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julek · 2 years

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3.2K of modern au trans geralt missing his boyfriend. ! explicit sexual content. happy birthday, @welcomemysentence <3 | read on ao3

! geralt refers to his genitals as cunt & clit.

After Geralt drives Jaskier to the airport, walks with him as far as security will allow, kisses him soundly and wraps him in a bone-crushing hug, and walks back inside a Jaskier-less apartment, he tells himself he’ll do just fine without him.

They’ve spent time apart before. They’ve both gone on week-long trips to visit family, have had unexpected calls on jobs outside of the city. They’re familiar with airport parking lots and kisses that hold promise and tear tracks down rosy cheeks.

Besides, he’s got Roach to keep him company. He’s got snow to shovel every day so he can actually use his car, he’s got a Netflix queue full of wildlife documentaries that he can’t wait to get his hands onto. Work is slow in the winter season, but he’s got plenty of things to distract himself.

(Not that he needs to! He’s a perfectly functioning adult who’s been on his own for longer than he can remember, who’s always paid his own bills and who’s generally been fending for himself since, well, forever — adopted family aside. Old habits die hard.

He was alone before he met Jaskier. He enjoyed— enjoys the fine company that is himself.

Even if his bed is half-empty, and every morning he takes out two mugs for coffee instead of one, and Roach perks her ears up when the doorbell rings, disappointed to find out it’s only mail, or takeout. Even if he finds himself straying to one of Jaskier’s oversized sweaters to lounge in during the day, even if he casually slips in one of his t-shirts to sleep at night.

All very casual, normal, independent-boyfriend stuff).

So he goes about his days as he normally would, when Jaskier is gone: he wakes up at a sensible hour, feeds Roach and plays fetch with her in the living room, makes himself a cup of coffee (with more cream than he lets Jaskier see — he’s got a reputation) and a bowl of oatmeal and fruit and watches the morning news. After, he and Roach go for a run. When they return, Geralt takes a shower, sees what he’ll have for lunch, and after the meditative process of cooking, eating, and washing up, he takes a half-hour nap.

His routine could be in a health magazine, Jaskier’s told him.

Afternoons are spent either shopping for groceries when he needs to, or lounging on the couch, cuddling up to Roach. She seems to believe he’s too clingy when Jaskier is gone, but Geralt thinks she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

(Not that she answers when he asks her. He’s tried. Several times. All he gets are tilted heads and adorable puppy eyes that he snaps too many pictures of to send to Jaskier).

So it’s Netflix without the chill until dinnertime, and after that, it’s a book in bed until Jaskier calls.

(Not that his day revolves around that single occurrence).

It works. It’s fine. He’s fine.

Three days after he dropped Jaskier off at the airport, he thinks he’s never missed him this much.

He’s already laying in bed, dinner eaten and plates washed, but he can’t focus on his book.

He misses the chatter, the noise; the sounds of a house well-lived, well-loved, the trail of objects that follow Jaskier’s footsteps across the wooden floors, the sometimes open cabinets and the single sock fallen from the laundry basket. He misses the sound of his voice, the happy honey, I’m home that started out as a joke, a jab at romantic comedies and their perfect happily-ever-after that got real after time. The low cadence of his voice when he’s sleepy after a nice meal; the baby voice he puts on for Roach and Ciri only; the honey-sweet pet names that Geralt knows only come out when they’re alone. The early-morning I love you and the lunchtime you’re perfect and the late-evening I’m so lucky to have you and the nighttime please stay forever.

And then doing it all over again.

(It’s not lost on him, how despite his initial disdain, his life seems to have been manufactured by Hallmark.

He’s not sure he minds).

He misses his touch. His hello kisses, his goodbye kisses. Forehead kisses, neck kisses, nose kisses. Kisses on the cheek, on his mouth, on his knuckles. On his scars. Strong arms wrapped around Geralt’s middle when they sleep, an arm lazily draped over his shoulder when they watch movies on the couch. Jaskier’s warm hand in his when they get groceries, his frozen nose touching his nape. The way he gives it all away so freely, so easily: a hand in his elbow, on his knee, on his cheek; fingers tangled in his own, in his hair, in his mouth.

Hands on his skin. Traveling the expanse of his back, feeling every knob of his spine, the swell of his ribs. Lingering on every scar that once sliced through his skin, connecting them like constellations from a lost galaxy. Down his neck, down his chest, down the softness of his stomach. Up his legs, up his thighs.

On his ass. Massaging gently, spanking hard. Feeling the sensitive skin of his cheeks. The kisses he presses there, the bites, sometimes. Fingers dusting along his hole, dipping lower, at the front, where his need throbs and aches and drips for him.

Only for him.

Fingers tickling his grey-white hair, there, before he parts Geralt’s lips and allows cool air to hit his cunt, pink and wet. One finger first, gathering the slick, spreading it everywhere. Two fingers, one on each side of his clit, going up and down in slow motions.

Fuck, Geralt misses him so much.

His own fingers have traveled down his chest of their own volition, rucking up Jaskier’s old and faded Reputation Tour t-shirt and toying with the waistband of his boxers. He can feel how wet he is, can feel the way he’s throbbing with need at the mere thought of getting Jaskier’s hands on him — but Jaskier isn’t home, and he won’t be for days.

A whine escapes Geralt’s lips, unbidden, as he draws small circles on the inside of his thighs. He’s rarely one to take it slowly — it’s usually Jaskier who has to reign his need in — but fuck, he wants it to last. He focuses on the present, on the weight of his body against the covers, of the early February rain pit-pattering against the window. On the feel of his hand, ghosting over himself, the heat simmering low in his belly.

He closes his eyes and thinks back to the last time they’d been together before Jaskier left — the way Jaskier had fucked him into the mattress, hard and heavy and so full of love, exactly how he’d asked him to. He thinks of his splayed legs, framing Jaskier’s body rutting into him, Jaskier’s hair matted with sweat and the blissed-out grin on his face as his thrusts became erratic, as he came on Geralt’s chest.

“Fuck,” he groans, pushing his underwear to the side, bending his legs at his knees so that his cunt is exposed to the cool air of the room.

He doesn’t touch himself, not yet — instead he traces one finger lightly on the outer side of his lips, toying with the hair, reveling in the feeling of his still dry skin pushing against the slick pooled at his entrance.

If Jaskier were home, Geralt would ride him; he’d push him back against the mattress and straddle his hips, and he’d watch Jaskier’s face as he impaled himself on his cock, not waiting, not easing himself into it, but letting himself feel the stretch, the burn. He’d ride him in tight circles and then in long, aching upward motions, until they were both a panting mess, breathing kisses into each other’s skin.

But he opens his eyes and Jaskier isn’t there, and Geralt knows they’ve got a box full of toys in the top drawer of the dresser, but he is feeling a bit old-fashioned tonight.

Kneeling on the middle of the bed, he takes off his underwear, kicking it off to the floor. He takes Jaskier’s pillow with him, positioning it between his thighs.

He leaves the shirt on.

There’s always that feeling whenever something touches his cunt for the first time — a hand, a cock, a tongue — and this time is no different: fisting his hands on each side of the pillow, he lets out a shuddering gasp as he brings it up against his cunt, moving back and forth.

“Ah, fuck,” he breathes, setting the pillow down on the mattress and putting his weight on his knees, slowly grinding against it. He can feel the pillow cover already getting wet where it’s pressed against him, and it spurs him on.

He knows which buttons to push to get off more efficiently — had to figure them out, him and Jaskier having a thing for the thrill of almost being caught in public — and he tries to avoid them, tries to make himself last. He can’t edge himself as good as Jaskier does it to him, too much of a hedonist to deny himself the pleasure that blooms from a well-placed stroke on his swollen clit, but he tries.

Changing the angle, he leans forward on his elbows, leaving the pillow underneath his body, still tucked between his legs, and tries rutting forward against it. It’s much more intense laying down — the pillow has nowhere to go, trapped beneath him, the harder edges of the pillowcase lining perfectly with his cunt.

“Fuck,” he moans, holding onto the blankets with a hard grip. “Ah, ah, fuck.”

It feels so mind-numbingly good he almost misses his phone buzzing on the nightstand.

He takes his phone in trembling hands, Jaskier’s contact picture smiling up at him, and he lets it go to voicemail. He can’t possibly answer like this, sweaty and fucked-out.

He sits back against the headboard, trying to calm his breathing, and opens Jaskier’s chat.

Jaskier [11.03]: hey babe i’ll be free in 5! <3

[MISSED CALL from Jaskier]

Jaskier [11.19]: u up?

Jaskier [11.19]: or have u gone to bed already, u old, responsible man

Jaskier [11.19]: :(

[MISSED CALL from Jaskier]

Geralt [11.23]: sorry. calling you now

[OUTGOING CALL...]

“Hey!” comes Jaskier’s voice from the phone’s speakers, and Geralt’s heart lurches. “What are you up to?”

“Hey,” he replies, aiming for cool and casual. “Not much, really. You?”

“Mm, not much either.” There’s a rustle of fabric. “Sorry, I was changing for bed when you called. Were you in the middle of something when I called? Or did you just put your phone in the freezer again.”

“That was one time.”

“Mm,” comes Jaskier’s chuckle, clear as day. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Were you in the middle of something?

“I… was.”

“Oh?” The fabric rustles again. “Tell me?”

Geralt feels his face burn. He doesn’t know how to put it, exactly — that he was laying in bed wearing Jaskier’s shit and nothing else, rutting against the pillow he sleeps with every night.

He closes his eyes.

“I miss you,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Geralt echoes, his heart beating fast in his chest. “Wanna see how much?”

[INCOMING VIDEO CALL]

With a grin, Geralt accepts the call. Jaskier’s face comes into view, and he already looks a wreck.

Geralt is not going to last.

“What did you wanna show me?” Jaskier says casually, as if all Geralt wanted to show him was the new yarn he got at the store, but his breathy voice betrays him.

Geralt takes a minute to look at him before answering. He’s wearing Geralt’s ratty Looney Tunes t-shirt, the one that’s too loose and hangs off his shoulder, and his hair looks soft where he ruffled it with his fingers. There’s warmth in his eyes and his smile, slowly becoming more heated.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, angling the phone so Jaskier can only see his face, pale skin golden against the amber light. Slowly, he trails his fingers down until they reach his cunt, and he shudders as he drags two fingers down. “This.”

He puts his fingers up, shiny and glistening, a string of slick connecting them.

“Fuck,” Jaskier says, his face close to the camera as he tries to get a better look. “Fuck, Geralt— are you trying to kill me?”

Geralt smiles.

“How long?”

“Just a while,” Geralt says. “Got all riled up thinking about you.”

Jaskier splutters. “You can’t— Gods, you can’t just say these stuff to me, Geralt.”

“‘S the truth.”

“Yes, well— doesn’t make it any less hot. Tell me, Geralt,” he says darkly, “what were you doing when I called you?”

Geralt feels his cheeks heat up and looks away. He clears his throat.

“Were you touching yourself?”

“N-no,” Geralt replies. “Was just… thinking.”

“Mm,” Jaskier considers. “What were you thinking about?”

Geralt closes his eyes, letting his hand drift lower. “About— ah— you.” His touch is feather-light on his cunt. “About the last time you fucked me.”

Jaskier groans, a low noise stuck in his throat. “Yeah, fuck. And after? You sounded too fucked-out when you picked up for just thinking.”

Geralt bites back a moan — Jaskier knows him too well. “Yeah,” he admits. He can’t bring himself to say it, though.

“Can you show me, please?” Jaskier’s voice is earnest, a hint of eagerness to it that makes Geralt melt.

“Yeah.”

He turns the camera off for a minute, and props his phone against the headboard, up on some pillows, and aims the camera at himself, kneeling in the center of the bed with the pillow under himself.

He turns the camera back on.

“Fuuuuuck,” Jaskier says brokenly.

“Yeah,” Geralt says with a grin, slowly rocking his hips forward.

“Is that my pillow?”

Geralt nods, laughing softly at Jaskier’s low groan.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re definitely trying to kill me.” He can see Jaskier’s face is flushed in the image. “How’s it feel, baby?”

Geralt moans. “So good— so dry.”

“But you’re wet already.”

“Mm-hm.” Geralt throws his head back, his hips working against the pillow. “Was so wet for you.”

“Hnng.” There’s a rustle of fabric, and when Geralt looks up, Jaskier is touching himself. “Look too good like that, love, I can’t help myself.”

“I miss you,” Geralt says, and feels it in his heart. “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too, fuck— look at you,” he pants. “So beautiful for me. Can you lift your shirt up a bit, love?”

Geralt nods. “D’you want me to take it off?”

“Leave it on, please,” Jaskier says. “Just— I wanna see you.”

Geralt lifts his shirt up to his neck, grabbing the hem between his teeth, and thrusts up so the camera catches everything. He looks down at himself — chest flushed dark pink, glistening with sweat, his cunt dripping and swollen, his lips spread open against the edge of the pillow.

“Fuck, Geralt,” Jaskier groans. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

Jaskier nods and arranges his phone on the nightstand, and his body comes into view — his discarded underwear and his hand stroking his cock, long and thick and mouth-watering as ever, a bead of pre-come at the head.

“Wanna suck you off,” Geralt tells him, one finger reaching down to rub at his clit. “Want you to come on my face.”

“Fuck, yes.” Jaskier’s hand moves faster.

“I’ll make it so good for you,” Geralt says. “Swallow you down and have you pull on my hair until you can’t take it anymore, and then open my mouth and swallow your come, and let you paint my face with it.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier says in warning. “‘M not gonna last.”

“Good,” Geralt says, pressing his finger down on his clit. “I wanna make you come— come for me.”

Jaskier’s choked-off groan fills Geralt’s speakers as he comes on his chest, fine white lines coating the thick hair.

“Fuck,” he says when he catches his breath. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too,” says Geralt, grinning and sitting back on his heels.

Jaskier takes his phone in his hand, sets it back against his knee so Geralt can only see his face. It warms his chest for a second, the lazy angle, the fact that he’s the only one who gets to see Jaskier like this. “And what about you? What do you want?”

Geralt lets out a small whine. “Want you.”

“Mmm,” Jaskier says, one finger lazily playing with the come cooling on his chest. “How do you wanna come tonight? Fingers, toys?” He smiles. “Pillow?”

“Pillow,” Geralt says. “Your pillow.”

“Fuck yeah, baby,” Jaskier groans. “Go on, then, show me how you make yourself come.”

Geralt grabs the pillow in his hands and flips it over, so the side that’s drenched in his slick doesn’t get ruined further. He moans as the cool, crisp fabric of the pillowcase touches his cunt, and he drags the pillow under him lazily.

“Like that,” Jaskier murmurs. “So messy, such a good boy.”

Geralt nods, planting his knees on the mattress and starting to ride the pillow with long thrusts. “Fuck, Jask.”

“When I come home, I wanna see you rut against my pillow again,” Jaskier tells him, voice low. Geralt whines. “I want you on my lap, the pillow under you, and you riding it slowly, very slowly, until you’re so wet the pillow gives you no friction.”

Geralt moans at his words, picking up his pace. He can feel Jaskier’s skin beneath him, can feel heat coiling tight in his belly.

“And then, I want you against my thigh,” Jaskier continues. “I know you love how hairy they are— how it feels so good, prickling at your cunt. I know you like it rough sometimes. I want you to rut against me until your legs give out.”

Geralt’s thrusts become erratic, his knuckles white against the pillow.

“And then I wanna fuck you,” Jaskier says. “Slow and deep and good, because you deserve everything, and I wanna give it to you.”

Geralt comes with a cry, thrusting his hips hard down against the pillow, right where it rubs up against his clit, and he’s drenching the pillowcase, coming so hard and good before melting against the mattress.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

Jaskier laughs from the phone. “Good, love?”

“Uh-huh,” Geralt says, and has half a piece of mind to grab his phone and take it with him as he collapses on top of the pillows. “Fuck.”

His legs are still twitching, his cunt sensitive and slick when he touches a finger to it. He shudders.

“I miss you so much,” he tells him again, this time sated and sleepy, eyes closed. “I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Me too, dear,” Jaskier says softly. “I don’t think I was made to be kept away from you.”

Geralt hums. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier replies, and Geralt can hear the smile on his face. “D’you wanna take a nap? I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Geralt nods, setting the phone down next to him.

“Goodnight, love.”

Goodnight.

#mywriting #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #trans geralt of rivia #i hope you like it <3333333333

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wicked-mind · 3 years

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Betrayed: Chapter Seven

Summary of series: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

Warnings: Mostly just fluff (If there is some type of warning I should tag, let me know please xx)

*Gifs not mine

CHAPTER SEVEN- The Date That Never Happened

Within a few days, Y/n was back to herself. Dimitri hadn’t been in her head since she was taken by Alexei. The soreness that ached in her body from her fight with Alexei had faded. She was able to train again with Clint, who still had a fading bruise on his neck. Y/N apologized profusely for blowing up Clint’s car, but he told her an apology wasn’t necessary. She was excited to get back to normal and not have to be coddled by everybody like she was a delicate flower anymore.

As Y/N was down training with Clint, Bucky had plans surfacing in his mind. He wanted to have a proper date with Y/N, ask her to officially be his girl. He knocks on the door to Wanda’s and Y/N’s room. When the door floated open by itself, he steps into the doorway, looking to Wanda who was eating some waffles and watching an old black and white tv show.

Wanda looks at Bucky, swallowing the bite in her mouth, “Hey Bucky, I think Y/N is still training if you’re looking for her.” She said as she cut another piece of her waffle off to eat.

Bucky smiled and shook his head, “I know, I was actually looking for you. I need your help with something.” He said, leaning against the doorframe and folded his arms, “I want to give Y/N a proper date. You think you can get everybody cleared out tonight for a while?” He asks.

Wanda’s smile grew at the words, “I think I can manage that.” She said happily, “I’ll get everybody to go out for dinner tonight, make sure we give you two a few hours. What do you need me to do?” She put her breakfast on her bedside table, picking up a notebook to make a list on what she could help with.

Bucky smiles as he saw how enthused Wanda was with his idea, knowing already he had her approval when it came to Y/N, “I was going to go pick up some flowers and that mushroom ravioli she loves. I want it to be a surprise. I was thinking around 6 tonight?”

Wanda nods, scribbling down notes onto her notebook, “Okay, I’ll get Y/N ready and set everything up in the kitchen. I’ll get everybody out of here by 5:30.” She said, returning her gaze to Bucky with a smile, “It’ll be perfect, Y/N will be so excited when she realizes what is happening.”

Bucky smiled, looking down for a moment, “I hope so. Thanks for you help, Wanda.” He said, exiting the room to go on his mission to collect flowers and the food he planned to have tonight with Y/N, a grin across his face. He wanted tonight to be perfect for Y/N.

Wanda was busy at work, cleaning up the kitchen to make it sparkle. She found a vase for the flowers, placing it on the table as well as some candles. She was determined to make everything perfect for Bucky and Y/N’s date. Next, Wanda convinced everybody else to go out for dinner tonight. It didn’t take too much convincing, everybody could use a night out anyway and they were happy to help Bucky by clearing out of the facility for a couple hours. Next up on Wanda’s list, distracted Y/N until later and help her get ready. She found Y/N in their bedroom after training, freshly showered and eating a sandwich on her bed

“I’ve been looking for you.” Wanda huffed as she shut the door behind her, wondering if Y/N had noticed the empty vase and candles on the dinning table, “We are all going out for dinner tonight, the whole team, but I need some us time. Want to watch some Grey’s?” She plopped herself down next to Y/N on the bed, grabbing the remote to turn on Netflix.

Y/N nodded to the dinner comment, then pulled her eyebrows together at Wanda as she said she needed some time with her, “Everything okay?” She asks, finishing her sandwich and placing the now empty plate on the bedside table. Y/N wrapped an arm around Wanda, allowing them both to lay back on the single bed to watch Grey’s Anatomy together. They had almost made it through all the seasons on Netflix.

Wanda nodded, leaning back with Y/N, “Yeah, everything is great. I just wanted some us time before we all go out.” She smiled at her friend, before turning her attention to the tv show.

Y/N eyed Wanda suspiciously for a moment, before turning her attention to the tv as well. She happily watched the show with Wanda, laughing with her at the show. Once it was getting closer to dinner time, Wanda and Y/N started getting ready. Y/N wanted to wear just some jeans and nice shirt, but Wanda told her it was going to be a nice dinner and she would have to dress up a little. Y/N rolled her eyes at the thought of having to get all dressed up, but agreed. She changed into a dark blue dress that ended at just about her knees, slipping on some dark heels to match. Of course, she left the dog tags dangling around her neck but tucked them into her dress so only the chain could be seen. Y/N let Wanda curl her hair again as she put on some mascara to darken her lashes. She finished with painting her lips a soft red color.

Wanda smiled, “I’ll meet you there.” She lied, before floating out the door to see Bucky standing in the kitchen holding a bouquet of sunflowers mixed with red roses, “She’ll be out in a minute.” Wanda informed him, waving her hands and using her abilities to light the candles, dim the lights a little, float a wine bottle out of the chiller to the table, and have the tv start playing some soft romantic music. Wanda smiled at Bucky, “Good luck.” She sang before disappearing down the stairs to meet the rest of the team to leave him and Y/N alone for a while.

Y/N walked out, cursing at her shoes which were already hurting her feet. She paused as she walks into the kitchen, noticing the dim lights and music playing. Then her eyes fell on Bucky. He was standing there with a grin on his face, dressed in a dark button up shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He wore matching black pants with some black shoes. She looked at the flowers, then to him, a smile creeping across her lips. Y/N walked towards him as she took in the rest room, noticing the lit candles and food placed out at the table, “We aren’t going to dinner, are we?” She asks him softly, meeting his gaze.

Bucky smiled down at her, “No, doll.” He said softly, passing Y/N the flowers which she gladly accepted, “Wanda helped me get everybody out of here for a few hours so we can finally have that date.”

Y/N looked at the flowers, smiling at the colors before returning her eyes to his face. His words made her heart flutter. Finally they could have their date they always wanted, “I knew Wanda was up to something.” She said with narrowing eyes, before moving and placing the flowers in the vase on the table. She could feel Bucky follow behind her, staying close to her, “This is very nice, Bucky.” Y/N said as she turned to face him, “Thank you.”

Bucky smiled at Y/N. God, she was beautiful. He noticed her still wearing his dog tags around her neck even in the formal ware and it made him grin. The way Y/N moved drew him in closer. He wanted to be closer to her ever since he saw her again, and now he was finally able to show how much he cared for her. He reaches out and grabs her hand, leading her to her seat, “Anything for you.” He pulled out the chair for her to sit, “Now, let’s have some dinner before it gets cold.”

Y/N sat down, looking down at the mushroom ravioli she had been obsessed with since she found out it existed. A grin traced her lips as she realized just how hungry she was. She waited for Bucky to take his seat, watching as he poured them two half glasses of the dark wine. She bit her lip softly. Y/N couldn’t deny how perfect Bucky looked and how amazing he did putting this together. It made her pale cheeks flush into a small blush.

As they ate, the two smiled and joked at each other. Talking about numerous things including memories of their teenage years, how Steve used to put newspaper in his shoes, the games they’d play, and the adventures they’d go on all together. When they finished eating, they held hands on the table, smiling at each other. Bucky watched as Y/N raised the glass to her red lips, once again filled with envy for the glass. He wanted so badly to be in the glass’s place on her lips. Bucky stood, carrying their empty plates to the sink, before returning and holding out his hand to Y/N, wanting to hold her close for a dance to the soft music playing, “Y/N, may I have this dance.” He grinned down at her.

Y/N put the wine glass down, taking his hand and standing. She smiled back at him as he lead her to a more open area away from the dining table. She wraps her arms up and around his neck, stepping closer to him. She bit her bottom lip and blushed as she felt Bucky’s hands wrap around her hips, pulling her closer to his muscular frame which she gladly stepped into. They swayed to the music for a few moments, keeping their eyes locked with each other.

Bucky moves one hand from around Y/N’s waist, lifting it to touch her cheek gently, keeping his eyes locked on hers, “You’re beautiful, Y/N.” He breathed gently as he leaned his face down closer to her’s, his warm breath hitting Y/N’s face gently. He watched her closely as he moved his face closer to her’s, not wanting to overstep with her.

Y/N smiled at his words, feeling his breath on her face made a chill go down her spine, causing her goosebumps to appear along her skin. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, feeling the need to kiss him. Bucky was intoxicating to Y/N in this moment. All she wanted was him. She leaned her face up closer to his, brushing her lips against his soft ones, placing a gentle kiss upon them.

The corners of his lips curled into a smile as he felt Y/N’s lips on his, kissing her back. He pulled her body as close to his as possible. He had waited for this moment for a long time, ever since the day he left for his deployment. He moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, pulling her lips against his as he continued to kiss her. He forced himself to pull away from her lips, watching her eyes flutter open to meet his gaze, “Be my girl.” He whispered to her, more of a statement than a question.

Y/N leaned forward a bit as he pulled away from her lips, not wanting the kiss to end. She looked up into his blue eyes as he spoke, butterflies erupting in her stomach at his words. She nodded, planting a soft kiss to his lips, “I’ve always been yours.” She whispers back against his lips before kissing him again. Y/N kept one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, allowing her other to slide down his shoulder and rest on his chest, gripping his shirt slightly as if trying to pull him closer to her even though their bodies were already touching. She could feel herself wanting Bucky in every way possible.

Bucky couldn’t help himself, he gripped at her waist and pulled her roughly against him as if not wanting any air to come between their bodies, wanting to feel all of her against him. He moved his kisses from her lips and along her jaw, dancing his lips down Y/N’s neck and kissing softly. He stopped himself there, brushing his lips against her soft pale skin. He moved back to look at her. He could see what he was doing to Y/N, not wanting him to stop. But Bucky decided to be a gentleman instead, much to Y/N’s dismay. He could see the want in her eyes which made him grin crookedly down at her, cupping Y/N’s face in his hands, “How’s this for our date?”

Y/N closed her eyes when he kissed her neck, holding back a small whimper that she refused to let pass her lips. When he pulled away from her, she looked at him, meeting his gaze. She smiled, “Better than I’ve dreamed about.” She spoke softly to him, taking in his handsome form which she could officially call her’s.

It wasn’t long until the team was back from their night out, but by the time they were Bucky and Y/N had cleaned up and changed into more comfortable clothes, sitting on the couch and watching the end Indiana Jones movie. Steve always spoke so highly of the series and Y/N wanted to give them a watch. Steve was right, they were really good. Their night ended with Bucky walking her to her room, placing his hand on her cheek and pulling her face to his and placing a gentle kiss on her lips, “Goodnight, doll.” He whispered against her lips before kissing them again.

Y/N smiled as he kissed her, happily giving him kisses back, “Goodnight.” She whispers back to him. She watched him grin at her, then make his way down the hallway and into his bedroom. Y/N watched him until he disappeared, closing the door and leaning against it taking a deep breath. Wanda was sitting on her bed with a triumphant smile, “Tell me all about it.” She demanded.

Y/N chuckled a little bit and sat next to Wanda, crossing her legs and told Wanda everything that happened and what a gentleman he was even though she didn’t want him to be.

“Patience is a virtue.” Wanda sang out as she listened to how Bucky had stopped himself from going further with Y/N, “I’m sure there will be many more hot dates.”

Y/N laughed and nodded, “Patience. Not one of my strengths.” She said softly, moving to her own bed and crawling under the covers, “I can’t believe you lied to me though.” She said, giving Wanda a look.

Wanda flicked the lights out and tucked herself into her own bed, “It was a good lie. Worth the while kind of lie.” She responded. Y/N drifted off to sleep easily, happy at her night with Bucky.

—

‘Where am I?’

Y/N thought as she dreamt. She was in some sort of building. The lightening was dim and the room was cold. She walked slowly down a long hallway towards a black door, opening it. She saw Dimitri sitting at a table, smirking on the phone. She waited to see if Dimitri looked over to her, but when he didn’t she approached him slowly. Looking down at what was on the table in front of him as she listened to his phone call. The folder had a red star on it with Bucky’s full name as well as Winter Soldier Project written on the cover.

“Thank you. This will help me out.” Dimitri said, opening the folder, “Yes, yes. I’ll return your daughter to you untouched.” He growled and ended the phone call. He flipped through the pages, finally finding what he needed, “Ten little words.” He chuckled.

Y/N watched as he flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the pages for information on Bucky as the Winter Soldier. Seeing the words, her eyes widened, realizing what Dimitri’s plan was. He was planning to activate Bucky as the Winter Soldier to get to her.

“Bucky.. no..” She whispered to herself, forcing herself to wake up from the dream.

Wanda was already awake, looking at Y/N with wide eyes, “I saw it too. You were in his mind. You two have become more connected.” She said, moving out of her bed to sit next to Y/N, “I thought all those files on Bucky were destroyed. If he has those words… Dimitri can activate Bucky and control him.” She whispered, a little fear in her eyes.

Y/N nodded, fear running across her face as she thought about what she saw. The fact that the Winter Soldier, the one who took her, could come back brought her mind to a dark place. She couldn’t let that happen. Y/N had to protect Bucky, and the rest of those that lived in the facility. She returned her gaze to Wanda, giving her a look as if she knew what she needed to do.

Wanda sighed, “I hate that face.” She muttered, “That’s your ‘I have a plan and you’re going to hate it’ face.”

Y/N nodded, running one hand through her hair, “Yeah. You are definitely going to hate it. But I need to destroy that folder before Dimitri has a chance to come here.”

Wanda sighed again, her face turning into one of defeat realizing she may not have any other option but to go along with whatever Y/N’s plan was, “Okay, so what is this awful plan?”

__________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @the-ayo-lit @daddysfavoritesexkitten@springsoulofengland @tcc-gizmachine @taina-eny@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @vivien-1211 @buckylove123

@subtlemalice @abitofeverythinggg @uwu-sebastianstan@nickangel13

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvelfanfic #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Not yours.

summary: someone tries to force their way back to y/n's life and harry isn't having any of it.

word count: ----

based on these requests:

“also!! what about something angsty? maybe artemis gets hurt or something and harry is just in full on dad mode”

and

“What about caleb seeing the trio on tabloids, so he gets slightly jealous and “want’s” back into Artemis’ life unexpectedly.”

and

“ could you write something for my shy little boy about Artemis real father finding out that harry adopted him and showing up at their house claiming that Artemis is his son and basically trying to claim his rights as a father, and harry gets REALLY protective, plsss i would love that concept”

and

“Can you do one in the shy little boy universe where Artemis's dad tries to come back in his life or something. Like he sees them and he's life 'give me a second chance' . I love your writing. Thanks”

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

November, 2019.

Park days were the best days for the Styles family. They didn’t get to have them as much as they’d like as they were always so busy, but today was an off day and Artemis was responsible for choosing what they were going to do. And of course he chose the park.

Y/N packed some snacks in a picnic basket while Harry took the job of dressing Artemis up. Obviously Artemis ended up way too dress up for just going to the park but it wasn’t a secret Harry was crazy about them wearing the same color or matching outfits to go out.

Harry had picked a pair of white shorts and paired it with a pastel yellow polo shirt he tucked into the shorts. Artemis looked adorable although Harry knew his son most likely get the clothes dirty as soon as they arrive to the park.

“Daddy, my nose itches.” Artemis tried to take off his glasses but Harry stopped him.

Last month they had an appointment with the ophthalmologist and Artemis had to change his glasses at his doctor's request. But Artemis wasn't happy with his new ones, he was always looking for an excuse to take them off or hiding them from his parents.

"Better?" Harry asked, using his fingers to scratch softly where Artemis pointed it itched. The much smaller boy nodded. "You need the glasses, sweetheart. Don't take them off."

"I like my old ones better, why can't i have those?"

"Those doesn't work for you anymore, monkey." He explained. "C'mon, let's put your shoes on." Harry knelt in front of him to watch how Artemis ties his sneakers up, he smiled when his son made it without a problem.

"I just put the things in the car, are you ready?" Y/N said when she saw them coming down the stairs.

"Yes! Let's go, let's go!" Artemis almost jumped from the lasts steps.

Artemis rambled the entire ride about all the fun things they’d do together once they got there, constantly asking if they were at the park already. When they arrived, Harry was surprised it wasn’t so full of people, considering it was the weekend. Y/N unfolded the blanket on the grass, laying the stuff they brought.

“Daddy, let’s play.” Artemis pulled from Harry’s arm, making the latest chuckle.

“Just be careful, please. We don’t want you to fall.” Y/N remained her son, who was too busy running around with his dad.

It was a beautiful day outside, there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky, and the weather was perfect despite being in the middle of November. Harry had packed a Frisbee Artemis liked to use in their backyard and that’s what they were using to play.

Harry made sure to throw it softly at his son, not wanting the toy to hit him in the face. Artemis threw his hands in the air every time his daddy caught it.

Everything happened too fast, none of his parents could catch Artemis before he was face down on the grass. He had tried to throw the Frisbee higher but didn’t control his strength and he ended up on the floor.

Harry’s eyes grew wide as he ran towards the small child, his heart breaking as he heard his loud sobs. He picked him up from the grass and scooped him in his arms.

"Are you hurt? Where does it hurt, baby? Is it your arm?" He said, panic visible in his tone.

"He scraped his knees." Y/N said before cooing at Artemis, trying to calm him down. "Got some band aids for your knees, my love. It's okay." She took him in her arms and handed the band aids to Harry so he could put them on his boy's knees after cleaning the little blood that was there.

Caressing his hair softly, Y/N sat back down on the blanket, putting Artemis on her lap to wipe his tears off. "All better?" He nodded with a pout on his face.

Harry copied his son's pout, sitting next to them on the blanket. He didn't like seeing his love being upset, and he'd lie if he said he didn't feel a little guilty for him getting hurt.

"It's okay, accidents happen and sometimes we get hurt." Y/N said as if she could read Harry's thoughts. "What if we eat and then we can go for ice cream."

The smile reappeared on Artemis' face as he stood up from his mum's lap and cheered excitedly. Artemis ate whatever Y/N had packed for them, hurrying his parents so they could go get dessert.

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked Harry at the end of the day when Artemis was falling asleep on his daddy's shoulder as he carried him back to the car. "You've been quiet since he fell."

"Just worried. Should we take him to ER?"

"For scraped knees? Don't think so. Harry, it's fine, really. He doesn't even remember he has them." She assured. "Tomorrow it will be all better."

"But he cried so loud." He furrowed as they reached the car and Y/N opened the door of the backseat so Harry could put him on his carseat. "I was worried he hurt his elbow or something."

"I guess it was more out of surprise. He wasn't expecting to fall facedown on the floor." Once everything and everyone were in the car, Harry started to drive back home. "Please don't beat yourself up for this. It was literally an accident."

"But i was playing with him."

"Yes, but you couldn't have prevented it from happen."

She put a hand on his thigh, not wanting him to feel any worse from something so small. Artemis doesn't have a lot of accidents as he is a calm boy who doesn't play sports or anything that requires running or jumping, but when they happen, he gets scared and that's normal. No kid likes to see blood coming out of them, even if it's only a little.

"As a parent the best you can do is stay calm during these situations. If you don't panic, then he doesn't either." She smiled at him.

Y/N loved how protective Harry was, his skills as a parent never failed to show in any situation. But he was still very new at it, and he couldn't help but want to put his boy in a little bubble so nothing bad would happen to him.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

A week later, Y/N was cooking dinner while Artemis was upstairs in the movie room watching a cooking show on Netflix. Lately he's been obsessed with those and could watch entire seasons if his parents let him.

Harry was out having a meeting with his team but promised to be back for dinner, so it was just the two of them in the house.

The buzzer sounded, alerting someone was at the other side of the gates. Y/N put down the knife she was holding and walked towards the little screen that allowed her to see who was there.

Her breathe hitched when she saw Caleb standing there. He was looking the other way but Y/N could recognize him anywhere. A frown appeared on her face as he hit the buzzer again. She stayed in her place, starting at the screen and hoping he'd turn around and leave.

But he didn't.

She was ready to go outside and tell him to leave but she heard the gates open before she could do so. The gates opening meant Harry was home.

And home he was. But he furrowed as soon as he saw a body standing there. He didn't recognize the man but he was pretty sure he's seem his face before.

He parked inside but didn't close again the gates as he returned outside. "Can i help you?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Is Y/N home?" The stranger asked, putting his hands inside of his pockets. "I need to speak to her."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Doesn't matter, i need to see Y/N."

"Uh, it does matter, actually. Why is it so important to speak to my girlfriend?" Harry questioned again in a protective tone.

Before he could answer Harry's question, Y/N came out of the house, closing the door behind her before rushing towards the two man. She stood beside Harry, taking his hand in hers.

"What are you doing here, Caleb?" She asked and Harry's brain finally clicked. He looked so different from the only picture he's seen of him. "What do you want?"

"I need to see him, Y/N." Caleb said, almost in a demanding tone. Y/N looked up at Harry, who already had a deep, angry frown on his face. "I-I saw that video of you three at the park and... Y/N, i'm ready to meet my-"

"He's not your son." Harry barked angrily.

"Harry's right, Caleb. He's not yours in any way." She said sternly. "Besides, i bet it isn't the first video or picture you've seen of us, what could possibly make this one different?"

"I saw him getting hurt." He said defensively. "It.. awoke something in me. I want to be a father, Y/N."

"Then go ahead and get a family of your own because neither Artemis nor I have anything to do with you. Do i have to remind you, you signed the paper giving up your paternal rights?" Y/N started to get angry and Harry squeezed her hand.

"I was twenty-one, Y/N."

"So was I!" She now exclaimed.

"I think it's best if you leave." Harry spoke again, trying to control his anger before he punched that man straight on the face.

"And you are?" Caleb asked "Oh, right. You're the guy she replaced me with. Does my son calls you daddy too?"

"She didn't replace you, she just moved on with someone way better." He smirked. "And yes, my son calls me daddy, must hurt, right? Now get the fuck out of my property before i call the bloody cops."

Harry let go of Y/N's hand just to push Caleb out, not being able to hold his anger anymore. "If i ever see you close to my family, i'll fucking ruin you."

When Caleb was back on his car, Harry finally closed the gates and turned to see Y/N. "I'm sorry you had to see him, my love."

Y/N sighed. "I'm okay. I just... I hadn't seen him since he..." Her lip started trembling but she swallowed the tears. "Seeing his face brought back a lot of emotions."

"Couldn't imagine." Harry took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "But you won't see him anymore, over my dead body."

"Thank you."

Harry smiled softly at her, supping her face with his hands and pecking her lips. "Thank you for letting me be the one by your side."

"I wouldn't dream of having anyone else."

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

@myfavfanficsever @odetostep @la-cey @cock-a-doodely-doo @awkwardbullfrog @mellamolayla @moorgannn @bagtan-serendipity @awesomebooklover17 @finelineribs @sunnybusiness @beanholland @sweetenerstyle @cronias13 @vhsharry @maisley @seasidecrowbar @stylesfics-xx @autumnpauley20 @fineline-hs1 @stephaniemalvie @immajustreadwritereblog @jadert15 @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @abundanceofsoph @harrysthicccthighs

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #dad!harry #stepdad!harry #harry styles fanfiction

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thekatebridgerton · 2 years

Note

Is this a safe space to talk about how much I hated s2 (except J&S ofc). Like they butchered my favorite book in the series and stole all of the heart out of it. And for what? To maximize drama. I’m just so disappointed

Yup, it's a safe space, those of you who loved the show, please skip this post, or simply block the tag '#what the fuck netflix' which is how I'm tagging all my s2 slander.

I promise with the exception of that tag this blog is wholesome Bridgerton content.

Those of you who didn't like s2 go ahead rant to your hearts content. I disliked 90% of it too and I understand we book readers need catharsis among each other.

The important thing is not to go around complaining to those who loved the show about what a let down this season was to us. That would be rude. Still we are definitely allowed to vent to each other.

S2 just rid me of any f I had to give about Bridgerton being a faithful adaptation of the books. Right now the only way I get by is to mentally call it an excellent fanfiction and applaud the show's clever attempt at playing in Julia's sandbox.

Whatever is cannon in s2, doesn't apply to me. (Unless it's the 10% I liked. Such as Penelope's entire character arc. )

I think I would have been happier if I'd gone to watch s2 without reading the books beforehand and just been pleasantly surprised to find that The Viscount who Loved me was better.

But then again, if I hadn't read the books I wouldn't have stuck around for 7 more episodes once the love triangle was introduced. I hate siblings love triangles. Trust me Elena Gilbert, Damon and Stefan completely cured me of any fascination I ever had with family destroying love triangles. When the CW tried to do it again with Haley, Klaus and Elijah it became Reason #1 why I never watched 'The originals'

But hey, what's more dramatic than two siblings inlove with the same person and the third person being an indecisive idiot? Drama sells after all

#bridgerton #what the fuck netflix #Bridgerton season 2

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 3 years

Text

It Was You (Part One)

A/N: Jensen and Y/n are childhood best friends. When his agent informs him that his image could use some improvement for a role, will she help him? Or will her feelings get in the way?

A holiday (Christmas centric) Jensen x Female!Reader Best Friends to Lovers series for @spnchristmasbingo. Un-beta’d, so all mistakes are mine. Header created by me with images from Google. Chapter word count: 3371

Series Warnings: break up; angst-ish at times (if you squint), but mostly all the fluff.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is single in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

The slight chill of a Vancouver December morning roused you from a peaceful sleep, making you snuggle further into the down blanket and comfort of your plush bedding. It was two weeks until Christmas and the weather was supposed to be a balmy high of 32 degrees today, so you had planned to stay in, do some shopping online, and stay by your cozy fireplace with every holiday movie you could find. Willing yourself to get five more minutes of shut eye seemed like a helpless feat as the wintry cold seeped into your apartment. You opened your eyes to the gentle prisms of light floating in through the adjacent window, the sunrise indicating it was time to get up for the day.

Sitting up to perch on the side of your bed and grabbing your wide-rimmed glasses from the nightstand, you slid your chilled toes into the warm slippers waiting and shrugged on your fuzziest sweater. It may be time for that fire sooner than you thought.

Padding into your kitchen to get a much-needed caffeine fix after last night’s dinner and drinks with the rest of the cast and crew, you took your favorite mug from the cabinet and loaded the coffee maker, making an extra cup or two for you and any visitors you might have a bit later.

Jensen’s apartment was down the hall, and if you knew him, he’d still be sleeping, but he’d probably wander over at some point this morning. Cradling the mug in your hands warmed them slightly and sent a shiver down your spine. Even your warmest pajamas and the heat from the thermostat did little against the Canadian winds. Laughing slightly to yourself, you’d thought you’d be used to it after six years of winters here.

You wandered towards the windows of your living room to pull back the long curtains. It was a favorite spot to have your coffee and gaze at the sights of Vancouver. Settling on the window seat, you felt a warmth spread through you as you noticed it had snowed in the night, and from the looks of it, it was a depth of fresh, soft powder – a type that you rarely saw growing up in Texas. People were bundled up tightly as they walked the streets, but a few people, adults and kids alike, were already out playing in the thick blanket of snow.

As your coffee began to warm you through, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling of joy that rose at the sight – it made the holiday season and the spirit of it even more intense than just viewing the lights of downtown and the large decorations everywhere. For some reason, snow just sealed it all up in a nice little bow.

Sure enough, about halfway into your second cup of coffee, you heard a key in your door and Jensen shuffled in, still wearing his pj’s with tousled hair, but he had thrown on a thick sweater too.

“Good morning.” You called, still seated at the large window.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” He replied with a quick wave as he tossed his keys on the counter and waltzed into your kitchen in search of his mug, his voice still thick and gruff with sleep.

He mixed his cream and sugar and took a long sip, letting out a contented sigh after the steaming liquid entered his body. He was notoriously grumpy without his coffee, but he always met you with a sweet greeting when he came over. Walking around your kitchen island and into your open living room, he slumped into the recliner across from you and pulled the leaver to release the footing, allowing him to lean back with his feet up. He adjusted himself to get comfortable, careful to not spill the mug in his hand.

“What time did you get in last night?” you asked, taking another sip from your own cup.

He covered his eyes with his free hand, still obviously tired. “About 2:30. You know how Jared gets when we break for hiatus, he never wants the party to end. He was still talking to me as I was shutting my door.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Jared was the most social person you’d ever met and knowing that he wouldn’t be back to Canada and on set for a month, he would always soak up every little bit of time he had with the cast and crew. Even though Jensen was griping about it now, you knew he also didn’t mind. He’d probably be missing everyone, especially Jared, about four days into the break. You didn’t get home until about 1 a.m., and that was only because you were beginning to doze off in your cocktail.

“Tell Cliff thanks again for driving me home last night. I just couldn’t cut it.”

“Yeah, I know… Lightweight.” Jensen teased.

“Hey, you didn’t have a 5 a.m. set call yesterday like some of us.”

Jensen huffed a small laugh from his seat, still resting his hand across his closed eyes. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and his green Henley stretched across his biceps as he rested his coffee on his thigh. A slight 5 o’clock shadow and the bedhead he was sporting all combined into a handsome image. He may be your best friend, but you could still appreciate the looks the man was blessed with.

Seemingly close to falling back asleep, you called to him in a hushed voice, “Jay. If you want to go back to sleep just put your coffee mug on the table, okay?”

“Hmmmph. No, I’m up.” He fibbed, as evident from the way he blinked widely once he opened his eyes again. Forcing himself to stand, otherwise he would really fall back asleep instead of just resting his eyes, he walked towards you with his cup, dragging his feet slightly as his legs sluggishly pulled him across the room. His head was down and his shoulders were wilted, but he was trying to get his body moving.

When he reached you, you felt his chest bump your shoulder before he rested his cheek on the crown of your head, his arm dangling by his side as he slumped. He took a deep breath before rubbing his hand across your back and standing, smiling as you peered up at him with a grin.

Licking his lips, he finally peered out to the streets below and his eyes went wide, “Y/n!” he practically shouted.

You flinched, “What? What’d I do?”

“You didn’t tell me it snowed!”

Giving a huff and a giggle, you couldn’t help but be sarcastic, “I’m sorry, was I supposed to while you were falling asleep in my chair?! Besides… it’s Canada. It’s not like snow is very rare here.”

“Y/n! That’s, like, snow! The kind we used to wish for when we were kids!”

“I know, I thought that too.”

“Well, c’mon!” he said, setting his cup down on the ledge. “We gotta go!”

“What? Go where?”

Jensen was already halfway through your living room and heading for the front door but paused to turn and point a finger in your direction, “You, me, snowman. Now.”

“Jay,” You whined. “It’s cold and its early. You sure you don’t want to just watch Netflix?”

“Y/n!” he said once again, looking as excited as a 12-year-old on a snow day from school. “Snowman! Please?” he begged, waving his arms frantically as he gestured outside.

“Okay, okay. Fine. No need to use your puppy eyes on me. I’ll meet you outside in 15 minutes.”

With that, a huge grin broke out on his face and he took off down the hall, leaving you to go in search of your heaviest ski jacket.

Jensen knocked on your door soon after you shrugged into the puffy coat, dressed in thick snow pants, his own jacket, and a black beanie and gloves with a small bag in his hand. Straitening your scarf before locking your door, he barely gave you a moment to put on your knitted pom beanie before he was pulling you by your hand towards the elevator of your building and pushing you out of the revolving doors into the frigid air. Heading to the side where a large park sat adjacent to your complex, he looked around before tugging you along to a spot with a large open space. He nodded to himself, as if to say he’d found the perfect place for his snowman-building escapade. As your boots crunched beneath you, you each began gathering handfuls of snow to make a large base, then packed and sculpted two more spheres. Though you initially protested, you had to admit that it was fun, and the coldness against your cheeks wasn’t bad after a bit, particularly after seeing how happy Jensen was when his finished product towered over yours. He’d managed to gather the majority of the snow within about a six-foot radius of where his snowman stood before piling it high.

“Hey, hey… look at that. An accurate height difference!” He touted, teasing you.

“Oh, hush you. It’s not my fault that you were given the extended version of the human body.” You glared at him playfully.

He laughed as he bent to rummage in the bag he’d brought, producing two carrots. He wiggled them in his hands before handing one to you. He was just about to place it in a very telling place when you grabbed a handful of snow and threw it in his direction.

“Jensen!” You berated. “That’s not where the carrot goes! There’s kids out here!”

He stood up slowly, turning to you with a serious smirk, “Did you seriously just throw a snowball at me?”

Wiping your hand on your pantleg quickly, you gave him a mischievous grin, “Who, me? I’d never.”

“Oh, its on!” he declared as he bent to scoop up the little bit of remaining snow in his reach, that which he hadn’t used for his snowman.

Ducking behind your own, he threw and missed, sending the snow flying passed you. A quick grab from around you produced another snowball that you chucked from behind your shield, hitting him square in the chest. The fight lasted for a good while, the two of you trying your hardest to target the other as many times as possible and receiving some laughs and glances from passersby as they walked along the sidewalk. Finally, Jensen gave up and took off towards you, chasing you in circles before he tackled you into the plush ice, pinning you beneath him as he tried to bury you both.

“Jay! Oh my God, stop! Its freezing!” you yelled through your laughter.

“Truce?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in a challenge.

He was still on top of you, his nose and cheeks a bit flushed from the wintry air. He still had that devilish smirk on his face, but his green eyes were soft and something beneath them made your heart flutter slightly in your chest. He scanned your face quickly before glancing towards your lips, but you were quick to snatch another fistful of snow to smash onto his head. Scrambling out from underneath him, you ran as he said something about you being a cheater before he jumped to his feet.

After the war ended and a truce was finally declared, you both put the finishing touches on your snowmen after you found sticks for the arms and coerced Jensen to put the carrot in the right spot. He stood back proudly, admiring your handiwork.

“Hey.” He gestured to you, “C’mere.”

A bit warry that he was going to tackle you again, you came to his side as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and turned on the camera. Pulling you into him, he said, “Gotta have evidence of our masterpieces.” He reached around your waist and tugged you in close, framing both of you and your snowmen in the background. The cold air made the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks change in color, and there was still some snow in your hair from when Jensen wrestled you, but both of you smiled widely. Feeling the scruff of his short beard against your temple and his arms wrapped around you made you think about the way his eyes danced across your face moments ago, but the thought was quickly dismissed as he stepped away from you slightly after he made sure the picture wasn’t too blurry.

“Oh, crap. Is that what time it is?” he said, alarmed, looking at his phone screen. “I have to meet Stacy in an hour.”

Stacy was his publicist and agent, but he usually didn’t meet with her during the hiatus. “You’re meeting Stacy today? What’s up?” you asked, a bit confused.

“She wants to talk to me about this movie. Some sort of romantic drama she thought I may be good for.”

“Oh,” you replied, “that’s great! You didn’t tell me! Would you have to cut back filming the show?” While you were a bit surprised, you were genuinely happy for him.

“Stacy knows Supernatural comes first, so I hope not.”

“Well, let’s get inside so you can warm up and change. I was going to make my mom’s chili and cornbread for dinner tonight, if you want to join me after your meeting.”

The excitement on his face was palpable as his eyes lit up the moment you said it, “You know how much I love your mom’s chili. We’re just meeting for coffee near her office, so I’ll bring the beer.”

As you were walking back into the building, your phone rang. It was Stephen, your boyfriend of three months.

“Stephen, hey.” You said as you entered the elevator, not missing the slight eyeroll that Jensen gave.

“Hey, honey. How are you? I didn’t want to call too early, just in case you were still sleeping after last night.”

“I’m good, thanks. Actually, just got done building a snowman with Jensen.”

A short silence followed, until Stephen spoke up again. “Oh, that’s nice.” He said, his voice noticeably clipped. “Well, I’m going to take my lunch break soon. Would you like to meet up? I can come to your side of town.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll meet you at that café on 3rd in about a half an hour?”

“Sounds great. See you there.”

Shoving your phone back in your pocket, you ignore Jensen’s stare as the elevator climbed to your floor.

“So…” he pressed. “Stephen?”

“Yeah, Stephen. We’re going to meet up for lunch while you have your meeting.”

“Hmph.” He huffed.

“Jay, we’ve known each other our whole lives and to this day you’ve never liked a single guy I’ve ever dated. What’s wrong with Stephen?”

“I don’t know. He’s just kind of… meh.”

He wasn’t lying, if you were being truthful. Stephen was meh. He was cute and had nice eyes and dimples, but he didn’t make you laugh. He was a bit dull and your sense of humor didn’t mesh with his well. Still, you thought that it might get a bit better once you got to know each other and began to understand one another more. Your relationship was still very casual, but maybe it could go further? You weren’t really sure, honestly.

“What about you and Laura?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.

“I told you… that was nothing.” He quipped as you reached your door. “We went on like three dates.”

“Yeah, the last one being just this past week.”

“Yeah, and it just didn’t go well.”

You let out a small sigh. Discussing your dating lives wasn’t really something the two of you loved to do with each other. Maybe when you were teenagers, yeah. You’d asked each other for advice and gossiped a bit about the people in your high school, but as you grew into adults it just became a subject you both steered away from besides the occasional, hey I’ve got a date conversation. Neither of you had ever really found a person that the other approved of, each finding a reason to be picky every time.

“I’m sorry, Jay. I’m just deflecting.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was pushing.” He said sincerely with a small smile. “Well, you enjoy lunch. My meeting’s at 1:30 across town, so I should be back by 4 at the latest. Pick out a movie for us, okay?”

“Sounds great. I will.” With that, he kissed you quickly on the side of your head and went into his apartment as you ducked into yours. You freshened up quickly and changed, grabbing a different peacoat, hat, and scarf as your others were still wet.

It was a short walk to the café, and they had good sandwiches. You were surprisingly hungry, so you were glad to see Stephen waiting outside for you. He gripped your hand tightly and gave you a quick kiss in greeting before leading you into the restaurant. You were seated and ordered quickly, knowing that he would have to return to work soon.

“So, how has your day been?” You asked as you shrugged off your coat, hanging it on the chair behind you.

“It’s been… good.” He muttered.

“Uh oh,” You said, getting his attention as he looked away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really. I was just surprised to hear that you were with Jensen today. You had mentioned you were going to stay home.”

Stephen smiled, almost in an attempt to let you know that he was trying to be lighthearted about it, but you could tell it bothered him.

“Yeah, when he saw it snowed last night, he just really wanted to make a snowman.” You laughed, trying to steer away from the subject. Stephan wasn’t overstepping, but he also wasn’t going to prevent you from spending time with Jensen. The two of you had been inseparable since, well, practically since birth. Your parents had been the best of friends, so you were pretty much raised together.

“Have you, um…” Stephen began, hesitantly. “I know you’ve been friends forever, but have you ever had feelings for him?”

His blue eyes shown with a slight jealousy as you felt a slight pang to your heart.

“No, of course not.” You managed to say with a steady voice and a smile as you picked up your napkin to place in your lap.

It was a lie, one that you’d been telling for years. At one point in your life, you were in love with Jensen. But, the past was in the past. If Jensen didn’t even know, why should Stephen?

Stephen seemed satisfied with your response for the most part, and the two of you had a pleasant lunch. When you stepped away to use the restroom, your phone chimed. Stephen tried not to even look towards your side of the table where your phone sat, but when he saw Jensen’s name, he read the text quickly before the screen dimmed.

Hey, sweetheart. Finishing up here soon and then I’ll be heading home. Do you need me to grab anything from the store?

Stephen knew the two of you were a package deal, and thought he could honestly be alright with it, but between working together and spending practically all of your time together, he was starting to wonder where he fit in in your life. He busied himself by checking his Instagram as he thought about what he should do and found that Jensen had tagged you in a photo from this morning. The caption was simple, just a few words about the filming hiatus and the first snow of the season, but the two of you were so close. Stephen found himself wishing that you could reserve a smile like that for him, but he had yet to see it.

It hurt, but he knew he couldn’t play second fiddle to Jensen. He cared about you, but perhaps it was better to bow out now.

“Hey, sorry about that.” You said brightly as you got back to the table, smiling. It still didn’t reach your eyes, though.

Stephen leaned forward on his elbows with a sigh, “Y/n, I think we should talk.”

To be continued...

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

8 Letters

OR: 4 times he couldn’t say he loved you + 1 time he did

Ok, here we are with the very over hyped Vince fic! This was inspired by 8 Letters by Why Don’t We and has been swimming around in my head for a while before I realize it fits with this himbo.

Shoutouts to the following (and hopefully this is short because this is not an awards show even though it would be fun to pretend it is): @vincecdunn because Nikki’s the reason I’m on the Vince train so as retaliation I’m just going to keep sending her ideas for more fics to write, @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys and @broadstbroskis for allowing me to come into your inboxes and be annoying and bounce ideas off of, and then @pettypetey and @pumpkinpatchmakar for the ways to say I love you and I’m 100% forgetting people but that’s just because I suck

Other people who wanted to be tagged: @all-time-fanatic @marialovesdean @oyeinpayne @ghstandpucks @maybehockeymaybenot @itzelmunoz and @thecasualyogi (unsure why it isn’t letting me tag you sad boi)

So, here we go, all 7.8k words of this 4+1

______________________

Tonight was one of the first nights in a while that the two of you were able to spend together, Vince on the road on and off for what felt like longer than usual and you just drowning at work. Any chance you got to be together at this point was almost always spent alone in the comforts of your place or his. You were spending it at your place, watching him stand at the stove as he cooked dinner for the two of you.

“God, who you have thought someone could look so sexy stirring pasta,” you admire him, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

He laughs, putting the large spoon on the counter, turning around to face him. Vince approaches you, pulling you close to him. His hand finds the small of back, the other tilting your chin up to him. He bites his lip, looking down at you. “You think that’s sexy, just wait,” he says, his lips planted against yours before you can say anything else.

You pull away at the sound of splashing water, seeing the pot boiling over. “Ah, fuck,” Vince releases his grip and runs to turn the burner down, you laughing as he goes back to stirring the boiling bubbles away.

“You know what’s great about this?” you say, sarcasm dripping in your voice.

“Oh no,” he mutters, bringing the pot over to the sink to drain the excess water, knowing that whatever you’re going to say isn’t going to be great for him.

“You get to clean up.”

He puts the now empty pot back on the stove, shaking the remaining water off the pasta in the strainer, “But I made the dinner!”

“Yeah, and then you made the mess.”

He turns to you, a mischievous look on his face. “You’re evil,” he says, lunging at you, lifting you off the ground and sending you into a fit of giggles as you try to wriggle your way free of his grasp.

“Vince!” you squeal, your arms overlapping his. “Put me down!”

“I like holding you, though,” he whines, putting you down without letting you go.

You turn around to face him, putting your hand on his face, tracing a random pattern on his cheek with your thumb. “Hold me on the ground and after you put the pesto on the pasta,” you tell him, giving him a quick kiss before pushing him away. “I thought you didn’t like pesto?”

He shrugs, putting pasta into the bowls you hand him. “I’m not crazy about it, but it’s your favorite, so I’ll put up with it for you.”

You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks over something so simple. “You’re nice,” you tell him, in a sing-songy voice, taking a bite of the pasta.

“Only to you,” he says, sending you a wink that makes your insides flutter.

Properly full from the simple dinner, after you clean the dishes and Vince cleans the stove, you retreat to your bedroom where you planned on spending the rest of the night. “What do you want to watch tonight?” Vince asks you, settling onto your bed with your TV remote in hand.

He reaches his arm out, gesturing for you to come snuggle up next to him, perfectly fitting against him as he kisses the top of your head, the warmth from his body comforting you more than the blankets that covered your bed probably ever would. “Gossip Girl,” you insist, knowing what his reaction would be.

Vince groans, throwing his head back. “Come on, that show is so bad.”

You look up at him, imitating the puppy dog eyes and signature pout he would give you all too often when he was asking you to do something. “Yes. But that’s what makes it so good to watch,” you plead.

He rolls his eyes, giving in and pulling it up on your Netflix. “Now how could I say no to that face,” he tells you.

“You can’t,” you tell him as he pulls up the show.

Letting out a small, “Yay,” you earn a giggle from his lips before kissing him quickly and settling into the show. You start with the first episode of the second season, Vince stroking your arm absentmindedly, laughing at how cheesy the show is. He steals the occasional glance at you, loving how closely you could pay attention to anything in front of you, analyzing, critiquing, admiring what was before you. You did it with anything and everything that you fixated on, something Vince could never do and something he loved about you.

Not that you’ve said you love each other yet. But, you were the only thing he could focus on outside of hockey at any moment.

“The true reason I should stay right where I am and not get in the car,” the two of you watch Blair Waldorf on your screen in her scene with Chuck Bass. “Three words. Eight letters. Say it, and I’m yours.”

The screen cuts to Chuck, his hesitation. “I-I...”

“Thank you. That’s all I needed to hear,” with Blair getting in the car, leaving Chuck standing there watching the girl he knew he loved drive off with his heart.

That part always made you cry, letting out a soft sob at the sight of the character you hated the most, actually experiencing heartbreak, slightly humanizing the demon that you thought he was. Vince, paying more attention to you than the show, had no clue what was happening.

“This is a dumb question,” he starts, watching you wipe the tears that had fallen down your face, “But what are the three words?”

You sit up, your hand placed on his thigh sending a chill through his body. “I love you.”

His eyes go wide, swallowing hard. Given what just happened in the episode, he knew it was ridiculous to think, but he couldn’t help but wonder if what just happened on your screen would happen right now. “Are... are those the words or are you telling me?” he asks, his voice shaking.

You hesitate for a moment. You had been together for five months already. He was the person you trusted the most, no matter how dumb he might be sometimes. You would do anything for him, and you were sure that he would do anything for you. You thought about him constantly, but you had never been in love before. Whatever you felt for Vince was something you hadn’t felt for anyone. “Both,” you decide, seeing the panic wash over his face. “You don’t have to say it back. I’m not gonna leave you if you don’t,” you reassure him.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, trying to muster up the courage to actually say what he wanted to. He knows how he feels about you, but, “I can’t say it.” You knew the pain you felt at hearing those words flashed over your face for a moment because of the quick, “I’m sorry,” he let out before getting up off your bed and heading for the door.

“Vince, hey, wait,” you say, chasing after him and beating him to your door. With your back against it, you look at your boyfriend, panicked, breathing fast, hands shaking. “Vince,” you say his name again, hearing it coming from you calming him down, “You don’t have to say it. I promise. Just please, don’t leave.”

He studies your face, the pain that he just caused you still showing. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, dropping his head.

“Hey,” you say, tilting his head up to look at you. “Listen to me when I say this: it’s fine. I don’t want you to feel pressured to say it just because I did. I told you that because I do love you. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. I can’t force you to love me,” you tell him, smiling through it. He had to know it was a fake smile, just using it to hide how you really felt. “You still want to be with me, right?”

He hesitated for longer than he should have, even though his answer popped into this head immediately. “What? Of course I do. Can we just,” he takes a deep breath, trying to find his words, “Do you think we can watch something else?”

You nod, taking his hand and leading you back to your bed. You just fucked everything up, didn’t you? But Vince’s panic and now lack of attention to even the Netflix catalogue he was scrolling through was more worrisome than him not saying he loves you. “Actually,” you say, gently taking the remote from his hands, “Do you think we can talk about this? Like, I’m ok with it, but, I don’t know, you’re kind of worrying me.”

He can’t look at you, staring at the TV instead as the now muted screen flashed with characters he didn’t recognize. “I don’t know,” he lies. “The girls I was with before I met you kinda fucked me up I guess.” You could feel your heart breaking watching him like this, more so than when you watched Chuck and Blair. “I thought I was in love with them, but then it always ended with them using me for my money, because I play in the NHL, for sex. I mean, my purity score thing is so low for a reason, right?” he jokes, you trying to smile even though you could feel yourself wanting to cry. “Fuck, one of them even called Sammy because she liked him more while I was asleep in the bed next to her and asked him to go pick her up.”

You take his face in your hands, pulling him in for a kiss. Using the pads of your thumbs, you wipe away the tears that you got on him, unsure if they were just yours or if he had started crying, too. “I will never do that to you,” you assure him. “I’ll even call Sammy and tell him that you’re better.”

He laughs, sniffling a little bit. “Can you do that every day? Really wear down his self esteem.”

You laugh, giving him a quick kiss, happy that he was at least smiling again. “I’m not going to emotionally destroy a man.”

“But it’s Sammy!”

You, Nikki, and Patricia were sitting on Nikki’s couch together, each with one glass of wine for the night because of the need to drive later, pizza, popcorn, and much more junk food than you would like to admit. Dressed as if you hadn’t seen daylight in years, you all had on sweatpants, sweatshirts, hair tied back, makeup free, everything that would signal to an outsider that you had all stopped caring, but to you, it was just a night in after work. It was a much needed girls night, the stress of work getting to all of you while you sat there with your best friends trying to find something to watch. With the boys off on a road trip, you could definitely use the company. Part of you was bothered by Vince not saying he loves you, but could you really justifiably get upset but that?

“What are we watching?” Nikki asks, pulling up Netflix, practically forcing you to relive the conversation with Vince from the other night.

“Uh, Gilmore Girls?” Patricia suggests.

Without saying a word, Nikki plays the episode she left off on, Rory and Dean celebrating their anniversary together by going out to what was supposed to be a nice, sweet night.

“What do you think Connecticut is like?” Patricia asks about the setting of the iconic show.

“My ex in college was from Connecticut. Nothing good comes from Connecticut,” comes from Nikki, you barely hearing her as you fixate on the episode.

“Gilmore Girls comes from Connecticut.”

Without missing a beat, Nikki says, “One good thing comes from Connecticut.” The two of them keep talking, you barely hearing anything they say as you watch Dean and Rory in the car that Dean had built for her, telling her he loves her for the first time. Rory doesn’t say it back, the same expression on her face that you say on Vince’s that night. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” Nikki asks, snapping you away from the show.

“Oh, nothing, why?” you lie through your teeth, your best friends exchanging concerned looks.

“You know that you’re crying, right?” Patricia asks, snagging the remote and pausing the episode.

You reach up, feeling your now damp cheeks, wiping away the tears you didn’t even know were there that were brimming in your eyes. “Oh, wow,” you let out, laughing a little bit. “I guess the episode just got to me,” you lie again. Nikki sits there, eyebrow raised, lips pursed as if to say ‘bitch, please,’ while Patricia just sat there, waiting for you to answer. “I told Vince I love him,” you start.

You get cut off by the two of them screaming, “Oh my god!” and “What did he say?”

“He,” you sigh, debating on telling them the truth or not. “He panicked and couldn’t say it.”

Both of them gasp, you trying to figure out what emotions they felt; anger, sadness, disappointment, you swear all of it flashed on their face.

“Dump his ass!” Nikki yells, loud enough that her neighbors could probably hear her.

You take a handful of popcorn, throwing it at her in response, Patricia laughing and dodging the mess the two of you were creating as kernels flew past her face. “I’m not dumping him! He said he’s afraid of getting hurt,” you tell them once you stop throwing the food at each other.

“Does he think you’re going to hurt him?” Patricia asks, concern washing over her face.

“If he thinks that, you dump him,” Nikki pips in.

“You cut that out,” you fire back, pointing your finger at her. The ridiculousness of the simple action made all of you laugh, forgetting for a moment the conversation at hand.

“Do you really love him?” Patricia asks another question, both her and Nikki with the same expression on their faces.

You feel a soft smile growing on your face, nodding. “I really do. I’ve never loved anyone like I love him. Can we just talk about something else, please?”

They go back to talking about Connecticut, you trying to keep up with their banter.

“Wait, so why did you date that Connecticut boy?” you finally join the conversation, asking Nikki.

She shrugs, shoving the popcorn that was still in the bowl into her mouth. “Connecticut boys have money. I figured I could get some nice shit from him.”

“So you're a gold digger?” you tease her, Patricia nearly spitting out her wine.

Nikki sits there, mouth open pretending to be offended. “Talk about being a gold digger, you’re dating a professional athlete!”

You mirror her look, Patricia laughing as the innocent bystander in this. “Fuck,” is you can muster out before the three of you are laughing together.

“How could he not love that!” Nikki says once you catch your breath, pointing to the smile on your face and immediately making you turn red.

“Are you flirting with her?” Patricia asks

“Someone has too,” she shrugs, winking at you while sipping her wine.

You sit there, in awe of her bluntness. “If Vince were here he would get mad at you.”

“Where are they, anyway?” Patricia asks, changing the subject before Nikki can flirt with you more or make other snarky comments about your boyfriend.

“You see,” you start, setting down your glass of wine, “Vince told me they were going to California but when I checked the schedule it said they were going to play the Florida Panthers tomorrow,” you explain, all of you unable to contain your laughter, “so I think he’s confused.”

The three of you fall back into a rhythm that doesn’t involve talking about your boyfriend who was just about off your mind. After a few hours, you’re all yawning, the single glass of wine having no effect on you as you drowned out the alcohol with more water than anything so you could drive, Nikki kicking you out so she can go to sleep.

While you and Patricia are walking to your cars, your phone starts buzzing, an incoming Facetime call from Vince. You answer, immediately turning the camera away from you, “Hey, babe, I’m walking to my car.”

“And you’re not showing me yourself because you don’t want me to see the guy walking you there?” he jokes, smirking at the camera. He was in the bed in his hotel room, the white sheets pulled up just low enough that his chest was exposed, shirtless as he always was when he was ready to sleep. He knew what he was doing; showing just enough of himself that it would drive you crazy enough to be distracted.

“Yeah, this is the man,” you tease, panning over to Patricia getting into your car, “Say hi to Vince!”

“I’m stealing your girl!” she yells, ducking into her car and shutting her door, Vince’s laugh echoing in the air.

You prop your phone up in the thing your mom got you, suctioned to your dash so you can still see your phone while driving, even though you told her you had Apple CarPlay and had no need for it. Driving down the street, you fall into a mundane conversation with Vince about getting to Florida, teasing him for confusing it with California, telling him about the girls night you just had.

“Come on, show me your face!” you hear him whine. Without taking your eyes off the road, you know exactly the look on his face: those green eyes of his wide like a puppy, his bottom lip jutted out and if he weren’t holding his phone, his hands would be intertwined in themselves under his chin to show you he was begging.

“No, I look gross. My hair is tied back, I have no makeup on, and I’m in a groutfit.”

“Have you ever seen me?”

You roll your eyes, hitting the button to flip the camera now that you were at a red light. “Yes, I’ve seen you. You’re hot,” you say without shame.

“Fuck,” you hear him let out a long and low whisper. You roll your eyes at him, even though you can’t help but blush and smile at the way he was practically visibly drooling over you. “I didn’t know gross could be so beautiful.”

“I look like a Founding Father, shut up,” you say, glad it was dark enough that he couldn’t see the heat rushing to your cheeks.

He laughs again, making you smile even wider at the sound. “Who would have thought I would like sleeping with a Founding Father.”

“That is necrophilia!” you scream, loud enough that you could probably be heard outside your car, drowning out the sound of his laugher. “I never want to hear you say anything like that ever again!”

You pull up to your building, getting out and walking to your place while Vince rambles on about something that Sammy had done on the plane. “Oh!” he says once you unlock your door, startling you and almost dropping your phone, “Look what I got you!”

“You got me something?” you ask him, walking through your dark apartment into your room.

“I saw and I liked it and thought you would like it so I had to get it!” he says like a giddy child. He holds up a small stuffed puppy, shoving it almost too close to the camera, “Can you see the tag on his collar?”

He pulls it away slightly, the letter on it becoming clear. “His name is Vince!” you exclaim, the biggest smile on his face as he holds it next to him.

“Because you say when I get excited I remind you of a little puppy.” He sits there with the small stuffed animal pressed to his face, beaming at his purchase that he couldn’t wait to give you, even though he ruined the surprise he had anticipated because he couldn’t wait until he got home to see you. You take a screenshot, unable to hide how adorable you found him in that moment.

“I love it, Vince. I can’t wait for you to get home,” you say to him, a big yawn coming from him. His eyes get droopy, the way he gets before he’s about to fall asleep, a lazy smile on his face that means he felt the same.

You settle onto your bed, turning on your tv to watch whatever was on. You sit there in silence holding your phone, yawning a few times yourself. “Hey, babe, I’m gonna go to sleep,” you say, leaning over to turn off your lights, “I love you,” you say, forgetting that you're upset over his inability to say it back, seeing that he was already asleep, anyway, unable to return with a response.

III

You were swamped with work, having to hustle on a Saturday to get everything done. Vince was tired of being cooped up inside, only really going out when he had practice or a game, so he was the one to suggest going to the coffee shop half way between your apartments in order to just be somewhere that wasn’t the four walls of your apartments.

“You’re not working,” he says in a teasing voice, watching you sit there staring out the window at the people passing by.

“I just,” you sigh, “I don’t want to do this project.”

“Can I help?” he asks, getting up from his seat and standing behind you, just enough room between your chair and the wall for him to fit and lean against you. “You’re on Facebook.”

You look up at him, an innocent look on your face. “I’m using a rewards system!” you defend yourself. “I was working for half an hour, so I’m watching a video as a break.” You scroll back to the video you were just watching as he rests his hands on your shoulders, rubbing the slightly. You find the video of an artist with a bunch of metal strips, twisting them into a metal tree art piece. You turn to him, eyes wide with excitement, a huge smile on your face that he can’t help but roll his eyes at, mirroring your smile. “Isn’t it cool?”

“You’re acting like a child. That’s my job,” he says, kissing your cheek before going back to sit down.

“That just means you’ve rubbed off on me. Or maybe I’ve rubbed off on you?” you wonder, scrolling to find one more video to watch. The next video is scene from That 70’s Show, and old favorite of yours that you haven’t seen since it was taken off Netflix. Eric and Donna were in a car, probably the Vista Cruiser in one of the earlier seasons judging by how young they look. The captions on, your sound off, you read the scene instead of watching. It was Donna telling Eric she loved him, only for him to panic and respond with, “I love cake.” The smile on your face disappears, looking up at Vince and thankful that he was paying more attention to his phone than he was to you.

You just wanted him to say he loved you. You were sure that he did, and you had told him that you did. But he couldn’t say it. You were constantly going back and forth between being ok with it and being upset by it, knowing that it wasn’t fair to force him to say something if he didn’t mean it, but also knowing that it wasn’t fair to you to spill your guts to him for him to remain closed off.

You take a deep breath, switching back to the tab that had the new marketing pitch you were working on. You get to typing, focusing on the project while you see four other cursors working on different parts, occasionally switching to another section to check one of your partners' work while they do the same for you. You barely notice the people around you, the coffee shop practically packed to capacity as an afternoon rush came in. Vince would look up from his phone, stealing the occasional glance while you take no notice.

You both jump at the sound of someone knocking on the window next to you. Look up, Vince knew who it was immediately, irritated by your “Oh my god!” sqeual as you practically leap from the table to run outside.

Vince watches as you jump into the guys arms, a huge smile on your face, unable to read your lips as you talk with him. The guy was more attractive than Vince had remembered. Fuck, he looked like a model, and there Vince was, a hockey player, mad about it.

“How have you been?” you ask your friend Jack, someone you hadn’t seen in years.

“Pretty good,” he tells you, his arms lingering on your waist once you pull away from the hug you practically forced on him in the first place. “You?”

“Good, busy. Getting out with my boyfriend instead of acting like an old agoraphobic couple,” you tell him motioning to Vince sitting at the table, arms crossed over his chest. You both wave to him, Vince mirroring with a wave and a very unenthusiastic look. “Who’s apparently tired from practice,” you lie, hoping he would buy the explanation for Vince’s unexpected attitude.

“Isn’t he a hockey player?” You look back at Vince who’s now looking down at his phone, nodding, a soft smile on your face as you just stare at your dumb boyfriend. “You really have a thing for athletes, huh?”

You roll your eyes, knowing what he was referencing: Jack was technically your ex, having hooked up a few times, gone out on a few dates, he even brought you to a family wedding of his because you were seeing each other when the invitations went out, breaking up not long after the event. You never called him your boyfriend, and as far as you were concerned, you weren’t his girlfriend, but still, you weren’t just friends. “Hockey players are a little better than baseball players, bub,” you tell him, knowing it would hurt his ego a little bit.

He scrunches his face, pretending to be hurt but laughing anyway. “You always know how to hit a guy where it hurts, Y/L/N,” he tells you, both of you nodding. You were about to tell him goodbye, missing your chance when he says, “Do you think I could meet your new guy?”

You feel your breath stop for a moment, your eyes going wide at the thought of your ‘ex’ meeting your boyfriend. “Uh, sure, if you want to?” you tell him, obviously unsure of the situation that was about to unfold. “Vince?” you snap his attention away from his phone, the two of you standing over him. “This is my friend Jack. We went to school together,” you say, Jack extending his hand for Vince to shake.

Vince swallows hard, a wave of jealousy washing over him as this guy stands in front of him. “Nice to meet you,” he says, a cold tone in his voice. You shoot him a look, Jack taking your seat while Vince pulls you into his lap without you expecting it, planting a firm kiss on your lips. “So, Jack, what do you do?” he asks the guy sitting across from you, holding you tight around your waist as if he were marking his territory.

You look at your boyfriend, confused by why he was acting like this. He sends you a soft smile, his eyes flickering down to your lips, making you melt a little as you turn your attention back to Jack. “I work in marketing.”

“Oh, just like, my girl here.”

‘My girl?’ you mouth to yourself, unsure if either of the boys saw you.

“That’s how we met,” Jack starts, a little confused as well by Vince’s actions. “We were both marketing majors so we had all of the same classes.”

Vince keeps on asking Jack questions, practically leaving you out of the conversation, occasionally kissing your cheek while Jack was talking.

“Wow, you two are clearly in love with each other,” Jack points out, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Vince freezes, his heart racing against your chest as Jack gets up. “I’ve actually got to get going, but it was great seeing you, Y/N. We should catch up again.”

You nod, agreeing with him as he leaves, taking your seat back across from Vince, glaring at him. “What the hell was that?”

“What? I can’t kiss your cheek occasionally?” he scoffs, leaning back in his chair. You watch as he stares out the window, Jack still in his view.

“You never do it like that,” you point out. Then it dawns on you: “You were jealous! Why were you jealous?”

“I was not,” he pouts, his arms crossed.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” you squeal, careful not to be too loud in the quiet environment. His face turns red, his lips pursed as he stares out the window, clearly ready to deny it. You reach over to poke his cheeks, just to agitate him.

He swats you away, hating that you were right. “You think I’m cute?”

“Why were you jealous?” you ask again.

“You think I’m cute?” he says, leaning on the table.

You smirk at him, imitating his body language. “We both know I’m going to win this so you should just answer me now,” you say slowly.

“He’s the guy you dated in college,” Vince says.

“I never showed you his picture.”

He hesitates for a moment, knowing the exact reaction this was going to illicit: “I saw the pictures you posted with him on Instagram.”

You stop and think for a moment. The last time you even saw Jack was a few years ago. “Those pictures were from my freshman year of college. You’ve scrolled that far back on my page?”

He sticks out his bottom lip, eyes wide to give you his puppy dog face. “Sometimes, when I miss you, and I know you’re busy and can’t talk, I scroll through your Instagram so I can see your face.”

You feel yourself melting at his words, the face he was giving you making you love him that much more. “Come here,” you tell him, pulling him up around the table. You take him by the collar down to your level, giving him a sweet kiss. “And, yes, I do think you’re really cute,” you say to him, kissing him again.

Vince watched in awe at his teammates. All of them were drunk, him, for once, being the most sober one around as they entered the bye week that took place around All-Star Weekend. He was waiting for you to show up, anxiously checking his phone to see if you had texted him anything saying that you and Patricia were at the bar. He hated being the only sober one, especially since it meant he would have to play dad if something happened unless you two showed up soon.

“You’re not drinking?” Sammy asks him, two beers in hand. Someone would think one was for Vince, but, no, both were for Sammy as he put the openings of both bottles in his mouth at once.

“I’m waiting for Y/N.”

“You’re whipped!” Sammy slurs, sitting down next to his friend in the booth he was refusing to get up from while he anxiously shakes his leg waiting to see you, rolling his eyes even though part of him knew he was right.

“Stop that,” Vince says, getting up and trying to shake his friend off in the crowded bar.

“You love her, right? I mean you have to love her to be like this,” Sammy insists, something he wouldn’t be doing had he not been drunk. Vince opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted. “Dude.”

“You know I can’t say it,” is all Vince can let out. Sammy knows his past, Sammy knows what has happened to Vince. Saying it would mess something up. Those eight letters would ruin what he had with you when they were out in the open.

“I don’t know how to talk about this with you,” Sammy admits, eyes narrow since he was thinking about it anyway.

“I don’t think I want to talk about this with you.”

Before Sammy can say anything else, like magic, you appear at his side, Patricia in tow. “Hey,” you say to him, kissing him as he wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls away, looking over your shoulder to see Sammy making faces at the two of you, Vince giving him a look that told him to go away without you noticing.

Patricia wanders off with Sammy, leaving the two of you by yourselves. “How far deep are they?” you ask, dragging him to the bar so the two of you could start drinking, knowing you couldn’t drink so much that you would catch up with them, but enough that you wouldn’t have to act as the mother of the group.

“We’ve been here for an hour so I expect someone to be throwing up soon,” he laughs, not dropping your hand when the two of you sit down.

“If you’re drunk, do you have to take care of them?” you ask him, signalling to the bartender to come take your drink orders. You fall into conversation, watching Sammy strike out with multiple girls, Patricia spending the entire night with a single guy following her, something she clearly enjoyed as she milked at least four free drinks out of him.

“Think she’ll go home with him?” Vince asks, nodding over to Patricia as he finishes what might have been this third drink that night. As far as he knew, no one was throwing up, but now, he didn’t have to worry about it if he was just a little drunk.

You shrug, putting down your now empty glass. “If they both want that I guess.” You could feel yourself getting bored and tired, wishing that you and Vince could just leave and go home yourselves. But he looked like he was having fun watching the guys, a smile on his face whenever they did something stupid. You study Vinces face, his slightly pursed lips and his eyes sparkling as he watched Sammy strike out with what was probably his fourth girl of the night, Vince smiling as he couldn’t help but laugh at his friend. Your attentioned is pulled away by your phone buzzing in your hand, Nikki bombarding you with texts.

‘Have Vince watch these with you ;)’

She sends you two clips, both from a Halloween episode of New Girl. Unfamiliar with the show, you tap Vince to have him watch over your shoulder. You watch the two girls get into a limo, one going as far as exclaiming, “Hey, look! I’m in a limo! I wish I could have really long legs so I could stretch them out the length of the limo!”

The camera switches to a guy, telling them to have fun, saying, “I love you,” an immediate look of regret washing over his face, the girl in the limo responding with finger guns while her friend behind her mouthed, ‘No.’

You swallow hard, texting Nikki back yelling at her for it, definitely partially a product of the alcohol. You don’t even bother to look at the second video, afraid of what it would be and what it would bring considering the first one brought an awkward silence in the middle of the loud bar.

“Did you tell them?” he asks quietly, sitting back down next to you.

You straighten your posture, forming a thin line with your lips. “Yeah. I did. It was bothering me more than I thought it would and they figured it out.”

“How would they figure it out?” he snaps, his voice a little louder than it would have been had he not had so much to drink. “That’s not something you can just read on someone’s face.”

You take in a deep breath, knowing that people were starting to turn to look at the fight you were about to have. “Come on,” you grab him by his arm, leading him outside so at least if you started really fighting, they couldn’t kick you out. “Look, we were watching something where someone said I love you and the other person didn’t and I started crying,” you explain to him, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.

The people around you in the city were staring as they walked by, two idiots on a weird night causing a scene in a public. “Y/N,” he says, taking a step towards you and reaching for your hand.

You snatch it away, startling him that you were so quick. “No, Vince. I know I said it was fine,” you sob, “But it hurts. It hurts to love someone who doesn’t love you back. And I know you’ve been hurt before, but you’re letting that get in the way of you and me, and I don’t know how much longer I can handle being in love with you when you won’t even say you love me.”

He drops his head down, tears falling down his face while you were trying to fight your own from falling. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry for being afraid, but I am.”

“Do you love me?” you ask him, taking a step towards him.

He looks up at you, both of you crying. His eyes are red, he looks like he’s in pain. He tries to say something, only to shake his head, taking you in for a hug before either of you can do anything else. You can feel him crying in your shoulder, one hand in your hair, the other at the top of your back. You stand there for a moment in shock, not sure how to react. You react into his hold, trying to calm him down. You had never seen him cry like this before, in fact, you weren’t sure you had ever seen him cry at all. You pull his head off your shoulder. His face soaked with tears. “I think you need to go home,” you tell him, wiping the tears from his face.

He doesn’t say anything, just pulling you in for another hug when the guys and Patricia stumble out of the bar. “Hey, we’re going to go to another bar,” Patricia tells you as you shake your head, signalling that she shouldn’t ask what was going on. “Do you guys want to come?”

“We can?” Vince questions, only looking at you, his face still red from the sobbing he had just done. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“You go with them. I’ll be fine, I want to go home anyway,” you insist, trying to push him off you. If there was one thing you hated, it was the kind of girls who made their boyfriends miss out on things with their friends because they insisted on attention, but you also didn’t want to be with him at this moment.

He smiles at you as you try to force yourself to not succumb to his looks, refusing to let go of you, “It’s not worth going with them if you aren’t going to be there with me.”

“Then don’t go. I’m going home.” You break free of his grip, turning on your heels and walking down the street to go home by yourself.

+one

“Dude, have you seen Nikki’s snapstory?” Sammy’s voice comes through Vince’s phone.

“No, why?”

The concern in Sammy’s voice resonated with Vince, “I think you need to go look.”

Vince puts his teammate on speaker to go find one of your best friend’s story. “I’m looking now, hold on.”

Nikki was in her car, a picture of your favorite flowers in front of her steering wheel, your apartment building in the background. She had captioned it with ‘Bought my best friend flowers to go tell her I love her because her boyfriend won’t say it.’

“Ah, fuck,” Vince mutters, closing out the app.

“What are you gonna do about this?”

“I gotta go,” he says, hanging up before Sammy can say anything else.

-------

You run to the door when you hear the knocking, hoping it was Vince since you hadn’t heard much from him since that night at the bar. Instead, you find Nikki standing in your doorway with your favorite flowers. “What are these?” you deadpan, still a little irritated with her.

“Vince won’t say I love you so I figured I would,” she tells you, kissing you on the cheek and brushing past you. “I love you!” she says, dramatically, plopping down on your couch and putting her feet on your coffee table.

You look at the flowers, biting your lip. You just wanted Vince to say it. But you get it. “They’re just eight letters. He doesn’t have to say it when he can just show it. And you sending that video the other night does not and will not help anything,” you scold her.

You hear her scoff as you go to put the flowers in some water. “You know I was right to send that video. How does he show you he loves you? How could he possibly tell you he loves you without saying ‘I love you?’”

Rolling your eyes, knowing that she’s seen him show you loves you plenty of times. You could either argue with her more over what she did, or just list the ways you knew she was already aware of. “He always makes sure I’m the last person he sends a text to or calls at night and the first person he does that with in the morning. Even if he wakes up in the middle of the night and answers someone else, he’ll still send me another text right after. He’ll give me his pickle whenever he gets them because he knows I love them, even though he does, too. If he sees something on the road that he thinks I’ll like he gets it for me to surprise me with when he comes home.” You can feel yourself starting to cry thinking of all the way Vince has shown he loves you. But you really just wanted to hear those three words. You just wanted that verbal confirmation from him.

“I mean, babe, that’s great, but if he really meant it, wouldn’t he say it?”

You join her on the couch, trying to figure out how to answer. “Not everyone is good with expressing their emotions with words,” you shrug, unable to look at whatever expression she had on her face. “He’s been hurt before, when he’s told a girl that he loved her. I understand why he wouldn’t want to flat out say it to me.”

You get up, going back to your kitchen to at least fake the need for a glass of water. “Well, what else does he do?” you hear Nikki call over the sound of your tap.

You swallow, unsure if listing the ways was making you happy or sad. “He asks me to call him when I get home so he knows I’m safe. He’ll snapchat me funny faces when I’m sad because he wants to see me smile. He’ll even leave the guys if I’m upset and stay on Facetime with me until I’m happy. When we’re in the car he has my playlist on because he wants to listen to my music because it makes me happy. He doesn’t have to tell me he loves me.”

“Yes he does,” you hear from the other room, a voice that wasn’t Nikki’s. You see Vince standing there, bags in hand, Nikki slinking away into the other room to give you privacy.

“Hey, babe, what are you doing here?” you ask him, giving him a kiss for the first time in what felt like forever, trying to take the bags from him when he pulls away. The two of you walk over to your couch, setting the bags down and hearing clinking from inside. “Can I look inside?”

“No, not yet,” he stops you, taking your hands in his to prevent you from reaching in. “I’ll get everything out. Just, just trust me.” He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. “I told you I couldn’t say...it because of the girls I’ve said it to before. And god, I’m the worst for not saying it. But you deserve so much more.”

“Vince, what are you talking about? I don’t need mo-”

He cuts you off, handing you the first thing in the bag. A bottle of your favorite wine, a note taped to it. “You’re my partner in wine,” you read out to him, laughing at the goofy grin on his face telling you that he was proud of himself.

A bag of your favorite coffee grounds is placed in your hands next. “Words can not espresso how much you bean to me.”

A can of your favorite soup. “I ‘canned’ live without you.”

A snack pack of pudding. “Thanks for pudding up with me.”

There was food item after food item with a note taped to it with a different pun revolving around what he thought about you. He went to the grocery store for all your favorites, handing them to you one by one until he gave you the last item in the bags: a bar of your favorite cheese. “Sorry about being so cheesy.”

You look at him, seeing the embarrassed look on his face. His cheeks were red, unable to make eye contact with you but smiling anyway. “Well, now I don’t have to go grocery shopping,” you joke, him laughing along with you, “Vince, I love this.”

“And I love you.”

You can’t help the smile on your face, staring into his green eyes as his expression mirrors yours. “Really? I mean, I knew,” you explain, “But I didn’t think you’d say it. Why now?”

He smiles at you, taking your hands in his. “Because Nikki shouldn’t have to tell you she loves you because I can’t.”

“You’re welcome!” you hear Nikki yell from your room, both of you laughing.

“Oh my god,” he lets out at her obvious eavesdropping, his eyes closed, biting his bottom lip. “It’s not fair to you that you told me how you felt and I couldn’t tell you how I really felt.”

“Vince, you don’t have to apologize,” you try to tell him.

“No, no. I do,” he says, dropping your hands and cupping your face. His thumb traces along your cheekbones as he keeps going. “I chose shitty girls before you, and them hurting me ending up hurting you. I love you, and it shouldn’t have taken me so long to say it. You’re the only one I’ve ever really loved.” He pulls you in for a kiss, soft and sweet.

“I love you, too.”

#vince dunn #vince dunn imagines #dunner #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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twerkinwithhazza · 4 years

Text

Pumpkin Seeds

Author’s Note: UH OHHH BACK AGAIN. I’m back yall finally off hiatus all because my phone is broken LOL. Anywho tumblr is a totally different place and most of my mutuals are adulting now. I would love new tumblr friends and I’m gonna try to continue this writing stuff but I’m busy with adult things now lol and it really depends on if you guys like what you see. Please excuse my rustiness this my first imagine in years... literally. I’ll get better with time. This was also slightly edited but I know there bound to be some mistakes. Anyways watch the Golden music video for clear skin and I hope you guys enjoy! I think it's so adorable that whoever requested this thought this request wouldn't speak to me lol ! It definitely did because this went from a blurb to a full blown imagine.

psst you can read my other work here!

Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut and possible shitty writing, dirty talk, light choking, and some cursing.

Glossary: (y/c/n)= your cousins name + (y/m/n)= your mothers name

Request: hi!!!! if you are wrtiting for Harry please can you do one where missus and Harry are at a family party and have a quickie in the bathroom? don’t worry if it’s not speaking to you lol xxx

Normally you and your husband loved spending time with your families. Harry was always playing a balancing act between filming music videos, doing interviews, writing sessions, and an occasional date night in the house that always involved a Postmates order from your favorite restaurants and the two of you binge-watching Netflix on shuffle. As much as the both of you enjoyed stuffing your face with poke bowls from Poke Papa and watching True Crime stories, it wasn’t exactly romantic or fulfilling for the both of you, just enough to hold you over until his schedule clears up. So when Harry finally got a weekend off, you guys were ecstatic! You spent the week cleaning the house and meal prepping so no Postmates would be needed and Harry used his free time in between interviews for shopping for special toys and pretty lingerie he wanted to see you model for him. Flirty text messages were sent back and forth during small work breaks about your plans for the weekend and now all the two of you had to do was make it Saturday.

You’re not gonna like this...

The 5 words that destroyed you and Harry’s weekend plans. Anne called while you were organizing your closet and announced that her and Gemma, along with your parents and favorite cousins were coming to town to spend time with the two of you. You tried to convince her that maybe a small dinner party at that new fancy restaurant downtown would be a perfect spot for a get together but she was adamant about coming over to cook the two of you a homecooked meal. Breaking the news to Harry was the worst part, he was clearly devastated (you swore you saw the man shed a few tears). Now here you were stuffing your mouth with Anne’s famous juicy cooked duck instead of your husband's juicy di...

“(Y/N) can you pass me the mashed potatoes”

Your dad’s strong yet muffled voice interrupted your train of thought and broke you out of your horny trance as he chowed down on his meal. Pushing the dish over in your dad's direction allowed you the chance to look around and take a glance at Harry who was making small talk with one of your favorite cousins. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, of course with a few buttons loose, and his cross necklace bounced on his chest as he laughed at your cousin's crazy work stories. You focused on his fingers, his infamous rings adorned his hands, you noted that they were slightly damp from eating and the condensation on his glass cup. As you were drinking in his appearance a small damp spot was forming in your panties but given that there were too many eyewitnesses including, yours and his parents so you chose to just clamp your thighs shut and stuff your mouth with more mashed potatoes.

Harry deserved his credit as a husband. Despite his calm demeanor, he was very well aware of your little ordeal yet still managed to give interview advice to (y/c/n) and compliment your mom’s cocktail mix. He was quite amused by how increasingly frustrated you were becoming. He noted your concentrated face as you munched harshly on a string bean, hands clenching onto the fork for dear life. He decided to do a little temperature check to truly see how far gone you were.

“So what are we thinking for dessert pecan pie or crumble cake ?”, Harry questioned as he stuck his fork in his mouth, pulling it out again once all the gravy was licked clean. Your eyes finally met and you can tell that he was tossing the ball in your court, it was your job to show him how you wanted the game to be played.

“Mmm I don’t know I guess I’ll have some pecan pie but I really wish I had some pumpkin seeds”, you flatly said as you finished sipping your wine, maintaining full eye contact with him.

Pumpkin seeds. You and Harry were “outside of the box” thinkers, you had to be with his life as a celebrity not exactly pairing well with your shared sexual fantasies. You had code words to indicate to each other when you were craving the other one's touch, but you knew that using the same words around friends, family, and other public figures for too long would possibly cause some suspicion. So your code words changed with the seasons, literally. When the leaves started turning that classic golden yellow and auburn, your code words changed thus came the use of the word Pumpkin Seeds.

Gemma and your mom shared a glance, raising their eyebrows in collective confusion.

“Pumpkin seeds.. For dessert ?” Gemma finally burst out., both of your mothers soft laughter followed in the background.

“Heyyy” ,Harry pouted as he bopped Gemma on the nose with some gravy ,“ I have you know Pumpkin Seeds are one of our favorite midnight snacks”.

“Gross“, Gemma stuck out her tongue and wiped her nose. You couldn't tell whether she was referring to the gravy on her nose, your choice of midnight snacks, Harry’s smug statement followed by a wink at you, or a combination of all three.

“Well we can be concerned with dessert once we break out the baby pictures, I’ve been dying to see the infamous skinny dipping picture (y/m/n) has been telling me about”. Anne clapped her hands together and hopped out of her seat heading to the kitchen. Your mother followed behind but not before instructing you to head up to the attic to retrieve the pictures. You glanced at Harry but he seemed occupied cleaning up the dinner plates with your dad. You let out a frustrated huff and made your way up to the attic to grab the photo albums.

As you shuffled through old boxes holding Harry’s old tour outfits and your little knickknacks from your travels, you heard the attic door open.

“Pumpkin seeds huh?”, Harry lightly chuckled letting the attic door close and leaning against the door frame.

You refused to make eye contact with him, continuing to shuffle through the bins locating a few photo albums as you went , “It was only a matter of time Harry and you know it. Our weekend got stolen and we haven’t... ya know in like two weeks. So, yes Harry I want some damn pumpkin seeds.”

You let out a huff. You didn’t mean to come off so sassy and aggressive but you were frustrated… sexually. Your cousin was getting more Harry time in the 3 hour family dinner than you had gotten in the past two weeks. You stacked the photo albums gently on top of each other and cradled them in your arms, finally turning to face your husband but you didn't have to look very far. Harry had closed that gap between the two of you, gripping your face and making you look up at him causing you to drop the albums in shock.

“Well let’s get you your pumpkin seeds then”

That’s all it took and sparks turned into a flame, you and Harry��s bodies connected and a feverish makeout session broke out. You both were so hungry for each other after weeks of neglects and it just felt so damn good to finally connect. Harry’s wet kisses were making their way down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. You knew he was getting into it and normally you would be completely here for it if your kitchen wasn’t flooded with family members waiting to laugh at your baby pictures.

“Baby.. we… fuckkkkk”, You moaned out as Harry popped one of your nipples out of his mouth before moving to nip on the next one. “Baby we can’t your mom is downstairs… we have to go”, you finally let out and glanced down at your husband as pinched your nipples between his finger tips. “When has that ever stopped us”, he slyly laughs. In one swift motion, he turned you around pulling your back into his chest pulling down your skirt. You couldn’t even get words of protest out, Harry had his hands wrapped around your neck and was already freeing himself from his pants and boxers. He pulled your panties to the side and let out a hiss as he watched a string of your arousal stretch from your dripping flower to his fingers.

“Baby please just do something”, you huffed out a soft moan as you waited in anticipation. The grip around your throat tightened as he entered you, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. Harry completely bottomed out inside of you, touching that special spot that only he could. Your walls clenched around him, holding him in snug almost as if your pussy was begging him not to leave. Normally the two you were very vocal during sex from dirty talk to his loud moans and your even louder cries of pleasure. However you both knew that wasn’t possible right now and kept your moans down as much as you could. Harry was not making it easy though and the noise coming from the two of your bodies colliding were basty in the best ways possible. With every thrust of Harry’s hip you could hear your wetness coating Harry dick and as Harry picked up the speed his balls roughly tapped on your clit, only adding to your pleasure. You could barely form thoughts let alone sentence, Harry was literally fucking you silly and using your G-Spot as punching bag for his dick, The sounds and the pleasure were clearly getting to Harry as well, the grip he had on your hips grew tighter and his eyes were squeezed shut.

“Bloody fucking hell you’re so tight around me, can’t even take it”, he groans and throws his head back as he roughly draws your hips into his. It didn’t even feel like it was possible but Harry picked up the speed of his thrust continuing the assault on your poor needy pussy even further. The pleasure was all too much and that oh so familiar feeling hit the pit of your stomach and you were starting to lose your composure. Your moans were getting increasingly louder and your grip on Harry was growing tighter. Harry knew his wife and he knew your dam was getting closer and closer to breaking and he was determined to get you there. He placed a hand over your mouth and moved his other hands down to your clit rubbing it in slow circles. “ Look at you” he cooed cockily, “Taking me so fucking well like a good girl should. Barely let out a scream ‘cus you don’t want your parents to hear how much of a cock whore you are”. He knew you wouldn’t last long with the way he was talking to you and he was absolutely correct because his words were driving you insane. As the pressure was continued building up in your stomach, you felt the telling twitch in Harry’s dick that let you know he was approaching his end too.

“Gonna give me what I want uh? Gonna cum all over my cock and let me cum in that tight little pussy of yours. You gotta hold it in.. don’t want to leave any drops for our guest to find huh? Gonna be a good girl and hold all my cum in you?”, Harry grunted into your ear as you whimpered against his hands. You were seeing stars and feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach and you knew it was only a matter of time before you both came undone.” Oh baby”, you whined and your head fell down as the pressure from your stomach finally was released as your orgasm spilled out all over Harry’s dick and thighs. The gushing feeling from your orgasm and your weak whimpers and cries drove Harry overboard, burying his face in your neck and his roughly groaning as he released inside of you. The two of you stayed connected for a bit, thighs stuck together thanks to your shared orgasm with Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist supporting both of your weights up as you composed yourselves. When he finally pulled out of you, you kept every drop he gave you tucked inside your tight walls just as promised.

“So those Pumpkin Seeds huh”

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