving torches and pitchforks for this ending ok luv u gays in my phone. + a big thank you to @total-dxmure for helping me w/ some ideas for the last little bit!

♧:5.7k word count (lawd)

◇: sfw! miscommunication (sawry). fluffy moments, angst lowkey…both of yall cry at one point or another, reader has anxiety in the last chunk. modern au but joel isn’t alive in this, and they discuss it. maybe some rushed points here and there, i’m not really the proudest of this but needed to finish it anyway. potentially horrendous pacing but ok i think that’s all? idfk i may give y’all a little epilogue eventually, but don't dwell on it for the time being!

4 months later 

Your friendship with Ellie was evolving wonderfully. You two were studying together frequently, and both your grades in the ghastly astrophysics class increased exponentially. Although that wasn't the only thing that was increasing at a rate too fast to fathom. Your crush on her. It was ripping you apart like wildfire, Ellie was proving herself to be such a wonderful person inside and out, and you were slowly but surely nearing your limit of how much it could build before you burst. A movie spin off of the Savage Starlight series had come to streaming, and Ellie had invited you to her place for a movie night so you two could watch it and discuss if it was a faithful entry in your beloved series or not. 

Dressed in some comfortable pjs and armed with snacks of all kinds, your favorites as well as hers, the time had come and you were at her door. You straighten your posture and put your hair back in place, must look presentable, then knock, knock, knock.

You could hear some faint shuffling behind the door, then a few thudding steps until she opened it for you. She was dressed in an old, worn Nirvana tee, and red checkered pajama pants, damn she looked good, even when she was dressed with less effort than usual. 

Ellie looked so pleased to see you, leaning on the doorframe. Why did she have to look so good all the time? “Hi! I’m so glad you came, ooh this is gonna be so fun.” She invited you in and took the snacks from your arms and placed them inside her room. “Oh yeah, I also put up some decor too so we can get into the Savage Starlight spirit.” Her eyes were wide and twinkling and when she stepped aside to let you see, she really had made her room so welcoming and comfortable.  

The lights were all off save for LEDs around the room’s perimeter set to a dreamy violet hue, sparkly fairy lights draped around the frame of her bed which was set up so cozily. Her laptop propped up on a pillow, the sheets arranged in a nest-like formation with two spaces for each of you. She even had a few dinosaur stuffed animals placed in a row so they could watch too.

You were so flattered she'd do that and make the atmosphere so nice for the two of you, you could just tackle her in a hug and never let go.

The thing is you were scared she'd perceive that as weird and you didn't feel like dying of embarrassment, not today at the very least. Save that for another day, maybe. Oh, how you wanted to squeeze her so bad. Your imagination had to do for now. 

She was standing there so proud of how she arranged her room into a mini theater, and you beamed at her, silently thanking her for making it so dim so she couldn't see your flustered expression in full.

“Ellie this is amazing!!” “You like it?!? These stupid lights kept on falling off but since this is an important occasion for us both I didn't give up. All for our love, Daniela.” She manipulated her voice and waved in the air with two fists, closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, just being as dorky as ever.

Oh gosh, hopefully it wasn't going to be awkward. Sure, the two of you had grown to be great friends, but were you that close to be just, relaxing in her bed together? As long as your imagination didn't run too wild and you didn't overthink anything, it was going to be a fun time. Just two pals watching their favorite series, nothing more, nothing less.

She threw herself in the mess of comforters with a grunt, and saw you were hesitating. She patted the empty space next to her so you'd join her and the movie night could begin. “C’mere, don't be shy.” Well, no shit you were going to be shy. Suck it up. 

You crawled in next to her, unable to look her in the eyes, while she got everything ready and rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Man, if they do our girl dirty, we’re gonna have to give someone a knuckle sandwich, you with me?” Her jokes and easy going vibes always made her so fun to be around, but unfortunately for you, you fell harder for her every time. “Yeah, Ellie. A knuckle sandwich for all of them.” You retorted with a chuckle. Once both of you were settled, she pressed play and so it began.

As the movie played, the two of you laughed and debated every plot twist, cursing the directors for not portraying your queen Daniela how she deserves, and snacked on candy until your stomachs hurt. It was going so well, the friendly hang out both of you needed after so many responsibilities in life. An escape. Occasionally sneaking peeks Ellie’s way, she was just so marvelously pretty. The shadows dancing on her features, illuminating her side profile perfectly, her long eyelashes and button nose, who wouldn't get lost in admiring her?

Of course you could never fully relax around her, or forget the crush no matter how hard you tried to push it down and just be friends. Every time she shifted next to you in the bed you felt your heart seize and the butterflies in your stomach turn into hornets. At this rate, they were going to turn into whole birds for fuck’s sake.

Nearing the end of the movie, the two of you were so invested, so captivated in the events, totally spellbound.

But then the film took a more emotional turn that wasn't in the comics. Daniela and her father had an absolutely vicious argument which left the two of you speechless watching it, which luckily got quickly resolved right after the two characters had a near-death experience together.

You weren't one to get emotional over silly, trivial things like fiction, but the way they showed this entire sequence was nothing short of heart-wrenching. You snatched up one of Ellie's patterned pillows and hugged it tightly to your chest, because cuddling her would have been much too bold for the likes of you. But what you’d give to do that instead.

Seems you were not the only one touched by the scene, as you began to hear some light sniffling from next to you. Looking over at Ellie made your heart break further into a million pieces. She looked lost in thought with thin lines of tears streaming down her plump, freckled cheeks. 

You froze for a moment, not knowing the limits of your relationship with her and how you could comfort her best. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “That was so sad…” You watched as she avoided your gaze and wiped at her face with the collar of her t-shirt, “Yeah, this kind of stuff hits me, feels a little personal y’know.” She has never opened up to you about her struggles before, in the short time you’ve known and gotten close with Ellie, it always seemed like she was there to help you out, not the other way around. This could be your chance to show her that you are there for her as well, and that she can always count on you.

Being curious but at the same time not wishing to pry too much into her private affairs, you quietly asked with the most gentle tone of voice you could muster,” You don’t have to, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about it, Ellie.” You watched her out of the corner of your eye, anticipating however she reacts.

She stayed quiet for a beat before sighing deeply, and whispered, “We were having a fun time, I really don't wanna be a burden.” Her voice quivered, heavy with emotion, what could possibly be troubling her this much? You wanted to take all her pain and bear it yourself, she didn't deserve any sort of misfortune ever.

“You can tell me, don’t worry about anything, okay? I just want you to be all good.” You were comforting her so smoothly, putting her needs and well-being first as if it was always second nature, as if you two have known each other many lifetimes over, two souls meant to float together through the journey of life. Well okay, that was probably a bit much.

There were a few more seconds of silence as you let the question ring in the air, not wanting to press and jeopardize your cherished friendship with her. 

You continue observing her, almost seeing the gears turning in her mind, the scales of reason tipping to one side then another, as she contemplates whether it’s worth spilling. Eventually, she does.

She roughly rubs her face then pauses the film playing on her laptop, sighs and huffs, before beginning to speak her story, all while looking away from you.

“Okay I don’t like to talk about this kind of stuff, but I trust you. A whole lot.” Your heart fluttered and face heated up at her comment, but you ignored it because there was something much more important on the table now. She continues, speaking quietly but quickly to get it over with. 

“So, when I was a kid, I was an orphan and to be honest I don’t really remember my early childhood much at all, but when I was 14 my adoptive dad, Joel, took me in. And it’s been just us since then.” She stops to take a breath, then resumes reluctantly. “And well, we’ve had a pretty rocky relationship for a good chunk of these years, I never knew how to express my gratitude to him, y’know, for basically saving my life, numerous times at that. He was always my rock, and I appreciate him every day. He taught me so many things, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t come around. I was pretty hard to deal with back then.” She reminisces with an exhale of air, and you see her eyes refill with tears. “But I’m really bad at expressing that, and will kinda, lash out I guess when I’m met with kindness or tricky situations.” 

You nod, listening patiently, and place your hand on her shoulder ever so gently, as a result making her raise her head to give you a small smile. 

Ellie chuckled deeply, it almost sounded forced, then started to slowly wrap up her story. “And it seems that scene kinda hit me, because the wounds are still raw, or whatever.” 

She sniffles again but doesn't respond, so you delicately inquire, “What do you mean?”

“He died last year.” Oof.

“Oh my, Ellie, I’m so sorry, are you-” She interrupts your condolences. “No need for that, I’m fine. Well, taking it day by day y’know. In the beginning it was really tough, I was angry at everything but most at myself for being such a jerk, and now I can't turn back time and tell him all I wanted to.” While you take a moment to think about what to say, she hums to herself and remarks, “That actually felt good to get off my chest, I haven't told anyone about it.” She lowers her voice so it’s barely a whisper. “Didn't have who to tell.”

“Sure you're okay? I'm always here for you.” You find your voice back to soothe her some more, to which she smiles at you again, only this time it actually seems genuine. There's definitely a lot of pain behind it, but the relief that she doesn't have to deal with the burden alone was evident on her face. 

“Yeah, thanks. I guess I hadn’t processed anything, and that part of the movie made it all come out, damn I hate emotions sometimes. But I appreciate you being here for me. You're really easy to talk to, and I feel better now.” 

And you would've never in a trillion years anticipated what her next move was going to be, you were so caught off guard, the realization lagged and it didn't immediately register. 

She moved to sit on her knees in front of you, then threw her arms around your torso in a tight embrace. She hugged you. Clutched you so firmly against her own body, her strong hands landing in the middle of your back, where she rubbed in a circle. She smelled so nice, and was as warm as one of her heated stuffed animals. 

Due to the surprising nature of the motion you let out a dumbfounded gasp, then returned the hug allowing yourself to rest your head on her shoulder. You wanted to stay like this forever, until the end of time, it felt nicer than you could've ever imagined.

The thought crossed your mind that she could feel the buzz pulsating through your body, you swore your heart was slamming against your ribcage so hard it was going to grow wings and simply fly right out of your chest, and join hands with hers.

While you were occupied with the way she felt against you, so close like this, chest against chest, and how your cheeks blazed with an inferno hotter than a thousand suns, you heard her grumble against your ear. “Not gonna make that same mistake again, and from now on, I'm gonna tell the people I appreciate just how much they matter to me.”

You were much too stunned to speak, but she wasn't. “So thank you again.” She finishes her little speech and pulls away first, but not before giving you one last big squeeze and letting out a noise of contentment as she does so, then shuffles over to her previous spot in the bed. 

Not taking notice of the way you were at a loss for words, or about to set the room on fire with how flustered her actions made you. Her obliviousness was a common theme, it seemed. She clears her throat and claps, grabbing some more candy for herself, then says happily, “We still got the rest of the movie left, then we can do whatever after. I really wanna know how this ends.”

Naturally, your head is spinning, but you were too caught up in your thoughts to continue paying attention to the movie as much as you were before.

You felt awful for her, yet somehow, felt as if your crush on her had quadrupled in size yet again. You saw through the guard she put up, she broke down those walls and opened up to you. You were honored she trusted you so much, and only hoped that would never change. That, coupled with how remarkably good hugs she gave, has led you to the realization that you were properly in love now, things had gotten real. This was trouble. You vowed to always be there for her for whatever she could ever need, you'd drop everything to teleport by her side if you could. 

Goodness, what were you possibly going to do now, instead of giving you the ick, or helping you with the task of getting rid of that stupid infatuation you were so plagued by, every experience felt like a deliberate ploy to just make you fall even further for her. You couldn't help but wonder just how much love a person can feel for someone, because it only continued to grow. 

A couple days later.

Sitting in the cozy campus cafe, you were revising all your coursework. It was giving you a massive headache, but the warm and hazy lighting aided it a touch. The walls had cute plastic vines crawling up and down, and even though there was chatter all around you from the other patrons, it wasn't a distraction and in fact acted as some sort of white noise, everyone was talking in a nicely muted tone, it all blended to create the perfect ambience. 

You waved down the waitress to get yet another cup of coffee, your third one of the night, that’s healthy, before trying to resume with your aggravating studies. 

To your dismay, you've used up all your brain power for the evening, and could not force yourself to continue no matter how hard you tried. Maybe a few moments of peaceful people-watching would get you back on track?

You sip on the hot drink, then lean back against the comfortable booth seat to begin scanning around.

In one corner directly on the opposite side of where you were sitting, there was an elderly couple. They looked so in love, dressed in matching outfits, feeding each other as they shared a dessert, holding hands and conversing with a hushed tone, nodding and looking into each other's twinkling eyes. So cute, you hoped that was going to be you in the future. 

Moving your line of sight to watch beside the couple, there was another student, their books and computer were scattered across the wooden table, piles of pens and pencil cases near falling over. They seemed to have fallen asleep, unmoving with their head laid tiredly across their crossed arms. The sight made you chuckle out of familiarity, you really felt for them, studies were hard. 

But then a sound caught your attention. A bright, husky giggle fought its way over the ambience, reminiscent of a certain someone. 

Your heart jumped, your ears perked up and you immediately became insistent on scouting her out among the patrons, this was a necessary mission. 

Feeling highly nervous and antsy, you try to drown out the noise and focus on where she could be, and quickly enough, you find her.

Ellie in her natural habitat, she was so mesmerizing. Sitting far away from you where you could get a good view and hear snippets of conversation if you focused hard enough, but not close enough where she would notice your shameless gawking. She was sitting with a group of a handful of her friends, who all appeared to be gossiping and laughing with each other, you couldn't tear your eyes away.

Her smile was gorgeous, and you knew that, but there was something about just being a spectator which fascinated you, you could stare at her all day. Her energy lit up the entire room, and made your heart race.

Snapping out of your trance and trying to not be so obvious with your staring, you tried to look occupied, tried reorganizing your notes while still keeping an ear out to listen. Occasionally glancing over as  well. Yes, it's true that eavesdropping is wrong, but you couldn't help yourself. Anyone would do the same, right?

The group's passionate discussion was making you extremely curious however, and you strained to hear what they were talking about. Among the muffled chatter, you heard a woman’s voice say the word crush, then an outburst of laughter, the loudest guffaw from Ellie herself. 

You felt the budding panic start to form in your chest momentarily, but swallowed the lump forming in your throat and took a sharp intake of breath to calm yourself at once. They could be talking about anything, there's no need to jump to conclusions just yet. Fumbling around your bag for your headphones to listen to some of the song recommendations Ellie had given you, you’re led to discover that they are, in fact, dead. Of course. 

Despite any and all wishes to stop eavesdropping on them and mind your own business and abide by what they say, ignorance is bliss, you simply couldn't. She was too damn captivating. Like a painting in a museum, like a statue at a town’s center, one that people stopped in their tracks to admire. 

The way her eyes sparkled and gleamed under the warm lighting, her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue from the exertion of laughing so hard, her sweet smile. She was too perfect. God, you hated crushes, being infatuated with someone to this degree couldn't be healthy. But what could you do? Just look at this angel.

Fidgeting nervously while still being entranced by the group of friends, you heard a man’s voice say the words “there’s no way”, followed by Ellie howling even harder than she had the whole time you've been watching them, and punch him forcefully on the shoulder. 

The curiosity was going to swallow you whole, it was like a car crash you couldn't look away from. You felt your palms begin to tremble and sweat with worry, and anxious assumptions of all kinds running through your mind, were they talking about you? No, they couldn't be, you're just overthinking it. Relax, relax, relax.

You tried your hardest to control your breathing and soothe your spinning mind so you wouldn't spiral, until you heard something that absolutely shook you to your core.

The same woman from before, not Ellie, in a highly teasing tone of voice said your name.

You felt frozen, this couldn't be happening. All your worst fears were coming true at this very moment. You had to get out of there right away, this was too much to bear. Curiosity really did kill the cat didn't it, you wished you didn't comply with the morbid desire to know everything. 

Panic-stricken like a deer in headlights, near hyperventilating at this point, the final straw was all three of them erupting into laughter simultaneously, with Ellie through gasps, going "oh come onnnn”.

Yeah that was it. Hot tears started pricking your eyes and you vigorously blinked them away before they started streaming down your face, as if you needed to be humiliated even more. You felt sadded, torn apart, betrayed. Sick to your stomach too. This time, for once, you really thought you had something going for you. From your perspective, albeit through rose-colored glasses, you were convinced she was being genuine with you all this time. How could you not be? 

The late night study sessions, the air thick with tension, the conversations draped in a sleep-deprived haze, the walks to class together, the first fated interaction, the looks you two shared from across the huge lecture hall; the looks where you two just knew when to share a glance, was all of that fake? Was she leading you on purposefully because her friends thought it was funny, that you were a joke?

The tears threatened to spill and your stomach twisted painfully with the world-shattering realizations you were just served with, and you angrily shoved your belongings in your bag.

You were too caught up in your panicked frenzy to notice how disruptive you were actually being, your textbooks thumping and keychains jingling, but frankly didn't care enough to meet the numerous pairs of eyes observing your misfortune. Who could blame you, your whole world and everything you've known just crumbled before you. 

You slung your bag over your shoulder noisily as a choked sob made its way up your throat, then speed-walked out of that cafe. You were never going to be able to go in there again unfortunately, shame, their pastries were so good.

Right as you tried to step through the door it got stuck, because the universe was being really nice to you today, and as you tugged on it to get it to open, you heard the friends lower their voices, but you could still make out a jumble of hushed words sounding something like, “oh no, is that…” Great, great, fucking great. The only solution to this was to change your name and ride up to Seattle for goodness’ sake, maybe throw yourself into a volcano as well just because. 

Finally the door swung open after what felt like eons, and you stumbled outside into the chilly autumn air, feeling goosebumps spring up all over. Where you were going, you didn't really know. This cafe was new, so it would take some time to figure out navigation so you stood dumbly in the middle of the front lawn as you tried to orient yourself.

Once you think you've got it, you start your agonizing trek back to your little room, screaming inside of your head, until you're harshly yanked back mid-footstep by a vice grip on your arm. What the fuck was it now. 

Ellie. The sight of her only made your tears increase in quantity and the emotion in your chest tighten. She looked a little disheveled, her eyes round like saucers, and she was gripping onto your arm so hard as if you were going to run away. You wanted to, but she still had a magnetic hold on you, even after all that turmoil. 

Talking was painful with how much you were trying to keep a hold of yourself, but you managed out a choked, “Ellie, what?” 

She looked befuddled, shaking her head ever so slightly and scrunching up her eyebrows, her gaze boring right into yours and following whenever you tried to break it and look elsewhere. Her hold on your arm softens, and moves to rest on your shoulder. “What do you mean what? You ran outta there like you were chased by a lunatic or something, what the fuck happened?”

Her tone startled you a little, why did she care so much? Noticing you jolt, she sighs and mellows her speech. “Sorry, what I mean to say is, I'm worried. Are you okay?” 

You worried her? Heat rushed to your cheeks as you fought to break the increasingly uncomfortable eye contact, and all you could do was shrug. Your lip started quivering and you were losing the fight of keeping your composure, how wonderful. Despite everything she was being so sweet, way too sweet. You felt helpless at this point. 

The words started pouring out of your mouth like a waterfall, you were properly sobbing now, falling apart and hiccuping as months and months of emotion spilled over. 

You were blabbering about how you loved the friendship you formed with her, but how hurt you felt that she’d laugh about you, every possible insecurity just tumbled out of your lips, as you wiped at your teary face and runny nose and glanced at Ellie ever so often. 

She let you talk for a bit until she saw you get even more upset, that's when she got a step closer to you, squeezed both your shoulders gently and kept a stern tone of voice to get your attention.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, slow down, I don't know what you're saying.” But you couldn't stop crying. Bottling up emotions was definitely a bad idea, because they were bound to burst sooner or later and unfortunately, you reached the breaking point. Sucking in some unsteady breaths as an attempt to regulate yourself, she was watching you patiently yet still cautiously. 

Your voice was weak and shaky, but you were slowly feeling a little better. For the first time during this interaction, you meet her eyes. Why was she always so pretty? She was sculpted just to spite you, you were convinced. Tears welled up in your eyes once more, but you blinked them away. “Um…Ellie…” She nodded expectantly, wanting to know what was wrong. But you could not complete your sentence as yet another bout of ache washed over you.

To snap you out of it once and for all, Ellie grabbed your face. The sheer disbelief of her action was enough to stop your tears luckily, and she held your gaze while she used her thumb to swipe at the stray teardrops adorning your cheekbones. You wanted to die, what was going on?

Once your panic was replaced with fluster and stupefaction, she let you go, but was still standing really close to you. You felt jittery from it all, nervous, embarrassed and in love and everything under the sun all at the same time. You stared at her, then looked away, then looked at her plump pink lips which were set in a questioning pout, then back up to her sympathetic greener-than-grass eyes, fuck, fuck, fuck. The intensity of the situation had caused any sense of judgment or critical thinking to long, long gone, and so your body moved on its own and before you had a chance to form a solid thought or process what you were doing.

Smooch.

You kissed her. 

Mouths colliding like magnets as you held onto the sides of her face, fireworks igniting in every single part of your body. Cradling her jaw as you closed the space between you two, the hurricane of emotion coursing through your veins as your lips caressed hers, and time felt like it had stopped. The months and months of excruciating pining had all led up to this very moment. 

She instinctively kissed you back, you felt her breaths fanning your face. You were about to ascend to another dimension. Lingering against her for a little longer, you forced yourself to regretfully pull away, and laughed loudly at her state now. 

Her lips were parted and she was gawking at you, you had broken her completely. Your own heart was working overtime, you were panting from the adrenaline of the situation, and could only hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

She seemed to be in a coma, doing nothing but staring and breathing. You punched her arm playfully, your voice breaking.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.” 

An frustrated confession tore itself from your throat, even the world's strongest iron bars couldn't contain it. You wiped at your face with your sleeves, a sad attempt to clear it of the residual salty tears that never once stopped their journey out of your eyes.

The sadness had left you, and you felt lighter now, truthfully. Had no idea how you would ever face her again after all this, but at least the cat was out of the bag and you had gotten that off of your chest. You both stood there in silence, now what was wrong with her? What a dork. Sucking on your teeth and kicking a pebble on the ground you admitted finally, “So, yeah. That's what's been troubling me, I guess.” 

Her pupils were dilated and huge, as she scanned all over your features, her mouth opening and closing as if she was having an internal battle of what to say. She stood there almost appearing miles more shocked than you somehow, she looked as if she was going to have a heart attack and die on you, you found it funny, but concerning at the same time. 

You watched her for a moment more, before accepting your disappointing fate and bidding her a goodbye. You cleared your throat. “Okay then. Cya in class. Bye.” You turned on your heel and began the walk back to your room, but this time for real, and didn't look back at her. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't, you wanted to leave this whole fiasco in the past. That chapter was closed, it seemed. 

The only thing left to do now was call your bestie, Abby. She has been your cheerleader through this whole thing, through all this time, gave you advice and brought you back to Earth, and you needed her support now more than ever. 

Right after you reached your dorm she was there in no time at all, after receiving your distress call she scrambled into action, with chocolates and boxed wine in hand. Maybe you should just date her instead at this point. Who else was left for you?

You talked and talked and talked to her about everything for so long, talking the night away just like old times, and she sat and listened to your every word, patted your back reassuringly as you weeped into her shoulder, then tucked you into bed at the end of it all. She left only when she was sure you'd relaxed fully.

You didn't fall asleep quite yet, and stayed awake thinking, pondering life and staring up at your ceiling. It turns out angrily confessing to the girl you've been infatuated with forever by impulsively kissing her and letting the whole campus know it was a tiring thing after all. You really did cause a bit of a scene, when you thought about it in hindsight.

But what was this all like from Ellie's perspective? You wished you could know what she thought, or at least gotten some sort of formal response. Her friend storms out of a cafe, kisses her and screams she's in love with her? It's certainly understandable she'd feel a little lost, or under great pressure to give you an answer. Her reaction did make sense though, after being met with such a shocking revelation. Wow, now that you were really thinking about it, she still did not know why you ran out of the cafe like that. You wished you could turn back time and redo this day, shame that wasn't possible. Were you two ever going to have a discussion about this, or had you just lost a friend for life. Oh no, you pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared, you didn't have an ounce of energy left over to dwell on it.

You'd work out what you were going to face her next later, a very well-deserved visit to dreamland was way overdue. You felt your eyelids grow heavy and your breathing slow, so you turned on your side and snuggled into your bed, eventually falling into a deep, deep sleep.

Meanwhile on your bedside table:

Bzz, bzz, bzz. 

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[planetnini]

PLEASE DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME !

࿔･ﾟ*࿐ You kept catching glimpses of Suguru around even after his death. Thinking it may have been a trick on your mind, you brushed it off but when someone that looks and sounds exactly like him shows up at your apartment, you have no other choice but to take matters into your own hands... that is until you find out that he still might be in there.

pairing. geto suguru x gn!reader

tags. angst,, like seriously angst (this hurts so much please listen to me), the first half is a trick there is no happy ending, shibuya arc spoilers!!! (kenjaku is a bitch), violence/fighting (i get a bit descriptive sorry) and of course,,, major character death :)

word count. 2.8k

notes. this idea came to me one night and bambi encouraged me to write it so here it is. i hope no one kills me for this, i also can't believe this is my first official fic of jjk... anyways, get ready to (c)rumble, thank you! <333

“I thought I told you not to worry about me.” you said, phone tucked on your shoulder holding it to your ear as you took the grocery bag from the old lady giving a curt nod and smile. You moved the bags in one hand and pulled the phone out from your shoulder, pressing it against your ear.

“But then what else would I do?” Satoru whined, masking his concern with a playful question as you walked to the crossing, going to take the usual route home.

“Go bother someone else.” you teased.

Going for the dramatics you heard him gasp through the line, “You are so mean.” he replied and you don’t have to see him to know he is pouting. 

You chuckled, stopping in your tracks as you glanced over the scenic route through the park contemplating to take the long way home. Your attention is suddenly turned to the children with their parents, chasing each other around.

Your heart stuttered.

The mere sight elicited thoughts about your future; the plans you had come up with; the dreams you’d wish to share with Suguru that were torn away from you. The burdens of the jujutsu world were too much to handle alone, and you just know that if you were just a bit more attentive, you could have saved him.

“You need to be reminded that you’re not the only special grade sometimes.” you said, glancing at the way the soft cerulean of the sky weaved with a beautiful light orange. The sunset reminding you of days when Suguru would take you out after missions together.

“Do you think you’re stronger than me?” he chimed, and you rolled your eyes at his comment. Satoru was always like this but you knew that his voice was laced with worry and concern.

“I’m going to hang up.” you threatened as your feet move against their own will, deciding to take the long way home today. The cherry blossoms danced along with the wind, falling beneath you on the concrete as you continued down the path.

It is quiet for a moment and you think Satoru has hung up on you in response to your comment but when you hear him sigh, you can’t help but do the same.

It has been a rough few years for everyone, especially for Shoko, Satoru, and yourself. Not only had you lost your best friend the first time but you also had to lose him another time.

“Are you still there?” he interrupted your thoughts.

“Yeah.. I’m still here.” you replied as you let out an exhale, kicking some pebbles along your path.

“Are you still seeing him around?” he questioned, words picked out carefully.

You sighed, “you make me sound insane.” you responded as you stood at the traffic light waiting for the cars to pass by. Your eyes moved to the blossom leaves falling atop your head and on your clothes.

“I never said you were insane Y/N.” he grumbled and you can’t control the way your whole body relaxes at his words. You knew Satoru cared for you deeply and you had always appreciated it even if you didn't really show it. He had always kept an eye out for you, even before Suguru’s death, and while he was a handful, you knew he always had good intentions. “It wasn’t easy to be there." he added.

You thought back to that day where Satoru insisted you stay back as he went to find Suguru but one look at you and he caved. You wanted to go to find newfound peace but seeing him in this state did nothing for your closure, it only made your heartache worse.

Seeing him smile at you like he did the first day you met had sent butterflies all throughout your body.

Everything about him- every minuscule detail about him- had been exactly as you had remembered. He still had the same sweet and playful look in his eyes. He still had the same goddamn smile. He was still the same person you fell in love with all those years ago so it hurt. You cried, wept, and tried to be strong as you thought about the moments shared with him and how cruel it was that this was where you ended up.

You leaned down, and kissed his cheek as tears adorned your cheeks. Holding his hand and with three tight squeezes- a sign of sorry that you established as your relationship blossomed- he closed his eyes, prepared for the worst as a tear rolled down his face, and then he took his last breath.

“Satoru…” you uttered, completely speechless as you tried to clear your head, “I wanted to be there.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Do you think it’s possible?” he questioned, uncertainty laced in his voice.

“That what Satoru? That by some miracle he’s alive?” you replied immediately regretting it.

It wasn’t just you that had to grieve the loss of Geto Suguru, and as much as you wanted to just go about your day without thinking about it, guilt would eat away at your bones for not constantly thinking about him.

“i’m sorry.” he sighed and you felt your heart clench at his apology. Why should he be apologising? It was unfair that grief was making you behave this way and you knew that sooner or later you'd need to talk to someone about it.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I just don’t think my mind will let me forget it...” you sighed as you continued to walk slowly to your apartment.

The line is quiet and you don’t know what else to say. You don’t expect Satoru to even reply to you.

“You don’t have to forget. You can just live with it.”

Shoko had once told you that 'grief was love with no place to go' and while you hadn’t really understood it then, you did now. It was a way to understand the emotional ruins of grief as a continuation of the love you once had, even if the object of that love is no longer a part of your life. In a sense, Satoru was also telling you the same thing. He acknowledged that moving on didn't mean erasing the past and staying stagnant in the moment, but recognised that you can continue living a meaningful life whilst also carrying the grief with you.

You thought you were losing your mind and that seeing Suguru everywhere was a curse but maybe it was the world's way of letting you know that he was finally at peace. As you walked up the pathway to your apartment in a comfortable silence, you thought about his and Shoko’s words. 

Every single day you would return home to a place void of any remnant of Suguru. A place that is supposed to offer comfort now did the opposite but today felt different. Maybe it was a step towards another way of living and it wouldn’t be so hard to live with the grief.

“Where are you now?”

“Outside my door.” you spoke as you used a key to unlock the door.

“Okay. I’m glad you got home safe," he remarked, "I'll see you tomorrow?”

“See you then.”

“Stay safe.” he said and you know what he means.

“Love you too.”

You hung up the phone and took off your shoes before tossing everything onto the kitchen island and groaning as you stretched your back and neck. You turned to open the fridge, “Whoever you are, you have ten seconds to run before I kill you.”

You wouldn’t say you were the strongest, your abilities were nowhere to be compared to Satoru but everyone deserves a second chance, right? You let the entity decide its own fate. Don't say I didn't warn you...

“So... you’re the infamous Y/N.” 

That voice…

Your feet were frozen in place and you could feel your own heart sink into the pit of your stomach. There were words stuck in your throat as the nauseous feeling crept up and threatened to spill from your lips. This can’t be right… 

What felt like minutes passed by as you processed what, or rather who you just heard. The way your name rolled off their tongue was foreign. Was it really who you thought it was? Your mind must be going through it right now and although you know it’s not possible, you can’t help but hope it is who you think it is as you turned around.

“Suguru?” you uttered, eyes wide as the tears brimmed the edge of them as you stared at the man in front of you. 

“Bingo!” he chuckled.

You begged yourself to snap out of it. This was clearly a sick and twisted transformation technique but your heart betrayed you, standing there and not making a run for it.

“You’re probably thinking this is some illusion but thanks to your friend, I was able to obtain this body without much trouble.” he smiled and you felt goose bumps crawling up your arm at the strange sight. Despite how much this man looked and sounded like Suguru, you knew this was not the case at all.

Your jaw clenched, “What the fuck did you do to him?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, standing up from your sofa as he trudged towards you, “My cursed technique allows me to transplant my brain into anybody," he explained and you're heaving as you tried to keep your rage at surface level, "I have access to all of his memories, his skills, and whatnot."

You don't have it in yourself to attack just yet.

"He lived a long time without you in his life but somehow," he paused, "you take up almost every single memory.” he sounded frustrated and the tears threatening to escape your eyes do so- whether he was telling the truth or not, they still hurt you immensely. 

“So why are you here?” you growled as your body allowed itself to move again and maintaining eye contact with him as you focused all your energy to charge your technique.

“You are a hindrance to my plans.”

His weakness.

You released your cursed technique at him immediately and launched him across the room and as you moved to the table to grab your phone. One of Suguru’s cursed spirits wrapped around your hands and restrained you and using your abilities, you managed to get away from it. You shot him a look as he tilted his head with a smile, “I gave you ten seconds to run but I have something else settled for you now” you snapped as you continued to use your technique to your advantage as you continued to fight him.

You would say that against Suguru, it had always been a close call of who would win in a fight but this time it felt difficult. Who was this guy?

You continued to attack the man, fighting back with all your might. He wasn’t actually Suguru, so you didn’t feel the need to hold back. He caught you off guard with a calculated move and knocked you to the floor. You saved yourself from further injury as you used your arm to break the fall, but you managed to hit your head on the furniture with your head in the process.

You winced pushing yourself off your elbow as the man walked towards you with his hands in front of you as he tried to force you up by the throat, “Suguru...” you managed to say before he could grab you. 

Before you can even process it, there is a twitch of his hand that came up to his throat, choking himself as his fingers pressed down against the side of his throat, ultimately stopping himself from putting a hand on you.

Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your lungs. Was he still in there?

Kenjaku’s eyes widened, as his vessel- Suguru’s body- fought against him, and a laugh that used to be full of joy now sounded like nails on a chalkboard as it echoed through your apartment, “This is impressive!" he spoke, amused at the action.

By no means was Geto Suguru still alive, but protecting you had become muscle memory; it was an instinct that has embedded itself deep within his soul, one that Kenjaku would never truly be able to understand..

You are still on the floor, blood dripped down the side of your head as you moved up from your spot. Using your technique, you try and catch him off guard by putting all your strength into your next move, attacking him when he least expects it, “In all my years, I have never seen anything quite like this and it is all because of you.” he cackled. 

“It sounds like somebody is scared.” you taunted, smirking at the imposter to try to size him up.

“Well, let me tell you this,” he cleared his throat, “When a part of the original host reacts, you know what that means?”

“What?” you seethed, jaws clenched as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

“He’s still in here.” he whispered, and t had caught you off guard.

You wanted to attack but instead your heart sabotaged your next move allowing Kenjaku to have the upper hand. You struggled to react as you felt the pain of something on your left side and suddenly, you are on the floor gasping for air and you can feel him hover over you.

He pinned you down to the floor and slammed you against it to stop you from struggling but you were already incapacitated so what was the point?

In terms of physical strength, Suguru would always win by a landslide and this is when you wished you had taken your training more seriously. 

There was a visceral reaction that tears at Kenjaku as he has you in his hands which entertains him once again, “You have some nerve calling yourself a special grade sorcerer,” he sneered, “Are you holding back?”

You looked up at him and tried your absolute best to move but the pain is too much to handle. You clenched your jaw as your breathing became erratic, “You will find no peace, so long as you live.” you choked out.

He laughed and wrapped his hand around your neck tighter, his right hand reaching over to your hand- you don’t know what he expected from you now that you’re bleeding out. "You're hilarious," he rejoiced as his hand intertwined with yours, “So let me make this easier for you. Just think about him...” Kenjaku needed you to suffer so that he could shake Suguru’s will to its core, stripping anything left he had. You don’t know what you expected but then you felt a gentle squeeze.

One. 

You forced your eyes open to look up at the man who squeezed your hand. It seemed that he was unaware at the action. This guy said he had all of Suguru’s memories so was he just doing this on purpose? Is this Geto Suguru or is this the imposter that is using his body?

“It is honestly so sweet just how much he loved you after all those years apart.” he chuckled.

Kenjaku continued to put pressure around your neck with one hand, feeling the exact opposite of what Suguru was probably going through- an intolerable, gut-wrenching pain, without exaggeration. He can’t do anything but squeeze his hand in yours again.

Two.

You can’t fight back, you have no will. Even if by some miracle, how could you possibly hurt the man in front of you? The man you once loved...

“Is that why you’re not fighting back? Do you love him too much to hurt him?” 

Suguru’s soul pleaded. 

He wondered why he couldn’t be strong right now for you and resist but it was no use. You could see a tear falling from his face now as the final fragment of his soul tried its best to push through.

Three.

You’re choking. You can't swallow. You can't breathe. You can only see the man you loved in blurry vision from the lack of oxygen and through tears. He was sorry...

“I… I.. forgive.. y-” you choked out, voice restricted as Kenjaku forced himself to push through with his execution, tightening his grip.The finality of it all settled deep within his soul as Kenjaku watched the life leave your eyes as you took your last breath.

A tear rolled down your cheek and your existence on the Earth came to an end.

Suguru was not really gone but he might as well have been. He will exist for a long time knowing that he was the one that killed you and that he couldn’t do anything to stop it either.

It was on that night for the first time that Kenjaku felt the overwhelming amount of agony from his vessel. His soul ached, cried, and wailed that night, longing to be with you but he couldn’t- that was just how things were meant to be for you two.

You hoped he knew that you forgave him and that you would love him endlessly but as for now, you would wait...

tags! @stsgluver

i made y/n a special grade user because they could easily take down suguru if they wanted but just didn't do it hahahahahah

[angelique-isawineglass]

𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

(Alcina X Wife!FashionDesigner!Reader)

[Reader has been neglecting their health, ignoring people, and overworking... and so Alcina decides to deal with it herself.]

~Angst/Fluff/Under eating/Self neglect/Mental health talk/Overworking~

~Little use of Y/N, bad grammar, possible misspellings, Reader is over 30 (roughly 36-38)~

So like- I'm kind of projecting on this one :') I think you'll find that some of the angst fics that I write are sometimes me projecting some of the things I go through IRL. I find that writing what I'm going through tends to help calm my nerves, however because my hands are shaking there will probably be a few more spelling mistakes then usual, sorry about that :')

Anyways, enjoy my loves and please take care of yourself <3

~ ~

Work. Work, work, work, work, work. That's all that's on your mind lately. You've barely seen Alcina or the girls for a week, unless it's dinner. You've been sitting in your own workspace, working for hours on end. You've slept a total of maybe 8 hours this entire week. An entire week, of little sleep or just sleepless nights.

You hardly eat anything when you go down to the dining room, and you don't speak to anyone. You were frustrated, stressed and overworked. Some days you felt like you would just pass out and never wake up, but you knew that would be too good for you. And whenever Alcina or the girls tried to talk to you, you'd shut the conversation down before anyone can even think of asking you to take a break.

Currently, you're sitting in the room Alcina had renovated into a workspace for you to do your work. Sitting at your desk, head resting on your arm which was resting on your desk, staring at the papers scattered across the table and adorning your wall. It was well after 2am, yet you were in a dark room, the only light source being the moonlight and candle sitting next to you. You had countless designs that you wanted to finish, but no inspiration whatsoever. Not to mention, the constant shaking in your hands every time you picked up your pencil. There were a few mannequins with partially finished dresses and suits standing around the room. Some mannequins were big, some were smaller, your size, and others were somewhere in between that.

You let out a groan of frustration, burying your face in your hands. , , It's not that fucking hard, you're being dramatic just- just think!-" You mutter to yourself, and oddly enough, an idea comes to mind. You bring one of the papers towards you and pick up a pencil. However, when you go to add to your design, your hand starts to shake violently, causing you to cross a line over your drawing.

, , Christ sake!"

You stand up, throwing the pencil across the room, watching as it cracks from the force. You were beyond pissed with how incompetant your body was acting. Your gaze snaps down to your desk, and you quite harshly grab the paper sitting infront of you. You begin to tear it to pieces, crushing the pieces to a ball before chucking it into the bin beside your desk. You began to throw things, anything. You pushed over mannequins, brushed papers across the room from your desk, kicked rolls of materials across the floor. You needed to let out all this frustration on something, but you felt so lost.

You were about to push another mannequin over before your arms were pulled back behind you. You tried to pull away, writhing against the grip of whoever had taken ahold of your arms. You had a pretty good guess of who it was, considering you could smell expensive cigarettes and burned roses. You kept fighting against the tight grip, but gave up upon realising it was probably a useless attempt. All of a sudden, all the angry frustration you felt turned to tears, filling up behind a dam wall, bound to break at any moment.

You let out a choked sob when the grip on your arms loosens. Your knees collapse beneath you, causing you to fall to the ground. The wall breaks, and tears begin to fall into your lap. Realisation sets in after a few moments, and you quickly pull yourself towards the bin besides your desk.

, , No, no no- Fuck!"

You pick out the crumbled ball of paper and unroll it, watching as the pieces fall to your lap.

, , FUCK." You yell out in frustration, as you're lifted off the ground. You close your eyes, tight, crying uncontrollably. You try to control your breathing, but of course, nothing is ever easy. You're pulled into the chest of who you now knew was Alcina, not that it was easy to see her clearly, your vision was too clouded with blurry wet tears, and you could hardly keep them open for more then half a second.

, , Hush my love, it's alright."

As much as you wanted to believe that it was alright, the terrible week you had, had your mind believing that it was the end of the world. You tried your best to keep your sobbing quiet, but it was proving difficult. You were being held bridal style to your wife's chest while she carried you out of your study and most likely back to your private chambers.

By the time you had arrived at your chambers, of which was all the way on the other side of the Castle, you had stopped crying, just soft gentle sobs every few seconds. By now you had shut your eyes, and was trying to focus on just Alcina's heart beat. It felt like an eternity before you were able to focus, there was so little happening, yet so much, and it was extremely overwhelming. It felt like you were in a deep black pit, but yet, you knew you weren't.

You didn't snap out of your thoughts until you felt yourself being placed onto the soft comfortable embrace of your bed, you didn't realise how much you had missed the feeling of it. Being engulfed by the warm blankets, it calmed you down, but not too much. What really calmed you down, was the feeling of your wifes arms wrapping around you and pulling you into her chest, of which you immediately and unapologetically buried your face into, all your anxiety and frustrations started to slowly creep back to the shadows.

You noticed that she was in her nightgown, which you probably shouldn't be surprised about considering how late it was. You then looked down at your own attire, realising that you were also wearing a nightgown. Had you really gotten that consumed with your thoughts you hadn't realised that Alcina had changed you?

, , Sleep Dragă. I'll be here when you wake up."

You wanted to protest but you were unbareably tired, and you were already laying on a bed, and Alcina showed no sign of letting you go anytime soon, so really you had no choice. You tried to fight off the sleep that was slowly dragging you down as much as you could, but gave up when Alcina held you closer.

, , I'm sorry... I love you, Alcina."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so gentle and quiet. It made Alcina smile, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

That was the last thing you felt before being carried away into a dreamless, calm sleep. The best sleep you had gotten in the past week.

Yep okay, bye, it;s 5am im done, goodnight

im not gonna try to edt any misspelingns anymore im tired, this fic might make like 0 sense at all

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Spirit

@jabs-wocks​ made a comment about being in the mood for some angst and @justlookatthosesausages​ was talking about some post F2 ending/altered canon stuff the other day so I was inspired. I also wanted to make it October prompt-esque, so this one was about the word ‘Spirit’, which eventually just became the title

Edit: Also tumblr mobile? Hate you my guy, you literally deleted the entire text as I posted it, I saw you do it, so I’m here on my desktop. [Sigh] So here’s take 2.

-----

Perhaps life would never go back to normal in Arendelle. Though, how could it? The discovery of a decades long secret? The realization that the country they loved so dearly was capable of cruelty? And what to do with the Northuldra? Unite in shared blood despite history? Make reparations but go separate ways?

These are the questions that loom over Elsa and Anna in the weeks after their adventure to the Enchanted Forest.

Despite requests to stay, Elsa did return to Arendelle. Considering the circumstances, the Northuldra didn’t take offense, and welcomed her whenever she could take time away to visit and learn. But Anna sees how the days wore on her sister, rushing this way and that, rarely ever pausing to rest.

Which isn’t new, Anna sighs, watching as Elsa sets down her quill and leaves the office, closing the door behind her. A small squeak comes from the floor and Anna sees poor Bruni plop back down after launching himself towards the gap in the doorway. He’d been a second too late.

“Aww, are you okay?” Anna kneels down to check on him. “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s got a lot on her mind.”

Bruni chirps again, giving Anna a smile and an excited pitter-patter of feet. “Oh, of course,” Anna nods, “I should have known you’d already forgiven her. A wise and powerful spirit.”

The little salamander sparks magenta flame at the praise and darts away, wiggling himself under the door and scampering after Elsa.

Though the Enchanted Forest was many miles away, the spirits are often around, and have complete freedom to roam Arendelle castle. When they visit they spend the most time around the two Fifth Spirits, acknowledging Anna as one of their own. Some are more confined than others however: the Nokk could not leave the water without Elsa’s help, but it was a pleasant enough companion to sit with by the fjord.

Anna finds the Nokk there now, observing the ships coming and going.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Anna asks. The Nokk turns it’s watery head her way, snorting a greeting. “I used to watch them from my window all the time.” Anna takes a seat next to the horse who is lounging on the sand, where the surf laps at the shore. “I’ll bet you used to watch ships come and go near Ahtohallan, before the Forest closed up.” She brings her chin to her knees. The sea washes against the spirit’s body, absorbed at regular intervals to swirl around it’s flank and belly. “Maybe without the Mist you would have seen my parents’.”

The Nokk glances up at her, attentive. Anna gazes back, trying to find answers in it’s bright blue eyes. “Would you have saved them?” The Nokk’s ear flicks but it’s expression doesn’t change. Anna chuckles to herself. “From the stories Elsa told, perhaps you wouldn’t have. You were trapped and angry and scared in the Forest. Maybe you would have seen them as just one more threat.”

A whiny is her reply, and while Anna may still be learning about the Nokk, she’s been around flesh and blood horses enough to know that the creature in front of her does look a little remorseful.

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you.” Anna leans back and looks skyward, at the clouds racing overhead. “And I know that you would now, even if we’re both uncertain of back then. Elsa may have been at the reins, but from what I heard, it was you that sped faster than a tidal wave to make it back here before Arendelle was destroyed. And your power that helped her hold the water back. I will always be grateful to you for saving my… our home.”

The Nokk lowers it’s head and rests it near her knee, letting out a long sigh that sends ripples across the shallow waves and scatters sand towards her hands. This time, it’s eyes search hers.

Anna takes pity on the spirit. “It’s okay. You couldn’t be in two places at once. Besides,” she emphasized, “you hadn’t met me yet and the dam was in the opposite direction of Arendelle. How were you to know?”

A raising of voices sounds over the wall, a commotion in the courtyard.

“Kristoff must be back,” Anna says, rising. “I should make sure everything’s alright.” The Nokk blinks slowly in farewell and dissolves back into the sea.

She was right - Kristoff had returned. As Anna enters the gates she spies Sven already being fed and watered by an enthusiastic Olaf. The reindeer looks tired, no doubt riding hard to get back before sundown. Even the proximity of Olaf’s carrot nose doesn’t seem to perk him up.

And though it was Sven who’d done all the running, Kristoff is the one who looks the most weary. He and Elsa are deep in conversation as Anna approaches, and while she’s not yet close enough to hear, she can see by the slump in his shoulders that he’s not happy.

Ever since they returned from the Forest, Kristoff has volunteered his time connecting with the Northuldra, helping them however they needed as they adjusted to life free of the Mist. Additionally, he began serving as Arendelle’s unofficial ambassador when Elsa couldn’t be around herself. At first Elsa had tried to dissuade him, saying he needed to recover from his own experiences in the Forest, that he didn’t need to serve Arendelle in a capacity he wasn’t comfortable with. He just laughed and tugged on his sash, saying, “Well you never know, Elsa. They might just be my family too.”

The travels were clearly wearing on him, but Kristoff seemed to want to keep moving, keep occupied, always doing something with his feet and his hands.

But Anna doesn’t miss the way he sinks gratefully into Elsa’s warm embrace. Doesn’t miss the way they hug tight. How Elsa disappears behind his broad shoulder, taking a moment to hide in it’s shadow. How Kristoff’s hands pull her close, as though to remind him of something.

“It will be dark soon,” Anna hears Kristoff say as they separate. Elsa turns her head to the west, then up into the hills.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Elsa says without looking back. Kristoff nods and steps back.

A horse, already prepared, is brought to Elsa which she mounts and steers towards the gates. She’s about to leave when Kristoff calls her name softly from the ground. “Elsa?” Anna is nearly level with them now, but pauses at his tone. “It’s okay if you’re late. We… we understand. Just,” he shuffles on his feet before laying a hand on the horse’s side and meeting her eye. “Take care of yourself, promise?”

Elsa’s eyes glisten for a moment before she nods. “I’ve made a lot of promises recently,” she replies, her voice strained. “But I’ll keep this one.”

She flicks the reins and departs. Kristoff doesn’t linger either, heading back into the castle with Olaf and Sven.

Anna looks between the two groups: at the rapidly disappearing back of her sister and at the somber march of the three heading home. She puts her hands on her hips.

“Honestly,” she huffs, “no one around here knows how to take a break!”

She hears a chittering whistle above her head. Laughter, strange for certain, but a sound Anna has come to love.

“Glad you agree, Gale,” Anna smiles as Gale weaves around her clothes in greeting. Another glance tells Anna that Kristoff and the others were nearly inside. Elsa on the other hand had vanished as soon as she left town. Anna bites her lip as Gale swirls pensively around her. “I know I should probably check on Kristoff but… he does have Sven and Olaf. He- he’ll be alright, for now.” She points a finger at Gale, “But remind me, okay? If I forget that’s on you.”

Gale titters in a way that can only be sarcastic, but it only makes Anna grin wider. “Sure, sure, if I really do forget then I’ll let you toss me up and down in a whirlwind until I remember. But I think you forget that I’ve gotten pretty good at coasting your wind. It won’t be like the first time.”

At this Gale slows, almost bashful, and presses into Anna’s cheek like a cat. “It’s alright! You were just being cautious! Protecting the Forest and all. Geez,” she blew a little air of her own at the wind spirit, making it chitter that laugh again. “What’s with you spirits? So sentimental.”

She sizes up the rest of the courtyard. The horsekeeper is heading in now that his job is over, and the rest of the animals were locked away. Gale races forward, toying with a latch to one of the horse stables.

“No!” Anna reprimands. “I don’t need to take a horse. And especially since-,” she falters. “Just… walk with me? It’ll be good to have someone to talk to.”

Gale floats for a moment, then heads back to tug on Anna’s sleeve, urging her forward. “Alright, alright!” Anna laughs breathlessly, letting herself be led. “I’m coming! Aren’t I the one who invited you?”

They don’t have to travel far, Anna knows where Elsa was heading.

The sun is a golden wedge on the mountain’s rocky sides, sending deep purple shadows towards the east. There’s a clearing in the forest up ahead, one Anna knows well. She passes Elsa’s horse, giving it a wide berth so as not to spook the timid creature.

She hears the sobs she expected, but the sound still cuts her, deeper than any sword.

Elsa is on her knees before the towering headstones of their parents. She hunches over herself, arms crossed against her chest, trying to contain, still, after all these years, the grief and sorrow that live inside her ribs. Her pale hair hangs over her face, which is only a few inches from the ground.

Today has been hard.

Anna knows that Elsa had likely started standing, likely started with talking. Talking until the emotions welled up like the tide, sloshing back and forth and knocking her off balance until something tipped and it all spilled out, scattering her words and knocking her legs out from underneath her.

Anna knows because she’s seen it before: the first, second, and third time Anna took Elsa to see their parent’s grave after the Thaw.

But Anna also knows that that isn’t why Elsa is here this time.

Anna approaches and gazes at the earth before her. It’s been well kept, but of course it has. Just enough time has passed for new grass to grow, despite the soft nip of winter at the end of the night. Gifts and decorations still adorn the site, fresh flowers, a stuffed reindeer, a whittled sunflower, and many, many Arendelle flags.

A sound comes Elsa then. Raw. Agonized. Keening.

Inhuman.

Inhuman in that no human being should ever sound like the weight of their despair is crushing them, breaking them, hollowing them out.

Anna is at her side immediately, and she knows, she knows what will happen but she can’t stop herself. The sight of her sister’s suffering sends trills through her very soul, un-ignorable.

She places a hand on Elsa’s shoulder, in comfort, and watches it go right through. Ethereal. Translucent.

Ghostly.

Elsa grieves in front of a third headstone in the clearing, one that bears Anna’s name, and continues to weep.

Anna finds no purchase on her sister’s form. She hasn’t since the first day she got back from the Forest. She walked those miles by herself, alone, the spirits gone or busy with the living. When she finally returned to Arendelle --after the damn, after the flood, after… the dark, dark waters-- she saw Elsa and Kristoff and ran forward. Forgetting herself, wanting only to greet them and love them.

They walked right through her embrace, like she wasn’t even there.

Because she wasn’t.

Bruni found her two days later, on the roof above Elsa’s room. Unwilling to stay too close but unable to tear herself away from her friends, her family.

Her life.

That the spirits could see her was a small comfort. Very, very small. But at least she wasn’t alone anymore. She’d had plenty of that.

Anna recoils as Elsa shudders through an exhale, her next breath wet and clogged and shallow. Snowflakes start to fall from the sky though there are no clouds, swirling and sticking to grass and fallen leaves. Elsa’s control is slipping, and Anna can’t take it anymore.

“Gale-,” Anna’s voice breaks. “Please...”

The wind spirit knows what she is asking.

It takes a few seconds, but soon leaves and soft grass stems swirl gently around Elsa’s body, dancing in air, pressing gently against her hands to coax them free of their white knuckled grieving. “Gale?” Elsa asks breathlessly, and Anna feels the need to cry herself. Her sister’s voice is hoarse and fragile. Weak like a fractured eggshell. Flower petals wipe away the tears that soak Elsa’s cheeks. Gale tips Elsa’s head up as more objects join the bobbing air current, drawn from the forest and hills beyond.

“What are you...?” Elsa begins, but as a shape takes form she gasps, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

A simple crown weaves itself into creation before her. Sunflower petals interlace with stalks of wheat and flashes of red maple leaves, bound together with precision and care. The purple head of a crocus flower, the last of the year, or perhaps the first of the new, is the final piece added before the adornment floats toward Elsa’s head and settles atop her hair, as gentle as a mother’s hand.

Or a sister’s.

Recognition widens Elsa’s eyes and she whirls around, staggering upright on unsteady feet.

“Anna!?”

The desperation, the hope, rings out like glass on the brink of shattering. Anna feels her breath catch in her throat as her sister looks at her for the first time since the ice boat ferried her away down the side of a cliff. She reaches out like she did before, even takes a step forward.

Until she realizes Elsa’s eyes are still searching. Looking past her.

After a few moments where Elsa’s heart hammers in her chest and Anna’s tries to recall what that might be like, Elsa’s shoulders drop and it’s a folding, a shrinking, an inward sinking. She is smaller than Anna has ever seen her.

But...

Elsa takes the crocus flower from the crown, plucks a sunflower petal and a soft head of wheat, and with a careful weaving of her own she protects them in ice. Smaller, but no less special than the frozen star atop the Christmas tree years ago, and cradled with just as much care.

Elsa holds the creation to her chest and Anna feels Gale nestle around her shoulders.

Both sisters speak at the same time.

“Thank you. I love you. I miss you.”

[fakesimp]

hello there, is your request open? if it is, may i request luxiem members reacting to a gn reader crying after they confessed to them because they didn't expect the boys to like them back? i hope it's not too complicated... thanks in advance !! -♡︎

Reciprocated feelings? With Luxiem

Warning !

Slight Angst, Comfort !

Mentions of cursing in Mysta's part !

Luxiem boys x Gn! Independent Vtuber! Reader [ separately ]

A/n : my requests are not open, but this.. This is actually a good idea, I can't ignore this idea somehow.

Thank you for dropping the idea anon darling <3

And no totally not me writing this at 12 am.

Also my apologies if it is ooc </3

Since, I usually do Ike and Shu in Luxiem (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

➶◜◝➴

You admire him, his hard work, his laugh, how he looked at you with admiration, did he do that on purpose? Did he even realize he did that? how he manage to make your heart skip a beat on whatever he's doing to you, even the simplest thing he did make your heart flutter.

As someone that is also in the vtuber world, he is your inspiration to begin your journey as a vtuber. It's almost unreal when you are getting reached out by him one time, and then it slowly increases from replying to each other's tweet, doing a game collab, till meeting up irl.

You have denied your feelings towards him for so long, but the more you deny him, the harder you fell for him. These past few days you were contemplating if you should confess your feelings towards him or not, but there's one thing that bothers you.

What if he doesn't feel the same?

It haunts you almost every night, making more nervous to confess. But you tried to build up the courage to confess, right now you're currently doing an off collab with him.

You're both currently playing a multiplayer game, he's on a toilet break at the moment. So you took your sweet time talking with the viewers while waiting for him to come back, and he did say that you both might end the stream soon since you've both have been playing for, quite some time.

After he's done with the toilet break, he came back and sat down next to you. Too close for your heart to handle but you have to stay strong. At least until you confess.

After playing again for awhile you both bid goodbye to the chat, and ended the live stream.

Vox Akuma

"That's going unexpectedly well." Vox commented after the stream ended, you scoffed "you were expecting it didn't go well Vox?" You roll your eyes and rise up from the couch. Earning a low chuckle from the demon, "No, ...okay maybe a little."

"anyway, what do you want for dinner darling?" He asked as he followed you to the kitchen, "anything is fine." You replied, the demon that was not facing you now turned his head towards you with a smug face plastered. "And here I thought you would scold me for calling you darling, since you usually scold me." "Don't-, even say it. Vox Akuma." You said as you tried to calm yourself down, you didn't realize he was calling you with a nickname due to you kept on watching his ASMR streams. You were unexpectedly getting used to it.

You heard the demon chuckle once more before standing across you behind the kitchen counter, "seems like somebody was watching my ASMR streams." "No i didn't." "I didn't say who (y/n)."

Well shit.

"so you do watch my ASMR streams, awee, how cute." He whispered and making you more flustered than you already are. "Shut up.." you hid your face in your palms and groaned, but over all of his endless teases. You liked it, you loved it. The way he laughed, his low voice would rang in your ears. "Don't worry Darling, I won't tell a single soul about this." He said, you shot your head up and slightly glare at him. He coos at your reaction and out of the blue he suddenly tug your hair behind your ear.

His sudden gesture made you shudder, "Don't get mad now, I'm just teasing you." He said before turning around and start cooking dinner for both you and him. You stared at his back, you can still feel the warmth of his finger tugging your hair behind your ear. You felt butterflies in your stomach, your eyes soften as you stare at the demon in front of you cooking and humming.

"Vox."

"Yes, darling? Ah, I mean (y/n). What is it?"

. . .

As he just finished his cooking, He put his cooking on a plate and served it on the kitchen counter, taking off his both of the gloves and washed both of his hands at the sink before coming back to you and stared at you curiously.

You both stared at each other for a good minute before you decided to break it first, "I, want to say something" you took a deep breath. "Hmm, Go ahead, take your time." He replied as he stood there waiting for you to continue.

"I, admire your work, I also, love your voice, even though sometimes your teases drives me insane, but that's one of the thing that I like from you. I admire your friendship with the other members, everyone else that you interacted with. Mm, okay enough of that.." you cut yourself in the middle of your sentence, making the demon raise a brow. Looking at you, trying to figure out a reason why you're saying all of those. Unless-

"I like you Vox."

. . . . . .

Oh great, did you just ruin the mood now? Should've confessed through text huh? Now here you are stuck in this unbearably tense silence, the man in front of you haven't said anything after you confessed.

"look, Vox It's okay if you don't have the same feelings towards me, I shouldn't have confe-" "No no no, can you, repeat that?" He cuts you off, his question made you confused. You shot your head up looking straight into his eyes, "Repeat, what?" "Your confession."

You blinked once, twice, thrice. You looked away for a moment, "(Y/n), look at me" He said but you shook your head. "No, you know you can just say that you didn't feel the same," you said trying not to hold back your tears, "why should I repeat my confession when you don't even feel the same?" You continued.

"I didn't say I didn't feel the same in the first place." He replied as he put a finger under your chin, he slowly lead your face back up to him. And he place his hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently on your cheek.

"Vox, I-"

"It should've been me first, I was afraid you don't feel the same. But then you confessed, it should've been me first."

Then your tears flow down, Vox's eyes widen up when he saw your tears. "Oh darling.." He immediately went to your side and wrapped his arms protectively around you, "Did I scare you? I'm sorry if I did." He apologized, "I- I thought-"

"Shhh, take a deep breath.. I'm sorry for not saying anything but,

I also like you, Darling." He said and dropped a kiss on your head, "You're mine, and I am yours."

Mysta Rias

"That was fucking awesome! I can't wait for tomorrow." Mysta said and slumped over on the couch, "thank you for today Mysta." you thanked the man and he looked at you and smiled a little.

"It was nothing, so, what now?" He asked as you cleaned up the table, "I don't know, you go find an idea what to do." You replied. He looked at you devastated, "Well, if you don't know then I also don't know." He continued. You tut, "Oh how I adore that behavior of yours." You joked, "yeah? I know u like me (Y/n)" he replied with another joke.

You went silent after, your heart skips a beat, you can feel your face heating up. Questions start to flood your mind, Does he actually know your feelings towards him? Is it that obvious? Or is he joking-

"..n).. (Y/n). Omfg, earth to (Y/n). Are you even listening to me by this point." Mysta called you and poked your shoulder, "Huh- oh- uh-" "Great, you're not listening aren't you." He said and sighed.

You turned facing him, to your surprise instead of seeing his usual smug face. You instead getting greeted with his worried face, "You went silent after I replied back to your joke, I.. uh, was wondering if it's offending you or something." He said as he scratch the back of his neck nervously.

Oh.

It was a joke.

"No no, I suddenly, .. remember something important that's all." You replied to him and pat his arm, you remember. He's going to feel guilty. Even if you said it's okay. "You're so bad at lying (Y/n), damn." He said and smiled a little. "Wha- hey, I'm not lying, I'm serious. I do remember something important." You pout, earning a small laugh at the detective.

"But Mysta," "Yeah?"

. . .

"I actually do like you."

He immediately shot his head to you, he blinked once, twice, he opened his mouth but then closing them again. Repeats.

"Uhm, haha.." he laughed nervously, "are you fucking serious?" He asked. In disbelief. You turn your head away, "Yes. But look, if you, don't uhm, feel the same it's okay." You said trying not to cry on the spot. His reaction is completely out of your mind, "I understand if you can't reciprocate my feelings, maybe I'm not the right one for yo-" "no no, hey, I'm asking you if you're serious or not. I didn't say I don't feel the same (Y/n)." He cuts you off in the middle of the sentence.

He needs reassurance, he needs to know if you're saying the truth or not. He needs to know.

"I, do like you, I want to be more than a friend to you. I want to be someone that can stay by your side until death do us apart. But-" "Hey, quit that. I haven't even-, say anything yet.." he replied and took a hold of your hand.

"I thought about confessing to you, but I don't know how. I'm very nervous to the point I can't sleep, thinking about what your reply would be.." he explained as he gently rub his thumb on top of your hand, "But I guess, there's nothing I should be scared of. Since, you felt the same." He continued.

"I like you too, (Y/n)."

You look up at him, your breath stutters. "Mysta.." your voice cracked, he immediately shot his head up to see you crying. "Wha- why are you crying--" he immediately wipe your tears away, "Uh- hug-?" He asked and slowly open his arms. Without any further a do, you dive into his arms and cried there. You can feel his hand Patting your back, his heartbeat.

"so.. are we.. uh, dating now?" He asked trying to brighten up the mood. "You don't want to?" You replied in between your sobs, "God, Who doesn't want to date a beautiful person like you.

Then from today we're officially dating."

Luca Kaneshiro

"POG! We're Poggin' today (Y/n)!" Luca said and smiled widely at you, "Yeah! We are huh." You replied and smiled back at the male. "Ah, I'm hungry, should we get some food or should we continue playing another game?" He asked as he look over at you with another smile.

"if you're hungry, don't you think we should get some food?" You replied, "Sure! Should we order some food or are you gonna cook?" "Either way is fine Luca." You said as you looked over at your phone that was laid on the couch next to you. You see a notification pops up, you grabbed your phone and smiled.

After a few minutes, somebody knocked on the door. "Uh-" before you could say anything Luca stands up and went to the door, after hearing a few mumbles Luca came back with a box of pizza. "I got us pizza" he said and put the pizza box on the table in front of you, "We really don't have much of a choice huh." You commented and chuckled. The blonde tut, "You said either way is fine!" "Yeah yeah you're not wrong. Let's go feast on it shall we?"

A few minutes passed, both of you had a good conversation. Laughter filled the room as you both have a feast on the pizza, Luca got both of you some drinks. But there's a little bit of alcohol in it that's making the blonde a bit tipsy, you didn't want ended up to get a hangover so you decided to just drink a little bit.

"Say, (Y/n), what would you do if there's someone suddenly confessing to you?" Luca asked out of the blue, he laid back on the couch as he stared at you, with that cheeky smile of his. You stared back at the blonde and frowned for a moment, "hmm, how about you?" You shot back his question back. Now it's his turn to frown, "hmm, maybe it. Depends on the person that confessed to me? Tho, I wish it was- wait a minute. You haven't answered yours yet-!" He said and turn his body facing you, "so? What's your answer?" He looked at you expectantly.

You stared at each other for a good 5 minutes in silence, "I don't know honestly, maybe the same as you? Depending on the person who confessed to me." You said as you start fiddling with your fingers. "Pog! Do you, have someone you like?" He shot another question and tilt his head curiously, you frowned and looked down on your hand.

It's getting sweaty, your silence is making the blonde a little bit worried. "Did I, Am I not suppose to ask that?" He fixed his position and pat your shoulder, "As curious as I am, I'm being a gentleman so I won't force you answer me" he said and smiled at you.

You stared at him for a second before taking a deep breath. "There is."

"Hm?"

"I have feelings for someone."

You continued, Luca's eyes twinkle and looked at you expectantly. "Pog! Can I know who that lucky person is?" He asked and smiled widely, "It's. You, Luca." You said and your voice went smaller as you do. Luca's smile wavered a bit, "Woah woah, wait c-can you repeat that?" The blonde requested. Making you bite your lower lip, "It's you Luca.." you repeated a bit louder this time.

The male blinked a few times before his face just completely went redder than before, Luca let out a nervous chuckle as he looked away from you a little.

You just want to bury yourself by this point, you're confessing to a tipsy man. You don't even know if he will remember your confession tomorrow, you softly sighed at your own stupidity. "Luca, Uhm, I-It's okay. It must be weird for you, when the question you asked actually happened.." you curse yourself internally about the voice crack at the beginning of your sentence.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't-

"no, (Y/n), I- I was just surprised-! I was planning to confess to you tomorrow! But you went ahead before me-! This is kinda.. unpog of me." The blonde said before looking back at you again, to be greeted with your shaking figure.

"(Y/n)-?! H-hey, why are you crying-??" Luca immediately engulfed you into his arms, your face buried in between his chest. "Did I say something wrong??! I'm sorry if I did, (Y/n)!" He apologized to you, "It's okay, (Y/n).. I'll protect you! I'll make sure your days will be filled with smiles from now on."

Ike Eveland

"Thank you for today, (Y/n)" Ike thanked you for the collab today, you smiled at him "Hey, this is nothing, I'm glad both of us had fun in the end." You replied as you cleaned up the table and sat back down on the couch. "Yes yes, that's right." The novelist commented and faced his body towards you.

"Well? How was your impression over the off collab?" He asked as he eyed you curiously and rest his head on the back of his hand. You turn to him and frowned a moment, "It was great, I'm enjoying almost everything we did." You replied and let out a small laugh at the memories of your off collab with the Novelist the past few days.

"Mhm?" His eyes are still glued on you, as if he's trying to find something in you that you're trying to hide from him. "Is that all?" He asked as he smile towards you, your heart flutters. Your stomach are getting butterflies, "W-what else do you expect me to say, Ike?" You stuttered and immediately looked away. Trying to hide your flustered face. Earning a laugh from the Novelist, "No no, it's nothing. You're so cute haha" you pout a little and peek at him.

"you're very teasy today." You said and looked away again, "oh, am I now? Maybe I'm high on energy drinks." He replied, letting out a small laugh before laying back to the couch. "But seriously, thank you for doing this with me. I can't thank you enough." He said and looked over at you before smiling genuinely, your eyes soften and you let out a chuckle. "I'm also thankful, I'm glad we can do this together Ike." You replied and laid back to the couch a few meters away from the Novelist.

The silence between both of you are comforting somehow, you slowly turn your head to Ike. He's closing his eyes, head resting at the couch. His adam apple moved ever so slightly, you can see it very clearly it moved, that made yourself tempted to touch it. But you didn't. You don't want to be called a weirdo for doing that, you probably will also interfere his personal space. And you don't want that.

You didn't realize you were staring at him for quite sometime, making the Novelist raise a brow and just let you stare for a little bit longer before commenting on it. "Enjoying yourself, (Y/n)?" You looked up at the Novelist that's also staring back at you, your face went red. Making Ike taken a back a little before letting out a small laugh, "I-I uh didn't mean to stare at you." You stuttered and bury your face in your palms.

"It's okay, you're so red by the way." Ike replied and slowly reaching his hand out to pat your head, when you feel his hand on top of your head you raise your head a little and peek through your fingers. He's smiling at you and tilt his head a little, "Hm?" You flinched and hide yourself again.

"I swear I didn't mean to stare.." you tried to explain but you can't even look at Ike properly, he's just. Making you nervous, and with your crush on him making yourself having a difficult time to calm down. "Take your time to calm down, (Y/n)." He gently whispered at you before moving his hand away from your head, you miss the warmth of his hand already.

You slowly put your hand down and stared at them for a moment, "Hey, Ike..?" You called out the Novelist. "Yes?" He replied. Your heart is racing, should you confess your feelings now? It's better doing it now than doing it in text no? But-

"(Y/n)?" Ike's call snap you out of your thoughts, "What's wrong?" He asked getting worried about you suddenly being silent. "I.. uhm, want to say something.. but uhm, you can also say no immediately if you don't feel the same. Okay?" You said making the Novelist stared at you curiously. "Okay.." he replied and fixed his position facing you properly.

"I, have feelings for you Ike. More than a friend.." your voice are getting smaller at the end of your sentence, "Oh, (Y/n)..." The way his voice softens make you close your eyes tight. Ready for the waited rejection, "I, didn't expect you to do it ahead of me.." Ike continued.

You suddenly felt a hand on your cheek, "Look at me, (Y/n).." he whispered as you slowly open your eyes and look up at him. His eyes filled with love and admiration, "You and I are now together.. I also have feelings for you.." he continued.

His eyes widen a bit when he sees you start crying, "Ike.. I- I was afraid.." your sobs making the Novelist's heart ache "oh, darling.." he pull you into a hug and proceeds to kiss your head. To comfort you, "it's okay.. let it out, I'm here for you. Not as a friend..

But as your lover."

Shu Yamino

"Eyy, Thank you for today (Y/n)-!" Shu thanked you as he helped you packing up the devices you used for the off collab, "Today was pretty tiring huh?" You said as you both finished cleaning up. Earning an identic V-shaped smile from the sorcerer, "yeah, but you did great (Y/n), don't worry." He commented and proceeds to sit down on the couch and looked over at you a little.

"You too Shu, not just me, we both did great. And I'm just glad both of us enjoyed every second of it." You replied at his statement and let out a breathy laugh, "anyway, are you hungry?" You ask the sorcerer. "I kinda do, yeah. Wanna order something? Or are you gonna cook?" He ask as you frown for a moment. You then tut, "You can cook too why am I the only one that's cooking." The Raven laughed.

"Actually forget cooking, I was wondering about something (Y/n)." Shu tried to change the topic, you pouts and go along with him. "Yeah? What is it?" You ask him, eyeing him with curiosity. "Mhm, I was wondering about having feelings towards someone." He continued, your heart skips a beat. "Oh? Are you perhaps, interested in someone?" You ask, earning a nod from the sorcerer.

Shu Yamino having a crush? On who?

How long does he have a crush on them?

Do you even have a chance to be with him?

".. was wondering if I should... (Y/n)?" He stopped in the middle of his explaination and looked over at your quiet figure, "(Y/n)? Are you there?" The sorcerer asked as he slightly wave his hand in front of your vision, making you blink a few times and looked over at the Raven.

"hi." He greeted you before breaking into laughter, you immediately went red as you listen to his laugh. "Shu..! S-stop laughing already." You stuttered but then you joined him laughing in the end anyway, his laugh is contagious.

"Did you, even listen to what I'm saying??" Shu asked as he tried to take some deep breaths after laughing for quite sometime, "I'm sorry I was, trying to imagine you having a crush on someone..." You replied as you also try to gain some breath. And realization hits you after you said it, Shu looked over at you for a moment with his identic V-shaped smile.

"As impossible as it sound, it is possible for me having a crush on someone (Y/n). I'm human too you know." He said and frowned a little before eyeing you curiously, "how about you? Do you have a crush on someone?" He ask before sitting down facing you. You stared at him, in silence. Making the sorcerer confused and looked around him checking if there's something wrong, he then look back to you. "What?" He asked as he tilted his head a little,

"What do you think? Do I look like i have a crush on someone?" You ask him, the Raven blinked a few times and frowned. "Yeah? I think you do, right now. I think. I'm not sure.." he replied making you smile sheepishly, "Okay okay, yes, I have a crush on someone." You continued, before looking away for a moment before turning back to Shu.

"Don't you, ..wanna know?" You slowly ask him, "Hm? Oh, well, if you want to tell me who, go ahead" he said and turn his head facing you. "Don't force yourself to tell me okay?" he continued. "I won't, don't worry."

"So, the person that I'm having a crush on is, a sorcerer." You didn't mention his name, you want to see his reaction. "A sorcerer?" The Raven haired male went quiet trying to figure out who could it be, "he call his viewers Yaminions.." then it clicked.

Shu looked over at you surprised, but his expression barely showing that he's surprised. "M..e?" He tried not to be too confident in his answer, "Forget it--" "It's me-??" Shu cuts you off in the middle of your sentence. Before you could stand up and ran away the sorcerer hold your wrist and looked up at you expectantly, "(Y/n), it's, me?" He asked one more time. You looked away trembling a little, he then loosen up his grip on your wrist but not lose enough to let your hand escape.

"it's, okay Shu, forget it. That's very embarrassing. I shouldn't have confessed like that-" "No, I want to know, is it really me? Because it sounds.." you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"Yes, it is you. I like you Shu Yamino."

. . .

"..too"

You looked over at the Raven, staring at him with that confused look on your face. "Pardon me..?" You said trying to make him repeat what he said, "Me too, I like you too.. though, Maybe I should've done it first.." the Raven said and chuckled sheepishly.

You looked at him, surprised at his confession.

Shu, reciprocated your feelings.

You without realizing, start tearing up. Making the sorcerer panic a little, "Come here.." he whispered as he gesture you to come closer. And you did, he gently caress your hair locks and drawing shapes on your back. Comforting you, with his own way.

"Want to cuddle?"

"Mhm."

"Then come closer, If you're that far, we can't cuddle properly."

©fakesimp

A/n : I was wondering if I should open my request or not now after receiving this request.

Oh also, thank you for requesting anon darling, I'm glad you drop a request, it means a lot even though I don't open it yet because I don't feel confident enough that my writing will exceeds your expectations.

But I do hope you like this. This took me a whole day to write.. huhu, I'm sorry if it's very ooc. Once again gomenn (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠).

[fueledbyapplepi]

Twenty Steps Backward, One Step Forward | Shinichiro Sano

-Twenty times you rejected Shinichiro, and one time you didn't.

warnings: none

genre: fluff, angst

A/N: When I found out that he got rejected 20 times, I know that I need to write something about it. Although I'm not really sure if writing this at 1 A.M while listening to Lorde then Frank Ocean was a good idea (｡•́︿•̀｡)

If there's one thing you want to tell your younger self, it's telling them to take risks and say "yes".

But time travel doesn't exist. Well, maybe it does, but not in your realm anyway. And every decision you've made in the past made you who you are now. There can't be any room for regret.

You looked at Shinichiro. Your eyes wrinkling from how wide your smile is.

"Shinichiro-san, do you remember the first time you confessed to me?" You laughed, remembering the memory.

-

Your mother always taught you to stay away from bad boys for they are only trouble knocking on your door. And that's what exactly you're doing.

You know Shinichiro Sano as an owner of S.S Motors, where you're a usual customer. You must say, the man's great at getting the job done.

It's not like you're a member of a gang or a professional biker. It's just that you enjoy taking rides on your motorcycle that your mother gave you. But being on the streets every once in a while made you familiar with the man.

Other than being an owner of the bike shop, you know Shinichiro as the leader of the Black Dragons. One famous gang around Tokyo at that time.

While for Shinichiro, you're not just another customer. The moment you first stepped into his shop, you already captivated him. So when you asked him to customize a few parts for your bike, he decided to take it slowly. Just so you'll come by and check on more often.

He didn't dare to ask you out at first. Well, because he wanted to test the waters first and he didn't want to scare you away. So it took about three visits from you when he had the guts.

"Y/N-san, you're beautiful and kind. Honestly, I would love to take you out on a date some time" Shinichiro smiled at you while scratching his head. Honestly, he isn't expecting an answer right away.

"Shinichiro-san, don't get the wrong idea. I'm only here as your customer. Nothing else." You smiled kindly at him. You'll be lying if you say that Shinichiro isn't attractive. But then again, you want to stay away from trouble as much as possible.

-

You bit your lip as you reminisce the first time he asked you out. If you just knew that you'll end up being with the man, you would've said yes.

Your hand grazed over Shinichiro. "I remember it all too dam well in my heart."

-

There are two things that Shinichiro is bad at fighting and giving up.

It has been a week since your motorcycle has been fully customized by Shinichiro himself. And you can't help but be impressed every time. From the polished and flawless paint job to the customized seat, you got to give it to the Shinichiro.

The only thing you can't give to him is your "yes" to the date he's been asking for. As much as it is tempting, you knew that he'll only break your heart.

15 or 19? You've honestly lost count on how many times you rejected him. He kept pestering you even though you're not his customer anymore.

From a bouquet, a box of chocolates, and waiting for you after your work, Shinichiro kept on asking you for a date.

He even attempted to ask you out over a cheesy pick-up line.

"Hey Y/N, you look like someone I know."

"And who might be that?"

"My future s/o."

Well, who is he to give up though? He became a leader of Black Dragons for his determination. And he's not backing down on you.

Although, he would sometimes feel like a fool from the rejections he got from you. Is there something missing from him? You never said he isn't your type, so what could be wrong?

He could only take several rejections from you. So maybe 21st times the charm? Maybe this time, he'll be able to pursue you.

After work, you once again saw Shinichiro leaning on his bike waiting for you

"Shinichiro, I already told you-"

"Y/N," Shinichiro walked over to you and held your hand in between his. "Just one date. If you don't like it, I'll never bother you again. I swear."

The heart wants what it wants. Maybe Shinichiro is trouble, maybe not. One date wouldn't hurt, won't it?

And that was one of the happiest days of Shinichiro. While it was a day of experience for you. Something that'll be treasured in your heart forever.

It wasn't anything special. You and Shinichiro only rode around Tokyo that night. Enjoying the breeze, night lights, and your youth.

But one thing you won't forget that night is how you two danced under a lamp post. Particularly, the one in front of your house.

"Well, I wasn't able to get a date at my prom and you weren't able to attend yours. So, care to share a lovely dance, Y/N?"

-

It felt like a dream. A long-lived one. What you thought was trouble knocking on your heart was an angel in disguise.

Everything all seemed like it just happened yesterday.

That one "yes" you answered to Shinichiro is something that you'll never regret. But maybe, if you would've said yes to him sooner, you might have had more chances to spend time with him.

Maybe you would've built a family sooner. One thing that you and Shinichiro have dreamt.

You feel your heart clench at the memory. "I'm sorry, Shinichiro," your cheeks felt wet from the continuous tears falling from your eyes. "I couldn't do anything."

It's been years since Shinichiro left you. But time still won't fly around you.

You took a deep breath and leaned your forehead against the cold marble of his grave. Trying to feel some possible warmth from him.

All you could do is remember the twenty times you rejected Shinichiro and the one time that changed your life.

His absence forever leaving a void in your heart.

[ptergwen]

Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??

abort mission

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst

a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too

-

“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.

he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.

every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team. 

so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.

“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.

“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.

“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.

“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.

you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.

“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”

you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”

you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.

his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”

you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”

the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.

“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.

“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.

“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”

your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.

“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.

“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.

he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.

peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.

“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.

you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.

peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.

frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.

“fan-fucking-tastic.”

-

you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.

it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.

he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.

there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.

you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.

“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”

you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.

you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.

“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.

you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.

“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”

it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.

“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.

“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.

you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.

“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.

“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”

peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.

“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”

“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.

yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.

[niskoo]

Memories kept in the pink hoodie

pairing: Ex! Heeseung x reader

genre: angst, fluff in the end ig, breakup! AU

warnings: swearing, uhhh they like break down together

word count: 2.2k words OMG

a/n: another one of my requests!! thank you all for the ideas its really helping!! mmm this one was very interesting to write because i usually write crack/fluff, aaannndd ive literally never done anything ive written IURHWIU thank you for the great idea anon <33 THIS HELPED SO MUCH OMG USUALLY MY ANGST SUCKS BUT IM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS AAAA ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS WASNT REALLY WHAT YOU WANTED IDK THERE ALWAYS HAS TO BE FLUFF IN MY IMAGINES IG 😓😭

feel free to request and help get rid of my writers block!!

a bit based off of 'try again' by jaehyun and d.ear

You should've known the consequences of dating an idol, you should've been careful. Of course they wouldn't let you be together, he's in one of the rising groups, heck, he was in one of the biggest companies.

It wasn't necessarily the company's fault you were so heartbroken, it's both your faults. You couldn't help but blame each other for how careless you were. You know better than to make things worse, and yet you did.

The evening you go back to his dorm after being confronted by the company, you two started a huge argument of who's fault it was. Either it was his fault for not taking caution during work, or your fault for always checking up on him. All loving actions in the past became reasons for why you should break up, thus cracking your relationship further.

When you went home that night, with your backpack full of your things, you did nothing. You didn't cry, you didn't rage, you simply thought that this was the end, you felt guilty that it had to end like this, instead of just working it out and breaking it off peacefully.

Your heart was left cracked and hurt for sure, but this time, you blame yourself. You shouldn't have met him, you shouldn't have got to know him, it's all your fault. And for the first time that night, you cry.

Your heart clenched at every thought of having to leave Heeseung, more tears falling at the fact that he's not gonna be a part of your life anymore. He's gone, and it's all your fault.

It's when you unpack your things when you realize you still have a bunch of things left at his place, you realize you never want to go back and face him.

You leave your stuff there for the next 2 days, your heart still unready to confront and be reminded of the fact that Heeseung is gone. Unfortunately, he has other plans.

Your phone lights up, and the last name you want to see is lighting the phone up.

'Hey... you left some of your stuff.'

You instantly turn your phone off, breaths picking up as you quickly look away from it and finish your lunch. You can feel the anxiety filling your body as you notice it light up once again, and it swarms in your chest even more when your mother winces at the next text.

You put down your spoon, quickly glancing at the text.

'If you want, you can come by and pick them up? I'll pack them for you...'

Your heart clenches yet once again, you know it's true, literally half your stuff is still there and you have to pick them up. You unlock your phone, quickly sending an 'okay' before completely shutting your phone down. You wouldn't stand a second more looking at his contact.

You decide to go at 11, because that's when the other members are at the company training. You don't know if Heeseung's gonna be there to give you your things, a part of you hopes he is, another hopes he's not there. But then again, who else would open the door for you?

You stand outside the familiar door nervously, picking on your nails and the lint on the hem of your cardigan. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, and instead of your ex boyfriend standing there it's the youngest of the group, his eyes wide and puffy lips parted.

As usual, he woke up late. You can't help but chuckle as he picks his shoes up and scurries down the stairs, bidding him a friendly goodbye.

You almost forget about Heeseung, but as you hear shuffling from inside, it all comes back.

You two share awkward glances, the tension slowly building itself back up. Instead of the heated, rage filled tension, this time the tension is guilty, and without each other knowing, yearning.

“T-this way,” Heeseung mutters tightly, eyes glued to the ground as he shuffled quickly to the living room. You follow along just a few seconds later, still processing the fact that this is the end. He could be gone out of your life after this, it’s your last chance to speak.

Your eyes slowly travel up when you stop, the beating of your heart quickening with the slight burning in your eyes. Lo and behold, there your things laid, ready for you to bring back home. You can’t help but notice how it’s packed completely how Heeseung would pack, neat and with care. It’s not too stuffed, it’s in the perfect place.

Biting at the dead skin of your lip, you trudge towards the duffle bag—his duffle bag—and kneel down to grab the handle. The moment you pick it up, you notice how the bag isn’t fully zipped, and a certain pink sleeve peaks out from the tiny space.

All too familiar, the pink sleeve was. It was the one he took from Daniel in I-land. He knew you loved it, for you loved the kid like your little brother. But, he can’t. It’s his, it’s his favorite, he can’t just give it to his ex.

You instantly place the bag down, the tears starting to well up in frustration and sadness. You zip open the bag and take the pink hoodie out, before shoving it into Heeseung’s chest, “Take it, Heeseung, Please don’t give it to me.”

It takes him a few moments, before Heeseung is shaking his head and handing it back to you. “No, it’s practically yours anyway. And you really like it right? It’s just a-“

“Don’t tell me it’s just a hoodie!”

You both are shocked at your sudden burst, frozen in your spot. Your breathing is heavy, like a weight is holding it down and slowing your breathing. There are tears keeping your cheek moist, warm, they stream down continuously, the sensation as if there was fire dripping from your eyes and burning your skin.

Heeseung’s just on the verge of crying himself, the grip on the pink hoodie deathly, he feels the material ripping against his skin. How did it come to this? When did it even happen? It all feels surreal, to think what you two had could fall apart.

All the happy moments in your relationship fading to memories, the hoodie representing the fact itself is true. None of you wanted to take it, afraid it would remind you of the other.

Deep down, you wanted to keep it, keep the memories it held, keep the tears that once soaked it when you vented all your stress to him, keep the scent of Heeseung that lingered on the fabric. You were just too afraid of being reminded that along with the happy memories, came the sad memories of the night you fought and broke it off.

Your grip on the poor hoodie eases, as you slide to the floor helplessly with tears messing your face up. You desperately wanted to hold the pink piece of clothing and keep it forever, and another part of you cursed at you for being too vulnerable.

Your hand quickly wipes away the tears on your cheeks and chin harshly, almost hitting yourself for being so sensitive. Before you could do the action again, a softer grasp is stopping your hand, Heeseung’s other hand reaching up to brush the tears away dearly, blowing your hair away from your face.

Before you could even bring yourself to stop, you’re already reacting to his touch, cowering into his hold and placing your hand over his on your cheek, almost intertwining them together.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his palm, your other hand reaching up to grasp at his t-shirt. You’re sorry for so many reasons, for not being careful, for all the things you said in the argument, for making a sudden commotion just because of a stupid hoodie. “I’m so sorry...”

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Heeseung grabs you into his infamous embrace you would hate to leave, stroking your back with patterns just the way he knew you loved, just the way it would calm you down. “We’ll be alright.”

More tears fall between your eyelashes, dripping and soaking into Heeseung’s shoulder as he himself sniffles quietly into your hair. None of you want to leave each other behind, it’s the painful truth that you both can’t have, the truth you’ve always feared.

A sudden feeling of relief fills you up inside, his words reassure you in a way, we’ll be alright, you’ll be okay, it just had to leave his lips for you to believe it. You crawl closer to Heeseung, squeezing yourself in his bear hug, “We’ll be okay, we can make it right,”

A hoarse and hearty laugh leaves Heeseung, it shakes right by your ear as you press it against his chest, and he nods, “Yeah,”

He gently pulls your head back right in front of his, wiping the last of your tears and tucking the stray hairs back to the back of your ear, “Let’s just talk,” his whisper tickles your nose, causing you to lightly giggle at the feeling, his lips pressing softly against the pink tinted skin, “Make everything better?”

You nod, finally grasping at the pink hoodie and holding it tight to your chest as Heeseung laughs and bonks his forehead right on yours.

For the next few hours, you talk, make up, talk some more, maybe even a small cuddle, but that’s a secret. You make ramen for when the other members come back from practice, you feel happy to see the members thank you and eat with enthusiasm, you feel glad this is how your last moments together last.

Now you have the (practically ripped) pink hoodie in your arms as you bid the boys goodbye, slightly tearing up at the sight of them sadly waving, but you keep it in and continue your way back home, where you would tell your mom how you ended it on good terms.

And that night, you slip on the pink hoodie before you sleep, and you feel a piece of paper poking at your arm. You’re surprised to see a crumpled envelope poking out, your name written messily in blue ink.

You pull the envelope out quickly, opening it out with something bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you notice the handwriting as Heeseung’s.

‘My dear Y/n,

Hello there! I don’t know if i got the guts to make it right with you or if i pussied out and watched you as you drove away with regrets, but that’s what this letter is for. hopefully you didn’t throw this letter away hehe

i just wanted to thank you. for everything. your love, your care, your trust, Your happiness, thank you for everything you’ve given me. im sorry we had to end our journey, but know that you’ll be in my mind everyday. when we practice, I’ll remember your encouraging smile, when we win, I'll remember the fact that it’s you who gave me the courage to start this whole career.

i love you y/n. we’ll both probably find our other person in the future, but you’ll forever be in my heart as my first love, my first heartbreak, my best memory. thank you for helping me through my hardest times, thank you for helping the other boys through their worst times, especially jungwon, he’ll miss you the most.

i guess this is goodbye, y/n. not forever, of course, but for some time. thank you for everything, i hope you enjoyed the times we had together as much as i did.

with all the love in my heart,

Lee Heeseung :)’

You wipe at your tears for the nth time that day, folding the paper back into the envelope. “Fuck you Heeseung, you’ve ruined my makeup again!” You curse under your breath as you slip the letter into a certain box at the corner of your bedside table, patting your cheeks one last time.

You truly cherish the memories you had with Heeseung. You hope he does too.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

“So that’s how you want to play this, love?" | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey My Lovelies! I hope all is well today! I received a request ages ago from @activist-af to do something like this, as you will read below. I honestly aimed to fit the movie night theme in there but it was swallowed up pretty fast! I only meant for this fic to be 3000 or so words but, as it always seems to do, it got away from me.I truly hope that you enjoy this, you've given me an unwavering amount of support these past few months while I was battling a major bout of depression and writers block. I can't repay all the kindness and love you've given me but I hope this is a start! Much love darling! And much love to all of you lovelies! Please have a fantastic evening for me! <3

Please read before continuing: I usually wouldn't write this much before my story but I wanted to add this: this story is my first full blown smut. I'm honestly not sure how well it will go over but I tried to make it as loving and healing as I could. I take my writing very seriously. I know sex for many is a touchy subject, and that truly pains me. I sincerely hope every single one of you reading this feels all the love and saftey I tried to incorporate into this peace. I wish you an eternity of love and healing. Be safe my loves!

Request: "Could u do a mikaelson boys x reader? Any plot really, but I’d very much love it if it was a bit more Kol focused. there’s just such a lack of content for all three of them and I love your writing so much. If u need any plot point ideas maybe a movie night kinda thing? I really hold him a bit higher than the other boys. Or something similar to the fic with the Klaus + Eli being injured? Fluffy ending please, smut is fantastic too 🖤"

Description: Y/n is upset that the boys won't let her come on their mission with them, feeling isolated and useless. Kol is supposed to stay behind and watch out for her however things get heated after she tells him off.

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, mainly Kol and Elijah

Warnings: THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!! This is a full blown smut, I honestly do not know how it happened, probably 4000/5000 words are pure sex scenes, also there's a bit of fighting/angst at the beginning of the first scene but it doesn't last

Word count: 5343 (I'm so sorry)

Tags: ANGST, SMUT (full on), FLUFF

(Pics aren't mine but the moodboard is :) )

“I really don’t see why you guys are leaving me behind, again,” you run an agitated hand through your hair, huffing indignantly at the two boys in front of you.

Yes, boys. Not men. If they aren't going to treat you like the full grown woman you are then no way in hell are you going to give them any validation either. Even in your head.

“It’s too dangerous,” Elijah’s chocolate eyes are stern, his hands clenching at his sides, “I can’t risk the witches doing anything to you as a way to get to us. You’re too important.”

Your chest warms slightly at his words but it isn’t enough to break down your resolve. Three hundred years under your belt; they’re going to need to do better than that if they want to keep you away. There are only so many times you can stay away from a fight, only so many times you can watch them come home hurt knowing that if you had gone with them then maybe you could have prevented it. You’re a family and you’re tired of feeling like you aren’t pulling your weight.

You narrow your eyes at the tall boy, still not man, trying to peer through all the red you’re seeing, “I’m not a child, Elijah.”

He stares right back, not backing down, his face cut like marble, unwavering. Beautiful but harsh. Stone. He wears a white shirt, the first button popped and the sleeves rolled to his forearms. His veins are prominent and tempting. Elijah means business. You swallow the lump in your throat, pushing away the heat growing in your stomach.

“Love, trust me, we know you aren't a child. Any other time I would gladly rip you upstairs and prove it. Right now, though, I agree with him. You’re staying here,” Klaus’ softer voice pulls your attention from your staring match with the eldest Mikaelson.

He has a leather jacket on, the material clinging tight to his arms, ready to burst. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his crystal eyes. He folds his arms neatly in front of him. He’s not going to budge either.

You scoff at him, shaking your head, “I want to come, Klaus. I need to.”

A new voice joins the three of you in the foyer, “I can make that happen, darling, but you’ve got to stay home with me if you want that.”

You don't even need to turn around to hear the smirk on Kol’s voice but you do anyway, meeting the youngest Mikaelson face to face. He has a grin on his lips, one that, in any other situation, would have you weak in the knees. He has a sweatshirt on and a pair of sleep shorts. He’s on babysitting duty, he doesn’t need anything else. You only roll your eyes at him before facing Elijah once more.

“I’m part of this family, too, you know. It should be my choice,” you have to will your voice not to crack, keeping your tone as low and as steady as you can, “I’m not useless, Elijah, as much as you’d obviously disagree.”

You rub your hands over your bare arms, fending off a sudden chill. You feel like there’s ice coursing through your veins. A traitorous tear tracks down your cheek but you make no move to get it. Elijah’s hardened face softens when he notices.

“Baby, come on,” he reaches to grab you but you step back, not allowing him to touch you.

He can’t do that, make the decisions for you. Maybe if you were still human it would be called for but now it’s not. Sure, you aren't a millennium like they are but you’re not a piece of glass either. You’re strong, whether they want to acknowledge it or not.

“Don’t, Elijah,” you back away further, your cheeks drenched but your eyes fierce, “I’ll see you guys in a few days. Be safe.”

You turn and walk away, ignoring all three brothers as they call out to you, heading up to your room before any of them decide to follow you. You close the door, not slamming it but not exactly shutting it gently either. You can hear Elijah sigh from the front hall and you know he’s tugging on his hair. Klaus swears, his frustrated voice floating up to your ears. More tears fall but you brush them away angrily, lifting a pillow from your bed and screaming into it. No doubt they can hear it but, right now, you couldn't care less. The front door shuts and your heart plummets.

You sit on the edge of your bed, gripping your dark comforter tightly. Usually you like being the one they take care of. You like being held, how small they make you feel. Right now, though, it’s too much.

A soft knock draws your attention to the door, Kol’s careful voice cutting through the wood, “darling?”

“Leave me alone, Kol,” you try your best to make your words harsh but you only sound tired.

“Not likely, love,” he presses, “you know I can go all night, now it’s up to you what that means.”

Your cheeks flush and, as if he can see you through the door, he chuckles. The sound echos through your chest, stirring the remains of anger and frustration and mixing them with something hot and untamed. You pull the door open, coming face to face with the smirking Mikaelson.

“Sorry you landed with babysitting duty, Kol, but I’ve kept myself alive for three hundred years now and I’m pretty sure I can handle two more days on my own. Why don’t you go help Elijah and Klaus, yeah? Seeing as you are the only three who can actually do any good. I’m clearly not strong enough to do anything so I’ll just sit here and look pretty and do absolutely nothing at all because I’m useless. Okay?”

With that you close the door in his face. Well, you try to but he wedges his body in the way so you can’t shut him out. Whatever smile had previously been on his face is long gone and in its place sits a deep frown. His brown eyes ice over slightly and he stands taller than he did mere seconds ago. You can feel a switch in the atmosphere and suddenly you’re face to face. You honestly can’t tell which one of you is more pissed off.

“So that’s how you want to play this, love,” he pushes closer to you, “you want to get angry, yeah? Alright darling, I can do that.”

You open your mouth to protest but before any profanities can fly out his lips are on yours, fierce and strong. He uses his foot to kick the door closed, slamming it into place. It’s done merely for effect. No one is home but the two of you. He spins you around aggressively, pushing you roughly against the hardwood. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, no doubt drawing blood. As if on cue a copper taste fills your mouth, drowning your senses in red. This time, though, the anger is mixed with a wicked kind of lust.

Your hands find his hair without your permission, tugging harshly at the roots. He groans into your mouth, a sound that makes you want to slap him across the face and wrap your legs around him all the same. His hand snakes around your waist, squeezing your hip with a fervour that will no doubt leave bruises that will take longer than usual to heal. He pushes against you, every single part of him rock hard.

“God fucking damnit, Kol,” his lips find your throat with painful ease, sucking the sensitive skin into his mouth in a way thats just this side of painful over pleasurable.

Right now, though, you crave every bit of pain that Kol lays on you. In a sick way you’re proving that you can take it. That you’re strong enough to do the things that they do. Another flash of red floods your vision when you think of the other two Mikaelson's who refused to let you help. You drag one of your hands down Kol’s back, scratching hard enough for him hiss against your neck.

He jerks away from you quickly, only long enough to rip the sweatshirt over his head before he attacks your neck again. He sinks his teeth in at the same moment he rips your tank top in half, lulling you into that sweet mixture of pleasure and pain, hate and lust once more. His shoulders are deliciously toned under your searching fingers and this time when you drag your nails down his back you know you draw blood. Serves him right anyway.

“Fuck, baby,” he wraps a hand around both of your wrists, pinning your hands above your head, “that kinda hurt.”

You want to claw the smirk off of his face. Or kiss it. You can’t quite decide. His other hand is slowly sliding up your back, inching towards the clasp of your bra. His eyes burn into yours, the inferno behind them nothing less than intense. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears so loud it’s almost hypnotic when combined with the tantalizing draw of his hand. It lulls you into a false sense of security, your eyelids heavy in anticipation. He stops moving when his fingers are about to undo the hooks.

He pushes his hips closer to yours, locking you between his body and the door. His stomach is hot against yours and cut like marble. Your fingers itch to feel every bump and dip with agonizing intricacy. Every inch of your skin is alight, every hair raised waiting for anything to happen. You can feel every breath he takes as if it’s your own, your covered breasts just barely grazing him with each rise and fall of his chest. It’s delicious torture.

“Before we go any further here, I need to know what you want. Do you want some quick fuck that’s going to leave you more angry when it’s done?” He rolls his hips against yours, sending sparks flying through your body at the first real touch you’ve had tonight, “or do you want me to make love to you like you know I can. And make all these terrible feelings go away. It’s your choice, darling?”

His words tangle and knot in the pit of your stomach, weaving through the white hot hatred that had been building in your stomach until it explodes. They hit you right at the source like missiles aimed with the utmost precision to destroy every bit of anger left in you. Tears prickle at the edge of your vision, your senses overloaded from the sudden loss of your fury. All that’s left in its wake is this gut wrenching feeling of not being good enough. It’s the original problem and he just effortlessly broke through to it.

“I,” you tug your bruised lip between your teeth, if only to keep it still, “make it go away, Kol. Please.”

“That’s all I want to do, darling.”

He releases your wrists, opting instead to haul your body into his arms and slamming his lips against yours once more. You waste no time running your freed fingers down his sculpted chest, admiring the way his muscles tense as he holds you up. You push yourself as close to his body as you can get, wrapping your legs around his taught stomach and clinging on for dear life. He kisses you slowly, as if drawing all the negative energy out of your body with his lips.

He walks the two of you backwards towards your bed, sitting on the edge, leaving you straddling his hips in the most delicious way. You push your hips to bring you closer together, wanting to feel every part of him that you can. He meets every movement with his own energy, wrapping an arm around you back to keep you pressed against him. Your body is warming up once more in his arms.

He pulls his lips from yours reluctantly, his hand snaking back to the clasp on your back, “this needs to go.”

You shiver at the light touch of his fingertips on your spine, arching with the click of the hooks coming undone. He pulls the lace from your chest slowly, his thumbs grazing down your arms, memorizing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His eyes meet yours again and he drops the fabric on the ground next to your bed. His hands, now resting on your hips, trail fire up your stomach as they trace their way over your ribs.

“Kol, please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, reveling in the warmth of his chest so close to your own, “I need you.”

There’s a glint in his eye again but this time you don’t want to slap him. No this time you want him to do heavenly things to every part of you. You want him to take the last remains of this awful feeling and snuff it out with his mouth. His hands finally crest the remainder of your ribcage, his thumbs teasing the underside of your breasts with tantalizingly careful circles. Tears sting your vision again from all the pent up energy inside of you.

“What shall I do, darling,” his thumbs draw along the sides of your breasts, stoking the untameable fire in the pit of your stomach once more, “tell me how you want me to touch you.”

His fingers dance closer to their target, each stroke driving your brain further into it’s Kol induced frenzy. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can smell is the boy in front of you.

“Kol,” his name falls from your lips in a desperate moan, “please just do something, god.”

He chuckles, a sound that flows like honey and wraps around every inch of you like silk. His eyes sear into your own, daring you to break his stare but you don’t. You can’t

“Well I could do this.”

His thumbs roll over your hardened nipples, as if to punctuate his words, and you see stars. You don’t even try to stop the moans that tumble from your lips, turning to clay in his hands. You give him free reign to mould your body in any way he desires, as long as hands never leave your skin. He pinches each bud between his fingers gently, pulling more praises from deep within you. His eyes never leave your face, drinking in each expression with unashamed greed.

“Or maybe I could do this.”

You know what’s coming when he leans forward, It’s quite clear what his intentions are. However, what you aren’t expecting is for the first gentle nip to send you so violently crashing over the edge that you have to squeeze your thighs around him to avoid falling off the bed. He doesn’t stop when you cry out and you don't want him to. Every swirl of his tongue around your nipple sends you spiraling further into the sweet oblivion he’s created just for you. He rocks his hips against yours while his mouth assaults you, pressing the delicious hardness against you while you fall apart.

He detaches his lips from your lips when you start to come down from your high, kissing his way up your sternum, over your collar bone, before settling on your throat.

“So beautiful darling,” he pulls your skin into his mouth as if he didn't just get enough just moments ago, “so damn beautiful.”

You press down on his hard length again, pulling a groan from deep within his chest, “I want all of you, Kol. Please.”

That's all the encouragement he needs to flip the two of you over and lay you on your back. He kneels between your legs, hooking his thumbs in your plaid sleep shorts and pulling them off much faster than he had down with your bra. He’s more than warmed up now, something that excites you to no end. You’re left laying in a pair of black lace panties that match the bra on your floor.

Kol’s eyes go dark at the sight, a growl that hardens your nipples again rumbling through the air. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh before pulling the lace off of you once more and adding it to the growing pile of clothes. He kisses the junction of your thigh next, sending electricity rippling through your body. It restarts the heat once more and the familiar wildfire rips through your abdomen. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to stand many more orgasms if each one is to be like the first.

“Please just make love to me, Kol, I need to feel you.”

He lifts his head from your thighs, a sight that you will never grow tired of, and his eyes set ablaze, “I was made for nothing more.”

Your heart flutters rapidly in your chest, a warmth spreading like butter over your bones. He kicks his own shorts and boxers off quickly, moving back up your body to rest between your legs. You drink in the heat radiating off his body, allowing it to soothe the remaining ache leftover from your small throw down. His one hand slips under your head, lacing through your hair gently. The other reaches between you, lining himself up against your opening. The slightest touch of him against you is enough to have you mewling his name already.

He teases you slightly, taking his sweet time before pushing in. The first thrust is pure magic, filling you in the way that only Kol can. Each of you boys feel different. Kol lights every one of your nerves on fire with his slow movements. He makes you feel every deliberate movement. He makes you know that every circle of his hips, every time he joins you together is done to perfection exactly how he intends. Kol makes you aware of your entire body and just how much control he has over it.

He pulls back slowly before thrusting back inside of you hard enough to rock your bed into the wall. You clench around him without warning, pulling your name from his lips with mouthwatering ease and sending small shocks through your lower half.

“Christ, baby,” he rocks his hips deeper into yours, burying himself all the way inside you, “how are you so close again already.”

You giggle quietly from underneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips and rolling your own to meet his thrusts. Your hands glide over his shoulders, soothing the scratches you left earlier. You draw his face to your own, pulling his lips down to graze yours. You want him to feel every word you say.

“Don’t play coy, you know exactly what you’re doing,” the end of your sentence is blurred with unrelenting moans.

His hand grabs your leg, pushing your knee to your chest before pushing you into the mattress with a world altering thrust, “you’re right darling, I just like to hear you say it.”

He closes the gap between your lips with another shattering push, your walls clenching harder than before around him again. You swallow each moan that slips from his mouth and into yours. His nutmeg scent clings to you and you know it will take days to scrub him off of you, not that you want to. You could very well spend the next century wrapped up in Kol in every single way possible.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you with controlled ease. Your hands lace through his hair, keeping him as close to you as possible. Your senses are overwhelmingly heightened, allowing you to feel every damned inch of him. You’re in serious danger of falling apart. The fiery ball in your stomach is at its peak once more. When he pulls your lip between his teeth, and you taste the crimson, it explodes.

This time you don't just see stars, you see the sun and the moon and every planet in the solar system. He continues to move in and out of you, drawing out the intensity of your orgasm as he rides his own out. You cling to him with everything you have, refusing to breathe anything but Kol. Everything in this moment is about him and the way he makes you feel. Nothing else matters anymore. Perhaps nothing even mattered before. All there is, all there has ever been, is this one moment.

When you finally land back on earth, he slowly pulls out of you, giving you one last taste of electricity before drawing you to lay on his chest. Your ears ring from the energy you just exerted at Kol’s mercy, your skin deliciously sticky against his own. You're completely and undeniably spent.

You don’t realize that you’re crying until you go to speak, “Kol.”

You feel the sharp inhale he takes rather than hear it. Before you can blink the fresh wave of tears away he’s flipped you around, laying between your legs again and propped up on his elbows. His face is pure concern, his eyebrows creased together in a way that makes you want to smooth every harsh line away. It makes you cry that much harder.

“Darling, talk to me,” he runs a soothing hand down your thigh, pulling you close to him, “what’s wrong baby?”

The tears pour faster at the gentle tone in his voice, drawing an answer to the surface before you even process what you’re saying, “Do they think I’m useless? Do you?”

Your voice is shattered, all the emotions from today coming together in yet another crescendo. You can hear your blood rushing through your ears, drowning out the sounds around you. It’s probably the reason you miss the footsteps pounding up the stairs. You can feel Kol’s soft caresses but just barely. The only thing registering in your mind is the feeling of being completely and utterly weak. Why do they keep you around if you can’t even hold your own?

“God’s no, never. Not even a little bit,” just as Kol speaks, the door opens.

Well, the door slams open, hitting the wall with a crack that echoes through the large house. Kol isn’t startled. He should be but he doesn’t even flinch at the bang. You, on the other hand, tense underneath him, the pounding in your ears still as intense as before. A woodsy scent flows through the now open doorway, pine mingling with your already nutty skin. The pieces start clicking together, albeit at a slower pace than you like.

You’re almost certain you know who’s in the doorway but you look anyway to make sure, “Elijah.”

His name is a whisper and it gets lost under Elijah's own words, his dark eyes searing into yours, “Kol, do you mind giving us a moment?”

Kol glances down at you, a small smile playing on his lips. You plead with him to stay but this is Kol, he’s your hell-raiser. He places a soft kiss on your forehead before he stands, still completely naked, and walks out of the room.

He pauses on the other side of the door, settling a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “careful brother, she scratches.”

Elijah shuts the door when he leaves, much gentler than he had been when opening. Your boys, always the ones for theatrics. He leans against the frame, folding his arms over his chest. You stand from the bed, trying to meet his height but failing. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand but it doesn’t do much to clear the droplets. He tracks your every movement with a fire raging behind his chocolate eyes. You’re painfully aware of how much of your skin is on display for him; that is, all of it.

“What,” you pause when your voice cracks, stealing a moment to compose yourself, “what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be off saving the day.”

He pushes off the door, taking a few steps towards you. You can see he's fighting back a lot of primal instincts. He's as affected by your lack of clothes as you are. His eyes shift rapidly between his usual brown and a deeper coal colour. Despite the situation, you can’t help the heat seeping from between your thighs. He stops a few feet in front of you. There’s no way he can’t smell you right now.

“I was needed elsewhere,” his eyes dip down momentarily, his jaw clenching, “by someone infinitely more important.”

You watch him squeeze his fists together, forcing his eyes to remain on yours. The determination in them is unwavering and fierce. He takes another step towards you.

“It seemed important a few hours ago,” you drop your eyes to your feet, breaking his stare.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him and, in turn, igniting your body, “I assure you it was not nearly as important as making sure that you’re ok.”

Your throat tightens, aching with the promise of even more tears. You wish you could just stop. You’re not afraid to cry but usually you can control it. Right now you can’t. Everything has been building, every little insecurity has pooled, and today was the chip in the damn needed to make the whole thing collapse. It’s too much.

“I’m not,” you wrap your arms tight around yourself, gripping your arms with bruising strength to try and hold back the tremors, “ I am not okay Eli. I feel so helpless. Everytime you come home bleeding and exhausted and where am I?” You run a trembling hand through your mussed hair, yanking at the roots, “Here. Always just here, useless, letting you and Klaus and Kol take it all for me. Am I really that weak? That I’m just extra collateral damage to worry about? What is it, Elijah?”

The words pour from you, each one making him flinch like he’s being hit by an invisible enemy. Every syllable is a bullet to his chest. His body tenses further, his eyes no longer holding any trace of their usual warm brown. Instead they're pitch black, the veins under his eyes a deep plum. The veins in his arms pop as well, his fists iron tight. He curses under his breath when you finish. His voice is gravelly and scrapes the deepest pit of your soul.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, whatever resolve he had been clinging to snaps. He pulls you towards him, wrapping his strong hands around your hips and lifting you against him, giving you a second to wrap your bare legs around his clothed hips.

“Elijah, what are you doing?” You cling to his chest, trying to avoid tumbling out of his arms when he begins walking you towards your bed once more.

He doesn't answer your question, laying you down against your ruffled comforter, “You aren’t collateral damage, baby.”

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, emanating from somewhere deep inside him. He opens the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before making it even halfway down his chest. He drops it, much like he Kol had not long before, next to your bed. Kicking off his shoes, he kneels on the bed, coming to rest between your thighs. The heat emanating from you is now a furnace and it in no way goes unnoticed by him. His dark eyes swim across your naked body, drinking in every inch.

“Eli-” whatever you’re going to say is obliterated when he leans down and attaches his lips to the crook of your thigh, dangerously close to being exactly where you need him.

“You aren't weak,” he moves to your other thigh, nipping at the delicate skin and pulling unintelligible murmurs from your throat.

He kisses his way to your center, the anticipation growing like a knot in your stomach, begging to be unraveled once more. Even in the midst of falling apart you can’t get enough of these men. He lays a soft kiss against you, offering you the slightest glimpse of what you know his mouth can do. In the exact same way you had with Kol earlier, every part of you craves Elijah.

Your body arches willingly to meet the first swipe of his tongue, his name falling from your lips like a praise, “you aren't a burden to me, you beautiful creature.”

You cry out as he works his mouth expertly against you, his words humming ecstasy into your skin, melting away any trace of doubt in your mind. His arms wrap around your thighs, bringing you as close to his face as he can get you. The sight of him completely engulfed in your heat is almost enough alone to send you tumbling right there and then over the edge.

“You mean more to me than anything else on this fucking earth,” his dark eyes meet yours as he works you dangerously close to breaking before letting up once more, “and if I have to spend every hour for the next hundred years worshipping you to prove it then consider it done.”

He lowers his mouth against you harder, sucking your electrified warmth with renewed vigour. Your hands seek out his hair, tugging him against you and raising your hips to meet every pass of his tongue. The smell of pine trees and sex envelope you, brining you the closest yet to the kind of high only Elijah can draw from you. In this moment you’re nothing more than entirely his.

“I cannot lose you, baby,” he slips a few of his fingers inside you, “please let me protect you. I need to. Please.”

He curls his fingers just as the last syllable rolls off his tongue and into your core, shattering you into a million tiny pieces. Your hands fist his hair as your body clenches around his hand, pulling a delectable groan from his lips. Your third orgasm almost puts you to sleep on the spot, each of your muscles completely exhausted. Elijah watches you come undone the entire way through, nothing less than reverent awe locked on his face.

He wastes no time pulling your spent body into his arms, wrapping you as close to him as he can manage. You bury yourself against his neck, admiring how even the most unassuming parts of him have an undue amount of strength. He truly is your warrior.

“Eli,” you yawn into his chest, basking in the warmth of his skin, “I can protect myself.”

He tightens his arms around you, “I know you can, baby, but you shouldn't need to. I’ve been searching my entire life for a meaning. A thousand years of trying to be honorable. Then I found you and, all of a sudden, it all makes sense. All the searching and fighting and pain finally has a purpose: to protect you. Let me take it for you. Please.”

You’re speechless, there isn’t anything else to it. His words hit you with immense power, sinking into your skin and settling around your bones. You’re his, all of theirs, to watch over. You really didn't know he felt this strongly. You’ve always had to defend yourself. Perhaps you just aren't used to someone else being so willing to take on that task. Someone begging to take it.

He stands suddenly, with you still in his arms, and walks out of your room, starting down the hall. The faintest sound of rushing water fills your ears, lulling you into a welcome daze.

“Where are we going, Eli?” You have yet to open your eyes, stuck in the soft between being awake and falling asleep.

He kisses your forehead, resting his head on yours, “Niklaus said he wanted to take a bath, my love.”

[jawabear]

Hi! Can I request a Javi fic? Where the reader is a coworker and is 🥺 kindhearted, caring and always tries to get along with everyone/see the good in everyone, but some people just take her for granted and use her kindness to their advantage/abuse her kindness. I feel like Javi wouldnt do that, or would sort of do that too in the beginning, but later on appreciate her. Oh and maybe she could feel upset over the fact she doesn't feel like she's working hard enough because someone insulted her work. Some angst/fluff,maybe? And I read that you're writing many things at once, I don't mind waiting, as long as you're feeling good~

When it goes to plan (Javier Peña x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: I’m so so so very sorry that this took so long Anon. But it’s here. And I hope you like it! I hope it’s what you were thinking. Enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: fem!reader, Javi questions himself a lot, Steve being Steve, Steve being a match maker, an unnamed co-worker being a bitch

Summary: Javier makes a plan of action, but second guesses himself so changes it. But plan A was the better option it turns out

It was quite the sight for Steve. To see his usually confident and cocky partner get all flustered in front of a pretty girl. It was usually the other way, the girl would fall for his charm and then fall into his bed. But not this one. She was special to Javi, she was the one girl he wanted to be with, but the one girl he couldn’t have.

The first time Steve had seen them interact, it had been a rough day, so he mistook his flustered manner to be that of frustration or exhaustion. But every interaction they shared since that revealed more and more truth.

Steve and Javier were sat at their shared desks in the centre of the room when she came walking down the steps. Javier did a double take towards her and watched her every move as she went to another woman giving her usual sweet smile as she spoke to her about something that Javi couldn’t hear.

Steve looked up from the file he was reading when the clicking from the typewriter suddenly stop. He saw that Javier’s eyes were trained on her. They held a softness in them, one he hadn’t ever seen in him before. True adoration for the young agent.

Javi’s face then turned bright red when she walked over to the two of them, his head shooting back around as he restarted in typing again.

“You need a hand with that (Y/N)?” Steve offered noticing the ever growing pile of papers in her hands.

“No, I got it” she assured with a smile as she set the pile down on there desk.

“Are they all for us?” Javier asked her as he lifted his head slightly, but he didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. So he just stared at the files.

“No. They’re already done. I was just going around collecting any people wanted me to take in. Do you guys have any?”

“Looks like you’ve got enough there (Y/N)” Javier gave her a soft smile “we can take ours up later”

“You sure?” She asked, he nodded “alright” she then lifted the pile back into her arms “see you later guys” Javi followed her with his eyes as she walked away from their desks and into Messina’s office.

He turned back to his typewriter, reading over the last few lines to remember where he was “so” Steve began “this whole waiting game is getting pretty old now”

“What are you talking about?” Javier muttered, only half paying attention to his partner.

“Oh come on Javi” Steve said as he leaned on his desk “you clearly like her”

“She’s a friend Steve”

“Yeah, only ‘cause you’re too scared to ask her out” Steve pointed out crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back smugly in his chair “you only have to ask and I’ll do it for you”

“I’m not 12 Murphy” Javi spat “I don’t need you to ask her out for me”

“So you’ll do it yourself then?”

“That’s not what I said. I’m not asking her out”

“Why not? Come on Javi. She’s a pretty girl. I’m sure she’d say yes”

Javier had given up on trying to reason with him, so he just went to ignoring him. But Steve kept talking about how great of a couple they would be and how he should definitely ask her out. But it was like white noise in Javi’s ears as he typed away on the typewriter information that probably didn’t make any sense anymore after being interrupted so many times.

It didn’t stop there, he brought it up at any given moment. And Javi was close to loosing his temper but he remained calm and somehow managed to get through the day without punching Steve in the face...

But that night Javier couldn’t sleep. Not that this was a rare occurrence to him. He was just thinking over Steve’s words. As annoying as it was, he knew Steve was right. And that bothered him.

Because now he was stuck in a loop of hearing Steve words in his head and see images of her beautiful face. Memories of her sweet smile and laugh.

And the memory of when they first met.

He admitted a long time ago that he certainly used her sweet and kind nature to his advantage. Basically using her for things he couldn’t he bothered to do simply because he knew she would do it no questions asked.

It was always the talk of the town when a new agent was being added to the DEA team in Colombia. People would often take bets on how long they would last before they were shipped back home either by their own accord or simply because they weren’t good enough. It had happened for before. But people also chattered about if it was someone they would know, someone they used to work with back in the states.

But this time, it was a complete new, fresh out the box agent that everyone was excited to meet. Not that Javi really cared about new people.

It was a few weeks in to the new agents being placed in Colombia and Javi was yet to meet them. He had caught wind of a few bits and pieces about them. That she was a woman. And that she couldn’t be very old. And that her name was (Y/N). As well as a few other things. One notable point was that she was defiantly a people pleaser. As in, she wanted to be liked. And by the way the others spoke about her, she would do absolutely anything to get people to like her.

This is what made Javi seek to peruse her. Mainly it was down to curiosity to see if what people were saying was actually true but also, on the more selfish side, to see if he could use her in anyway.

When he first laid eyes on her, he was immediately blown away by just how beautiful she was. People had failed to mention that. Form the first moment he saw her, she was smiling. Always smiling.

Javi didn’t know whether he should approach her or wait. If she were making her rounds in trying to meet everyone then he guessed she just hadn’t got round to his side of the embassy yet. But now that he had seen her, he wanted to make himself known to her as soon as possible.

Their first meeting was actually a little on the cold side. Probably because someone had tipped her off about what Javier Peña did with pretty girls. She was suspicious of him right from the start. But that didn’t stop her from trying to get him to like her.

(Y/N) always made sure to stop by his office to check in on him, to see if he needed anything or wanted anything. To which he always had an answer. Offloading a bunch of files to her or getting her to make him a coffee of something. She always complied.

But something of a better nature got to him and he toned down his heavy requests. But her persistently kind nature started to bug him. Not because he didn’t appreciate her sweetness, but because he couldn’t understand why she continued with this act when half the agents wouldn’t even give her the time of day.

So one day, he decided to confront her about it. But he did so in the complete wrong way.

“Do you have something to prove?” He asked her instead of thanking her for the coffee she had so kindly made him.

“What?” She asked, thrown off by his question.

“Are you trying to prove yourself to someone?” He asked again. He could see her thinking over his question but she looked genuinely confused about what it was he was implying.

“I-I...no?” She answered in a less than convincing tone, she wasn’t sure if that was the right answer to give.

“Then why are you so...nice all the time?”

“Is...is being nice a problem?”

“Well no” Javi sighed “look (Y/N), you’re a nice girl and all but this act you’ve got? You should’ve waste your time in being so kind to everyone else. Don’t expect them to be nice to you back”

“I don’t...that’s not why I’m nice to everyone. I don’t expect people to return the favour. I do it because...well someone needs to lighten the mood around here. Sometime people just need a little good in their lives, especially in this job”

Since then, Javi felt himself getting closer to her and they developed a sort of friendship. But Javi being who he was fell for her. Which was what he couldn’t admit to Steve. He couldn’t admit that Steve was right no matter how right he was.

But his feelings for (Y/N) were building up too quickly. He was close to bursting. Maybe he would just have to bite the bullet and ask her out. Proving Steve was right.

The next day, Javi had spent all morning hyping himself up for the big day. The day he would ask her out. But the closer he got to the embassy the more nervous he became.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. What if she said no? She hadn’t exactly let on that she feels more than friendship towards him. It was unlikely she would agree. But didn’t have to ask her to be his girlfriend right there and then right? He could just ask her out for a few drinks or something.

Yes. That was a better plan. Less intimidating too. Just ask her for a drink. That harmless.

In all his thinking and worrying, his feet and brought him right to the door of her office. He didn’t knock, he never did. But maybe he should’ve this time.

When he walked in, he saw her hunched over her desk looking somewhat sad and frustrated. She glanced up at him but he gaze didn’t remain there for long before she was looking back down at the paper she was writing on. Javier hadn’t ever seen her sad before. He didn’t think it was possible. She was always the one to be smiling. So now he wanted to know who or what had taken her smile from her...and from him.

“(Y/N)?” He said quietly as he closed her office door and came to take the seat opposite her “what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing...” she mumbled as she lowered her head, trying to ignore him. He portably should’ve taken the hint that she wanted to be alone and leave. But for some reason, he couldn’t. If it were anyone else, he probably would’ve, but because it was (Y/N), he couldn’t leave her alone. Not when she looked so upset.

“It can’t be nothing if it’s stopped you smiling” he said “come on, you can tell me”

Was it something he did? He quickly raked his brain in trying to think back to if he had upset her in anyway. He didn’t think he had. But then again, Javier Peña couldn’t ever tell if what he was doing was right or wrong.

(Y/N) let out a sigh and put down her pen, rubbing her hands over her face before looking at him. “Maybe you were right...” she said.

“About what?”

“About me...Maybe I should stop being so nice to everyone...”

“What’s makes you say that (Y/N)?” Maybe it was something he did. But why would she bring that up after so long? Did he do something else?

“One of the...one of the new agents” she muttered. Javi didn’t even know there were any new agents. “Apparently I’ve made a name for myself. And she doesn’t like it. So when I tried to welcome her here, she basically told me to fuck off and drop the act so I actually do my work properly”

“What the fuck?” Javi didn’t mean to say that, but he was angry that she had been treated that way. But he knew that perhaps it wasn’t so different to what he had said to her.

“I just...I wanted everyone to be a little happier in this job. I can’t help it if I’m nice to everyone...it’s just who I am” he watched as a tear rolled down her cheek. He lifted his hand and brushed it away with his thumb. “Is it...is it wrong? Am I wrong to to that?”

“No (Y/N)” he assured her “it’s not. I can tell you that everyone here appreciates it when you talk to them. You do make their lives here that much better with you constant joy. You’re good at what you do here. Both in your work and helping people. Don’t let one person put you down. It won’t be long until she is the one in need of your help”

“I’m sorry Javi” she said pulling her head away from his hand and wiping the tears away herself “I didn’t mean to...cry..”

“It’s fine. In a weird way, it’s kind of nice. Because it means that you get to be looked after rather than you having to look after everyone else” he gave her a soft smile that she returned making his heart flutter. “That’s better”

“What is?”

“Seeing you smile again” her cheeks turned a light shade of pink at his words “I love your smile”

“I love you”

There was silence in the room.

Did that actually just happen? Did she actually just say that?

Yes. She did. It was an accident. She hadn’t meant it but it was just in the heat of the moment. She meant it, she did love him, but it was just awkward to blurt it out like she did.

“What?” Javi asked quietly. She just stared at him with wide eyes. She knew she couldn’t take it back and if she said she didn’t mean it that could be even worse.

“What?” She asked back. Good play, (Y/N). Play dumb. Because that always works.

“You...you said you love me”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did”

“Oh god...” she whispered as she buried her face in her hands, muttering things to herself that he couldn’t make out.

“Do you?” He asked. She didn’t answer, she silenced herself but didn’t look back up at him. “I mean...I can’t say I love you. But I can say that I like you. A lot”

(Y/N) slowly lifted her head and looked at him. He showed no sign of wanting to backtrack his words unlike she did. “That was partly the reason I came here. Originally I came here to...ask you “out” as such. But...I changed it to just asking you if you’d like to get a drink with me later. But now I guess I can go with my original plan”

“S-So...you’re...asking me out?” She stuttered.

“Yeah?” He said in a questioning tone “I mean..I guess?”

She smiled gently to him and nodded “then I’m saying yes”

Javier didn’t know why he was surprised when she agreed, she had just confessed that she loved him. But still, he was overjoyed that she accepted his offer.

“So...would you like you to get a drink with me after work?” He asked.

She gave a light laugh and nodded “of course Javi”

So, despite all his worrying, things did go to plan. In a weird sort of way.

29/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan

[itsadamcole]

not my sister

fem!reader x tyler breeze

reader is keeping a huge secret from her brother, that she's dating Tyler Breeze. When reader's brother, Adam Cole, finds out that his sister and Tyler are in a relationship, things don't go well and someone gets hurt ...

word count: 3.2k+

warnings: slight angst, violence, fluff, smut

— this is the first time i'm writing an imagine with a name instead of "Y/N" so bear with me please —

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~ 18+ content below - read at your own risk ~

You sit in Tyler's dressing room with your legs across his lap on the couch. You're playing with his fingers. One of his arms is wrapped around your shoulders and your head is on his arm.

"I've been thinking," Tyler says, looking down at you. "We should tell Adam. I mean, he's your brother and he has no idea that we're together."

Sighing, you say, "You know how protective he can be, Tyler. He's not going to like that I'm dating one of his best friends."

Tyler looks down at you and says, "He won't like it even more if we continue to hide it."

Someone calls Tyler's name for his match with Fandango against Danny Burch and Oney Lorcan and you say, "Yeah, you're right. Um, we can tell him after NXT if you want."

Both of you get up as Tyler says, "Hopefully he doesn't beat my ass."

You take his hand and say, "I'll beat his if he even tries to beat your ass."

He laughs and you leave the dressing room. Fandango is in the hallway and he looks at the two of you. Dango is the only person that knows about you and Tyler, and that's because Tyler spends as much time with Dango that he does with you.

Dango says, "I just saw your brother head back to the Undisputed Era's locker room from the promo he did with Dream. Roddy was with him, and Adam stopped to ask if I had seen you so he might be looking for you, Olivia. Just giving the two of you a heads up since you decided to hold hands."

Tyler looks down at your connected hands and he says, "We're telling Adam after the show anyway."

The three of you head to the backstage area. You stand in a dark corner with Tyler, kissing him as Dango stretches out. There's still ten minutes until their match begins. Hiding in a corner with Tyler until his matches begin isn't uncommon, especially for the past few months.

You've been with Tyler for months, and you've kept it a secret this whole time. Hiding in corners and in his dressing room helps.

Tyler's hands are on your face as you slowly kiss him. You smile into the kiss and wrap your arms around Tyler's waist, pulling him closer to you.

"I'm close enough, baby," Tyler says, laughing a bit into the kiss.

You giggle against his lips and say, "Not to me."

He laughs and says, "You are crazy."

You run your fingers through Tyler's short hair and you keep him close to you.

Both of you are too involved with each other that you don't notice your brother come into the backstage area.

Adam looks around for you and notices you with Tyler. He's shocked at what he sees. He walks up to you and almost shouts, "What the hell is going on here?"

Tyler pulls back from the kiss and you look at Adam. "Nothing!" you automatically say.

"It doesn't look like nothing, Olivia!" your brother says, eyes flickering to Tyler. "What the hell are you doing with my sister?"

You look at Tyler and he says, "Adam, I can explain what's going on-"

Adam says, "You better do it fast before I kill you, Breeze."

Tyler throws his hands up and he says, "Okay, Olivia and I were going to tell you after NXT was done but we're dating."

You stand beside Tyler and Adam says, "Dating. You're dating my sister?" His voice rises again and brings his hand down across Tyler's cheek.

"Adam!" you gasp. "That was completely unnecessary."

Your brother gets in Tyler's face. "Keep your hands off my sister," Adam snarls. You try to wedge yourself between them. "I'm serious, Breeze. If I see you anywhere near my sister I'll-"

Tyler says, "You'll what, Cole? Hm? Hit me? You've already done that so come up with something better than that."

Adam says, "We can bring this out into the ring where I can hit you with a Last Shot. Or how does a superkick sound?"

Your boyfriend says, "Bring it, Cole."

"Tyler!" you say. "Adam, stop!"

You hate that your brother and your boyfriend are fighting. You look at Roderick Strong with a glance of desperation. You need help. Both of these men are taller than you and weigh more than you. You won't be able to hold them off for much longer.

Your brother takes a few steps back and you stop struggling to get between them. You move and stand in front of Tyler.

Then before you know it, a foot connects with your jaw and you fall into Tyler. You clutch your jaw as Tyler holds you in his arms. You look at Adam and he has a look of regret on his face. "Olivia-" Adam starts, but you cut him off.

"Save it," you spit at him, walking off to see the trainer you so can make sure that nothing is broken.

Tyler's match goes on, and you watch as your jaw is examined.

Nothing's broken and the skin is just bruised. The door to the trainer's room opens up and you watch as Tyler runs in with Fandango right on his heels.

He gently touches the forming bruise on your jaw and says, "I didn't think he'd actually try to superkick me but then you got in the way. I tried to move you."

You say, "I'm okay. Just bruised up. Nothing's broken. Adam's superkicks are ridiculously hard so I'm lucky I don't have a broken jaw."

Tyler pulls you into a hug. He kisses your temple and says into your hair, "I just have to get changed then you can come back to my place. I don't want you to go back to Adam's."

"I live with him so I'll have to go back eventually," you say. "I'll just tell Britt that I'm staying with you tonight. Adam knows so I guess there's no point in hiding it anymore."

He says, "Alright. Let me get changed then we can go. You call Britt and tell her you're staying with me."

You nod and walk off with Tyler to his dressing room.

As Tyler showers and changes, you call your brother's girlfriend. Britt answers in a few rings. "Hey, Olivia. What's going on? Everything okay?" she asks.

"I, uh, I'm staying with Tyler Breeze tonight," you say. "Adam found out that I'm with Tyler and he freaked out, plus he superkicked me trying to superkick Tyler so I don't want to see Adam right now."

Britt says, "I'll talk to him. Wait, you're with Tyler? Like you're dating Tyler?"

You sigh and say, "Yeah, I am. We've been together for a few months now. Adam just found out today and that's when he freaked out. Tyler and I were going to tell him after NXT but he found us together. He and Tyler said some words backstage then I got accidentally superkicked by my brother."

There's a sigh before Britt says, "I'll have a long talk with your brother tonight so you can come home tomorrow. Hopefully, he'll have an apology ready for you and for Tyler. Oh, and by the way, I kind of figured you were with Tyler. You've been spending a lot of time with him and sneaking off with him. Don't think I didn't notice, Miss Olivia."

Giggling, you say, "Someone was bound to notice. I'm glad it was you and not my brother considering the current circumstances."

Tyler walks into the room and looks at you. Britt says, "Well, I'm happy for you. I'll talk to Adam about it and get him to calm down. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you, Britt," you say, hanging up the phone. "Ready?"

Your boyfriend says, "Yeah. I'm all showered and clean so we can just lay in bed and cuddle all night."

You gather your things, meaning your phone and wallet, before asking, "Can we actually stop at Dunkin to grab some coffee? And can we play Fall Guys tonight? Please?"

Tyler laughs and says, "Yes, we can grab a coffee and play Fall Guys tonight."

"Yay," you say, leaving the dressing room.

Your boyfriend laughs and intertwines his fingers with yours. You both leave Full Sail Arena. A few of the remaining superstars look at you and Tyler as you walk the halls to leave.

***

Tyler does stop at Dunkin, and you get your usual coffee order. A large coffee with cream and extra sugar. When you get back to Tyler's, he gets Fall Guys set up on his TV for you and he uses his PC to play.

You play several rounds with him. One crown is won between the two of you, and it's you that won it. You definitely rubbed it in Tyler's face and his response was, "Olivia, you're like a pro at this game. You play every damn day."

"And what about it?" you said in reply to Tyler's comment. He just laughed.

After about two hours of Fall Guys, you both decide to stop. It's late, and you both won't stop yelling "quit pushing" during several of the rounds where if you fall off the edge, you lose.

Tyler cleans up the Dunkin and shuts off the game. That's when you realize that you didn't bring any clothes to sleep in.

You look at Tyler and say, "Um, we have a teeny tiny problem."

"What's that?" Tyler asks, walking into the living room from the kitchen.

Playing with your thumbs, you say, "I don't have anything to sleep in. Jeans and a t-shirt isn't exactly comfortable."

Your boyfriend looks at you and asks, "You don't sleep in your underwear?"

You blink at him and ask, "You do?"

Tyler asks, "Who doesn't sleep in their underwear?"

You point to yourself and say, "Me! I don't sleep in my underwear. I actually sleep in pajamas or sweatpants."

"Well I have pajamas or sweatpants you can sleep in," Tyler says to you. "Go find something to wear."

As soon as you were given free rein of Tyler's closet, you sprint to Tyler's room. He follows you and you say, "You never specified what I can grab."

Tyler says, "Spare the hoodies, please."

You get to Tyler's closet and open the door. You look in the small closet and find a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. You change, forgetting Tyler was behind you. His eyes are on you, too focused on you to look away.

When you're finished changing, you turn and find Tyler's eyes on you. Your cheeks heat up and you ask, "Did you just watch me change?"

He stammers, "I, uh, I might have. I didn't do it on purpose though."

You giggle and throw your jeans and t-shirt somewhere in the room and you walk over to Tyler. "You watched me change on accident?"

"Yeah," he says.

Tyler's face is a little red and you say, "It's okay. I know I'm hot so you don't have to be embarrassed about it."

He laughs and says, "You are stunning, baby. I'm not embarrassed about it."

You say, "Your flustered cheeks say differently, Mr. Breeze."

A giggle leaves your lips and his hands move so they're resting gently on your cheeks. He cups your face as he says, "I'm going to kiss you so you stop talking about how red my cheeks are."

"I won't stop you from kissing me," you say, smiling up at him. "You know I'll never turn down a kiss."

Tyler smiles and pulls your lips to his. The kiss is slow and soft at first. You shuffle closer to the taller man in front of you and grab a fistful of his shirt. Your eyes flutter closed as the soft kiss continues. You deepen the kiss when you not-so-accidentally slip your tongue into his mouth.

A soft gasp leaves Tyler and you smirk a bit against his lips. His fingers slide up into your hair, holding you close to him by your head. Your hands slip up his shirt, going up and over his stomach and his chest. The fabric is being pushed up as you move your hands.

Your boyfriend pulls back from the kiss to look at your hands under his shirt. "Miss Cole, are you trying to tell me something?" Tyler asks.

Giggling, you say, "Maybe I am, Mr. Breeze. You know how much I love when you don't wear a shirt."

Tyler laughs and he pulls his shirt over his head, leaving him in just his jeans. They hang a little low on his hips and you trace the v-line that's exposed.

Your eyes follow your fingers as Tyler asks, "Anything else you'd like me to take off?"

You look up at Tyler and say, "Um, not right now."

Tyler just smiles and shakes his head a bit before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss is deep almost immediately. You hook your fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pull him close to you.

His hands are now on your waist and you take a step toward the bed, letting Tyler know where you want to go. You push him onto the bed so he's sitting on it. The kiss breaks and you look down at him.

Tyler's fingers slip up your shirt and he says, "It's only fair."

"I don't disagree," you say as Tyler pulls off the shirt you're borrowing him him.

His eyes scan you body and you reach behind you, unclasping the bra you're wearing. You toss it at him and he says, "You didn't have to do that."

You crawl onto his lap, straddling his thighs and ask, "Are you complaining about it?"

Tyler starts to leave kisses on your now exposed breasts. A soft sigh leaves your lips and you run your fingers through Tyler's hair.

A few moments and marks later, you put your hands on Tyler's cheeks and tilt his head up. You lean down and kiss him. This kiss is rougher and more passionate than the other kisses you've shared with Tyler tonight. You slightly grip his hair as he moves backward on the bed.

Subconsciously, you start to unbutton Tyler's jeans. At the same time, Tyler's fingers are hooked in the borrowed sweatpants and he's tugging at them slightly. Tyler gets the sweats off of you, leaving you in your panties. You get on your knees between Tyler's legs and pull off his jeans. You throw the pants across the room before Tyler pulls you onto him and rolls over so he's hovering on top of you. He's kissing your neck.

Your eyes close and you sigh underneath Tyler's body. His hands roam your body for a few seconds before one of them finds its way into your panties. His fingers gently start rubbing and playing with your clit. You gasp and put your fingers into Tyler's hair.

This is the first time either of you are spending a night with the other and look what's happening. His hand is in your panties and he's marking up your neck.

"Tyler," you sigh, kissing his forehead.

A finger dips inside of you, making you squirm slightly. "Yes?" he mumbles against the skin on your neck.

You say, "I need you to do something."

Tyler starts to move his finger in and out of you, making you moan his name softly. "Like that?" he says.

"Just like that," you say in almost a whisper.

Satisfied with your answer, Tyler moves his finger faster and harder. You bite your lip to stifle some moans but it's not really working.

A second and eventually a third finger is added. Tyler's lips are on your chest and trailing down to your breasts. You're gripping the bedsheets and arching your back off the mattress as Tyler moves his fingers.

"Fuck," you sigh as he builds your orgasm. Your breathing is labored and you look down at Tyler.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out and you whine from the sudden absence of his fingers. You watch as he smiles and says, "I got you, baby. Don't worry."

Tyler pulls off your panties and his boxers before reaching into his bedside table and grabbing a tiny silver package. He opens it and slides the contents onto himself. He kneels between your legs, which are wrapped around his waist.

You lick your bottom lip as he asks, "Okay?"

Nodding, you say, "Yes."

He smiles and slowly begins to slide his erect member into you. You gasp and moan from the pressure. You grasp the bedsheets again as Tyler's length fills you.

Tyler lets you adjust to him before he starts to move. He thrusts his hips into you, holding himself up as he hovers over you. You stare up at him as he fucks your into the mattress.

Your moans and the sound of skin slapping together fill the dimly lit bedroom. You're now holding onto Tyler's forearms as he moves.

One of his hands moves down and start to rub your very sensitive clit. He picks up his speed as he thrusts harder into you.

Your orgasm is built back up within a few movements and your legs shake from the overstimulation.

A knot forms in your stomach and your nails dig into Tyler's arms. Tyler moves harder and he starts to hit his target; your g-spot.

"God, Tyler," you moan. "Don't stop. Oh, please don't stop."

He kisses you softly before saying, "I would never dream of stopping."

Your back arches off the bed again as your walls clench around Tyler. He pins your hips to the mattress and you cry out, "I'm about to come."

Tyler says, "On three. Ready? One."

His movements speed up but get sloppy.

"Two."

Your moan his name loudly and the knot in you stomach explodes.

"Three."

You both come at the same time. You cry out Tyler's name as you release around him. He releases into the condom.

He helps you both ride out your highs and you kiss him messily. Both of you are covered in a layer of sweat and are breathing heavily.

After a moment, Tyler pulls out of you and pulls off the condom. He ties it off and you crawl under the blankets. Your jaw aches a bit but it was worth it for the sex.

That was only the third time the two of you have ever gotten together, and it was more amazing than the first two times. Especially because you don't have to leave right after. You get to stay the night.

Tyler lays beside you and pulls you into his arms. Your back is to him and you're holding one of Tyler's hands. He's leaving soft kisses to your shoulder and neck.

"Guess what?" you ask.

He says, "Hm?"

You turn your head toward him and say in a singsong voice, "I get to stay the night."

Tyler laughs and says, "Yes you do. Expect another round shortly because I just can't get enough of you." He playfully growls and attacks your neck again.

You giggle and get comfortable in Tyler's arms as he leaves even more marks on your neck.

[tinisprout]

No Doubt in Us

Chapter Thirteen - Don't Cry *written section below*

Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader

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a/n: You thought the angst was over? yeah so did I idk what happened lol

Synopsis: Life is great, you have your dream job, you finally got your first big break, and you are now engaged to the love of your life. Happier than you’ve ever been, you live life one day at a time. Then one day a terrible accident happens leaving you in a coma. Where you finally awake, everything is not as you remember. Amnesia takes away 3 years of your memory, forgetting your beloved Fiance. Faced with a reality that seems unreal, as your mind is stuck in a past with uncomfortable memories, your future with him is uncertain.

Send me an ask if you want to be put on the taglist for this series

Taglist:@my-summer-night @deputyjuyeon @juhaktheoneforme @sunqnew @givememunjang

Word count: 2.7k

warnings: none

To your surprise, Sunwoo seemed a lot nicer in person than how presents himself in chat. Eric was just as nice but had some mischief to him. Eric had ordered in and the four of you had eaten together. Getting comfortable with the two of them didn’t seem that as hard as you thought it would be. Just like in their old videos you watched where you feature in you seemed to have good friendship chemistry with both of them.

Sunwoo had brought a few video ideas to the table for you and Haknyeon to chose from. He even said if none of these were good we didn’t have to film anything. You and Haknyeon decided what you were comfortable with. You and Haknyeon picked the idea that you were both curious about. ‘Can you find your partner by touching?’

“Really? I didn’t think either of you would pick this one,” Eric says.

“Okay before we decide for real let me explain it, so you both know what you’re getting into,” Sunwoo says, and you and Haknyeon nod. “So you will be blindfolded and in random order, Haknyeon, Eric, and I will each have a round of skinship with you, then you have to determine which one of us is Haknyeon using only your hands. The skinship will consist of holding hands, hugging, touch the cheeks, lips, nose, and hair. Say anything mean or rude while evaluating, you get a penalty bonk. Sound Okay?”

As sunwoo looks between his friends waiting for their decision, you and Haknyeon look at each other and nod consenting to the game. You both give Sunwoo the okay and the setup for the video begins.

“You think you’ll be able to find me?” Haknyeon asks curiously about your thoughts.

“I think I’ll be fine, but please don’t get mad at me if I get anything wrong.”

“However you do I won't be mad, but I can't promise I won't be a little upset if you get them all wrong.” He says in all honesty.

“Alright love birds, we need to film the intro first. So our fans have been wondering where you two have been. Sunwoo and I Haven’t said anything, you can address it or not, whatever you are comfortable with.”

“Maybe another time.” Your situation isn’t even something you shared with your own audience. Maybe one day you would, that would be something you would talk to Haknyeon about.

“Cool, just sit down on the chair and hold this for now and attach this lav mic to your shirt and turn it on. We are going to change into this real quick.” Sunwoo hands you a silly-looking sleeping mask and lav mic, you sit down waiting for their return. The boys come back with black shirts on, miked up and any styling they did with their hair was brushed down flat. Haknyeon stands behind you and Sunwoo stands next to him.

“I’m turning on the cameras,” you suddenly feel a lot more nervous hearing Eric’s words. Noticing how you tensed Haknyeon put a hand on your back, you look to him, and he mouths, ‘You okay.’ Relaxing your shoulders you smile at him, mouthing, ’I’m good.’ After turning the cameras on Eric stans on your other side looking to Sunwoo to start.

“Alright, On three. One, two, three,” Sunwoo looks to the camera, and just like he and Eric have done many times before, they start the intro off at the same time.

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD day everyone and welcome back to today’s video!”

“You already know, but if you don’t. I’m Sunwoo.”

“And I’m Eric.”

“And these two right here are our very special guests and friends, Haknyeon and Y/N!”

“Today we are playing a game. Y/N will be blindfolded and see if she can find her boyfriend, Haknyeon, between the three of us through skinship. How do you think you’ll do?” You turn to Eric.

“I’m a little nervous, but I shouldn’t do too bad.”

“Well let's put you to the test to see if your words hold true. We’ll come to you one by one and when you’re done examining, just say, “next”.” You nod at Sunwoo’s words. “Now put on the mask and stick your hand please then we will begin!” Doing as he says you put on the mask and raise your hand up.

Only the shuffling of feet could be heard. First up was Eric and he raised his hand to the camera wiggling his fingers. He then walks up to you and places his hand against yours.

“Can I use both of my hands?” Eric writes yes on your hand so you use both to examine the hand. Eric has to hold back from laughing at the ticklish sensation. “It does feel very similar, but it’s a little wider than Haknyeon’s hand, I think? Next.”

Letting go of his hand you keep yours up waiting for the next one. The next, which was Haknyeon’s hand felt almost the same as the last. There were only small differences that you noticed, “The fingers are a little shorter than the last hand and it’s very warm like Haknyeon’s. This is harder and I thought. Next.”

Sunwoo going last was very different compared to the other two. “This hand definitely isn’t Haknyeon. It’s like a baby’s hand.” Sunwoo was shocked by your answer and felt a little offended. When he turned around he could see Eric and Haknyeon covering their mouths holding in the laughs.

He picked up the toy mallet from the small table next to you and hit your head. “Oh, I was going to say it’s really soft!” You drop the hand with a pout feeling wronged. Sunwoo put the toy down and walked back to the boys.

“Alright, keep the mask on. Now you’ve felt the three hands, which do you think is Haknyeon’s? One, two, or three?” Eric says.

“Hmm, I think two. I can’t get over how warm it was. Haknyeon’s hands are usually very warm.”

“Okay number two will step out in front of you and when they tap you, you can remove the mask and see if you were right or wrong. Number two please step out.” Haknyeon steps out feeling happy that you got it right and gives a thumbs up to the camera in passing. He taps you gently and you felt a little nervous hoping you didn’t get the first one wrong. Thankfully with your vision returned the site of Haknyeon greeted you and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness. I don’t know what I would do if I got this one wrong.”

“You did well.” He grabbed your hand and you felt that familiar warmth again.

“Don’t celebrate just yet. That was an easy one. The next one is harder. Mask back on!” Sunwoo yells like he is waiting for you to fail.

“Okay let’s get going then.” You put your mask back on and the process continues and again there was one that stood out in comparison two the other two. “Sunwoo is the second one for sure, his bottom lip is very plump. The first and third are a little harder to guess, even though they don’t feel alike. The image I have in my head is different from what I’m feeling.”

Eric and Haknyeon feel the shape of their own lip, while Sunwoo puckers his lips at the camera showing off his asset.

“Well, there can only be one. Choose wisely.”

“Ugh…. One?”

“Alright, number one step up.” The boy taps you and you take off the mask and you see Eric making a peace sign with a duck face. Shocked you whip around seeing Haknyeon trying to not look sad. Sunwoo and Eric start laughing at your screw-up.

“Haknyeon, I swear it’s harder than it looks! Please don’t be sad.”

“That’s okay, this just means we don’t kiss nearly enough. That can be fixed tonight.”

“Haknyeon!”

“Hey keep it pg-13. Y’all trying to get us demonetized?” Eric reprimands.

“Okay Okay moving on. Next, we are doing hair. Some of you were probably wondering why the three of us look like coconut heads right now. Cause it would be too easy to guess based on how we styled our hair.” Sunwoo smoothly moves the conversation back to normal.

“You just want me to fail don’t you.”

“You’re right. It makes for great content.”

“You’re terrible.” you put the mask back on and raise your hands a bit higher so they don’t have to bend as much. The game starts again and to your dismay, you got another one wrong. This time though it was sunwoo who stood in front of you, stanced up in the fuck boy pose. You cover your face feeling terrible.

“That’s two out of three wrong. Things aren’t looking too good right now.”

In your defense, the two of you had only been truly intimate for two weeks. This would have been easy peasy if you had your memories of him. The old you would have had all these small physical details about him etched into your brain.

“It’s just hair, ours isn’t that different anyway,” Haknyeon says, coming to your defense.

“But you’re a little salty right?” Eric laughs.

“Shut up.” You noted how Haknyeon didn’t exactly deny it.

“I will get the next one right!” you say determined.

“It’s fine Y/N, don’t let it bother you,” but how could it not bother you when it bothered him. It only bothered you more when got noses wrong as well. It wasn’t that big of a deal in reality, in your head it felt like it though. Sure Haknyeon had just a little hope in his heart that you would do well, but he also knew it was still early in the relationship, recognizing all these small things would come with time. You wouldn’t just suddenly remember the finer details.

“I-” you didn’t want to turn around to see Haknyeon, afraid of the face you would see. Feeling disappointed in yourself you kept your head facing straight ahead but you could see your face distort in the viewfinder so you ended up looking down.

“Y/N, it’s just a game no big deal.”

“You’re bothered by it aren’t you, how is it not a big deal?” Everyone could hear how your voice trembled. Any smile on Sunwoo and Eric’s face immediately dropped. Haknyeon quickly came up to you worried.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Look at me,” you shook your head. Haknyeon gets on his knees to see your face and puts his hand over your tightly clenched one. “Why are you crying, Honey?” His heart broke seeing you like this.

Feeling that warm hand again you unclench your fists and hold his. He raises his other hand to wipe your tears away. Eric signals to Sunwoo to turn off the cameras and they both silently moved around the couple turning off the cameras.

“I like you, so I don’t want to hurt you, but I feel like that all I’m doing right now. If I still had my memories I would do better and you wouldn’t be so disappointed. I’m scared every day that I might be hurting a person I care about because I’m forgetting something and I am, I’m hurting you. If I didn’t lose my memories…”

“Y/N, if you didn’t lose your memories nothing would have changed, and yeah that would be great. But my love didn’t come from you knowing how to tell my features apart from our friends. I love you because of how considerate you are of my feelings, just like right now. Some memories are missing, sure, it made you different from before but you aren’t another person. Everything I love about you is still there.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I love that you are a good listener, how you always try to understand me. I love that I can rely on you, and so many other things. We’re working on us, so even if you can’t remember the past for the rest of your life, we still have right now. A relationship takes time, you can learn all these little things with time again. We can make new memories as long as you want to make them with me.”

His words are a much-needed comfort, letting you know you shouldn’t be so worried about your memories. You squeeze his hand and nod when he asks if you understand. “Good. now there is no need to cry anymore is there?” you shake your head, he stands up and your eyes follow him.

Once more he wipes away your tears. He pulls you into his chest, hugging and petting your head with his free hand. You can hear his heartbeat and it coaxes you into calming down. You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like, but you are the first to speak after the silence.

“I’m okay now,” you sniffle and he gives you a soft smile. The sound of another sniffle draws your attention. You see Eric who looked like he had just balled his eyes out with a box of tissues.

“Um… tissue?” Eric offers to you. You take one without hesitation.

“Thanks, but why are you crying?” you were confused, what happened when you weren’t looking.

“Because I didn’t realize you felt that way. You seemed fine, but you were struggling. I even laughed when you were really trying hard. I’m sorry for being a bad friend.” Eric wipes his tears with a tissue.

“No, you’re not a bad friend. I was being silly getting emotional so easily.”

“Your feelings aren’t silly.”

“We understand that you don’t have your memories of us and that’s fine. You’re our friend. That’s why we are here doing this. So don’t feel pressured to remember things about us, as Haknyeon said, you can learn those things again,” Sunwoo chimes in.

“Ah, I really do have good friends,” everyone smiles a little at your words. “Oh no! I ruined the video didn’t I?”

“No, we could edit that out, but it’s fine anyway we don’t have to film anymore.”

“I can still do it, I promise.”

“Only if you really want to.”

“I do.”

“Okay, but only after a break, both yours and eric’s eyes are red,” you nod agreeing to Sunwoo’s condition. You and Eric iced your eyes, after a 20-minute break. The two of you were all set to go again. This next round was cheeks the difficulty of this one should be easy. This was something you were more familiar with.

“The third one is Haknyeon’s cheeks. They are very soft and plump.” Just like you thought Haknyeon was the one to stand in front of you this time smiling, making his cheek stick out more.

“Y/N is looking to turn things around now?” Sunwoo says.

“I’m trying.”

“The next round is the last one which might be one of the harder ones. It will be a back hug. Good luck.”

You put the mask back on hear someone from behind come up. When they finally embraced you were hit with a familiar smell. You latched onto the arms that held you, smooth and toned arms, mixed with his scent it was without a doubt Haknyeon.

“Haknyeon, that’s you right?” You can’t see it but he nods. “I know this is him, I don’t need to see the others.” you take off the mask and tilt your head up and Haknyeon is looking down on you. You smile and he kisses your forehead.

“Good job,” you are happy that Haknyeon praised you but also embarrassed that he kissed you in front of the camera.

“How did you guess?” Eric asked shocked by how fast that was.

“It was his smell. He is wearing the cologne I like.”

“That is almost cheating, but I’ll let it slide since that was really cute,” Sunwoo says and then turns to the camera. “Well everyone, that’s all for today’s video. Thank you Haknyeon and Y/N for joining us again.”

“And thank you everyone for watching. Like, subscribe, and all that other good stuff. And always remember Eric-”

“And Sunwoo.”

“Loves you. BYE!” Eric and Sunwoo say at the same time, waving to the camera. Then they stop and go to turn the cameras off.

“And that’s a wrap. So we can chill again if you want,” Eric suggests.

“Sounds good to me,” Everyone else agrees, you spend two more hours at Sunwoo and Eric’s place just conversing before calling it a day and heading home. That night you and Haknyeon lay in bed cuddling together. You think to yourself that you could definitely see yourself falling in love with this man. Maybe you already did, time would tell.

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[sun-daddy-yoriichi]

"Just leave. I don't want to see you right now." For Ren

Okay, thank you for requesting, lovie. Hope you enjoy this one. It's different than what I usually do, so I hope it's not too bad!

Hum, also I don’t even know where this idea even came from. Don’t come for me if something is wrong please-

Do I think Kyoujuro would ever cheat? No. But for now let’s just pretend.

▬▬▬

Warning(s): Cheating, angst, some spoilers, mentions of postpartum depression, i lowkey hate this one

Kyoujuro Rengoku x Reader : "Just leave. I don't want to see you right now." [Angst Prompt #2]

Kyoujuro should have known. Like always, his actions always did come back to bite him in the ass.

It started out as an accident. Kyoujuro had never had any interest in the female Slayers before. There was a lot of them, he knew, but there was nothing particularly special about them.

His wife, his sweet and gentle wife, who had loved and cared for him when he felt that nobody else did, had lost the baby.

He knew that he couldn’t blame her for that. From day one, Shinobu had said that the pregnancy was going to be difficult, if not deadly. Still, they decided to go through with it, and Kyoujuro had felt nothing but intense love and excitement whenever his wife agreed to that. He knew she was scared. She had every right to be, but they were going to be parents! Certainly nothing could go wrong with that.

When he received a letter from Shinobu, six months into the pregnancy, he knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

(Y/n) sounded like she was in such pain, but they wouldn’t let him in despite him asking a million times. The delivery was rough, and long, taking nearly all day and all night to complete. Still, Kyoujuro didn’t move from where he waited in the hallway, going as far as to fall asleep against the wall so that they wouldn’t tell him to leave again.

His wife’s shouts quieted, but he heard no baby in their stead. Fifteen minutes later, Shinobu walked out to break the news to him.

It was a premature birth, he knew that much. (Y/n)’s body simply wasn’t ready to handle the complications that pregnancy could entail, and she went into labour early. The strain was too much for the baby, who passed soon after being born.

“She’s blaming herself for this,” Shinobu told him, “Please try and comfort her. Her body is very weak, and she cannot go through this all on her own. It would be unhealthy.”

It took three days for him to convince his wife to even sit up in bed. It took a week for her to stand. God knows how long it had been since she had smiled at him at all. Her mood was getting worse, and he was losing his patience with her. Still, every sharp look from Shinobu or her tsuguko reminded him of one thing: This was not her fault.

Kyoujuro would have liked to say that he did try his best to comfort her, but looking back on it, they were weak attempts. Tomioka could have done better. Scratch that. Tomioka did do better than him.

“Why do you think he doesn’t care about you?” He heard Giyuu say, sitting out on the engawa with his wife one morning. Kyoujuro didn’t usually eavesdrop, but this time, he felt a need to do just that.

“Kyoujuro has always wanted children,” (Y/n) told him, sounding so quiet and frail that it made his heart crack, “I feel like a useless wife for not being able to do that for him. It’s my fault. I-”

“You should have been more careful? You could never have known what was going to happen. It was your first pregnancy.”

Despite never talking to Tomioka, Kyoujuro was partially surprised that he seemed to know so much. Or, he was very good at pretending that he knew so much.

“Don’t blame yourself for things like that,” Giyuu muttered, “It will only make forgiving yourself even harder.”

The next day, when Kyoujuro came to visit, he was pleasantly surprised that (Y/n) agreed to the walk he offered, rather than just turning away and sighing again.

For a while, it seemed that she was getting better. Much better. She was eating, and going back to being his cute, gentle wife, who would do absolutely nothing to harm anyone at all. She was amazing to him, being so strong after such a tragic accident.

But she still wasn’t the same. Touches didn’t linger the way they used to. Sweet words that used to make her smile would win him a tight grin, before she suddenly found herself tired. She trusted him with little, even if it was menial things, such as household chores or writing. She learned how to do it herself. Even her warmth was different, despite the fact that she still preferred to bury her face into Kyoujuro’s chest when they slept. Her body froze him solid, as if fear was taking over his veins.

At three months, he became weak to the affections of other Demon Slayer women.

He would have liked to say that it was an accident, but it wasn’t. He didn’t even know the girl who had warmed his bed that fateful night, but he didn’t care. Anything to get rid of the chill his wife left on his person. It was only one night, but it was the one night that would ruin his life for good. He spent another three months keeping the affair secret, with (Y/n) blissfully unaware of her husband’s virtue slipping through his own fingers. Three months was a long time, but it was not long enough to scrub the guilt from Kyoujuro’s mind, as it still ate at him constantly.

“I’m home!” Kyoujuro called, slipping his sandals off as he entered the house. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the tense air sparked anxiety inside of Kyoujuro. There was never a quiet moment in their home, seeing as (Y/n) spent most of her time inside. It was strange for the estate to be void of silence, save for the sound of Senjuro moving around inside his room.

Stepping our to the courtyard of the estate, Kyoujuro was met with the soft smell of green tea, obviously brewed a while before he came home. It led him to (Y/n), his wife sitting calmly out on the engawa, a book settled into her lap. He hadn’t seen her read much before, which should have been a warning sign itself. But, as always, Kyoujuro was an optimist. He was looking on the bright side, trying not to think about what might happen if (Y/n) found out something incriminating about him.

When he noticed that she didn’t have her wedding ring on, it should have tipped him off. But it didn’t. After the failed delivery, (Y/n) was prone to losing or misplacing things, even with their house as clean as it was. Senjuro, being the good younger brother that he was, always managed to find it in a matter of minutes. Perhaps she had simply dropped it somewhere and not noticed yet. They would look for it in a while.

“Kyoujuro,” she called, sweet voice embedded with something unfamiliar, “come sit. We have to talk.”

For once in his life, Kyoujuro felt a sinking sense of fear, as he sat beside his wife calmly. She looked to be at peace, sipping her tea silently as he stayed in her company. He wished that she would say something, anything, that would get his mind out of the gutter. Something stupid or random that would bring his thoughts away from ever fickle thing he had done.

“Let’s talk,” (Y/n) finally said, turning to Kyoujuro expectantly. Rather than say anything, Kyoujuro kept silent, hoping that she couldn’t sense his nerves.

Despite her calm nature, there was an obvious tension in (Y/n)’s heart. She had gone months without knowing of the situation. Kyoujuro had lied to her countless times, yet she still felt nothing but love for the man. However, this love was tainted by distrust and secrets. Secrets that had been kept from her for far too long.

“How long have you been seeing that girl?” she asked him, swishing her tea around in the cup. It had long since gone cold, but that didn’t stop her from drinking it. She had always liked her green tea to be cold, anyways. Always let it sit for half an hour before drinking it, because hot drinks were never her favourite.

“What do you mean?”

“The girl that you had an affair with. How long have you been seeing her?”

Kyoujuro simply couldn’t believe it. How had she found out? Nobody told her, certainly. Nobody else but him and the girl knew, so how did she know? Still, if she knew something, it would be useless to lie. It would be stupid to lie. He couldn’t do that.

“It was only once,” he mumbled, as if the fact that he still had the guts to cheat on her once would help his case at all. His wife scoffed, standing up to pace on the engawa. She was irritated, and angry, but what could he do? She didn’t deserve the king of treatment she was given.

“I married you because I loved you,” (Y/n) said quietly, “I had your baby because I loved you. Maybe it was all just me. Maybe that wasn’t enough to keep you from doing something so awful.”

Cringing at the fact, Kyoujuro was quick to grab her hand. “(Y/n), love, please listen to me. We can fix this, can’t we?”

“No,” she replied simply, wrenching her arm from his grip, “The fact is; you had the gall to cheat on me and act as if it had never happened. That’s bad enough as it is.”

“(Y/n), we can work this out. Please! I love you!”

“You stopped loving me the minute that you felt you had the right to invite another girl into our bed!” (Y/n) cried, gesticulating wildly. Her heart hammered painfully, but she would not allow herself to cry in front of him. No. He didn’t deserve such leisure treatment.

“I’m sorry...”

The woman groaned, slapping a hand to her face. “Just leave,” she told him, “I don’t want to see you right now. Or ever again, in fact. My stuff is already gone, and someone’s picking me up later-”

“You’re leaving.”

“Don’t even think of breathing in my direction while I’m still here,” the woman seethed, brushing her loose hairs from her face, “We’re done, Rengoku, let’s be adults and move on.”

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Synopsys: The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research, and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on a press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. They get together and she decides to stay for a few days in London with him. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ‘honeymoon’ is over...

Heads up: my first language is Portuguese, so that might explain some things here - of course, I wrote thinking about myself hahaha

Warnings for the series: mention of illicit drugs, angst caused by distance, smut (next chapters, very explicit), anxiety caused by paparazzi, and rude random people taking photos.

Other than that, this is just my guilty pleasure writing so lots of caring sweet Tom and fluffiness.

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

This is 2.4k words (approximately)

Later, you were just laying in your hotel room and watching some tv, or telly how they say over here. You wanted to get some sleep and maybe call your parents to tell them about the day. It was so crazy, you didn’t think they’d quite grasp how crazy, but you wanted to include them anyway. I guess maybe especially because of that. Tomorrow you guys had to be at the station super early for the Radio 1 Breakfast with Greg James. 6 o’clock you thought it was that David had told you. You might as well check with him and set an alarm already. So you went to grab you phone for texting him and got a text from an unknown number.

The contact you had saved as “Tom Holland” (with the air quote marks) was calling on Facetime. Shit. This couldn’t be him. Could it? Have you even given your personal number to the producer at Graham? Shit. Just answer it and kill Lukas. You pressed the green button and the screen was dark. There was some music in the background, but it was a little muffled. And sure enough, there he was. Smiling at the phone slightly bellow his eye level. He’s hot. You look like shit with zero makeup and your hair in a crazy pony tail.

“Hi!” He said laughing. “Do you believe me now?”

“Hi…this is embarrassing. Sorry! I have the worst friends and is just like them to try to pull a prank on me because of this” You answered.

“No worries, darling. I’m a little sad you’d think me texting you is laughable though.” He joked.

“You know what I mean! Like I said, Tom Hanks wanting to work together I would have an easier time believing.” You laughed.

“Maybe I want to work together. By the way, I’m glad you did, but for future reference, you probably shouldn’t use your personal number for these things.” He advised you.

“Well, it’s not like I have more than one number so…” You told him.

“Your agent’s then.” He clarified.

“I don’t have an ‘agent’.” You emphasized the last word.

“Well, you should probably get one then, darling. Trust me on this one.” He was walking and the music got louder for an instant and then muffled again. Looks like a bar or the outside of a bar at least.

“Are you in a bar?” You asked him laughing.

“Excuse me, not a bar, a PUB. And no, I’m on the sidewalk of a pub, actually. Going home.” He said. “And you are…?”

You were kind of getting what he wanted from you and that was kind of annoying actually. He’s a movie star for god’s sake. Can’t he get a girl in whatever pub he’s at right now? “Busy actually.” You answered him.

“Oh sorry. Terrible timing, huh? I asked for your number this afternoon, after the show. But the bloody PA just sent me it right now. He might lose his job for this. Took him a lot of convincing, ya know?” He was talking and walking, you could see he was clearly trying to start a conversation and all that in the middle of the street.

“So you just got it and couldn’t wait to text me huh?” You teased.

“Kind of, yeah. The two pints probably helped me build the nerve. I’m not usually like this. I barely facetime my friends.” He told you.

“And in the middle of the street. If you get mugged, I don’t want to be accounted.” You were relaxing a bit and sat on the bed leaning on the headboard. He laughed at your joke. Maybe he was just drunk and not really after a booty call. “I thought you british were famous for spending nights at the pub. Why you leaving so early, anyway?” You asked.

“Got to get up early tomorrow for a work out.” He answered simply.

“Of course you do” You said.

“And I much rather talk to you too.” He said.

Silence. What do you answer to that? Is he flirting with you? He’s definitely flirting with you.

“Ahem” He cleared his throat. “I really did liked your show, you know? It’s really something.” He said.

“You did? Thank you. Means a lot.” You said. “I’m still shocked it’s getting this much attention, to be honest.”

“Why? I’m shocked no one’s done it before. Is such a good idea. But maybe if they’ve done it, it wouldn’t be the same. Cause your presenting is probably what makes it that good.” He had stopped walking and you could hear keys juggling in his hand. “I live really close to the pub. I know” He laughed and you laughed back. “Hey!” He said to someone outside the screen and started to walk up stairs.

“Do you live with someone else? Your parents?” You asked.

“Uhh…no, no. I mean yeah, my mates Harrison and Tuwaine and my brother Harry. It’s just Tuwaine and his girlfriend downstairs though, I think.” He told you while taking off his shoes.

“Hey don’t go cockblock your friend now” You laughed.

“Never. And always.” He joked back. “Thought you’d be out enjoying London tonight, or were you planning on going out later?” He asked you in a thick accent.

“What? No, I’m a serious business girl. No time for shenanigans” You said laughing, so he’d know you were joking.

“Shenanigans” He laughed back. “Your English is better than mine you know?”

“Oh I’m sure” You answered sarcastically. “Flattering will get you far, but lying will not”

“I’m serious. If you haven’t said it today I’d think you’re American. You kind of have a New Yorker accent” He said.

“Yeah? ‘Fuhgeddaboudit’” You said in a thick accent and you laughed together. It was fun talking to him.

“What other languages do you speak?” He asked you when you stopped laughing.

“Portuguese, English…Spanish, Italian, a little bit, and German” You answered while counting your fingers.

“No way. Say something in German. By the way, I’m still here, I’ll just change these clothes.” He said while putting the phone on the nightstand and getting out of the frame. He was taking off his clothes, you thought. And he wanted you to say something in German.

“Nennen sie das Ärger?” You said, without thinking everything through.

“Now say the same in Portuguese” You heard his voice but didn’t see him.

“É isso que eles chamam de problema?” You said again.

“Yeah, portuguese is defenitely sexier.” He laughed and grabbed the phone again to sit on the bed. He was shirtless and with his head on the headboard of the bed. “What did you said anyway?”

“Excuse me, I wasn’t aware I’d have to translate it.” You mocked being offended.

“Oh so it WAS dirty. I thought I was imagining.” He teased you.

“You’re smooth.” You shook your head. “I’m still not saying it. You’ll just have to learn Portuguese, or German.”

“I’ll learn Portuguese if you teach me.” He said. “How long are you here for?”

“Just till tomorrow.” You said. “Flying back to New York tomorrow night.”

“More interviews?” He asked.

“Tomorrow’s the last one actually. But I’m traveling with David, he makes the show with me, and I’ve kept him from his fiancé long enough. That and we have to prepare for big meeting with executives next week, you know find an agent and stuff.”

“I could talk to my agent if you want to, he’s an actors agent but maybe he knows someone for other kinds of jobs” He said. “You don’t have a fiancé to get back to, do you?”

“No. No fiancé or jobs for that matter.” You laughed. “And I’m not even sure what kind of jobs would those be.”

“Publicity deals. If I had a brand, I’d want you to be the face of it. It’s the face of diversity and youth, isn’t it? It’s a beautiful face” He said.

“The face of diversity and youth?” You laughed. “Now you’re the one confusing me with Tom Hanks” You joked and he laughed out loud. “I could use some friendly recommendation though, on the agent thing. I don’t even know where to start looking and sounds like the type of thing you don’t want to ask the wrong people” You added.

“Yeah, sure. He’ll know someone for sure.”

“Thank you”

“Glad to help! Really!” He smiled at you. “So where you going tomorrow?”

“Breakfast show at Radio 1. Greg James I think” You answered.

“Oh he’s great! We were there today. You’ll have a great time! It’s a bit early, no? Am I keeping you from sleep? Do you want to hang up?” He was cute, all concern and stuff.

“Yes, yes and no. I’m enjoying you keeping me from sleep.” You said. Maybe it was the time, but that was kind of bold Ana. Good job?

“Good. I’m enjoying it too.” He said while you were getting under the duvet, getting cozy. “Are you enjoying London? What’s your favorite place so far?”

“I loved what I’ve seen from the car window” You answered sadly. “And all the studios we’ve seen.” You laughed a little. “But since we’ve landed it’s been go go go.”

“That’s a great song though.”

“I can’t believe you got that reference.” You said surprised. You love The Maine.

“I love The Maine. Honest. ‘Where I come from you learn to make the best of things’”

“‘But honey since we’ve met you know you’ve had the best of me’” You mock singed together and laughed when you finished the verse.

“OH MY GOD DO YOU WANT TO MARRY ME?” He joked while laughing.

“YES! AND WE CAN GET ON THE ROAD CHASING INDIE BANDS ON TOUR?” You joked back.

“I mean, that’s the dream, that’s the dream.” He said. “I can’t believe that you haven’t seen London though. Wish you’d stay longer, I could take you some places. If you’d like, of course” He said.

“Don’t you have work? I though movie stars didn’t have time for tourism in their own home town” You teased.

“I’m sure movie stars don’t. Good thing I’m not one.” He said smirking.

“Ok, and where would you take me then?” You asked. Where you really contemplating extending your trip just right now? Get a grip on yourself woman.

“Uh, I don’t know. Parks?”

“Parks?” You laughed.

“And pubs.” He laughed too. “To be honest those are the only places I go to when I’m home. I take my dog on walks and drink with friends.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad life to me.”

“No, I guess not.”

You guys kept talking for hours about everything and nothing. Favorite music, food, drinks, spots for each of those in different cities. You lived in NY but had lived in Berlin before and he was interested in that and you were very interested to hear about the places he’d been, but mostly about London.

“So you actually live here?” You asked him.

“What you mean? London? Yeah.”

“But don’t you work more in LA and stuff? You have a place there too?”

“Uh, no, actually. I don’t work there as much. No as much to justify getting a place anyway. If I’m honest, I haven’t stayed in the same place for too much time, unless I’m off work. And then I’ll be here. Closer to the family. Friends. You know.” He told you.

“That’s nice. It sucks to be away all the time”

“You probably know what I mean. There was a time I was considering getting a place in LA, you know, that whole Hollywood thing. And I was kind of seeing someone there at the time, so that might have had some influence in the decision. We were looking at houses and they were amazing, huge and crazily luxurious.”

“You were going to move in together?”

“No, she was just helping me look for places. Anyway, it didn’t worked out and in the mean time I found this house here so it was for the better I think.” He was opening up to you. “That’s really not for me. That whole life. Mansions, cars, the paparazzi.”

“Listen, I’m not sure how to break it to you. But you might not have chosen the best work line then.” You joked.

“No joke” He laughed. “I know it’s part of the job. At some extent. But I don’t need to go looking for trouble too. This way I’ll just deal with all that when I’m at the states and here I can focus on something else. Spend that money with something else. Spend my time with people that I actually care about and care about me. You know?”

“I like your mind” You said without thinking and there was a while of silence between the two of you.

“I think that’s the best compliment I ever gotten” He said.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” You blushed.

“I know. And that’s why.” He smiled. “I like your mind too. I like that you don’t filter it. You’re genuine” You had blushed and closed your eyes at his compliment. When you opened them he was smiling at you. “You have the most amazing green eyes, you know that? They’re beautiful. And smile too. I love your smile.” You turned your head to the side, like you didn’t understand what he was saying, but you did. You were only studying him.

“Where you getting at Holland?”

“Can I see you tomorrow? Will you have sometime after your interview?” He asked.

“Yeah. I have the day actually, my flight is not until 11 at night, I think. When you want to meet?”

“I can pick you up right after and we can grab some lunch, sounds good?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect” You said and looked at the clock, it was 02:38 in the morning. “But I should probably try and get some sleep now, or I won’t be a real person tomorrow.” He touched the screen on his phone, probably looking at time himself.

“Shit, that’s late. Sorry, I didn’t felt the time” He apologized.

“Me neither” You smiled. You wanted to say more, like how amazing it was talking to him and that’s why time flew like that, how you haven’t felt that in many years. But you didn’t.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. See you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow Holland” He laughed. “What?”

“I like how you call me by my last name. Sounds good. See you tomorrow (y/l/n)”

“I liked how mine sounded in your English accent”

“Yeah? Did I pronounce it right?” He laughed.

“Close enough” You laughed. “Alright, good-bye now”

“Tchau” He said while you hanged up, catching you by surprise.

You couldn’t believe what just happened. Oh boy indeed. You were sure you weren’t even going to be able to sleep tonight, smiling in the dark to yourself like that. Get a grip woman.