#i spent ages on it then gave up and just filled in the blanks
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The (un)expected Thanksgiving
Pairing: Ran Haitani x fem!reader
Since Im going through my Haitani brothers brainrot, especially Ran Haitani, here's a fic for all the Haitani lovers like me HAHA.
Age ranges of the characters are majorly in 20s.
Ran is 24, while you and Rindou are 23.
PS: this is a female reader based fanfic. Majorly a crackfic
Inspired from the series 'THE BIG BANG THEORY' (7x09) The thanksgiving Decoupling.
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"I dont get it. Why am i being bullied here?"
"Just because i said so"
"Thats bullshit."
"Ran, be nice."
You three were preparing for the thanksgiving party at the Haitani brothers' place, since they insisted that they were the best and better party throwers than anyone in the whole of Toman, leading you to prepping up the food, you forcefully making Ran's lazy ass help you, while Rindou played a video game after helping to clean the house.
Currently the argument was being held between the brothers on Ran warning Rindou on beating him up if Ran's fell asleep and was disturbed by the others in the party, leading to the younger sibling defend himself back and you scolding your boyfriend on bullying his younger brother.
"Now i know how the Korean slaves felt in Japan..."
You gave him a deadpan offended look, eyebrow raised and staring at him, as he was sat like a grumpy cat busy playing his game. Your boyfriend snorted, making you kick his feet to shut him up.
"Are you seriously comparing you two's sibling fight to one of the greatest Japanese Korean tragedies?" You asked.
"Yes." Rindou grunted, shrugging his shoulders as if its the most obvious thing in the world, making you roll your eyes.
"Im surprised you guys even know that considering you two's level of education" you retorted, making offended gasps come out from the two brothers, "Hey watch your mouth, Im the eldest here. You dont back answer me. Ill kick your ass." Ran threatened playfully as he twirled a knife and pointed towards you jokingly, making you give him a 'sure' look.
"Rindou, ignore your brother, you know you can spend a nice thanksgiving anywhere, I spent one in Roppongi anyway, before i was dating Ran." you said, as you walked towards the living room couch.
"You did?" Ran asked, following me with a opened desert cup.
"Yea, back when i was dating my ex Kenji. It was really fun, we visited casinos, cheesy wedding chapels, roamed around malls, got drunk and explored the night life, and also almost landed up in a strip club, which was of course surprising as hell." you chuckled, unknown towards Ran being taken aback midway eating his desert, looking at Rindou, who had confused eyes darting towards his brother's, his attention completely off the game, as the brothers' exchanged confused glances between each other.
"Wait you went to chapel?" Ran asked.
"Yea." you chuckled, as you continued to apply spread on my sandwich.
"Why?" He continued.
"We had one of those silly fake wedding haha" you chuckled, thinking of it as a funny memory, while Ran's eyes squinted at you, visibly taken aback, as Rindou now removed the headphones from his ears and onto his shoulders, glancing between you two and seeing the interaction in confusion.
"(NAME)," Ran started, now his desert kept on his lap, as squinted his eyes at her, "You know those are real, right?"
"Huh no they're not." you scoffed, assuming he was joking, as you continued to giggle and eat your sandwich.
"Baby...Rindou and I have been ruling Roppongi since we were 13...we know it inside out...Trust me, they are real." Ran responded, as now slowly set down his unfinished desert.
You slowed your chewing, your eyes blanking out, seeing that your boyfriend was indeed serious unlike his usual demeanour, as despair and nervousness slowly filled inside your body, "No..they're not" Your voice slightly quivered, as you looked at Rindou for backup, but instead was returned with the same confused nervous look as Ran's.
"Yea they are." Ran responded.
"He's right, they're real." Rindou confirmed.
You sat there nervous, as you started fidgeting with your sandwich, "B-But it didnt seem real..." You muttered, your voice whimpering, as you looked at both of them, as if trying to convince them and even yourself. You three exchanged glances between each other, but majorly you looking at Ran as he looked at you, this time his eyes widened and his mouth slightly agape.
"Son of a bitch" you both cursed under your breaths.
--- TIMSKIP 2 HOURS LATER---
It was almost time for your friends to arrive, as you guys were busy doing last minute preparations.
"I cant fucking believe you're married to that idiot." Ran muttered, as he aggressively continued to set up the tables with loud thuds.
You sighed as you were busy setting up the pillows and cushions of the living room sofa, "Would you stop it? we just did it as a goof."
"Goof or not, you two are actually married. you need to get this taken care of, or Ill handle it myself." Ran gritted, as he put down the nachos bowl with a 'thud'.
"I will. Why are you making it such a big deal?" you gritted as you finished dusting off the couches and bean bag.
"Oh i have a reason," Rindou spoke out as he was casually setting up the DJ system, "It could be because you said yes to marrying Kenji, but made Ran chase you till the end of the Earth as you showered him with resounding 'no's and making one of the kings' of Roppongi's ego hurt." Rindou didnt look up, as he was amused by the situation and the argument happening between you two, making him snort mentally at the kind of problem it is.
You and Ran both glared at Rindou, as he hummed and tested out his new tracks.
You sighed as you now stood in the middle of the living room frustrated, your hands placed at your hips. "So how do i undo this?"
"Im hoping you can get an annulment cuz it never happened." Ran replied.
"Great. Well what do i have to do?"
"Ran looked into his phone, searching for solutions when he spoke up, "It says here that you can get an annulment, if any of the following conditions are met. 1. Were you unable to consummate the marriage? Hah you? Next." Ran mocked, as you rolled your eyes and glared at him.
"Is there any case of fraud, bigamy, want of understanding-"
"Want of understanding? What does that even mean?" you asked before being interrupted by the younger brother.
"Ding ding ding we have a winner" Ran cheered, mocking you, making you roll your eyes for the third time in the span of few hours, rubbing your eyes in frustration at the nonsense.
---
Soon your friends of Toman started coming in, as you guys greeted them as everyone started settling in and started mingling and partying.
You were talking with Shion and Mochi, "Hey thanks for coming in. Here's the bottle you wanted to taste." you replied with a bland and strained tone, making the two question.
"Whats with you?" Mochi asked, when Ran appeared and answered immediately, "Oh she's just mad at me because she just found out that she was married to her ex." Ran replied with a strained forced smile, looking at you the whole time, his hands inside his pockets.
"Really that dumbass you used to date? Tha-ts hysterical" Shion started laughing at the end midsentence, making you glare at him. "I cant believe i felt bad for opening this earlier." I said, before snatching the bottle from Mochi's hands and walking away. Mochi glared at Shion as the latter pursed his lips, "Congratulations you played yourself." "Shut up."
Soon enough the party started, along with everyone starting to realise the tension between you and Ran, as you told everyone not to worry about it Rindou coughing in the background.
Hinata, Takemichi, Draken, Emma, Mikey, Baji and Kazutora were hanging out in the kitchen going through the food stuff, when Senju barged out of nowhere, "Guys you wont believe what i just heard."
"What?" Hinata asked. "Im pretty sure she has some random bullshit to spout out" Baji joked, giving a high five to Mikey and Draken, as Senju rolled her eyes, giving him the middle finger.
"First off, fuck you Baji. Second off, did you guys know that (NAME) was married to her ex Kenji two years ago?"
"WHAT?" Everyone in the kitchen exclaimed, as they turned their heads towards a smug Senju, some of the people's mouth full mid bite (Mikey and his dorayaki).
"Yea. thats the reason why we were uncomfortable with the tension between (NAME) and Ran."
Yuzuha came running in, before spotting Senju and visibly deflating, "You told everyone here already didnt you?"
---
As you were sitting with the girls that is Emma, Hinata, Senju and Yuzuha, talking about the situation as they had confronted you about it, when Ran came out of his bedroom, walking towards you, reading into his phone, "Ok ive readied the annulment papers, all that needs to be done is for you and that dumbass to sign it. Understood?"
"Yea."
"Oh and do it soon as possible will ya?"
"I fucking get it Ran, can you stop bothering me about this?" you gritted as you stood up and started walking towards his room.
"How the hell am i bothering you, when im just trying to get your ass out of this stupid mess?" Ran gritted back, as he stared at your back.
---
"How am i the bad guy? She's the one who married someone else. Im the victim." Ran ranted, as Rindou, Sanzu, Izana, Kakucho and Mochi sat on the couches drinking and watching the game on the TV"
"Sounds like Kenji's the victim. You're sleeping with his wife." Sanzu retorted making the other men snort.
"Okay i see what your problem is...Can i weigh in here?" Izana asked, making Ran shrug.
"Im trying to watch the game here, shut up."Izana retorted with a blank face before turning towards the TV, making the others finally burst out in laughter, as the braided male rolled his eyes in annoyance.
Just the you entered, walking towards your boyfriend, "Well, you'd be happy to know that i just spoke with Kenji, and he's willing to sign the papers." Ran nodded, making his way towards to you, both of you peeking in your phone together. "He's on his way here now." You said, making Ran look up at you with an incredulous look, "Wait, you invited him here?" Ran asked, slightly raising his tone.
"Im getting ready to weigh in here again." Izana called out, not turning his eyes off the TV, making Ran roll his eyes, before pulling you towards a quieter corner.
You both were at a quieter corner near the kitchen, arguing,
"I just don't understand why you had to invite him here today??"
"Because you wouldnt shut up about it. and when I called him, he had nothing to do so I just thought-"
"Hey guys" Kokonoi spoke up from behind the kitchen counter, "We're kind of talking here."
"Oh sorry we'll keep it down." you said apologetically, again turning towards Ran, but being interrupted again, "Oh no no, speak up."
Ran and you looked at him confused, before looking at Inui, Kisaki and Hanma behind him, the three males waving at you. "We are kinda bit further from you two's talking range, and we dont wanna miss anything." Kokonoi shrugged, making your mouth agape, squinting at their audacity before looking at Ran, who had an annoyed look.
"Well get ready to invite one more, because she invited Kenji over here right now." Ran said, before a loud 'WHAT' was heard.
Mitsuya slapped Peh's mouth shut, while Pah turned him around, alongside Mikey, Draken, Baji, Kazutora, who were pretending to look into some other directions, whistling some random notes and observing the surroundings.
---
After Half an hour, when the doorbell rang, every single person scrambled, waiting for the next moments of what was about to come.
---
"Well, here are the papers, you just gotta sign in here." Ran said, as he put forth the papers across the table, as you and Kenji stood across each other.
"Sorry I made you come over here on a holiday" you apologised, as you stood patiently at your side.
"Its alright." Kenji said, "I didnt have anything going on, plus, (NAME) told me we were married, and thanksgiving is the time to be with family." Kenji said with a wide tooth smile. If looks could kill, Kenji wouldve been tortured to death by the way Ran glared at him, while you blankly looked at your dumb ex. "Yea okay great, Can we just get this over with?" You said, as you took the pen and signed the papers.
"Great, by a few days, this marriage will be over, and you both can go seperate ways." Ran said, as you held the pen towards Kenji to sign it, "Here."
Kenji hummed before speaking up, "I dont know if i wanna sign these papers."
Everone 'oooed', as you both ignored the voices. You glared at Kenji with a 'are you serious look' while Ran had red in his eyes, "Why not?" Ran said, his voice raising, restraining himself to not beat the shit out of him.
"Because i think splitting up would be rough on the kids." Kenji said, making you two look at him with dumbfounded looks. "
"We don't have any kids" You say, "Are you sure, cuz you didnt know we were married until this morning." Kenji said, making Ran look towards you, smacking his lips and squinting his eyes, giving you the 'he's got a point' look, making you roll your eyes.
"Okay Kenji, you know neither of us thought this was real, i mean we were married by an anime character impersonater."
"Of course it was an Anime character impersonater. we could never afford a real one."
You looked at him with your eyes squinted and dumbfounded look, while Ran rubbed his hand over his face, "You married him instead of me? Yeah good call." Ran said, taking the pen from your hands and pointing it towards Kenji , "Sign the damn papers."
"Hang on" You said, pointing your hand towards Ran, "You know you've been a jerk about this all day. You always do this. Whenever i mess something up, you're right there to make me feel worse about it."
"That is not true." Ran argued.
"You know we couldve waited till Monday, signed the papers, and this wouldve all been over."
"You're the one who invited him here."
"Oh there we go again. Just another mistake you're throwing at my face."
"Not cool bro." Kenji said, poking Ran's shoulder with the pen, as Ran squinted at him annoyed and irritated. "Im starting to think you're not the guy i want dating my wife."
You held Ran's one hand back, not to let him physically strangle Kenji in front of the others.
Ran took a deep breath, before speaking up, "Yea, well she's not gonna be your wife for long."
"Oh no are you dying?"
Ran looked at the ceiling, while you closed your eyes in frustration, still holding Ran's one hand to calm him down.
"Im about to. Sign the damn papers." you said.
Kenji signed the papers as he happily said, "You know what they say, Happy wife..Happy life." He put the pen down on the table as he grinned and looked towards you both, while Ran gave him a sideye, his both hands on the table, while you took a deep breath.
---------
Soon the party ended, as everyone bid goodbyes. Finally only you, Ran and Rindou were left. Rindou went to his room, while you and Ran sat beside each other on the couch, watching TV, and eating ice cream.
You sighed, as you slid an arm underneath his, "Hey, i'm sorry about today. And i promise that the next time i get married, it wont be a joke. It'll be for love. Or money." i said nodding my head, before giving him kisses on his cheeks and his lips before resting my head on his shoulders, as Ran snorted on your words. He then moved his hands to wrap around you, as he then retorted, "Its a win win for me, since i qualify for both", making you chuckle, as you both continued to cuddle and watch TV and eating the tub of ice cream.
#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo rev x you#sanzu x reader#ran x reader#rindou haitani x reader#ran haitani x reader#tokyo rev fluff#bonten x reader#tokyo revengers ran#tokrev crack#tokrev x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyorev x reader crack
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Rambles
Armin/Reader (Drabble)
Cws: AFAB Reader, Reader is Eren’s twin sister, mentions of bullying, pre-timeskip, not dating (yet), friends to lovers, childhood friends, first love, crying, slight angst, hurt/comfort
About 2.7k words
Summary: Armin kind of breaks down and reader comforts him.
A/n: I had this idea a while back about Reader listening to Armin go on one of his passionate rambles about something he's interested in and then he feels bad, apologizes, and Reader comforts him and tells him that they love listening to him no matter what, so that's what this is:
The longer he spoke, the more impossible you found it to make yourself look away. The animated way he waved his hands, the excitement in his tone, the fact that he had chosen you to share his excitement with, and that little sparkle in his eyes; that’s how you could tell he was truly passionate about something.
It started when you two were just kids. Armin was more than used to others berating him for his ideologies and calling him a heretic. The other kids often took advantage of his small stature and left him beat up on the ground to make themselves feel bigger. Those memories gave you a repulsing feeling in your stomach that made you clench your hands into fists.
However, all this time you’ve known Armin, he’s never lost that glint that appears in his eyes. “I didn’t lose, because I didn’t run,” he would say when you found him afterward. Although you didn’t quite realize it at the time, Armin has always been ideological and wise beyond his years. He holds onto ideas of the future with an unwavering hope, like a fire that never goes out.
You were the first friend Armin ever made, followed by him meeting your twin brother Eren shortly after. You were the first person to reach out their hand, the first person who didn’t call him a heretic for talking the way he did. The first time Armin showed his book to you, he was scared. The outside world was a sensitive topic, and he knew all too well that not everyone took very kindly to the ideas and “unorthodox” dreams he had. The first time he saw your eyes sparkle with interest when he introduced the subject, he felt something thump in his chest but could not pinpoint the feeling it gave him. Nevertheless, it made him feel closer to you, safe with you, to know that there was at least one person in this living hell who cared to listen to him speak with such a sincere smile on their face.
You sighed deeply and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand as you leaned on the table in the library you were seated at. About ten minutes ago, Armin had burst through the doors, hastily apologized for being late to your study session, and begun to ramble excitedly about his time spent with Survey Corps Commander Erwin Smith. Despite their considerable age difference, the two compliment each other nicely when they work together. You have a feeling Armin looks up to the commander a lot. Apparently, they had been discussing Hange’s most recent discoveries with Eren’s titan shifting ability and theorized about mapping out a plan to retake Wall Maria. You knew immediately why this excited Armin so much. Although quite far into the future, if such a plan were to ever come to fruition, it would mean that he would get to see the sea. Out of all the things Armin read about the outside world in the (illegal) book he had inherited from his grandfather, the sea had always been what fascinated him the most. Even the way he spoke about it now sent butterflies into your stomach and a warm feeling filled your chest. You were interested too of course, but something about listening to Armin talk about it made it a million times more engaging.
You found a smile making its way onto your lips as you listened to him speak with such passion. It was adorable as it was admirable, you really hoped to experience that dream together someday. To see the ocean together. Maybe even tell him how much he really means to you…
Unintentionally, you had blanked out on the last two minutes of what he was saying, accidentally getting caught in your own thoughts as you watched him.
Armin cut himself short on what he was saying upon noticing your seemingly dazed-out expression. His heart sunk in his chest, feeling guilty for having subjected you to his ramble and failing to take notice of your disinterest.
“A-ah, sorry Y/n,” Armin chuckled apologetically, “I’ll stop now. I guess I got carried away.” He gave a forced smile and looked at the floor, dejection clear on his face.
You blinked for a few seconds before hastily clasping his hands in yours, leaning forward urgently.
“No no, Armin!” you ushered, mentally slapping yourself as you tried to recover the moment, “Please continue! I promise I’m interested.”
Armin felt his heart skip a beat at your sudden action, but the instant was overshadowed by his clouding self-doubt.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it Y/n…” Armin trailed off, looking off to the side as his feigned smile began to fade. Why are you so stupid? Armin mentally scolded himself, You love her, don’t you? You should be able to pick up on her body language better than that.
Armin began spiraling into an endless rabbit hole of harsh self-criticism and hate, you could tell by the look on his face. Your eyebrows twinged in sympathy, personally understanding the suffocating feeling all too well and knowing that if you had been a little more careful, Armin would have been kinder with himself. Not that you minded, but you found that it was often difficult and painful to get him to break these undeserved thought processes, and the earlier you stopped them, the better.
“Armin, I love listening to you talk. I adore it,” you insisted, giving his hands a squeeze, “I look forward to it every day, always. I mean it.” Although Armin felt touched by your words, he had managed to convince himself that the only reason you were helping him was out of pity. He didn’t want to just be some codependent weakling to you. He wanted to show you that he could be more than that; and that started with right now. Letting you know that you didn’t need you to pretend to like something you didn’t want to for his sake was something of a start.
“Y/n, don’t worry about it, just forget it,” he said in a forced tone of reassurance before placing a practiced smile on his face. Armin didn’t want you to feel bad for someone as undeserving as him. He had always felt like a burden to his friends, for long as he could remember. Some of his earliest memories were of getting rescued from bullies on the streets of Shiganshina by Eren, Mikasa, and yourself. Needing to be saved and being too weak to give anything in return was a feeling Armin had grown to hate. He would rather die than be a burden, and he certainly didn’t want you, of all people, to be shackled down by someone like him. “What were we going to go over today?” Armin asked, trying to change the subject back to your planned study session.
You pursed your lips in distaste when he dismissed the feeling, a new determination rising in your chest. You loved Armin more than anyone else in the world, and you would not allow him to treat himself this way a day longer. “Armin, look at me,” you commanded with a new air of seriousness in your voice. He snapped his head up to face you, your sudden tone taking him by surprise. “You are not a burden,” you stated, your tone adamant and laced with compassion. Armin felt a nail to his chest, both appreciating and wincing at the way you always seemed to be able to read his mind. You noticed the cracks in his expression, and had to stop yourself from cupping his face in your hands to lovingly lean your forehead into his. “Armin please…” you said weakly, your expression softening, “talk to me. You’re the most precious person in my life. Tell me how you’re feeling.” You heard Armin inhale sharply before hesitantly meeting your eyes and knitting his eyebrows together upon seeing how truly you wanted to be there for him.
He breathed shakily, biting back the urge to just collapse into your arms. “I don’t deserve this...” Armin replied, barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear. His answer shook you to your core. Him, being undeserving of… comfort?? Why? As much as you raked your brain, you could not produce a single reason as to why your precious boy didn’t deserve all the love and happiness the world has to offer.
“Armin that’s not true…” you whispered, sympathy clear in your voice, “Why do you think that?”
“Because…” Armin choked, fighting the sting of tears in his eyes, “You all do so much for me. I cannot count how many times you, Mikasa, and Eren have saved my life. If I’m that much of a hassle to take care of, why don’t I just die?!” Armin’s voice was louder now, his breathing growing frantic as he removed his hands from your grasp to wrap his arms over his chest protectively. Your expression had grown shocked, hurt, sympathetic, loving, you weren’t sure what swirl of emotions was currently swimming in your stomach, but you knew you had to comfort the trembling boy sitting in front of you. Before you could reach your hands out, Armin continued, “I’ve never done anything but weigh you all down our entire lives. A-and that time in Trost, I just froze! You and Eren almost died because of me! What is wrong with me?! You’re all so strong so why don’t you just leave me behind? I don’t even deserve to be here. Why are you all still by my side?! I don’t understand it…” Armin’s voice broke, tears beginning to stream down his face.
It was then that you cracked. With zero hesitation, you stood up from your chair and scooped Armin to his feet to envelop him in a warm hug. Armin’s eyes widened and it took him a moment to process the situation before he melted into your embrace, burying his face in your neck. Tears continued to pour from his eyes as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you in return. You closed your eyes and rested your chin on his neck, rubbing comforting circles into his back. “Why can’t you see yourself the way we do?” you sighed lovingly, trying to get Armin to understand, “Not everyone’s value is measured the same way. We save you from titans because we love you. You’re a sweet, loyal, and amazing person, Armin.” His cheeks flushed pink slightly at your words but he stayed silent besides small sniffles and let you continue. “I honestly believe that you’re the most valuable member of the 104th cadet corps,” you stated, “We would be lying dead somewhere without your strategies, and completely lost without your deductive skills. You are in no way a burden. I know the Commander certainly doesn’t think so. You never have been a burden, and never will be.” Armin let out a choked sob at the end of your sentence and pulled you further into himself, clinging onto your form like you were his lifeline.
You shifted slightly and gently led him down a familiar aisle in the library. The floorboards creaked under your feet as you walked, beams of sunlight getting dimmer the further you went. You two had spent so much time in this section, the shelves that held the closest thing to theories about the world beyond the walls that you two could find. Once you got to the end, your hand reached out and turned the knob of the familiar oil lamp that had lit the pages of yours and Armin’s books so many times. You approached the brown cushioned chair hidden at the end of the aisle and sat the both of you down on it, with you leaning against one corner as Armin nuzzled into your side.
His form was tense, shaky and unsure whether to give in or not. You sighed and pulled his body into your front, resting his head in the crook of your neck and beginning to soothingly run your fingers through his hair. Armin felt a hot flush on his cheeks as he continued to cry. He had never meant to break down in front of you like this. Here he was again, burdening you with his emotions, so why couldn’t he stop himself from melting into your embrace? Armin let himself relax, putting his weight on you as he rested his arms around your waist, gripping onto you as if you would disappear at any second. In that moment, as Armin nuzzled close to you, felt your warmth, enveloped himself in your loving embrace, he was reminded of the things he felt when you two first met. Your kind hand, your sparkling eyes, the genuine compassion you showed him. The feelings you gave him had only continued to grow as you two got older. Armin often found his gaze drifting to you without realizing it or absentmindedly playing with your hair at meals or during a lecture; both of which often resulted in him being teased by Eren or the other guys. You had an innate ability to calm him down instantly, but still make his stomach do backflips by simply giving him a smile that he swore could light up the world. Armin couldn’t describe it, you just mesmerized him in every way possible. You seemed to silence the voice in the back of his mind that always told him he wasn’t good enough. He wanted to be close to you, he wanted you to be happy, he wanted to be allowed to keep loving you. He would do just about anything to be standing on the warm sand beside you right now, a cool breeze blowing through your hair as you two look out onto the sea, a huge lake filled with so much salt that merchants could spend their entire lives and still not collect it all.
You smiled softly when you felt the boy relax, draping your other arm around his back as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. “Armin… I’m always right here, okay?” You said quietly, a comforting tone in your voice, “I won’t ever leave you. You couldn’t make me if you tried.”
Armin let out a light chuckle at your comment, and you felt yourself grin softly in satisfaction at being able to bring a smile to his lips. “Thank you…Y/n,” Armin whispered, letting his eyelids sink closed. He felt himself growing suddenly tired. Maybe getting so worked up had worn him out, or maybe that was just the spell your embrace had put him under. Either way, Armin began to feel his consciousness slip away as he rested, cuddled comfortably up against you.
You wore a content expression, actually beginning to feel a sense of drowsiness in your head as well. You rested your head on top of Armin’s, closing your eyes and basking in the perfect feeling of the little pocket dimension you two had created. Once you heard Armin’s breathing even out, you smiled warmly and leaned over to look at his sleeping face.
There was a moment of silence as you took the time to admire him. Although his eyes were puffy from crying, his hair was a tangled mess, and his nose had gotten red from all the rubbing, you still found your heart melting at the sight. It was moments like these that were your favorite. Ones where you got to see Armin as himself and nothing but himself. All his perfections and imperfections laid out for you to see, combined into one boy who never failed to meet you with kind eyes and the most beautiful, genuine smile you had ever seen. A boy who made your heart fill with warmth and could always shine light on your rainiest of days. “I love you…” you whispered quietly, gently pressing your lips to Armin’s forehead. Honestly… his questions were ridiculous. How could it be anyone but him? You rested your head back on top of his, and if you had continued to gaze at his face for a moment longer, you would have noticed the pink tint that creeped up into his cheeks.
Thank you so much for reading!
#attack on titan#armin x reader#hurt/comfort#mutual pining#fanfiction#armin fluff#armin x y/n#armin aot#aot imagines#angst#armin x you#armin arlert#shingeki no kyojin#aot#childhood friends#childhood memories#friends to more#friends to lovers#angst with a happy ending#light angst#bullying tw#comfort#hugging#crying#x reader#x reader fluff#armin arlert x reader#armin imagine
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APPLICATION.
* ◟ : 〔 lovie simone, cis woman + she/her 〕 kit sharpe, some say you’re a twenty-five-year-old lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both determined and nosey, one can’t help but think of watch what happens by kara lindsay when you walk by. are you still an investigative journalist at the local newspaper, even with your reputation as the reckoning? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and hands shaking from the rush of caffeine in your system, pulling an all-nighter in order to meet a deadline, girlhood forfeited in lieu of greatness, although we can’t help but think of cristina yang from greys anatomy, charlotte hale from westworld, nancy drew from nancy drew when we see you down these rainy streets. ( alyx, 24 , she/her, EST )
FILE.
full name: kit sharpe
age: twenty-five
gender / pronouns: cis woman, she/her
orientation: bisexual
affiliation: n/a
occupation: investigative journalist
family: lawrence sharpe (father, alive), sloane sharpe (mother, alive)
faceclaim: lovie simone
inspiration: cristina yang (greys anatomy), charlotte hale (westworld), nancy drew (nancy drew)
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BIOGRAPHY.
DEATH TW
You came from humble beginnings, but you always dreamed of much more. Born in the heart of Harlem, you spent your childhood running around your parents' Bodega. Your days were spent helping your parents stack candy and other items on the shelves, but somehow, your eyes always ended up drawn to the newspapers in the corner. There was always something alluring about the stories written in fine print. The thought of being able to hold someone's fate in your hands, to craft history and deliver it to the masses, made you decide your life's path before you were able to fully comprehend what that career would entail.
You spent your formative years working towards your dream. You began by working on the yearbook team, then switched over to the school newspaper, and finally wound up becoming the team leader and editor of the newsletter. The blood, sweat, tears, and betrayals you endured along the way were worth the end result-- for you had proven you were able to dominate the field, even if it was just at a high school level. The result was the confirmation you needed to fully commit to your chosen career path--- heading off to college to study journalism in the hopes of securing a position with one of the elite newspapers.
Your hopes were answered in the form of an internship during your last year of college. You were able to shadow professional journalists and learn more about the fast-paced profession. The experience only made you more eager to get into the field, to prove your worth, but you knew you needed to be patient. After all, greatness isn't achieved in a day.
You somehow secured a spot in one of the local newspapers a few months after graduation, and this is where you've been since then. You entered the workplace expecting to quickly climb up the ranks, but you soon received a quick reality check. Everyone working alongside you had the same dreams and ambitions as you, and for once, your success didn't come easily. You found yourself unable to keep up with your peers, practically drowning in your deadlines, and it got to the point where your boss gave you an ultimatum--- prove yourself worthy of being here, or you'll get sent packing.
You, a desperate, eager little thing, sought an answer to your struggles. You knew if you had the right story, you'd be able to change their minds about you. If you had the right story, you'd be able to bring this city to its knees. But what kind of tale would enact such a visceral reaction?
The answer came in the form of an accident. You were never meant to be wandering the streets so late-- especially in the sketchier parts of town. You got lost on your way back from an assignment, but instead of finding the subway station, you witnessed a murder. You weren't able to catch the whole story, but you pieced together enough to fill in the blanks--- the murdered man had attempted to skip out on his debts, and the mob sent someone to punish him for his wrongdoings. Some may see the event as tragic, others may see it as well deserved, but you see it as something more--- the story you've been searching for. If you write a piece exposing the mobs and their actions, then the city may look at you like you're a hero and your workplace could do nothing but offer you the praise you desired for so long. It seemed like a perfect plan, but there was one issue. How does one bring down the entities who basically run this city?
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
Sources: A journalist is nothing without her sources. These people could be helping Kit on her quest to expose the mobs for a number of reasons. Maybe they're currently in the mobs and see this as a chance to potentially break away from that life. Maybe Kit has some blackmail info on them and is being forced to cooperate. No matter the reason, Kit will await the information with open arms.
Manipulation: When Kit's sources don't willingly bring her information, she's forced to find ways to get it herself. This connection would involve individuals either in the mob or associated with the mob. Kit would be either trying to befriend or potentially seduce these individuals into revealing evidence against the mobs. Will she find herself getting attached to the individual-- potentially feeling guilty about using them for information? Or will she have no remorse-- viewing the action as nothing more than a means to an end? We'll have to explore this and find out ;).
Interruptions: Kit isn't the type to beat around the bush when it comes to a story. This connection would essentially be an individual, or individuals, who heard about her mission to expose the mobs and is determined to derail her efforts. Maybe they send her threats to try and get her to back down. Maybe they give her false intel or leads. Anything to help draw her away from the city's underworld would work for this category.
I’ll probably add more ideas later but honestly down for anything :)
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Fantastic - Adam Noshimuri
Pairing: Adam Noshimuri x Male!Reader
Warnings: nope
A/N: Flirty and Fluffy
There was no question that Adam Noshimuri was devastated when his marriage to Kono fell apart. After everything they had gone through to be together, he couldn’t believe it was over. He’d made the decision to return to Hawaii because it was home, but more importantly because it was far away from the life Kono had made for herself without him noticing he was no longer a part of it.
Five-0 had pulled him from his drunken stupor, cleaned him up and put him to work. That turned out to be exactly what he needed. Something to keep his mind occupied. To keep him from sitting home alone night after night.
It took him longer than it should have to realize that his co-workers had a rotation of who was spending time with him, asking him to hang out after work hours. He hadn’t thought anything of the invitations. Five-0 had always been a tight knit group, more like a family than anything else. They tended to spend their free time together frequently.
One such invitation had brought him to where he was now, sitting at a table with you and Steve at a little bar you recommended near the beach. Steve grinned at the story you just finished before standing. “Well, it’s time for me to go,” he said while patting his pockets looking for the wallet he never seemed to have on him.
“I got it, boss,” you said after a moment with a shake of your head.
“Thanks. I’ll see you two tomorrow.” And a beat later he was gone leaving Adam alone with you.
Adam ran his gaze along the line of your throat as you tilted your head back to take a long swallow of your beer. “I wonder how much money he’s saved by always having someone else pick up the check?” you asked once you’d sat the bottle down.
He huffed a laugh. “Oh, thousands at least.”
The two of you sat in companionable silence for a long moment. One of the things Adam liked most about you was that he never felt like he had to fill the silence. Just being near you brought him a sense of peace he had been missing for some time. He clenched his teeth and worked a muscle in his jaw. He wanted to spend time with you, but he didn’t want you to feel forced into it.
The day Adam realized he had feelings for you took him by surprise. Not because you were a man. He’d known he was bisexual since his late teens. He was surprised because he’d honestly thought he’d never feel that way again after Kono shattered his heart. The time he’d spent with you had gone a long way toward piecing it back together. That was the day he realized that it was no longer Kono that filled his every waking thought. It was you.
“I know what you’re doing, you know,” he finally said to break the quiet that had fallen between you.
You turned in surprise, eyebrows furrowed in question. “What?”
He nodded and sipped his beer. “All of you. I’ll grant you it took me a bit to figure it out. You guys have it down to a fine art.”
You were completely and utterly lost. “What in the hell are you talking about, Noshimuri?”
He gave you that smile that was almost a smirk that drove you crazy. “Inviting me out all the time. Hanging out after everyone else has gone.” He gestured to the table as he said the last. “I don’t need a babysitter anymore.”
You gave him a blank look. “I have no recollection of these events.”
He leaned back in his seat as he laughed. “I hope that’s not how you testify in court or we’re all screwed.”
A grin crossed your face. He didn’t laugh freely like that often and you were glad to be the one that caused it. “Seriously though. We stopped that ages ago.”
Adam arched a brow and gave you a look that clearly said he didn’t believe you.
You shrugged. “Once Steve figured out you weren’t going to drink yourself to death if we left you alone, he told us to stop. Now it’s just us being us.”
He licked his lips. “So why are you here then?”
“Um…I’m having a beer.” You lifted your bottle to emphasize your point.
He shook his head and pointed one finger at you. “No. You always stay longer than anyone else and try to get me to hang out with you if I’m going to be alone. You still feel the need to babysit me.”
“It’s not babysitting.” Your heart raced and your stomach churned with nerves. Were you really going to make this confession.
“What is it then?”
You sighed and laid a hand on top of his. “Sometimes you can be a little dense, Noshimuri.”
His brow furrowed in thought. You caught the moment he figured it out as his eyebrows lifted and his eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“Oh.” You pulled your hand away and gave him a cockeyed smile. Standing, you drained the last of your beer and tossed several bills on the table to cover the tab. “Have a good night, Adam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He still seemed a little dazed as you left. You were lost in your own head berating yourself for revealing your interest in your friend. Work was going to be so awkward now. You pulled out your keys when you got to your car only to be stopped by a hand on your arm.
You turned in surprise to find Adam smiling at you. “I called your name like three times.”
Your cheeks heated as you shrugged. “I was thinking I guess.”
He stepped closer to you. “Thinking about what precisely?”
You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Don’t remember.”
“Hmm. That’s too bad.” He moved even closer and you stepped back only to find yourself up against your car. Noticing your predicament, Adam smirked. He rested one hand on the side of your face and traced his thumb along your cheek bone. “Because I know exactly what I’ve been thinking about for months.”
Your eyes searched his looking for any dishonesty. “Months?”
He nodded once. “Months.” His free hand found your hip as he eliminated any space remaining between the two of you. His gaze darted down to your lips and back again. “Can I?”
Instead of answering, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. Tasting. Familiarizing. Memorizing the feel of him. His tongue traced your bottom lip and you gasped allowing him entrance. Your hands gripped his hips as your thumbs ran back and forth wishing there was bare skin beneath them. Finally, the two of you pulled away, both trying to catch your breath.
“Holy shit,” you said after a moment, your voice breathy in surprise and need.
That made him grin again. “Let me take you to dinner?”
You nodded. “I’d love that.”
He moved backward away from you. “Tomorrow?”
You mirrored his grin. “Tomorrow.”
He kept his gaze on you for another minute before turning around and walking away. You watched him until he reached his car when he sent one more look in your direction, that grin still on his face. This was going to be fantastic.
#adam noshimuri fanfiction#adam noshimuri x reader#adam noshimuri x male!reader#male!reader#hawaii five-0 fanfiction#adam noshimuri imagine#hawaii five-0 imagine#hawaii five-0 male!reader
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merlin looks in the mirror and smiles.
he counts the years, the centuries, one after the one, he keeps track of them, like prisoners in a suffocating cell making tally marks on a wall.
he looks in the mirror every morning, his personal routine, between waking up and staring at the ceiling of his small apartment and getting ready for breakfast.
(there is a single moment in which he asks himself where he is. which country, which age? which house is his new home? none, a traitorous voice whispers in his ear, none, because his home is gone, forever, not a trace of it left. history has deleted everything but him.)
merlin looks in the mirror and he hates his eyes the most, but he smiles.
(there is nothing left but smiling)
("I haven't seen you smile these past three days")
lately, he walks around a lot.
this century is not made for walking and leisure, for moving around slowly and letting the mind ebb and flow like the tide. fast cars flashes on concrete streets, the noise of motors and the dirty smell of smoke drifting through the air.
merlin has lived too many years to remember how it was, when the sky was full of stars, and the city full of the chatter of people instead of the noise of business, when the woods sank into magic. now the woods are disappearing, and even magic comes more slowly than honey to him.
there’s a phantom of how it was, so feeble it often slips away through his fingers.
(merlin is terrified, because he is forgetting. he is forgetting and there is nothing he can do. he reads his journals, thousands of them, filled in a tiny cursive with memories, but that’s not enough. he reads, camelot was coated in dark red and sweet gold, and, gwen and i once got drunk together on mead and spent our days weaving crowns, and, arthur’s prattishness was forgiven the day he gifted me my first cloak. he reads everything he wrote but those events are further and further away.)
(merlin wonders how much is memory and how much he is just imagining. he doesn’t remember the color of the cloak arthur gave him. he wrote that it was blue, but he isn’t sure. he has to believe the words, because his mind comes out blank, and oh, how scary, to have to rely on pages of paper, weak to the elements of life, destined to turn to dust. all his life, contained in a few journals. all his life, one he can’t remember.)
every morning, merlin looks in the mirror, and his eyes stare back at him, and he hates them, because they always were a shade away from arthur’s. they are so similar to his king’s, and yet different enough.
it is an awful thing, being deprived of arthur’s gaze as well as his life.
(some days, merlin is not able to look at the color red without his chest aching.
some days, merlin thinks about arthur, about gwaine, about gaius, and he doesn’t feel anything. his heart doesn’t hurt and his stomach doesn’t twist in pain.)
(he doesn’t know what’s worse: his blind, useless grief, or this dull indifference.)
merlin is not sure what would become of him if he forgets about camelot, but he knows that everything that keeps his life together is the love he feels for those he left behind, all those centuries ago.
without his love, he is nothing.
the day he’ll stop missing them, will be the day merlin would die as well.
but for him, death is not the end of life.
he can’t see his friends anymore if not in his memories and dreams, after all.
there will never be relief for him.
(will he ever be ready to stop clinging to them? he doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t know if he wants to move on.)
(a part of him knows that he doesn’t deserve to move on, and oh, isn’t that so sweet?)
merlin counts the years and writes his journals and wakes up every few decades in a different place. his roots have rotten, and there’s no ground for him to grow into.
his roots are in a past no longer tangible.
merlin is tired, as he walks and writes.
(have i done enough, arthur? when will have i done enough? when can i rest?)
merlin tells arthur’s story, but no one will tell his.
his love is but a forgotten shore, dry and overflowing in all the wrong directions.
the future is behind him now.
he looks in the mirror in the evening and smiles.
he doesn’t remember how arthur’s voice sounded.
these days, he is forgetting his own as well.
when he goes to sleep, there’s a body in his desperate arms, and the sound of wings leaving him, dooming him to eternity.
in a sea of sweet, flowery moments, shining and warm, the one to remain with him is rusted blood and the taste of salt on his lips.
("I haven't seen you smile these past three days")
#i love the idea of merlin slowly forgetting camelot#merlin spreads the story of arthur in the world#he talks about him and he tells his adventures and arthur becomes a myth and then a legend#and yet merlin still forgets him#he remembers that arthur won battles and defeated armies#and yet he cant remember how#he remembers arthur fought with his father#and yet he is starting to forget the exact words that were exchanged#arthur comforted merlin when freya died and still merlin cant remember what he told him#merlin forgets and forgets and forgets#all he has is memories#and theyre disappearing as well#and merlin himself is the same but also a different person and all he has left to remind himself of what he was#is his love for camelot#love he has to hold on tight#grief he cant let go if he doesnt want to be alone definitely#because all he has is love and memories#merlin#merlin bbc#merlin and arthur#merthur#merthur fic#Arthur Pendragon#merlin emrys#i wrote this#merlin as the memory of the world#modern era merlin#flashfic#merlin fanfic#fanfic
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An Education
crossposting: ao3
synopsis: Rose Explosion handles a crisis.
content warnings: graphic violence
for kloktober day 18: use an overlooked character
(I just love Rose so much. Mega underrated. She did some shit. She must have.)
An Education
While planting a new bougainvillea by the back door of the house, the shovel hit the bodies of ten Fisher-Price little people lined up head to foot in two rows of five each. Every vertical pair was flipped like a proper mass grave. Two of their half-rotten wooden heads were clipped off by the point of the spade.
A couple months ago, she found four of their 1972 World Book encyclopedias strewn around the floor after a picnic in a cemetery. She was so proud she could have smothered Nathan, but any praise towards him had the inverse effect, and he might never touch those books again. Potty training was a disaster for the ages, but the new pea-green carpet was really holding up after three years. She made him a poke cake to reward his research since he wouldn’t slow down eating enough to question the occasion.
Before that, his literacy lacked evidence. To her, it made perfect sense that he wouldn’t read out loud, but it was a challenge that Mrs. Chambers, a harpy of a first-grade teacher, wasn’t willing to take on. Every quiz and spelling test she gave him was returned blank. She was perfectly happy to make him repeat first grade, and “keep him in her class as long as it took for him to learn to follow instructions.” The summer was spent taking intelligence tests under two different psychologists along with eye exams, hearing tests, and fighting her the whole way through until the principal let Nathan progress to second grade with the caveat of being switched back starting in October if he was visibly behind.
The school psychologists’ exam was rendered invalid by the same tricks , but the administration took a report from the one they hired. They sure paid enough for a good letter and a shared understanding that diagnostic labels could hurt more than help. The entire recommendation was based on behavioral evaluations performed at-home, which they filled out as honestly as they could, and in a laboratory so obnoxiously red and yellow that it looked like a diner.
Oscar wouldn’t let him go into special education even if he needed it, but school was still important. The other kids were something the psychologist called “behavioral models,” but common sense backed it up. How else was he supposed to talk more if all his parents’ did was let him get away with silence?
Of course she felt guilty, but not as bad as she did when she held out and saw how upset it made him. Not the bratty only-child kind like Oscar’s mother claimed, but like throwing a man out of a wheelchair.
But, this school year was so far so good... No complaints, no big shows of stony resistance, and no bloody noses while trying to get his shoes on had come up, and it was nearing the end of September! His new teacher begrudgingly accommodated him, but Nathan liked him well enough to do the modest amount of homework he had, tracing pictures of fish in a local game and wildlife brochure for science class. The quizzes were still empty, but this new, young teacher had some “hippy” ideas, and as opposed as they initially were to something that sounded like eco-horseshit, Nathan was going to school without a fight.
She was making ambrosia salad when the phone rang. The hand towel flopped into the sink the moment she reached for it, so she brushed the crumbled boiled egg yolks all over the flowers on her shirt. The eggs “pollinated” her sleeves as she wrestled the cord and realized it was the school board office calling.
Rose left the phone dangling, bouncing against the wall. Leaving the front door open, she flew down the stairs face-first onto her new concrete pavers and scrambled into the car. Yellow bits of egg mashed into the tan velvet seat.
On the way towards the highway, she passed the traffic jam of police cars, fire engines, and lingering ambulances making a pit of broken glass and mud where a lifted truck jutted out of the side of the elementary school. Cars piled up and blocked the buses trying to usher everyone out of the building. The horror she saw was lost in the spectacle for the other cars ahead of her in the lane, driving slowly without knowing how quickly she’d flatten them to get onto that ramp.
When she heard “hospital,” she dropped the phone. Every strip of blown tire on the highway could have been his scalp stripped straight from his head, caught in the brake pad through the spokes of a hubcap and peeled off with half of his sweet little forehead attached. Like wax. And maybe he’d be fine enough to be alive and little else, but whatever made up her son would be lost before she could even discover what he could be. Maybe there wouldn’t be anything left of him to say goodbye to, and maybe she’d be too late and the pile of clean shirts she picked the tags out of with a seam ripper wouldn’t get worn again and the quietest little hellraiser she knew would become the loudest absence.
The hospital corridor was full of white jackets and grieving parents. The excruciated cries of the lucky children and the shuffling of feet roared over the pounding of her heart. She rushed to the wall like a blinded driver and found Nathan completely by accident, all but shoving a man out of the way to snatch him up from the vinyl waiting bench against the wall before she could even look him over.
Time stopped all but for the feeling of his own fluttering chest against hers and his shallow breathing. So easily overlooked and so quiet, so respectful of the world’s own sound- How dare they stand around and swallow him in their sea of bodies? Why was she the only one who saw him in pieces?
His hair stuck to the tears on her cheeks. Blind, she ran back through the chaos of the hospital, shouldering doors open and bustling through the parking lot. After passing her car three different times, she stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of an aisle and caught a whiff of blood and diesel fuel over his shoulder.
As much as she wanted to say, she was left speechless.
#kloktober#kloktober 2022#it's been revised once. might not be super cool. but.#ROSE MY BELOVED SHE DID HER BEST#metalocalypse#mtl#nathan explosion#rose explosion#metalocalypse fanfic#my writing
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What does a setting book need to do?
So, I'm looking at this from my current experience with Dragon Age. I own pretty much everything that came out for the line plus two books supposed to "detail the world" not associated with the TTRPG. Let me just say, they do nothing of the sorts.
Or rather: They all do the same thing over and over again. They give us shorthand descriptions for all regions of Thedas, suggestive art, then leave us to color the rest in. You could almost say: They give us nothing.
I have spent significant time researching the internet on various topics about the world instead of using the books, as people have at least documented the game world from the computer games. And those Wikis are a better source than what Green Ronin gave us.
(Also, when looking for a GIF to show, tumblr directed me to a place to get help. I don't feel that badly about anything related to RPGs, thankfully!)
What I really needed
It didn't describe a single town or city in Ferelden, arguably the main focal point of the setting. The massive game book, which clocks in at 441 pages, devotes an entire paragraph to what a Ferelden city might look like. Places will usually get descriptions in the adventures published with the game - and ironically, those don't appear on the map.
So I designed my own place, Yerenburg, a walled city guarding the mountain passes that will connect the south of Ferelden to Orlais.
I simply needed a place where to locate my next adventure in the campaign, a mixture of two plots. I needed names (city, taverns, inn, streets), then some faction-related NPCs (I created an exclave of dwarven refugees which plays a role in plot B, so factions were important). Basically, a dot on the map and some basic description of the place and its role would have already sufficed to slot my idea in the game world. Dragon Age doesn't even have that.
Ideally, a setting description would provide the following:
A map with some major and minor places in a given land.
A general description of what places are like in the setting.
For each (major) place listed in the map it should give something unique that sets it apart from the general description - landmarks, the layout, local variations. These obviously should include names the GM can use to make the area come alive.
NPCs or factions that might be important to understanding the area, like a major local sect or a gang running things. At the very least who's in power and by what dynamic, and hopefully what challenges this power.
Some plot hooks. These don't need to be long or elaborate, they just get things going.
While I can certainly do with less on my own, one can safely assume, even for places features in video games, that most players know nothing. You are the world for them, their eyes and other senses. The combination of your descriptions either fills in the blanks - or overrides their misconceptions.
If you can't conjure it before your own inner mind eye, you can't describe it to others. Art can help, but the reality is that you need to fill in a lot of blanks still, and here the things above will help. You need a visual idea combined with some understanding of how the place works.
Ways of doing this right
I'll give you two examples of published products that have done this really well - the "Ninth World Guidebook" for Numenera and "Curse of Strahd" for D&D 5e.
The "Ninth World Guidebook" (NWG) is probably one of the best examples of a setting book there is - it really makes the setting of Numenera come alive - which is no small feat. A diverse world built on many previous ruined worlds of science fantasy, each unlike the other. And since it doesn't rely on some other product (movie or video game) to do its worldbuilding, it needs to get the job done so that the Ninth World in its messy and unpredictable nature comes alive to you. And it lives up to the challenge!
It gives you a feel for each region - and breaks the map down into distinct ones. The unique sites and cultures it lists are endless. It leaves you room to color in, but each region will have something that players will remember. It's a treasure trove of fantastic things.
And I don't even like Numenera! The system itself is rather flawed, but when it comes to the setting - and describing it - it wins hands down over any contender.
"The Curse of Strahd" is of course a full campaign/sandbox, not a setting book as such, but it still does marvelously well at putting together the lands of Barovia and making various places distinct. Each place has its own story, and so you can rely on a theme when setting interactions there.
Frankly, it stands apart from all other D&D campaign/adventures for 5e in this regard, as it is a marvelous balance of focused and broad, of detail and broad strokes. I ran part of a campaign in there, and it was never boring. There's plenty of detail you can miss as a player, stuff you can fail to encounter or figure out. You can dig deeper. But as a GM you also have the feeling that you have a great set of pieces that you can play with.
Now, not all locations are super-great, and the adventure only works if you don't play Strahd too smart, but I had my players on their toes. As it should be. And I never wondered how to present a place or convey the tone.
Conclusion
So, when publishing a setting of your own, or when making a setting only for yourself to use, think of these things. I have to remind myself, too. Why did I put this on the map? How does it feel to me? What's different? Is it just more of the same? I had to ask myself these things when putting down a broad strokes setting document for an upcoming sword & sorcery campaign.
A full setting book is a play aid, not something that can be done in broad strokes only. This is the meat for your adventure builders. The adventures written for Dragon Age show that the makers of the game had a good idea of how to make things for the setting, but they leave it to you to figure out details from their own written adventures. It lacks a "this is how it's done" kind of guide to put things together in the same way.
Given that often all we get is a rulebook and a setting guide, or, at best, a few adventures, I would hope that setting guides at least would live up to these standards.
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thinkin’ bout you
in which harry owns a flower shop and has a major crush on a girl who comes in to buy flowers every once in a while (and he’s too shy to ask for her number)
word count: 17.3k
paring: florist!h and y/n
warnings: just some pinning and lustful yearning. m for mature...
author’s note: i’ve been working on this forever. not to pick fav’s but i think florist!h comes second to sl23... hes just so.......well, you’ll see!!
* * * * * *
When Harry was given the option to go on a playdate with his car-loving and dirty-nailed schoolmates or spending the weekend at his nan’s house, he would often pick the latter.
He preferred to spend his afternoons frolicking with her Siamese kitty in her wild-flower filled garden, sunbathing in the open grass, or napping on a quilted blanket under the large, round oak tree, with the kitty nestled into his tummy, keeping him warm. When he woke in the arms of his nan as she carried him inside the house for a glass of cool lemonade, he bore a band of pink sunburn over his button nose, and the blue and white striped Mickey shirt was sticking to the areas where his furry friend had provided an extra heat.
So, it was safe to say that from the start, Harry’s tastes weren’t what could be considered ‘average’ or ‘normal’ or ‘straight’ for a heterosexual male of his age in current society.
Not that he ever valued those opinions, but their impressions rang in the back of his loving head when the women who he brought to the comfort of his home made hurtful ‘joking’ comments on how ‘peculiar’ his choice of decor was or giving him prolonged strange looks before shaking their heads and yanking their clothes off so that they landed in a forgotten heap in some unimportant corner of his room.
Granted, he still got a good shag, but it wasn’t enough to fulfill his desires regarding any actions associated with relationships. He wanted someone warm and soft and kind. Someone who wouldn’t judge his home, his music choices, his clothing, or anything else about him. A girlfriend, not a fuck.
Long ago, he’d stopped caring about what others said about him. Adopting this mindset had given him some of the happiest and healthiest moments of his life (albeit occasionally, doubts merged with the ghastly shadows of his loneliness). Business at his flower shop increased as his charm increased with positivity, and a new life within him bloomed like a baby rose bud when he accepted that being single was okay. The ribbons of his bouquets bouncing with an added umf and the mist that landed on his skin when he changed the water in the flower buckets only enhanced the golden hue of his skin.
Harry even took to renovating his home a bit.
Coincidentally, his apartment was located on the floor above his flower stop, and contained a significant amount of singular flowers in vases or bouquets in empty corners to prove it. An array of pastel colors smeared on the once blank walls. Bambi pink in his bedroom, sage green in his kitchen, and a French blue in his living room. The couch was a suede papaya three-seater with black and white checkered pillows, and the coffee table was an emerald-tiled piece standing on top of a geometric lavender carpet, a soft contrast against the dark oak of his floorboards. Harry’s taste in pop-culture, art, and literature was displayed on the frames hanging off his walls. Pictures and posters of his favorite pieces like Matisse’s Blue Nudes and Goldfish and The Dance II. An enhanced, enlarged photo of maraschino cherries and a raven haired pin-up girl. Another glass table by the end of the couch held a silver candlestick and a small statue.
Sometimes, the miniature Greek statue he bought at a thrift store of a man with his nakedness pure and unobscured to the viewers' eyes made his dick bloat against the seams of his pants. If he stared at it for too long, his eyes drawn to the softened cock between thighs that looked so flesh-like even though it was carved out of some clay or ceramic material, his mind would travel to sensual, honey-red places that he hadn’t been in so long. Harry’s imagination explored- as cheesy as it sounds- the sexual aspects of the male genitalia, and therefore his own sexual expeditions and how much he missed giving or receiving a good fuck. More often than not, he ended up with himself in his fist, forehead sparkling with perspiration under the candle lights in his room as his thighs and abdomen clenched with every buck of his yearning hips.
The doorknob of his room was in the shape of an eye, the iris colored a brilliant blue. His king bed- no, frame, just a minimalist white base, pushed up against the wall with two tables on either side, both of them loaded articulately with vintage trinkets and ceramic ring trays shaped like seashells to hold his jewelry. His bedsheets were a stylish combination of pastel colors; lilac comforter, mint and sky pillows. Previously, they had been snow white sheets with strawberry print, but a woman he brought over said they looked like the sheets her five-year-old niece had.
He changed them the week after that.
On the windowsill, a pot in the shape of a white, blue-eyed kitty with vines of string of hearts kissing the floor. A mirror in the shape of a heart with a pink trim besides the lightswitch, above his brown dresser. In the corner, a bookshelf stuffed with books that spilled over the seams, and perpendicular to it, the home of his pet chameleon, Owen (he wanted a cat, but when he went to the pet store and saw the dehydrated creature, he couldn’t leave him there). A 16 x 16 x 30 inch tank filled with a branch that cut across halfway. It was full of all the things he might need, maybe even too much of it, but it didn’t matter because when Harry was home Owen spent most of his time hanging off the collars of his shirts or snuggled in the ruffles of his hooded sweatshirt on his shoulder. The small, color changing friend adored his owner, and only morphed into a mild red color when Harry didn’t feed him more mango.
The renovations occurred in his bathroom; a cherry-red covering the walls because it looked boring before (at least in his opinion). The gold piping of the sink accentuated nicely with the darker color, and the sun seemed brighter when it streamed in through the window above his ceramic claw-footed tub. Owen particularly liked the misty showerhead stall in the corner, and as long as he kept his eyes to himself, Harry didn’t mind it if his green friend wrapped around the showerhead and enjoyed the mimicked tropical atmosphere.
For awhile now, it had been just him and his chameleon (and maybe his mum’s cat if she was going out of town and needed a sitter) but he didn’t mind it.
He got to meet new people everyday within the parameters of H’s Garden, and they all tended to overshare when it came to buying a bouquet. ‘My wife just had our son, want to see a picture?’ or ‘my boyfriend and I have our anniversary on Saturday’ and even ‘my sister had plastic surgery so me and my dad need something that says ‘congrats you look like Kim Kardashain now’ how ‘bout it?’
Stories ranged from sweet, to grotesque, to sad, to funny, and sometimes even evil- Harry didn’t like customers that gave flowers as a ‘fuck you’. He thought it was a waste of beauty and sacrifice. Flowers were living things that had their lives cut short in order to provide momentary satisfaction and life long memories to the receiver, not bitter feelings of revenge. Although it was still business, it pained him that such a pretty arrangement be misused. It was one of the cons of his work. He created what he considered to be masterpieces, and had no control over where they would end up, whether it be as a centerpiece for a candlelit dinner, or in the trash after the apology for a strong argument hadn’t been enough.
However, Harry couldn’t deny that he didn’t love his job, because he did.
When he turned 16, he’d determined that he wanted a peaceful life with a job that wouldn’t bore him. He wanted to be as stress free as possible, with his spirituality as a prominent highlight in his lifestyle. When he turned 18, he had determined that he wanted to be a florist, and began to save up to open his own shop with the occasional help of his friends and sister. He refused to take anything from his mother because he wanted to be the one giving her gifts and money and everything good after all of her sacrifices in raising him. Call him a momma’s boy. Harry loved his mother.
Online seminars and college classes became his best friend, teaching him everything he needed to know about accounting, stocks, and how to keep his business going. He was a businessman first, florist second. During the slow seasons (the start of winter and an awkward half-week between summer and spring) he relied on his investments to triple-ensure that he had enough money to stay afloat.
On his 22nd birthday, as a gift to himself, he signed the lease to the building that housed all of the pretty plants in temporary buckets full of flower food and water, and hired a graphic designer to design the cursive, golden letters that spelled out the name of his shop above the front door.
Now, three years later, he lived as happy as can be.
And he wasn’t lonely anymore.
Well, if you wanted to be technical, his relationship status was still a checkmark over the box labeled ‘single’, but his heart couldn’t be fluttering any harder at the sight of one of his regular customers, and she was there, creeping around in his brain to keep him company.
She was the complete opposite of every girl he’d ever been with. She was sweet, kind, funny, and didn’t judge him for the way he dressed, or his profession. In fact, they bonded over things that previous women had… slyly berated him for. The color of his nails, the lace of his collar, the pattern of his flared pants, and even the sheep on his baby blue sweater vest.
She stole his heart the moment she walked through his door with a soft smile on her face, a sparkling gleam in her warm eyes, and placed it in her pocket the moment she said, “it smells lovely in here!”
Harry, awestruck and blushing because well, she was pretty and wore a shade of purple that somehow made her hair look so soft. Two strands of hair were pinned at the back of her head, essentially keeping the rest of it away from her face save for the few baby wisps that rested gently against her cheeks like a lover’s caress. The stuttering, stumbling cupid’s-bow-struck fool replied with, “thank you. It would be my pleasure to help you with anything you’d like,” and that had been his name, signed on the dotted line of a soul contract. Only she was not the devil. She was an angel.
But even then, it wouldn’t matter. If she was the devil, if she was an angel, something in between or something new entirely he wouldn’t care because he was half gone for her already.
“In that case,” she smiled, and Harry’s heart sang a melody it never had before. It was like the sun beamed from the spaces between her teeth and tickled the fuzzy spot beneath his earlobe. She had the most amazing voice, tranquil and clear and ethereal. “I just moved into a new apartment and wanted the place to feel like home. I thought maybe flowers would give it a little life.”
He vividly remembers that the color of her cheeks changed to that of what is called a ‘blush’, but he didn’t know if it was a trick under the light, or a product of his wistful imagination. Her fingers gently skimmed the petals of a rose from it’s bucket near her hip, and one of the straps of the tote bag on her shoulder disrespectfully dropped away from her shoulder. He wanted to simultaneously rush over and fix it for her, and yell at the inanimate object for not being grateful of the fact that it had the opportunity to cling to her shoulder.
But, before either of these inner-conflicts met a sound resolve, her delicate fingers righted what was once wrong, and Harry cleared his throat, embarrassed because he’d stared for a little too long. He wanted so badly to ask for her name and how she liked her eggs in the morning, but instead he said, “there’s nothing like a bit of something pretty to brighten your day. Did you have something specific in mind?”
He hoped that the meaning of his words wasn’t caught on her, or that would be totally embarrassing and ‘loser’-like.
When she walked out the door with a content smile on her lips, his own heart was beating faster than the flapping of a hummingbird’s tender wings. He was sure that he had never laid eyes on a pair of lips like hers, neither the feeling that blossomed in his chest at the thought that she might be smiling just for him to see and enjoy.
Of course, it was a silly crush. One that clawed and gripped onto his sweaty palms with no sign of letting go. Maybe, Harry thought, it was because he hadn’t wet his wick in so long, and the interaction he’d had with her had sparked irrational, poem-inspiring feelings within the love cavern of his ribs. Because how could he fall head over heels with someone he didn’t even know? Surely, the swarm of hormone-pumped butterflies in his stomach was the beginning of a dead-end infatuation.
Right?
Harry went that entire day, appalled at the apparent angel he had the fortune of being in the presence of in her short fall from the tender heavens. He wondered where she placed the flowers she bought (an arrangement he was particularly proud of, full of lilac, delicate stems of lavender, and puffs of baby’s breath wrapped with a white bow) and where that tiny extension of him was. At the entrance of her home, right below the place she rested her hand against as she tugged her shoes off? At the center of her table? Maybe besides her bed? Where she would see the purple petals and white of him as he wrapped it every time she woke up or went to bed? He hoped- as much as it was a romantic thought- that it wasn’t the last one. He’s been so awkward, so pink. A blush on his cheeks he hadn’t remembered being there since the time he yelped, startled, at the unexpected pain of a tattoo needle, the artist pointedly peeved. Acting like such a boy.
Right before crawling up the steps of his apartment, heart still bleeding with love-blood from the deadly tip of Cupid’s arrows, he made himself a mini version of the bouquet he’d made her, and placed it at the center of his tiled coffee table.
*********
A few days trickled by, and the memory of her face drifted in and out of his mind like a giant sway of fabric slowly billowing in the wind. He was just so… struck by a slab of awe, stunned by her kind of beauty. Natural, the kind that hooks you in it’s purity, like the golden beams streaming in through transparent curtains on a warm spring afternoon.
Her strawberry lips curved elegantly under her nose, and displayed a smile that leaked some sort of heady drug into the air because the air was sweet when he breathed it in. And when he handed the bundle of flowers over to her, the pads of her delicate fingers skimmed the rough ridges of his knuckles. He wondered immediately what kind of moisturizer she used, and if it smelled like honey or lavender or peaches. She smelled sweet. Sweeter than all of the flowers in his colorful soul shop put together. The colors that belong to her, on her person and worn by her, were more captivating than any of the tones that painted the petals on his plants.
Owen got a kick out of this whole ordeal, though. Harry’s passionate mood had him divulging in munching and nibbling on things that tasted the way he felt; ambrosial, fresh and pure. It resulted in the purchasing of endless amounts of fruit, with many bites given to the tiny chameleon. Mangoes, strawberries, oranges, grapes, pears (Asian pears, if the store carried them, they were Harry’s favorite), peaches and guavas. The sudden craving for fruit might be explained as just a casual craving, but deep deep down inside, Harry knew that it was because he wanted to replicate the feeling that coursed through his golden veins when she giggled at something she happened to find funny.
He wished that he had caught her name. The girl had paid in cash (and left a five dollar tip Harry fawned over), so he couldn’t have read it on her card, and he was halfway between charming and awkward that he didn’t even think of asking for it until the minute the door closed behind her, bells tinkling in announcement of her exit. He wished for a hundred different things, but he was not the type to live in regret. Not anymore. So after about a week of floundering in her memory, he meditated for an hour, tropical incense on one of his bedside tables, and cleared his mind as best he could.
The next morning, he did the same thing. Woke up with heavy limbs, plopped himself down on his blue mat and stretched in various positions, his white boxers hanging low on his hips. His lips and eyes were sticky with sleep, and the back of his nose ached with cold air that he must’ve breathed in throughout the night after forgetting to close the window (again) but the pleasurable twinge of stretching aches between his joints were the perfect way to start his day. They urged his mind to transform into the still surface of water, clear and collected from any unproductive-pinning thoughts towards a girl he would most likely never see again.
Even his clothes reflected his refreshed mindset.
Harry donned his favorite pair of flared trousers in an earthy brown color, nestled snugly on his slender hips and around his thighs. The tight fit accentuated the way his back tapered into his waist, glutes shapely and sculpted. A maroon sweater vest that had a teddy bear embroidered on the middle of his chest, the small latte-toned stuffed animal seemingly childish, but on him it only directed attention to the spotlight daze of the velvety heart sheltered underneath his breathless plate. Underneath, a mustard long-sleeve shirt with tiny cherries printed on them. Some straight, some tilted or lopsided. His shoulders and biceps were hidden in the floofy bunches of cloth, anonymity given to the true thickness of his ink slathered skin.
He looked like a corduroy dream. A thick milkshake of patterns and colors, but he managed to pull it off.
A tiny gold hoop on his right ear gleamed under the morning sun coming in through the windows and a pearl necklace rested against the downy skin of his throat. Slender fingered tipped with a coat of pure white, with his ring fingers accented in a shimmery pink. Chunky rings adorning the base of his digits; a silver rose, a band of dancing teddy bears (a running theme with him), two gold rings with his initials H and S on one hand, and a simple ruby stud from his graduating class.
He looked good, he knew that he looked good, and was ready to begin a bright, healthy, non-pretty-girl-thought-polluted day. Even the old woman had pinched his cheek whom he had been assisting- a regular-had said he looked like a proper ‘nice boy’ along with ‘when are you going to her a lovely girl to help you run this place, Harry?’. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had momentarily sworn off women until his broken sentiments healed, and they had a long way to go.
In the middle of wrapping a smashing set of tulips and fern stems with a cherry red bow, the bells adorning the top of the door frame dinges, announcing the entrance of another pleasant customer and giving passage to a gust of chilly air. Harry looked up to greet the customer with his usual pleasantries of ‘welcome! I’ll be with you in a moment!’, but the words died on his throat in a desperate hussle, just as the little mermaid had given up her voice to meet her gallant prince.
It was his own personal little slice of heaven presented to him on the black and white checkered floors of his shop. Hair loose against her shoulders again, eyes cast downwards to inspect a bucket of fresh daisies that tickled the space above her bare knees. How she could wear a skirt in this biting weather, he didn’t know, and it partially prevented him from continuing his pursuit of admiring her because the first thought his caring mind jumped too was, ‘is she cold? And if so, does she need a sweater? Because I will gladly give her one.’ His second thought, however, was ‘how could someone be that beautiful?’. The third was something along the lines of ‘all my yoga has gone to shit, and I’m okay with that’.
He cleared his throat, tightened the bow around the stems of the flowers in his hands and said, “I’ll be with you in a moment, love!” His head bowed, looking at his work because he wasn’t sure he could afford the medicals for the paralysis that was sure to take over his meek self if they made eye contact so soon. Harry needed a moment of homeostasis, his soul adjusting to her dulcet presence.
The woman he was assisting, Edna, spoke, drawing him out of his daze, but he had been so deeply in thought that he had not heard what she said.
“What was that?” He asked her. He grabbed Kraft paper from the roll by the register to wrap up her arrangement.
“The girl. You like her?” She was smiling at him, wagging a finger the way his nan used to do when she caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. “Don’t lie to me, I recognize that look. I’ve given and received that look many times throughout my life.”
The woman was not wrong. With age, comes wisdom, Harry thought, smiling to himself at being caught. A dimple carves itself into his cheek, nestling onto the space above the corner of his mouth as if he had no choice in the matter. The apples of his cheeks were shadowed with a dusky pink, and the tip of his nose was twitching like a rabbit when it stood on its rear and sniffed the air, only he was coy after just being caught and wanted to avoid the question as much as possible.
“I’ve got no idea what y’talking about,” he chuckled, keeping his voice low so that the intriguing stranger in the store didn’t hear that their topic of discussion was her. He moved over to the register to ring her up, and even slid in a discount he applied to customers he liked.
“Next time I come in,” Edna said, passing Harry her debit card, “I hope to hear that you got her number, dear. Don’t let these opportunities pass you up. Life is short. And who knows? She could be the one.” Harry gave her the card back after charging her, and handed her the flowers, too. All the while Edna was grinning at him, shaking her head like she knew something he didn’t.
“Take care, Edna. And don’t forget to change the water every 2 days with the flower packets I placed at the stems,” he reminded her, sweetly wiggling his red-lacquered nails at her retreating woman as butterflies awakened in his stomach in a furious flood of nerves. The girl was looking around, her hands hovering over the up-turned faces of a bundle of lively sunflowers, browsing and quietly humming to herself as she waited.
There was no backing out of this, even if he wanted to. And he didn’t! He didn’t want to back out. The girl was a customer, and he would have to approach her no matter what. But she was so pretty it was also intimidating. He doesn’t remember ever being this nervous while approaching someone, especially one he harbored feelings for. His heart was pounding so loud, he was sure it was audible.
“Hello,” he wanted so badly to add ‘love’ at the end of his greeting. “Are y’finding everything a’right?” He asked her, his hands wringing themselves, palms moist with sweat from his unyielding need to impress her. The pink tip of his tongue poked out to swipe across his full bottom lip, and soon after that his teeth sunk down into it, nibbling with uncertainty. Harry made sure that he was standing straight, body aligned to face hers because in that psychology course he took once, he learned that it was a subconscious tactic to engage interest and pleasant replies to attempts at wooing another.
At the sound of his voice, the girl jumped, startled at the sudden vibrations of Harry’s husky voice. Her delicate feet, he noticed, skittered on the floor from her tiny jump, and her doe eyes widened, shouldered rising and falling at a quicker pace than before from the new rush of light fear. When she realizes that it’s just him her hand flattered over the base of her neck and her collarbone in attempts to soothe her racing heart.
“M’s sorry,” he whispers, his hand clamping over his mouth, and then lowering to his chin when he speaks again, “didn’t mean to scare y’love.” This time he can’t restrict himself. It comes so naturally, like the endearment was meant for her, and when a flush covers the bridge of her nose his first instinct is to coo at her for looking so cute. The second is a surge of guilt for having scared her to such an extent.
“It’s okay,” she says, a little out of breath. The blush on her face was partly because she was embarrassed at her own reaction, while the other was that she had let herself act so freely and uncoordinated in front of someone that looked like him. Handsome and sweet and eyes so green they refreshed you upon first glance. Like the cool burn of water going into a mouth that had just chewed a stick of minty gum. “I want to buy these flowers.”
God help him. Her voice alone was enough to make him melt. The lilts and melodies of her voice swarming all four of the ventricles in his heart with warmth, and every blood cell that passed contained a glowing heat, buzzing with her energy.
She points to the sunflowers, her gaze lingering on them with longing. A soft smile toying on her mouth, and Harry could see the tendons in her throat stretch as she inhaled to add another thought to her sentence, “Do you sell vases by any chance?” The girl looked at him shyly, her eyelashes almost twinkling as she blinked, and his heart soared, “I had a really nice one in the shape of a big Coca-Cola bottle, and I accidentally knocked it over, so now I have nothing to put them in.”
Harry is incredibly enamoured by subconscious gestures that take over her hands as she speaks, fiddling as if the vase she spoke about was in her hands, all in one piece before it was broken. He’s quiet throughout her tiny ramble, listening and taking note of her enticing antics. She’s looking down at the floor or the flowers or her hands, and when her eyes dance over to his steady gaze, “I’m rambling aren’t I?” she murmurs bashfully.
“No, no it’s a’right. I can look in the back for something if y’like?” He suggested, arrowing a thumb to the ‘back’ he mentioned. “Did y’want anything in particular?”
“Oh, I don’t wanna be a troubling customer!” She squeaked, concerned with becoming a nuisance she didn’t want to be.
“Y’not a bother, love. M’promise. I’ll go look f’you. What color did y’have in mind?” He asked her, tone calm and soothing to reiterate his sentiment. She was not a bother. The only thing about her that bothered him was the fact that he did not know her name, and even that was his own fault for not asking her.
His hands rest on his hips, tattooed cross momentarily hidden by the bunch of his sweater vest as he waits for her to respond, his eyes locked on her mouth, her own tongue subtly licks her lips, adding a sparkly sheen to it that only drove him crazy. Ever the jilted fool, his mind jumps to what it would feel like to kiss her, or what it would feel like if she kissed him in other places. What fruits she tasted like, and what kind of kisser she was. A timid one? With a patient mouth waiting to be broken open with the force of his own? Frugal? Opening her mouth and giving him everything she had to offer.
“Something pink, please. If you have it.” That smile again. One that told a million apologies it didn’t owe, with her eyes pinching at the corners with whatever nonsense culpability she felt. Her voice was sweet, Harry thought, like wind chimes on a summer morning.
Feeling guilty for allowing such dirty thoughts to gallop through his mind when she was so… so pure. Like an angel. Even her way of presenting herself was shy and sweet, yet he was thinking about kissing her. Was that perverted? She was a customer he had seen twice, and his mind was already running wild with luscious assumptions; a sunday topped with a red cherry of sensuality. How awfully dirty of him.
But! But those were not the only thoughts he had. He wanted to ask her what happened to cause her to drop her vase, and where she had bought it. If it was vintage, considering it was a Coca-cola bottle, and if she had any accidents while cleaning up the mess of broken glass. He wanted to hear her thoughts. No, better yet, he just wanted to hear her talk. He wanted to get to know her. To know if she was as nice as she looked.
“‘Course,” he mumbled, his eyes shamefully downcast to the floor. “Be righ’ back.”
Harry stalked off to ‘the back of the store’. Truth was, there was no back of the store containing vases. There was only a small closet with boxes of items he might need around the store, like flower food, rubber bands, and decorative paper for the bouquets. A crate of bottled water for when he got too lazy to climb up the back stairs and into his home.
His home.
Plucking the keys from his pocket, a ring that held a ceramic swan his closest friend Mitch had gifted him with a humble admission of ‘saw this at a thrift store and thought about you, H, I had to buy it’, and five keys: one to the front door of his shop, one to the cash box in the register, one to the mailbox, another to the front door of his apartment, and one to his car. The one to his front door was painted at the head with pastel pink nail polish, so it was easy for him to pick out when he was dead tired after a long day of being on his feet (spunky shoes that he liked to wear sometimes didn’t help ease the ache on his back, and neither did his posture).
The back door that led to the stairs had locks on both the inside and the outside. A deadbolt and chain on matching sides of the door to ensure comfortable sleep at night, and peaceful work time during the day. Not having to worry about curious children opening doors or nosy customers relieved him. It was a little amatuer, but the door made a loud noise when opened because it wasn’t quite level, and he had a tiny key so he could lock it from the outside, too.
A loud shucking noise resonated through the store as he pulled the door open, and then again when he closed it behind him. The delicacy of his dainty yet large hands were nearly comical around the tiny golden pin stud that hung from the chain, almost slipping from his hands with nerves as he slid it in place. Harry didn’t think that she was nosy or anything like that, bit if he was going up to give her a vase of his own personal collection, he didn’t want her to find out and feel even more intrusive that she already did.
He was a huge giver, and upon hearing her say that she broke her flower pot, his mind was already thinking about the perfect one to replace it. It just so happened to be sitting on his shelf with a bundle of dying lavender. Climbing up the stairs (the ache in his thighs was a mere twinge compared to what it was when he first moved here), Harry huffed and thought to himself all the ways he could ask for her name and number.
Listen, I really like y’and would like to have y’number?”
Do y’wanna have my number so we can go out sometime if y’feel like it?”
“Is it alright if I get y’number so we can go out sometime?”
“Hey, love. What’s y’name?”
Nothing’s making sense to him. The pick up lines he had stored in his head for the rare times he would flirt with a girl were slipping from him. None of them seemed worded right to use with her. Too abrupt or too brisk. Not sweet enough. He wanted to treat her gently and to be worthwhile of her time. Plus, it also had to be smooth enough that it made her forget she was paying him for flowers or it would be awkward. He was a twenty-six man for crying out loud, not a twenty-one year old smile at the bar looking for a good time. This wasn’t a ‘good time’. This was… a courting. An inquiry to a relationship. A rose rose in a candlelit room.
Harry opened his front door and moved in a quick jog to a table besides his hi-fi that held a translucent pale pink glass, fat at the base before twirling and widening a few inches at the lip. An image of a nude mermaid puffing out at the front like an engraving. Cuddling it into his breast, he grabbed the lavender, speed walked back to his kitchen where his toe banged against the metal of the trashcan as he pressed on the lever to open it. He hissed fuck under his breath and shucked the dead lavender into the bag before turning back to his door, closing it behind him, but not locking it because he didn’t want to keep her waiting. His feet moved quickly down the stairs, the one hand not holding onto the vase cupping a hand over the side of his hips that held his keys so they didn’t make much noise.
The button on the chain slipped from his fingers a few times from their repeated clamminess, and when he was ready to finally twist the knob, he paused to take a breath and collect himself. Harry ran a hand through his hair, fixed his collar, and dusted off his pants legs. He wanted to look perfect for her.
“Don’t be stupid,” he murmured to himself. He had a good feeling about this. About her. And if he messed this up because he looked bad or said something weird he would kick himself into a muddy ditch.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and calmly walked back, “I’ve got the last one,” he said, tapping the tip of the vase with his pointer finger. It was a lie, right through his teeth, but he was happy to tell it in return for the way she was looking at him in that moment. His eyes rounded out as he approached her, like the curves of hearts that made up the heart-eye emoji, or the puppy-dog face. Just another physical display of his growing affinity towards her.
“Oh my god!” She said, “It's so pretty!” The trapped crystals in her irises twinkled with bewilderment at the treasure Harry’s presented her with. She’s got a smile on her face, and he can’t help but think, ‘wow, she looks like a freshly bloomed white lily’.
There’s a vintage print hanging in his corridor, a ‘flower language chart’ with different types of flowers and a sentence beneath them describing the messages they send. For example, red carnations= my heart aches for you. The description beneath white lilies reads ‘my love is pure’.
She asked him if it wasn’t too pricey, and he made up some fake sale he had going on about a hybrid BOGO in which if she bought an arrangement she would get a vase included in her purchase (he added “I’ve got a shipment of new ones coming in an I need the space cleared out before they get here” just to make sure his fib is believable.) And he explains this so shyly. Harry can’t keep his eyes locked on hers because she’s staring at him with an intensity that lets him know she's really listening, and it makes him squirm. The tips of his fingers tap against the vase, and he’s tripping over his tongue, which is ridiculous because he already talks so slow.
“I guess I was right in waiting then,” she said casually, waiting for Harry to finish ringing her up.
His finger froze over the touch screen of the sleek, modern device (he wanted nothing but the best for his store) and listened to the exciting roar of blood through his eardrums at her words. I guess I was right in waiting then? What did that mean? That she was planning on coming back to see him and didn’t? Of course, it could also mean that she was going to buy something else somewhere else, but he couldn’t stop the vine of ripe hope that swelled around his chest. And she looked so apprehensive while saying it. As if she was walking on glass and was looking for cracks as she stepped. As if she was waiting on him to catch on to something.
Harry cleared his throat and looked at her through the corner of his eye, trying to be as discreet as possible as his fingers continued their deliberate work on the screen, “What d’you mean, love?”
“I was going to stop by sooner, but I just got in my head about it,” the girl shrugged, and adjusted the ends of her cardigan so they wrapped around her torso. She had a different bag this time, one of those reusable market bags that was made up of holes, and it was filled with two books and a can of green tea from the vegan store down the street. Harry thinks he can make out one of the titles on one of the spines, which looks suspiciously similar to something that he has on his own shelf.
“Why would y’get in y’own head about coming to m’flower shop, hmm? It’s hardly that intimidating,” he chuckles to play off the dashes of pink and red that are painting themselves across the bridge of his twitching nose, “I don’t bite, either.”
And he hopes that his wistfulness isn’t meddling with his vision because he swears that he can see a matching reaction on her own doll face. “I know! I know, it’s just that I can’t help it sometimes. Talking to other people makes me nervous.”
Harry could coo at her right now. He doesn’t, though. He nods and smiles at her before reading her total out to her, “That I get, too. But y’doing just fine with me, love.”
Waiting patiently as she digs through her bag for cash, he tries to not stare. However, it’s impossible. His eyes had a mind of their own dragging against the forces of his will to feast on her image again. Her hands and the tip of her nose. The base of her neck and gentle swell of her clavicles. The swoops of hair that hung in a curtain from her shoulder as her head tilted in search, and the how her teeth bit down into her lip in concentration. Harry counted the amount of times her eyelashes met her waterline in those few seconds of comfortable silence. Three.
“I thought I had cash on me today,” something in her bag clicks, and she pulls out the rectangular card Harry’s become familiar with, holding it out to him between two deft fingers, painted with red hearts on a white base. “I guess I used my last twenty at the organic food store down the street,” she said.
“It is pretty easy to get lost in there, isn’t it?” He took her card from her, and tried not to make it obvious that he was eager to read her name off of it as he inserted it into the machine. The embossed letters into the plastic read y/n y/l/n, and when he turns back to look at her, he can’t help the smile that spreads across his boyish features.
Y/n.
Y/n, y/n, y/n.
This is what it must feel to be let in on a secret that’s worth millions of dollars. It must, because Harry’s heart is soaring with a closure he didn’t know he needed. Y/n, y/n. Her name tickled him. Stroked him. Lathered him with the honey smoothness of the beeswax shampoo he bought at that fateful organic store. It was a fitting name. Sometimes, one could tell a person ‘you know, I actually thought you were a Amy or a Jessica’, because their looks and style just didn’t match the strength or modesty of their name. But not y/n. It fit her like a glove. There was no other way to make sense of the way Harry’s brain was thinking. The name was her.
“What?” Her lips quirk up into a smile and her eyebrows dip in confusion. Why was he looking at her like that? Did she have something on her face? Here she was, opening up to a cute stranger and she had something on her face? This, she thought to herself, is humiliating. Her finger dusted off non-existent crumbs from the corners of her mouth, “do I have something on my face?”
“No! No, no.” Harry’s careful beam simmered down from it’s previous brightness, and his hand nervously filed through the swoop of chocolate curls sitting on his head like a cinnamon roll. “I just think y’name is pretty thas’ all.”
He murmured the last part so that it was practically incoherent, and lowered his gaze as a searing heat stretching like saran wrap around his head and the divot on the nape of his neck. Oh, God. He was fucking blushing. Great Harry. A normally favorite among the ladies had been reduced to murmurs and thick, uncoordinated movements.
Like dropping her card when she piped up again.
Voice as small and quaint as his had been, "you think my name is pretty?” Her fingers are wrapped around the frail straps of her bag, tight enough that her knuckles were white and Harry was scared that she’d bury her fingernails into her palm.
“I think y’very pretty.” He whispered back. He can’t even bear to look at her in fear that he’s totally fucked himself over once and for all. His logic was this: what girl wants to be told by the guy they’re buying flowers that they’re pretty after he reads her name from her debit card? Especially one who (if outside female sources are to be believed) dresses “the way my mother did when she was a girl in the seventies”? Jesus, fuck. He must’ve looked ridiculous.
Harry opened his mouth to backtrack and apologize for being so unorthodox in his workspace, a breath sitting on his tongue with words ready to spew out, but the bell began to chime and it yanks his head from the register to the front and instead he said, “welcome! I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Flustered and full of regret, the flower connoisseur returned his wired gaze back to y/n, who… was smiling at him? The kind of smile that said ‘oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that. Now please say it again’? Was he… dreaming? Did he have to pinch himself in order to verify that he wasn-
“Thank you... what’s your name?” Y/n looked at the card from his hands and sunk her hand- carefully, as to not get her fingers stuck in any of the tiny holes- and there was another clicking noise before she took her hand back out. That angel-like smear of girlish happiness was still on her, decadently radiating positivity and secret affection. Goodness leaked from the seams of her bones; through the cracks of her breastplate, radiating from her chest to Harry’s. He could feel it now. He could feel that his previous assumptions about her nature were true. She was altruistic and tender, like the inside of a bird’s wing.
“Harry. M’name’s Harry.” This time, he didn’t hide his happiness. Even his eyes shone with a heightened, clear and sparkly shade of liquid evergreen. The joy that bounced inside of him like ricocheting metal balls in a pin game machine. His slender hand, fawn-skinned and graceful like the legs of a deer, stretched out between them. His mother had taught him that along with the first introduction of his name, a handshake must be present, always. Dipping his head slightly, and his words spongy with love-ditz, Harry rumbled, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”
She placed her hand in his, and was practically swallowed by only his palm. He curled his fingers around her, thumb and middle finger overlapping around the clammy center of hers. So she was nervous, just as he was. Y/n was trained on their embracing limbs, and he could feel a spot on his neck where the skin palpated from the rush of blood as she observed their entwined digits. Their hands moved up and down, up and down between them for longer than necessary until her chin twitched back up to meet his, and she blinked mawkishly, slowly, like the videos of rehabilitated barn owls Harry sees on his Instagram.
Then, suddenly, as if she remembered she was not the only one present, y/n jolts upright and shakes her head dazedly. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Harry. I like your nail color,” she added.
He’s cheesing. A shit-eating grin too big for his face and it carves dimples into the flesh of his cheeks. His name on her tongue had never sounded so appealing, like it was made for her and only her to say. Not even the turtle-doves that cooed outside his window in the mornings sounded as beautiful as she did saying his name. And she complimented her nails! She hadn’t scrutinized him like others had, instead, she displayed her admiration for them. No one- well, actually he can’t say that without offending Mitch- no female of his age had ever received him with such open-mindedness as hers. If he didn’t have any self-restraint, he would giggle. Instead, Harry pulled his hand back so that their perfect moment wasn’t sullied with bouts of bad timing, “thank y’love. I like yours, too. You’ll have t’come over sometime and paint mine, yeah?”
Y/n laughed, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t been too bold, “I’d love too!” With glee frozen on her, she turned to look over her shoulder at the customer who was browsing the flowers Harry had in buckets, “I don’t want to hold you back from a customer for so long. I’ll stop by again soon, Harry. Thank you so much for your help.”
The moment her hands reached for the wrapped bundle of sunflowers and the mermaid vase, a metaphorical grey cloud of rain and thunder manifested in the space above his head, and blocked all of the sunshine from spanning across his toned, lithe body. Did she really have to go? He wanted to whine. Maybe even wrap himself around her ankles like a child that refused to leave the park. They were only just getting to a mutual spot of comfort! Forget the other customer, he wanted to shout. Harry would kick them out and flip the sign to ‘closed’ if it meant only a few more minutes in the presence of her candy-coated charisma.
But he knows that’s unrealistic, and settles with, “it was my pleasure, y/n,” a flirty wink (at least he hopes it is), “I’ll be waiting f’your next visit.” His taffy lips wrapping effortlessly around his smooth words, fueled by her welcoming receptiveness to his advances. It would be easy to be himself in the future, a little smoother and eloquent in his language and feeling. He was usually clear with what he wanted from anyone, and made it a pleasurable experience in all aspects for both parties involved (once it was three). Harry wanted to sweep her off her feet, and he wanted it to be an enjoyable experience for the both of them. Revel in that feeling of blooming emotions in a new relationship. A healthy one, in which he wasn’t receiving back-handed compliments all the time.
He wasn’t superficial enough to push anyone off the table based on looks alone, but it did help that y/n had the disposition of an angel. An ethereal voice, supple lips that looked so silky and soft they had to feel that way, too, and hands that felt so tender in his. Perfect for holding on a late night stroll, or over the center console of his car when -if they go out on dates.
What really hooked, reeled, and sinked him, though, was the fact that she was so nice to him. From the start, she’d been nothing but polite and sweet with him. Don’t even get him started on the way he swooned at the tone of her voice when he said that her name was pretty! So quiet and velvety, careful and calculated like she wanted him to know that it was okay. That she wasn’t thrown off by his comment. He nearly toppled over, clutching his heart with his legs jutting straight up into the air like a frightened goat.
It wasn’t until the bells stopped ringing the sad notice of her exit that Harry realized he passed up the perfect opportunity to ask for her number, and as he kicked himself over it, he walked with the perfect customer service face he could muster to help the other person in his store.
***
Harry was having a shitty morning.
Not the kind of morning where every aspect of his routine is a terrible mishap, but like the water being too cold and the stove not working or the bottle of oat milk in the fridge being empty so he couldn’t make coffee. No, everything was fine and rolling smoothly, as it should.
His water was the perfect temperature and ran down the toned bumps and divots of his muscles like the relaxing thrums of a lover’s caress in the midst of prowling heat. As soon as it hit his back, he released a sigh of contentment, his shoulders hunching and head rolling back and his hands roamed his shoulders and the back of his neck, rubbing away any aches that existed. The branch of eucalyptus that hung from the golden pipe of his showerhead fused a thick minty scent into the steam that fogged the glass wall, and the calming aroma helped the tendons loosen like the deflating limpness of untied shoelaces. He spent a few minutes just standing there, inhaling and exhaling deeply and feeling his lungs open and stretch beneath his rib cage.
It almost made him wish that he’d opted to use his tub for a hot bath instead.
He was able to cook an egg just fine on his stove, with dashes of Everything Bagel Seasoning with a side of avocado and a slice of toasted cranberry walnut bread, the same thing he had every morning. The carton of oat milk was brand new from his trip to the market the day before, and his coffee tasted the same as it always did. But… he was just... sad. An melancholy soreness that eroded against the insides of his body, consuming him slowly but surely and leaving him with a lost feeling of emptiness and unimportance.
He thinks he might know why he’s feeling this way.
While he’s stirring his scrambled eggs, he’s wondering how y/n likes hers. Over easy? Sunny-side up? Scrambled, like him? Did she even like eggs in the morning? What did she eat in the morning? He knows that some people ‘aren’t hungry’ in the mornings, though that’s only because they’ve gone hungry in the mornings before for an extended time period, and after so long of not feeding their growling stomachs, their brain discontinues the signals of hunger. Harry hopes that isn’t the case with y/n, and that she’s eating the proper three meals a day every day.
And while he dipped a mini vegan chocolate croissant that he got at Whole Foods, he also wonders what she likes to dip chocolate croissants into, or if she even likes chocolate croissants. If she was a person who likes sweet treats, like strawberry tarts with powdered sugar over them or something lighter, like fruit cut into small squares in a bowl. When Harry was younger and would visit his nan on the weekends, she would pick fresh strawberries from her garden and cut them up for him when he’d woken from his nap. Sometimes, she would even sprinkle half a tablespoon of sugar over them. He wonders if she’d ever eaten strawberries like that.
It’s been a week and a half, he still hasn’t seen her, and his heart is yearning.
Harry knows he’s not in the correct headspace to assist other people with a cheery disposition about an hour before opening time, and decides it’s best if he writes a note on the door about how the shop wouldn’t open that day because he didn’t want to taint the reputation of his business by snapping at a customer for the only bundle of sunflowers he had, or dissolve into a puddle of love-sick tears in the middle of ringing someone up. Though really the notice just says ‘H’s Garden will not be opening today. Sorry for the inconvenience!’ followed by a frowning face and a lopsided, filled-in heart.
Harry drags his feet back up the stairs, his lower lip jutting out in a discreet but depressing pout, and grabs Owen from his tank so that the chameleon could curl into the shoulder of Harry’s hoodie while he moped on the couch to sappy rom-coms that would only make him think about her more. At least there was someone there with him, even if his small green friend only used him for mangoes and papaya. They sit together for the entirety of Romeo + Juliet, and when it’s over, Harry’s sniffly and standing up to return Owen to his enclosure and to clean because the riotous emotions that whirl within him are too much to process while sitting down.
Cleaning wouldn’t help him solve his problems, but it would help him cram all of his worries into a tight corner at the back of his mind- sort of like when dirty laundry began to overflow in the hamper and it requires extra force to shove it all in, only to come all back out like a memory sponge. His tormented thoughts on y/n could be compared to a dramatic inner monologue, very similar to how Romeo feels about his Juliet. But, soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and y/n is the sun. Harry has the play on his book shelf (the one with the side-to-side modern English translation because he was never quite gifted in the English department) and as he reaches for a bandana to tie his hair back, he finds himself resonating with a particular line: parting is such a sweet sorrow.
There was no need to change any of his clothing, since he was already dressed in one of his more impromptu outfits; grey sweats and a white t-shirt that read ‘women are smarter’ in black across his chest. He tied the red bandana into a knot at the back of his head, and lifted it over his chin so that it settled on his forehead, sweeping his hair back with a final push back. It doesn’t get in his way when he crouches to clean his various tables, spraying cleaning products with his shirt pulled over his nose, another organic product that’s supposed to be less harmful and smells like cinnamon and sandalwood. His shoulder blades begin to ache because he’s being a little more aggressive than he has to be, but the green tiles were sparkling so he was content.
He washes the dishes, mops the kitchen floor, vacuums the carpets, cleans Owen’s habitat, and tidies the mail that piled up on the table when he finally calls it quits. Scouring his brain for something to do, to keep him busy- his brain��busy, Harry settles on the floor with his back to the edge of his bed. He’s shirtless now, and is in need of another shower but he’d rather not because he knows he might end up crying over the possibility that he’s scared y/n off. There’s a book in his hands and a Frank Ocean record playing softly in the background that mentions something about ‘I've been thinkin' 'bout you, do you think about me still?’ and it’s not helping his case at all.
It’s no use.
There’s a plague of darkness buzzing like cicadas in his ears. He fears rejection and criticism. That maybe, she was only pretending in order to make the situation more pleasant so it ended sooner. Most of all, he feared that it would always be this way. That he would never find someone who embraces who he is as a person. Always met with mean side-eye glances or second looks of displeasure and confusion. It isn’t always that way, though, because then that would mean he gets absolutely no action, and that isn’t true.
Harry is very… well-educated in matters that concerned sexual intercourse, but it was always a one-night stand ordeal. It was never ‘I really like you we should go out sometime’. In fact, he noticed that only time his approaches were well received were those in which he was dressed in a calmer manner. Simple, solid colors with sneakers or a t-shirt. Girls would flirt back, make good conversation, allow him to buy them a few drinks, and when he’d take them to his apartment they’d ask why he lived on top of a flower-shop, and if it was his sister or female-friend’s palace that he was crashing. Sex would ensue, but his heart wouldn’t be as present and engaged as he wanted it to be.
Wrong. It was always so fucking wrong, and God, if he didn’t get out of this apartment he’s going to breakdown and cry and there’s no one to call to come over because Mitch is on a trip with his girlfriend, Sarah, and his other friend Jeff is on his honeymoon in Sweden. They were the only two on his mental speed dial list during the rare occasions he had a crisis, as they were the two that Harry had ever really opened up to. Mitch was a bit closer to his heart. They’ve known each other since their school days and practically grew up together (at one point they had small crushes on each other, which were confessed years down the line). Jeff was the owner of Winsome where… where y/n had mentioned spending her last twenty dollar bill. He didn’t have an issue opening up to them. He liked opening up to them, but he didn’t understand why they were the only two that ever truly opened their arms to him.
A walk, he decided, would help him… air out his brain. Calm down. Breathe a little deeper, a little easier.
He threw his white shirt back on, and a forest green sweatshirt that donned the emblem of the school he went to earn his business degree that fit him wide around the shoulders and felt like a marshmallow. Putting on a pair of beat up shoes, he shoved his keys into his pocket, hobbling and nearly losing his balance because he was moving way too fast. The door closed behind him with a slam, and even though he was still wearing the bandana around his head, wispy stray curls framing his face in a wild mane, his distress palpable through his appearance, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to get out and feel the cool air against his skin.
There’s a backdoor behind the stairs that will take him to a small alleyway that leads to a back parking lot where other shop owners that live at the top of their stores on the same side of his street parked their cars. He unlocks it from the inside, and throws his shoulder into it, desperate to her out. When it shuts behind him, he doesn’t turn back because it’s the kind to lock from the outside when closed. His fingers curl into the ends of his sleeve so that the tips of his fingers (nails now changed to a sparkling silver color) are the only parts of his hands visible.
Rounding the corner, he whistled the cheeriest tune he can muster. His lips are puckered and his cheekbones high with the extension of his mouth. He’s not very happy on the inside, though he remembers reading something somewhere that if you pretend to be something long enough, you’ll eventually become it. If he pretends to be happy, then he’ll actually be happy.
Right?
Harry rounds the corner of the parking lot and turns on to the main street. It’s only two in the afternoon, so there's people crawling in and out of shops anywhere. He even sees a man and a woman peeking into the window of his store, and he would feel bad if he wasn’t in a shitty mood already. He’s so out of it, that he nearly yells ‘get your hands off my windows!’. He doesn’t though, because for a moment the woman becomes y/n and the man becomes him, wrapping a ringed hand around her waist and whispering in her downy ear ‘they’re closed, darling, let’s go somewhere else’ and she straightens dejectedly, pouting playfully and standing up and her tippy toes so that she could press a quick kiss to his lips.
That image fades though, and the couple continues with their stroll, hand in hand, and his heart is wrenching, writhing and trying to yank itself free from it’s place in his chest because it hurts too much to stay.
Cars whizz past, and he skirts in and out of people on the sidewalk, keeping his pace fast and focused. There’s no intended destination, he’s just moving with the intent to forget the pretty girl who haunts him. Her voice is all he can hear. Her smile is all she can picture. And the rest of her is all he can imagine, which is exactly what hurts the most. Imagination only goes so far, fulfils so much with uncertainty of what the truth was and what wasn’t. Harry could imagine her with her feet up on the lip of a bubble filled tub, a glass of wine in her hands, but then…what kind of wine did she like? Or did she even like wine? And did she even have a bathtub to stretch out in after a long day?
He curses the crimes he may have committed in past lives to deserve this torture. This unbearable pain that felt like he was being dunked in a slow-acting acid. He can do nothing about it but keep walking with labored will power. He passed his shop, and a bakery and a small thrift store that sells used clothing for way too much money. At the propped open double-doors of Jeff’s Winsome, he decides to talk in and browse. There’s so many items that smell good and taste good, that it was fun to just walk in and look.
“Back again so soon, H?”
Spinning on his heel, Harry comes face to face with Niall, a brunette, fit, Irish bloke with a chummy smile and a killer sense of humor. The two have brokered a sort of friendship, considering the amount of time (and money) that Harry spends there. Niall has even started calling him ‘H’ in silent homage to his flower shop.
“Y’know I can’t stay away,” Harry attempted to joke, his lips pulling up in a weak smile, “plus, I think I needed s’more of the peppermint essential oils f’my diffuser.”
“‘Course ya do! You're worse than the bloody vegan mums that come in asking for gluten free baby powder!” Niall cups a hand over his mouth and loudly whispers to so that only Harry catches his verbiage. There was a woman in the back of the store, looking through soaps in the limited kid’s section, the same exact kind that Niall was speaking about. “Go on and look around then, I’ll be here when you’re finished.” He said.
Harry only nodded his acknowledgement, and moved in between wooden walnut shelves. The entire store had a caramel brown color scheme, with only the inventory adding color to it. Macramé potted succulents and plants added to the natural, outdoorsy feel. Winsome had an interesting mix of smells from all of the aromatherapy based products it housed, but it only added to the appeal.
Currently, he held a packet of four lip balms that advertised to be ‘100% all naturally derived ingredients with no artificial additives' infused with ‘healing power of crystals’, two of them ‘citrine cherry' flavored, and the remaining ‘garnet guava’. The brand name is something in Italian that he can’t read, packaging thick and a triangle made of arrows in the corner signaling it can be decomposed and/or recycled. He had the same exact ones at home, only they were all misplaced and-
“Harry?”
A small, timid voice called his name from behind him, and he froze. He knew that voice. It was the same one he had repeated over and over in his head for the past week, waiting for her promised arrival with a hopeful heart.
His eyes go wide with recognition, body still and stiff like a deer caught in headlights. His heart begins to rump at a furious speed, loud in his ears like a million stampeding hooves. The packaged products in his hands shake, and then she speaks again, “Harry, is that you?”
Is this really happening right now? He’s embarrassed at having been caught with lipstick in his hands of all things, but he can’t put them back now. It was too late for that. He lets them hang at his side, and turns around. He hopes there isn’t perspiration dripping from his temples because all of a sudden he wants to yank his sweater off.
Harry turned, slowly. He feared that if he moved too fast she would fly away like a startled dove.
“Y/n…” He’s breathless, but he manages a pitiful quirk of the corner of his mouth, which he licks over right after, “hi.”
She’s wearing a dress this time, frilly at the hem which fell just above her knees. It’s pink and covered and lined with blood red trim at her forearms. A string of pearls glistens at the base of her throat, and her lips are covered in a sheen of lipstick. Her hair, however, is a tousled mess, pieces of it framing her face and untucked from her bun as if she had been jostling around. Her cheeks are flushed with the cold, and clearly that thin beige cardigan hanging off her elbows is doing nothing to keep her warm.
Y/n smiles at him, with the same shakiness, “f-for a second I thought I was talking to the wrong p-person.”
It’s quiet again, and they’re both fidgeting. Y/n’s knees knock together as she shifts her weight from foot to food, and Harry idly rubs his finger under his nose and sniffs boogies that aren’t there. She’s staring at the ground and rocking back and forth on her heels and he can’t think of anything to say because he’s so paralyzed by the fact that she’s actually standing in front of him, and looks as gorgeous as ever. Had he somehow manifested her presence?
While she’s hiking up the ends of her sweater so that they’re situated properly on her shoulders, he says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Aren’t y’cold?”
Her head snaps up and she peeks at him from under her lashes while flattening a hand at her thigh, “a little bit.”
Harry watches her tuck her hair behind her ears and wonders if she came walking from her apartment again. In the cold. Dress as she was. Not that he had a problem with the way that she was dressed! He understood that sometimes when people grew bored they used the smallest occasions to dress up and have some fun and get out of their homes. He did it too, sometimes. To clear his head. Hell, isn’t that what he was doing now?
“D’you need a ride home?” He stumbled over his tongue to backtrack, not wanting her to think that he was a wierdo or anything like that, “t-that is if y’walking, I wouldn’t want you to get sick or anything like that. S’bit chilly out today.”
Y/n smiles shyly at him, a blush on the highest points of her cheeks, and rubs the side of her face against the fabric of her cardigan, “thank you, for the offer, but uhm… it’s my friend’s baby-shower-gender-reveal thing today and I came with my other friend to some last minute gifts and some flowers. I was going to buy some stuff from here because she’s crazy about the whole ‘no preservatives’ and all but, and I was also going to stop by your shop to buy some flowers, but I saw you were closed so I…I’m rambling again.” She sputtered out the last bit, and pressed the tips of her three middle fingers to her lips to stop the words from coming out.
Harry smirked at her antics, but it’s more of a repressed smile, and the rest of his humor gleamed in the sea-glass of his eyes like a message in a bottle.
“S’alright, love.” He’s still holding the lip balms in his hand, and he can feel the moisture that’s collecting on his palms dampening the Kraft like material as he gestured to her dress with the tip of his chin. “Y’wearing pink. I take it y’want the baby to be a girl?”
“Actually, I know it’s a girl. She told me,” y/n pips, shrugging smugly.
Harry laughs at her this time, “Did you finish with all your purchases here? I can make an exception and open up f’you.”
“Oh, Harry, I don’t wanna bother you! Because if this was your day off then-”
He lifts a hand to get her to stop, and uses the opportunity to twist around and put back what he had in his hands. The conversation is flowing so smoothly now, that all of his previous worries are gone. He can only focus on her and the way her eyelashes fluttered and the crystalline sparkly in her voice.
“Y/n, it’s fine. D’ya finish here? We can head over to the shop now if you’d like.” Harry points a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the door.
“Uh, no. I just got here so I still have to go grab some things,” she said, pushing her hair past her ears again. He thinks that she can probably tell the disheveled state her hair was in, because she begins to pop off a pin in her hair to readjust it. He doesn’t mind it, though. He thinks she looks cute. Angel-like.
He nods, rolling his hands into fists within his sleeves so that the cuffs hang over his knuckles, and tries not to trip over his legs as he backs away. “A’right. I’ll wait f’you in the front, then. Take y’time, love.”
“‘Kay,” she gleams at him, biting down on her bottom lip, and Harry turns away fully before he starts whining about how cute she is or before there’s a dent in the heather grey fabric of his sweatpants.
At the front, Niall has his chin at the palm of his hand, and as he gets closer, Harry lifts his head to see that the brunette is wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. There's a shit-eating grin on his face that clearly points to a mountain of teasing in the near distance.
“A little love-struck, mate?” He said, as soon as Harry was within hearing distance. At least he had the decency to keep his voice down, he thought.
Harry flips him off, “oh, bug off.”
Silver glitter sparkling on his nails, and his gaze strays to the floor, bashful of how clear his affection was. He turns to rest his bum against the counter and pulls out his phone to appear busy as he waits for y/n, mindlessly opening Instagram to have something to do (and to stop him from glancing at her ever two seconds).
“Yup. I knew it. Have y’asked her out yet?” Niall doesn’t stop to let Harry refute his question, “y’know she comes in sometimes, after stopping by your place? And she just will not stop talking about how nice yeh were to her.”
Harry’s head snaps up from his screen so fast, something at the back of his neck creaks with the force. Instagram is long forgotten.
“What? Are you fuckin’ with me right now?” He doesn’t mean for his words to come as aggressive as they do, but the thought of her speaking to someone else about him is… well, it’s thrilling.
Alarmed, Niall’s hands come up near his face in the motion of surrender, “no, man! Dead serious. Think she likes yeh, honestly.”
He can only say: “Fuck me.”
Niall is about to respond when a quiet voice breaks their stares, “I’m all finished.”
“Already, babe? I’ll rig ya up, then!”
He’s quick to slide the few products over the scanning square, and y/n and Harry stand beside each other silently, their height difference laughable. Niall’s gaze flickered between them with no commentary, and his lips pucker with a wiggling smile when he finally announces her total. A bit too much for a small changing blanket, oatmeal-based baby lotion, pacifiers with a lavender infused towel attached to ‘aid with goodnight night’s sleep’, and a bamboo hairbrush with a tuft of soft bristles.
Nonetheless, she provides the money with a pleasant smile. Harry can see a bit of tightness around her eyes that suggests discomfort, but he doesn’t say anything. Niall hands her a paper bag with her purchase, “there yeh go! Have a good day now, y/n! And be good, to Harry!”
Harry’s eyes widen at Niall’s last comment, and it takes every bit of self-restraint in him to not reach the other counter and whack him in the back of the head. Instead, he shakes and ducks his head in near shame.
Y/n, however, quips back with “I’ll be nice only if you’re nice,” and bumps her shoulder against his before walking towards the door, looking over her shoulder at Harry who’s smiling wide now, and trailing after her with no regard to Niall at all.
He shouts something after them about being rude lovebirds, but Harry doesn’t care. He’s floating after this heaven-sent like cartoon characters being led to a freshly baked pie with their nose on the scent. His rump high in the air like the Lorax disappearing into the light in the clouds, utterly ignorant to everything else.
When they’ve both stepped outside, they speak at the same time,
“Let me just-”
“Do y’wanna put-”
Harry and y/n giggle at each other,
“You go first.”
“Y’speak first.”
And then they laugh again. Harry pretends to zip his lips and throws away the key, and she says radiantly, “I’ll drop this off in my friend’s car really fast and we can walk to your flower shop.”
Watching her approach a car parked two spots away, a girl with blue, pink, and brown hair leans over to the passenger side, seat belt straining against her throat and when she sees Harry, she waves and it makes y/n push her back to her spot behind the driver’s side. Whoever this girl is, she and Niall have to meet, seeing as they can’t mind their own business. He chuckled and waved back, that girl laughing along with him and it made y/n cover her face with her cardigan covered hands.
“I’m sorry about Charlotte,” she said when she got back, “she doesn’t know how to mind her own.”
“A bit like Niall, it seems.” Harry said. He waits for her to catch up before beginning to walk down the street. Side to side, shoulder to shoulder. They’re so close, Harry can feel the warmth of her body heat through the fleece of his sweatshirt. It’s cold, and she’s still this warm?
“Maybe,” her eyebrows raise, and her head tilts towards him, “they should meet.”
“Tha’s exactly what I was thinkin’!” His voice rises with his excited agreement, and the tip of his nose wiggles as he scrunches his nose.
As they get closer, to H’s Garden, Harry reaches into his pocket for his keys, fingering through them so that they wouldn’t have to stand in the cold for so long. He didn’t want her to get sick.
“I’m sorry, Harry. I feel really bad about this,” she whispered beside him, looking up at him with doe eyes as she worried her lip between her teeth, the sheen of gloss adding an extra allure to her image at that moment. “It’s your day off, and I’m bugging you.”
They stood in front of the door now, underneath the green umbrella cover that extended from the top of the door and down the side of the window. Harry waited for her to step into the little alcove created by the indent of the door before stepping in after her and jiggling the key into the lock. He resisted the urge to pull his lips down into a cooing frown at the look on her face. She really was worried about disturbing him. If only she knew that he spent the entire day moping (and nearly crying) over her.
He sucked on his teeth, “oh, love, please worryin’ about it. Don’t wanna see that frown on y’pretty face anymore okay?” His confidence was slowly coming back, “s’not my day off, I just didn’t feel like speaking to customers today.”
Shrugging, he opened the door, and took a step back to allow her to step through first. Y/n ducked her head as she passed him with a murmured ‘oh, okay’, and he followed right after her, wanting to get away from the cold too because he knew that his nose was probably pink at that moment, but what he didn’t anticipate was for y/n to stop right after breaching the threshold, and bend over at the waist to pick something up from the floor, causing Harry to bump into her at such an awkwardly sexual angle with all of his momentum.
Considering he was half twisted away from her and in the middle of pulling out the key from it’s slot, the amount of force in Harry’s push from behind was enough to cause her to nearly fall forward, a surprised whimper slipping from her lips. Harry, determined not to see her fall, lets go of the key and reaches out just in time to grasp her hips on either side, pulling her back towards him mid-fall so that she doesn't collapse on her face.
However, in the midst of all of this Harry forgets himself and uses a bit too much force. Not to mention, the implications of their position makes him hyper aware of every single place their bodies touched, her small frame against his lithe, tattooed body.
This moment only lasts for a few seconds, but he can feel everything.
He can feel the easy give of the skin of her hips underneath each finger that touched her, the softness of the flesh on her thighs against his sturdy knees. The fabric of his sweatpants is suddenly non-existent, and it’s almost as if he felt every taught tendon of her legs, frozen with efforts of helping catch or brace herself. The heat of her groin is flush against his, and it makes him want to scream with a sudden sensitivity. Her ass is practically seated on him, full and malleable against the points of his laurel covered hip bones. Harry’s semi-hunched, as her weight also pushed him back, and the position is doing nothing to help his frenzied mind settle. He feels like shit because he’s being a horny, pubescent kid instead of asking her if she’s okay, but then y/n moves back into him to straighten fully and their centers grind. Her dress is semi-bunched at the halfway point of her bum, and he can feel heat emanating from her, radiating back on his bloating cock. He has to stifle a moan when she pushes herself up with the tips of her fingers.
Just as quickly as it started, it’s over. Y/n is dusting her bum off so that her dress falls and covers her modesty, and she’s beet red in the face, not looking at him. Which was fine by him, he was too ashamed to look into her eyes.
He clears his throat (something he’s doing a lot around her) and asks if she’s okay.
“Yes. Yes, I’m okay. This was on the floor,” she squeaked, holding up a neon yellow notice sheet in her hand. That damned thing was what caused all of this?
It’s a notice from the delivery men that said, ‘sorry! We missed you!’ with a time and date messily scrawled on the dotted lines. Harry had forgotten that he was getting a shipment of several plants that morning.
Cursing, he takes it from her, “t-thank you. Now how ‘bout those flowers?”
It’s awkward, obviously, but y/n is severely silent. Harry’s still stuffy in his pants, but he ignores it and doesn’t add any fuel to the fire because there’s more pressing matters at hand than a boner. Y/n is the most quiet she’s ever been around him, considering all of her word vomits and ramblings, and he’s suffering. Definitely beating himself up in his head for having ruined the moment. He held onto her for a second too long, frozen. She must feel so embarrassed, and he was self-endulging like a fucking asshole.
Harry asks her questions on what flowers she’d like, and she answers by pointing or bringing a stem to him, laying it on the counter without a word. A mixture of dahlias and baby’s breath with a handful of feverfew to make the pink in the dahlia’s stand out. He lays them out on his work table, cutting the ends at an angle where they need to be cutted and laying them out on a sheet of clear, dusty rose paper. Three packets of flower food are strewn at the corner, and y/n busies herself by fidgeting with them. He grows concerned when he makes a comment on the kinds of ribbons he had stored and she doesn’t say anything. Not even a nod or a hum.
Eventually, he decides he’s had enough of her neglect, and pauses his work to devote her some attention.
“Love, I’m sorry about what happened,” he said softly, trying to catch her eyes, “I know it probably made y’uncomfortable, and I didn’t do much to make the situation better, but I just didn’t wanna see y’fall.”
Y/n’s head is already dipped, so he can’t see her face, but when her shoulders begin to shake, he knows he’s utterly fucked. She starts to sniffle, and his eyes go wide. The paper crinkled as he set down the baby’s breath he’s holding in his hands. He hates seeing people cry, not because he didn’t know how to deal with it, but because he often ended up crying along with them. Also, he just didn’t want to see her cry. Harry wanted her to be happy, glowing, and smiling. Not dull with dollops of woeful distress in liquid form.
He rounds the corner and spares a look out to the street, wanting to make sure that there is no strange onlooker eavesdropping on their interaction. His hand reaches out to stroke her back or shoulder comfortingly, but he thinks better of it and drops his arm. She most likely would not like to be touched, considering what just happened between them. He drops his head, seeking face-to-face interaction, and speaks as gently as he can, “y/n, what’s wrong?”
She avoids his search, and turns the other way while sniffling, “you probably think I’m weird now or something after that.”
“No!” Harry exclaimed, jerking his head back as if he’d been struck, and her words practically had. He can’t believe that she would think that and even go as far as verbalizing her thoughts when he worshipped the ground she walked on and didn’t even know her that well, yet. “No, no. I don’t think that. Y’tripped, that’s all. Happens to everyone. If anythin’ I’m the weirdo for grabbin’ y’the way I did, and I’m really sorry about it.”
Y/n dig the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, “that was so embarrassing, I should’ve told you I was gonna stop or something. I always embarrass myself in front of cute boys and I never know what to do. I just-”
Harry interrupts before she can dig herself further another hole. He highlights a segment of her words, dropping everything else in hopes of changing the conversation and taking her discomfort away, and mostly because he was bursting with relief and happiness. She had said that she thought he was cute, just how he thought that she was adorable, and nice, and everything good. They were on the same level, their minds in sync. Did that mean…
His voice is airy and light because of what she had just admitted, “y’think I’m cute?”
She stills with awareness of what she’s just said, and a puppy-like noise seeps from the back of the throat before her hands sink further into her eyes, embarrassed. Harry tenderly wraps his fingers around her small wrists and pulls her hands away from her face, murmuring about ‘don’t rub y’eyes anymore, love, y’gonna hurt’ with nothing but kindness. A millisecond of distraction speeds through his mind at the softness on the inside of her wrists.
There’s a trickle of blubbering in her part, her bitten lips bumping against each other as she attempts to backtrack, “I mean- I- I-”
Harry decides that it’s now or never. It was a bit inconvenient, perhaps, but with her revelation his confidence soared and he was more prepared now to ask than he ever had been. So, he goes for it, “can I have y’number?”
A moment of semi-uncomfortable silence as the unknown tips the scale. Would she say yes? Would she say no? His head was spinning and he hoped his nose didn’t start bleeding or something because y/n nods slowly, smiling, and then, “okay.”
He’s elated. He was the polar opposite of what he had been that morning. If only Owen could see him then. He doesn’t waste any time reaching into his back pocket and handing her his unlocked phone. They don’t share any words, only coy glances and flirty quirks of the lips as the tips of her fingers move on his screen. Harry can’t believe that he’s finally getting her number, after nearly a month of pinning.
When she’s finished, she clicks it off and sets it next to him with an added pat to the back of his suspiciously clean white phone case while he’s tying the flowers together with a loose rubber band at the ends to attach the food packets. He’s fine with working in silence now that she's not crying anymore. He throws occasional glances in her direction, and catches her watching his hands while fiddling with her own. Her brows were furrowed and her mouth was twitching.
“Will you text me?” She asked him.
He’s careful not to bruise any of the petals as he sets them down again, pausing with his ministrations to pick up his phone. He wiggles his eyebrows at her and types a quick ‘Hi. It’s Harry :)’. He hits send, “until you’re sick of me.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” She shakes her head, and Harry’s reminded Rachel McAdams in The Notebook while she’s in complete denial of her feelings for Noah. The comparison makes his heart flutter, considering the romance of the onscreen couple. “How much do I owe you?”
Harry waves her off, “it’s on the house.” She begins to argue, but Harry stops her before she starts rambling again, “y’better go or you’ll be late, love.” He holds out the arrangement to her, tufts of baby’s breath poking out from between the vibrant dahlias like fluffy clouds, the feverfew looking like miniature white daisies in the center.
She looks at it, and back at him before huffing, “fine, but you’ll have to let me return the favor.”
“Of course,” he smirks, “with dinner, maybe?”
They’re both gleaming at each other now, “okay.” Y/n takes a step back, her body half twisted as she walks away, but it remains like that for a moment as her eyes rake him up and down, a murmur following, “bye, Harry.”
His veins charge with electricity, and his dark taffy lips part at her actions. Had she just checked him out? He doesn’t recover quick enough to return her goodbye because the previous swirl of arousal in his navel was bristling back to life at the implications of that look. Calm, slow, steady, and her eyes remained doe-like and innocent.
She had to have known exactly what she was doing, whispering his name the way she had, looking over her shoulder and under her eyelashes the way she did. Deviously provoking his thoughts to begin a new with a reinspired fervor. The space in his underwear was growing tighter by the second, a blissful ache swelling.
Before any other customer stepped in after her, Harry locked the door, and jogged up the stairs to prepare himself a nice, hot bath, simultaneously cursing and thanking the stupid fucking delivery men.
********
Harry can’t stop thinking.
Obviously, this is a huge issue for him. He was constantly thinking, and well, who wasn’t? The process of thoughts wisping around in his brain was one that he often put an unnecessary amount of energy into because he had no one to filter these thoughts onto, releasing them through a conversation to prevent the exhaustion of his brain and heart. A prime example of these mishaps being the depressing slump that occupied his demeanor that very morning.
This?
This was different.
As soon as the apartment door was shut behind him, Harry pulled the suffocating sweatshirt off of his upper body, fingers hooking in at the collar and yanking it off with a swift tug. It landed somewhere on his kitchen floor, and he didn’t stop to take note of its final destination. Instead, his legs instinctively took him to his bathroom.
Chest heaving, Harry walked to the small window leaking sunlight and rolled the stick between his fingers to close the blinds. His thumb dipped into the waistband of his boxes and dragged them down lopsidedly, the tiger tattoo roaring as it became exposed. When the blinds are fully closed, the white extension clangs against the shutters from his aggressive release. His body was slowly being consumed by a raging fire stoked by the illicit images his brain conjured of the innocent, unsuspecting y/n.
His inner turmoil consisted of guilt for using her image that way and justification from the conspiring rake of her eyes along the upper half of him that was visible behind the counter. He was so fixated by her, that her look alone felt like a tempting caress along his skin. And it all happened in a matter of fucking seconds. That’s how gone he was. That’s how fucking gone he was. Harry guesses that the easy excitement also had to do with the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in a while (he only ever gets lucky when he goes out to the bars with Mitch or Jeff, and they’d been gone for a significant amount of time) and the strong affinity he had for the girl who bought flowers from him.
Explanation or not, he had to do something about the problem in his pants. He was painfully hard, and when he shucked his pants off fully, his underwear dragged with the movement and pressed against the tip of his swollen prick. A darkened patch of moisture bloomed where the head was, and he saw stars at the short pressure. He wouldn’t take his pants off just then, though. He liked to stall his pleasure as much as he could so that when he finally did cum, his stomach muscles contracted and his toes remained curled for more than ten seconds.
He twisted the golden knobs of his tub so that the water would come rushing out at a borderline scalding temperature, and opened the small cabinet above the toilet for a bottle of almond and coconut shea butter bubbles. He uncapped it and bent over the edge of the tip, the cool, porcelain lip touching his crotch and provoking a choked whimper to leave him. Jerking his hips back, he poured the soapy liquid into the spot where the water cascaded, and retracted his hand when the beginning of froth formed along the surface.
The heady sweet smell permeated the air with the rising levels of bubbles, and Harry couldn’t wait any longer. Because he liked to torture himself, he closed his eyes and slowly dragged the hell of his hand over the outline of his cock, a groan ripping though the silence. It’s so painfully good, that he does it one more time, and he jolts forward. He removes his hand, slips his thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers, and lugs the fabric down his hips at an excruciatingly slow pace. The head of his member smearing precum all along as he moves and when he gets caught in the ripples of his boxers the muscles in his thighs flex at the ripple of pleasure that zips into his nerves.
“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. His mind was a spinning vintage reel of slideshow images of y/n. Y/n on bruised knees, her mouth wide open and her own drool on her tits, the tip of his cock flat on her tongue as she pleads with weepy eyes for him to cum down her throat. When he finally springs free of his underwear, a hefty slap rings out as his dick collides against his abdomen, right on the space underneath his belly button.
There’s a stripe of liquid on the trail left by the mushroom head of his prick, and Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head, throat straining as he hovers over the bathtub. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever been this hard over a girl before, and it’s driving him crazy. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to last as long as he usually does. As he swings a leg over the edge of the tub, the hot water encasing his calf, he’s thinking about how soft she is. The inside of her wrist and the palm of her hand. If she’s that soft on an external part of her body that’s used everyday, he can only wither away at the idea of what the inside of her thighs feel like.
Bubbles are swarming up now, swathing his thighs and buttocks as he sinks into the sloshing water. When he’s completely seated and satisfied with the belly-button level of water, he clumsily throws a hand in the direction of the knobs to shut them off, and reclined his head against the curved end of the tub with his eyes shut.
He hikes up his knees so that they’re resting against the porcelain walls, and mindlessly ruts up into the water at the filthy images he’s picturing, white foam collecting in sparse clouds over the math on his chest. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. It’s as if his body is being transported back to the moment his hips clashed with y/n’s. At the recollection, his mouth drops and his eyebrows pinch in a silent moan. The feel of her flesh underneath his fingertips has him bobbing in the water, and the next ideation has him gripping the base of his cock.
Vividly, he pictured her on all fours, keening back onto him as her pussy enveloped him in warmth, a warmth that is almost replicated by the temperature of the water, dripping and making a mess of him but what’s turning him on most of all is the easy flushness of their bodies. He had felt the way her bum gave way under his hold, and he imagined the bounce of her flesh as he thrusted into her.
He moaned a broken call of her name with his eyes still shut, and heard the trickling of water as his fist rolled up his stiff prick, squeezing at the tip so that a few more droplets of precum dribbled out. With his thumb, he rubbed over the red mushroom head and lathered it in slow, leisurely circles, a throb pulsating with the beat of his heart as he returned to flicking his wrist over himself.
The way that he looked at him and the sound of his name on her lips seared into his memory. Airy and willowy, similar to it resonated in his brain with the fantasy of sinking into her for the first time, stretching her and having her preen and arch with desperate whimpers of his name for more. Harry considered himself to be ‘well-endowed’ and his size was a factor of what sent him careening over the edge as girls mewled over his size after he’d bottomed out. He wanted y/n to mewl under him, both of them falling apart at the seams at the mutual pleasures because if Harry’s this broken over just the thought of her, then he’s sure he’s going to lose himself beyond recognition after he’s buried himself into her velvety walls, slick with her arousal and so fucking warm.
Just as she had been earlier that day. There had been two layers between them- the fabric of Harry’s pants and her panties- yet, he was still able to feel an immense heat from the apex of her thighs against his cock. He needed more than this. He needed her, not just his hand driving him closer to the edge.
His jaw clenched as he bit back on a particularly loud moan, for no reason other than he enjoyed self-sabotage from time to time, and the speed of his jerking hand increased. His other hand gripped the side of the tub, and his legs flexed as he began to thrust up into his own fist, a trail of bubbles sticking to the tanned muscles. The cut rectangles of muscles of his abdomen glistened like freshly chopped cubes of apricot with the droplets of water that remained clinging to him. His breath came in labored, strained puffs as the palm of his hand twisted, tightening at the tip and loosening at the base.
For a moment, he paused and cupped his balls, massaging them as the fantasy in his head continued. His mouth wrapping around y/n’s nipples, her eyes glazed over from previous orgasm that he wanted so badly to give her. She’d whine something soft and quiet to match her personality, ‘please, Harry, please I want more. Need another Harry, please’, and he’d speed up the movement of his hips, driving deep into her and cooing into her ear about, ‘c’mon, darling. Give m’another then. Y’want it so bad, yeah? Give me a’fucking ‘nother’, and she’d release a peircing moan that explodes in his eardrums while arching into him. She’d squeeze impossible tight around him, gushing with her own cum.
The water in Harry’s tub sloshes around his ankles, and the muscles of his abdomen clench so that he’s closing in on himself, sputtering on an outrageously loud cry that he can’t contain and his hand increases the speed of his filthy ministrations because he’s right on the edge. He’s about to fucking cum and the back of his eyelids burns with the possible variances of y/n’s face in ecstasy provided by him with his nose deep in her cunt, lapping at the sweet honey that spills with every whimper of, ‘please let me cum, Harry. I’ll do anything, I’ll be good, please let me cum.
He tensed violently, his face contorted painfully as white ropes spurt from the tip of his cock over his fist and onto his chest, blending with the white almond foam. His feet are braced against the edge of the tub and his head falls back and his stomach tenses even further, the final leaks of his cum dribbling out.
With the fuzziness that comes after an orgasm, his body melts back into the water that’s still warm, and his jerks with a pant as he allows his softening prick to sink into the water. The head on his hair is matted in a chocolate smear across his forehead, and his lips are a raging heart of cherry blossoms, parted with arduous gasps of recovery breath. His hands fall into the water at his sides, and with the lapping movement of the liquid against his sensitive member, he ruts into nothing again.
Reclined with his eyes closed and heartbeat slowing, Harry murmurs a final, “fuck me,” at the extreme sensations that had raked through his body.
Somewhere in the muffled distance, his phone dings with the notification of a text message, and with a tired noise of resentment, he sits up and reaches for his sweatpants that lay in a messy puddle besides the tub. His fingers drip darkening spots onto the grey material as he rummages for his phone, and then he finally clicks it on...
It’s her name, lighting up his screen, and the text reads:
y/n <3 : so… dinner?
Harry doesn’t think he’s ever crushed on a girl this hard before because even though he’s just completely physically spent himself, there’s something stirring in the depths of his tummy just at seeing the heart she put next to her name.
He couldn’t be happier.
* * * * * *
and here he is!! what do you guys think?? pls pls pls leave your feedback in my askbox! i’d love to hear your thoughts! and if you really really loved it, don’t be afraid to press that reblog button <3333
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best friend's father Levi + him picking his daughter and you up from a party and railing you in the car after his daughter passed out in the backseat. make it dirty please, like really dirty. degradation, rough sex, spanking, pussy slapping
Welcome Home
Summary: You'd spent years silently pining over your best friend's irritatingly hot dad. Everything he did left you completely breathless. So when you return home from Uni for the holidays with new, cocky confidence, Levi decides to put you back in your place.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, age gap, vomit, choking, spanking, dacryphilia, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, heavy degradation, rough sex, overstimulation, hard dom Levi, car sex.
Word Count: 4.2K
A/N: why yes of course anon! this was such a fun request I won't lie. I had way too much fun with this hehehe
I hope this is what you had in mind ^-^
MINORS DNI 18+
Since leaving for college, nights out with your friends had become a rare occurrence. You’d all scattered across the country, pursuing different careers and degrees, and free time was a luxury.
Arrangements had to be made months in advance, so when all your old friends said they could make it back home for the Christmas Holidays, you all made as many plans as you could before everyone dispersed again. This night was one such plan.
You hadn’t seen your best friend in roughly two years, probably since you both bid each other a teary farewell when you’d stopped by the Ackerman household on your way to Uni. She’d burst through her front door, carrying what looked like a birthday’s worth of leaving presents, crying about how much she was going to miss you. And seeing her cry? Well that just started you off as well.
You both laughed at the memories you had together since you were little, leaning against your car and going through old printed photos of birthday parties. It was only then you looked up to see your best friend’s dad leaning against the door, arms folded across his chest as he watched the two of you. Or rather… just you.
There was no way you could deny how devilishly good-looking he was. Raven black hair, piercing silver eyes and a glare that made you squirm. Your heart jumped as he walked toward you both, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you looked away. Blood slowly filled your flushing face as he stood squarely in front of you, your heart beating like a freight train. You swore you could detect a hint of mischief in his otherwise blank face as he took out a neatly wrapped gift from behind his back. It was only small, enough to fit in his back pocket, but you took it graciously, smiling a little shyly and uttering a small thank you.
You were never this openly submissive with anyone else, and you told your friend it was simply because her dad scared the shit out of you. A half truth. It wasn’t Levi Ackerman that scared you. It was the way you’d always leave your friend’s house with soaking underwear simply from the way he looked at you. It was the way you’d blush whenever he gave you a flatly delivered compliment, or the way your breathing would hitch in your throat whenever he brushed past you.
The feeling only worsened when you actually made it to college and unpacked your things. You’d opened the small gift and almost passed out when you saw the small, baby pink vibrator with a hand written note.
‘You’re not subtle. Come back soon. L.’
You had to take a good half an hour to calm down, and even then whenever you looked at the gift you could do nothing against the torrent of butterflies in your stomach, making it difficult to breathe.
So when Mr. Ackerman offered to pick the two of you up tonight, you’d accepted a little too quickly, silently thanking whoever you needed to that your best friend was unbelievably oblivious when it came to this kind of thing.
“No, no Rose it’s this way, no… ohmygod Rose I’m not above picking you up, come on,” you weren’t exactly sober, but your best friend had drank way, way too much tonight. She turned back to you, eyes lighting up as she saw you.
“(Y/NNNNN)!!! You’re baaaaaaaaaack, how -hic- howlong have u been here?” she asked, slurring her words as she stumbled back over to where you were trying to go. Slingling her arm around your shoulder, you took this as the perfect opportunity to steer her to the car park, trying to hold her up so she didn’t trip over her feet. You sincerely regretted wearing the stupid heels currently making it difficult to walk. The street wasn’t exactly smooth concrete, and you’d stumbled more than a few times in the cracks and crevices of the pavement.
“I’ve been home for the last two days Rosie, we’ve been… oh nevermind,” you rolled your eyes fondly, scanning the car park for the familiar black Merc. You couldn’t quite believe your best friend had gotten herself so utterly plastered, the thought only further exaggerated by the way she had to stop you and brace herself on a nearby brick wall. You rushed to her side as she bent over at the waist and began hurling her guts up. The world was still a little crooked for you as you held back her hair, trying not to gag at the sight and smell, her wet retching churning your insides. You were so fucking glad you hadn’t drank too much.
“Are you fucking serious?” you yelped, stumbling in your heels as the baritone voice of Mr. Ackerman cut through the disgusting gags of his daughter. Your words died in your throat as you locked eyes, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable in your short, skin tight dress. The v-cut dipping just low enough into your cleavage that the tip of your lacy, strapless bra peaked out provocatively. Gathering back your composure, you flashed him a smile.
“She drank too much, but I don’t think the strobe lights or the stench of alcohol helped either,” since when were you so confident around him? You felt almost completely in control of the situation, which was incredibly rare around Mr. Ackerman, since you were always flustered beyond belief.
You guessed college really did change you.
Levi quirked a thin brow, clearly noting your shift in usual demeanor, but you couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, because his face immediately dropped to a scowl when his daughter triumphantly raised her head again.
“‘M okay! M’okay. Oh h-hic-hey dad!” Rose tumbled from your grasp towards her disapproving father, who did nothing but hold out a hand to steady her. You only just managed to suppress a chuckle at his look of disdain, smirking slightly to yourself as he guided her back to his car, briefly throwing a look over his shoulder back at you.
“Gonna stand there all night or you coming?” you raised your head almost in challenge, before striding forwards after the two of them. Yes, you’d certainly changed.
Levi’s head was an absolute mess. Fuck you were different. Fuck you looked so fucking hot. Smooth, heel clad legs extending from that ridiculously short dress, only just covering your perky ass, curves accentuated by the material barely concealing your breasts. Makeup tailored perfectly to exaggerate your already beautiful features, eyes sparkling in the low light, and the way you carried yourself…
You looked like a fucking wet dream. And Levi could hardly stand it. It was taking every fibre of self restraint not to pin you against the car door and give you what you’ve clearly been wanting for a very, very long time. He wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen the way you’d look at him. The way you’d undress him with your eyes, fucking him slowly with those (E/C) irises. If you’d just paid a little more attention, you’d have noticed he looked at you the same way.
The two of you managed to somehow strap Rose into the backseat, securing her before she slumped over, unconscious. You breathed a laugh, and it was only now Levi realised how close you were, arm pressing against his during the struggle to help his daughter.
Minding your head, you stood up straight again, turning to meet his pinning gaze.
“You’ve changed.” Levi was the first to speak, eyes glancing over your face to properly drink in your appearance.
“I suppose I have, yes,” you replied, your tone slightly breathless as he stepped dangerously close. You swore you could smell the mint and tea on his breath as his hand came up to gently tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
“You’re more confident,” He leaned up to murmur into your ear, sending shivers down your spine and heat in your core.
“I suppose I am, yes.” you smirked slightly, despite those oh-so familiar butterflies once again erupting within your stomach. Your breath hitched in your throat as that same hand softly trailed down to your neck, lightly squeezing your throat and drawing a small gasp from you. All and any dominance was violently chucked out the window as your eyes fluttered closed, your walls fluttering as the pressure around your jugular increased.
“Get in the car.” he growled, leaving a sharp bite on your earlobe before releasing you completely and you drew in a sharp breath. You used the short journey to the passenger’s side to try to calm yourself. Damp had already begun to soak your skimpy underwear, and you tried to clamp your thighs against the increasing arousal. Sliding into the passenger's seat, you sent a quick glance back to your best friend, still knocked out cold and now resting against the window. You guessed Levi must have readjusted her.
You watched out of the corner of your eye as the man slid in beside you, jerking the keys into the ignition as the car rumbled to life, small lights and symbols illuminating his face in a gentle, red glow. You cleared your throat slightly as he pulled out of the car park.
“Thank you for picking us up, Mr. Ackerman.” your voice was sweet as honey, airy arousal dripping from your tone as your eyes freely wandered about his side profile. His prominent Adam's apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel a little harder. He shifted in his seat, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You’d never had this much fun riling him up before.
“Tch, how many times Brat? Call me Levi,” you couldn’t tell whether it was because the title turned him on, or because he simply preferred being called his name. You wanted nothing more than to provoke him further, your mind racing with all of your options.
“Ah, I’m sorry Sir– Levi.” you deliberately stumbled over your words, glancing away submissively as he turned to look at you, slightly wide eyed.
Levi grit his teeth, his jaw tensing as he turned to focus on the road. Though his ever hardening cock was proving difficult to ignore, and he hated the way it twitched at your tone. You were definitely doing this deliberately, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it because if he was being honest?
He didn’t want you to stop.
“How’s college?” he asked, hoping to take his mind off the subtle pleasure with each gear change, his length brushing against the constraints of his slacks.
You sighed a little dreamily, turning to look out the window and into the darkness beyond.
“It’s good. A lot of work. Doesn’t give me much time for…” you trailed off, internally grinning as you pretended to get lost in thought, prompting another question.
“For?” his voice had dropped an octave, causing your thighs to once again squeeze. Levi’s perceptive gaze noticed the small movement, a smirk now pulling at his lips. He was affecting you back? Good. Though your newfound confidence was a huge turn on, he had missed the way you used to shy away from his stare. The way you would shrivel beneath his touch. You’d been far too cocky for his liking.
Time to put you back in your place.
“Oh, you know. Not much time for… fun.” you hadn’t noticed the switch that had been flipped in the ravenette, too focused on trying to rile him up and get him back for all those years you’d spent flustered by him. You were almost too distracted to even hear his next query.
“No. I don’t know. Elaborate.” you balked slightly, whipping your head to look at his still annoyingly blank expression. Fuck, this hadn’t gone to plan. You felt eighteen again, panicking under his beautifully sharp eyes. Your clammy hands began to fidget nervously as you fiddled with the hem of your dress.
“O-oh, just like, you know,” –you cleared your throat– “Like, fun, as in, uh, w-with someone-” a warm hand on your bare high cut you off, a broken gasp flying from your lips as a huffed chuckle rumbled from within Levi’s chest.
“You mean like this?” your head fell back against the headrest as his hand travelled further up your thigh, pushing your already short dress up to your hip and exposing your embarrassingly damp underwear. Your legs twitched as the pads of his fingers gently rubbed your clothed clit, mouth falling open in silent moans when he gently circled them against the apex of your thighs. “Tch, look at you, fucking needy whore. Already soaked at just the sight of me. Fuck, this was really how you left my house everytime?” you wanted to deny it. Wanted to fight back somehow, but your mind had already submitted to the sparks of pleasure he was creating, feuling your hungry arousal.
Levi pushed apart your lacy pants, harshly pinching your clit, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger as you cried out at the sudden assault of euphoria, hips bucking into his hand. You whined when he pulled his hand away, only to jolt as you received two sharp slaps to your needy cunt.
“F-fuck!” you breathed, reaching up to grasp the back of your seat. The rhythmic clicking of the indicator brought you back down from your cloud, looking out the windscreen to see Levi pulling over into a bay on the side of the road. The engine died as he twisted the key in the ignition, his full attention now on you as his hand returned to you folds, palm rubbing your pussy in that same circular motion as his fingers. You bucked your hips again, staggered yelps slipping past your plush lips as you received another three slaps to your clit, each harder than the last.
“Such a fucking slut, getting off on her best friend’s dad. How long have you looked at me like that hmm?” his poisonous tone only added fuel to the flames, You couldn’t answer, too caught up in your pleasure to think coherently. That was until a hand fisted through your hair, turning your head to look into his blown pupils. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling, pain sending shocks of pleasure through your system.
“Fucking answer me,” he snarled dangerously, his other hand coming up from your aching cunt to gently caress the side of your face, a stark contrast to his tone.
“Y-years,” you managed to stutter, earning yourself a dark, lust-filled smirk from the man you’d pined over for so long.
“Tch, I know, whore. You use my gift much? I bet you do, mewling and whimpering like a bitch in heat as you fuck yourself alone in your room. I bet you imagine me there, hmm? Imagine my fingers in your needy cunt? My cock filling you up? Am I correct?” he yanked on your hair again, a clear prompt for you to answer.
“Y-yes,”
“Yes what?”
“Y-yes, I think of you.”
“Think of me when, slut?” heat flooded your cheeks as his fingers returned to rub your sensitive pearl, your eyes once again fluttering shut until another three slaps to your folds had them flying open again. “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you. When do you think of me?” tears lined your eyes as you panted in his grasp.
“When I-I’m fucking myself, al-alone in my room,” you whimpered, trying to keep eye contact as his soft fingers restarted their ministrations. Pleasure coursed through your veins as you tried your best to answer all his questions.
“Good girl. You’ll address me as Sir, understood? You seemed to like that a moment ago, pathetic whore,” a broken cry escaped your mouth as his digits sunk into your warm, wet folds, scissoring you open and crooking his fingers up inside you. You didn’t know how he’d found your g-stop so quickly, but it wasn’t a thought you were in any state to entertain for long as you writhed against the leather seat, breathy moans steadily streaming from your throat.
White hot pleasure surged through your system as you started to approach your high, Levi’s fingers curling effortlessly against your velvety cavern. A low groan reached your ears as he pictured those gummy walls clamping down on his cock, the imagery enough to make him dazed with arousal.
“S-sir… haah, a-aah, p-please… I, I’m gonna come, f-fuck, Sir I’m gonna come…!” you warned as your hips started to roll against his fingers, grinding your clit against his palm, wanting to throw yourself head first into the ocean of gratification. You were so close, so fucking close. All you needed was a small push. High pitched whines and gasps filled the car’s interior as you started to shake and twist.
Until that blinding orgasm was mercilessly ripped away, Levi removed his fingers from your cunt and his hand from your hair. You slumped back, disappointment creating a cold void in the pit of your stomach as you caught your breath.
“Tch, not yet. Or maybe not at all. That all depends on you,” you watched through a heavy lidded gaze as he shifted his seat as far back as he could, still somehow mindful of your best friend, his daughter, still in the car. You felt guilty for a microsecond, before Levi’s dark gaze prevented any further thoughts from forming. You scrambled over the console when he patted his lap, guiding you to sit with your back against his chest. His aching cock pressed deliciously against your ass and you couldn’t help grinding down on his crotch. Your skin pricked as a low, hungry groan reached your ears. A small smile pulled at your lips as you continued to grind against his length, swirling your hips in the same circular motions as his hands previously. Speaking of those hands; the back of your head met his shoulder as you lolled back, knuckles wrapping back around your throat, gently milking euphoria into your already flaming bloodstream.
“So. Fucking. Needy.” Levi punctuated every word with a squeeze of his hand, nails roughly digging into your skin as he started to massage your breasts, shoving his unoccupied palm down into your lacy bra and roughly kneading the pebbled mounds. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to be a good little cocksleeve and sit on my dick. If you move or come without my permission, I will spank your pretty little ass until you can’t sit down for the next week, got it?” although part of you wanted that punishment, you nodded all the same, whimpering as he squeezed around your neck again. “Good.” with one hand, Levi briefly lifted you off his lap whilst the other quickly yanked on his zipper, navigating his painfully hard length from within the fabric constraints. A breath of relief grazed your nape as he freed himself, pushing up your dress to pull down your own underwear. Levi’s eyes widened slightly as he saw what you’d chosen to wear, mouth watering at the erotic sight of the thin fabric leaving nothing to the imagination. His lips pulled in a coy smirk as he shoved them down, delivering a harsh slap to the cheek of your ass.
You were half way through moving to help pull your pants down when the electric pain shocked your system, causing your hips to buck wildly into nothing, a high pitched mewl penetrating the air between you. Rough hands grasped your waist, bruising the red tinted skin as he slowly sheathed himself between your tight, sodden walls. Your satisfied groans danced together as his gravelly voice melded with your own, Levi tugged you back flush against his front, once again his hand finding your throat as he held you still, preventing you from moving.
A single tear slipped out the corner of your eye, trailing dark mascara down the side of your now made-up face as you sat and yearned for friction. You tensed around his cock, earning yourself a barely audible moan from the raven haired man behind you. Another slap to your clit, another groan from your throat.
“The fuck did I say? Are you so fucking needy you can’t even follow simple instructions? So fucking desperate for my cock?” without much warning, Levi sunk his hand into your hair and shoved you forward, the new angle had his tip rubbing against your already abused g-spot, prompting a sob to wrack from your chest, your hands braced against the steering wheel. Still, Levi refused to move, content to let you become a quivering mess. Maybe this would teach you not to be so fucking cocky.
“P-please, Sir, I’m sorry, I– fuck, I’m sorry,” you pleaded, your juices now leaking down onto his lip, staining his slacks a shade darker. Levi seemed to accept your apology, pulling out until only the head of his dick was barely grazing your folds, before harshly thrusting back in. The pace was brutal as he fucked you hard from behind, hair still gathered in his fist, his other hand braced on your hip as the sound of skin slapping skin filled the rocking car, your juices coating his raging length. You were so sensitive after his fingers, wanton cries of ecstasy freely burning your throat as your nails dug into the leather of the wheel.
“So fucking tight. Been saving yourself for me, hm? I doubt– shit, I doubt any frat boys could fuck you like this. My little cumslut,” sweat beaded on his brow, raven bangs sticking to his head as the humidity of the air only worsened with every shattering thrust. You once again couldn’t answer him, still caught up in your pleasure as he continued to pound into your aching cunt without mercy.
Using the grip in your hair, Levi tugged you back against him again, snarling viscously into your ear, his pace never faltering. “I asked you a fucking question whore, answer me,” a broken scream emptied from your chest as you nodded, gasping for breath.
“Y-yes… fuck, yes! Been– ngh, AAH, been saving myself f-for you S-Sir,” you groaned the title, eyes seeing stars as his hand shifted from your hair back to your throat. His indecisiveness had your mind spinning, not knowing where he wanted his leverage. Your vision tunneled as his hand tightened its grip and you knew you wouldn’t last long like this. “Haah… aah… nghaah… FUCK, S-sir please, pleasepleaseplease…! Let me… HA-AAAH, let me come, please!” you begged for permission, hands flying up to intertwine with his ebony locks, drawing a low, heated growl from his throat. You couldn’t see his silver eyes roll back into his skull as you pulled on his hair, Levi’s thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his own high, desperate to feel you clamp around his silky cock.
“Shit, come then, fucking come on my dick like the slut you are,” he spat, fingers shooting down to roughly spank and rub your sensitive clit.
That was all you needed to push you over the edge into utter bliss. A ragged scream tore from your raw throat as your orgasm pumped through your veins, nerves alight with a pleasure you’d never felt before. Your legs began to shake as Levi continued to roughly pummel your g-spot, dragging out your high into overstimulation.
“That’s it, keep taking it, keep– oh fuck, keep taking my cock. Sucking me in so fucking deep, f-fuck! Gonna come so fucking hard inside you. Shit…! Oh fuck!” with a few more sloppy thrusts, every muscle in Levi’s body tensed as he released his load, painting your walls white with his creamy cum. His hips flexed, mouth falling open with a long, satisfied groan, his length continuing to pulse with pleasure as he spilled ropes of his essence into your tight hole.
You collapsed back into him as you both came down from your highs, occasionally shuddering with the aftershocks of your orgasms.
“Christ…” you swore, running a hand through your sweat slicked hair. A rumbling chuckle vibrated through your spine as Levi found amusement in your state.
“Not quite, just me. Close though,” you giggled, gasping quietly as he pulled out, shivering when his cum steadily trickled out your cunt and onto his slacks. “Hmm, I’ll plug that up later. Are you alright? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asked, gently caressing your bare arm as you turned back to look into his concerned eyes, a smile pulling at your lips.
“Not at all, I’m fine. Great, even. I’ve never come that hard before,” you grinned a little bashfully, cheeks flushing as you noticed the fogged windows. A caress of his hand against your cheek brought your gaze back to his. You’d never seen him look so soft.
“You and me both sweetheart,” you bit your lip at the endearing nickname, before he leaned into your ear. “But I meant what I said. You better not be too tired, because I am far from done with you,” you squirmed slightly at his tone, shifting back into the passenger’s seat and placing your hand over his on your bare thigh. Levi threw you a coy smirk before twisting the keys in the ignition again.
You could hardly wait until you got home.
#aot x you#captain levi#levi#levi ackerman x you#levi aot#levi attack on titan#levi x reader#levi x y/n#levi x you#snk levi#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman smut#aot requests#levi imagine#snk x reader#snk x you#aot oneshots#aot x y/n#levi one shot#levi smut#aot smut#aot fanfiction#snk smut#snk x y/n#essa’s requests
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You're Rich And I'm Wishing You Could Be My Master, Yum
Authors Note: This is the first part of my collab series with @tsundere-cherry-girl I'm sorry this took me so long to get out as I really was excited for this piece and wanted to ensure it was perfect before sharing it with you all! I will now be working on requests! enjoy our dilf king Toji, blessup.
* cw : 18+ minors dni, Daddy kink, age gap, and anxiety attacks
Word count: 14.7k
College wasn't something you enjoyed, in fact you loathed it. There was something about autumn winds and winter snow storms that no longer brought along the warm fuzzy feeling that they would have when you were younger. Now, the snow storm that had passed through overnight only reminded you of how far you were going to have to walk to your next class in the freezing cold.
You pulled your coat closer to your body, the cream corduroy acting as a soft barrier against the freezing air. Boots shuffling through the layered snow as you made your way through the peninsula of covered sidewalk, dead leaves that had fallen to the snow being kicked up; rising to the air quickly before falling onto the ice again.
Despite the fact that throughout your childhood you dreamed of college - a way to escape the bouts of teenage immaturity and transition to adulthood - a couple of years to have to yourself. But you couldn't help but be fucking irritated by the constant parties and think-with-their-dick boys who approached you after class, pawing at you and calling you sweet names with their whiny voices that pricked your ears like an icepick.
Outside of the constant nagging from boys, you did have your friends: friends that would call you in the middle of the night to ask if you wanted to go to the dorm next to yours and go party, friends that slipped you the answers to your History teacher’s exam because Mr. Yaga was a fucker who didn’t care if you passed or failed.
Outside of school ruining your life, you had your friends and your friend group was interesting to say the least: there was Megumi, your best friend, who would approach every situation with the least amount of worry - no matter how unprepared he might be and always end up fine in the end. Then there was Itadori, who was late to every single class, a head full of dishelved hair that would shake in shame as your professor scolded him for the upteenth time that week. And then there was Nobara, who was your roommate but spent more time out with at parties than actually in the dorm. Thankfully, all four of you had become close throughout the first hellish year of college, being there for one another when need be.
It was finals week, your schedule was filled to the brim with studying and back to back classes that would determine your grades for the end of the semester. Long nights in the main library and in your dorm resulted in early coffees and shaking fingers as you worked out the answers to your exams.
You hurried to your last class, holding your textbooks and folders closer to your chest, boots skipping up the steps to the door, black letters on the textured glass read ‘Professor Nanami’.
Once inside, you hurried to your seat next to Megumi who was rereading some of his notes, his head turning to you when you sat down and began to pull out your notes randomly.
“Are you serious?” Megumi asked, deadpanning at your mess of scrambled notes and chicken scratched papers.
You gave him a sheepish smile before pointing a finger at him, “Hey! I made it before Itadori, and that’s saying something!”
Megumi chuckled lightly and went back to his notes, highlighting a few things “So… have you decided whether or not you're gonna stay at my place for winter break?”
Your eyes widened. Shit! you forgot about that!
“Uhm… are you sure you’re okay with me coming, I don’t wanna feel like I’m intruding on your break, let alone your family.” You clicked your pen nervously and bit the plush of your bottom lip.
Megumi gave a fake look of shock “No, you’re all good, I want you to come!” he reassured and then went back to writing.
You thought it over for a second, eyes dashing from the scattered and scribbled papers on the table and back to Megumi “Then I’ll go, it sounds exciting!” You smiled widely and Megumi nodded, opening his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by your professor, clapping loudly from the desk at the bottom of the auditorium.
“Alright, as you all know this is your final for the semester, determining whether or not you’ll pass my class.” he took a moment to shuffle the stack of papers, collecting them together. “Do your best, and once you’re finished, you’re free to go.”
You took a deep breath, calming your nerves.
Your professor walked up and down the carpeted steps, placing blank tests down and continuing down the aisle to the next row of students.
Your palms were clammy and your skin pricked with beads of sweat, your turtleneck began to stick to your soft skin.
The atmosphere of the classroom did nothing to relieve your stress, the humming of the heater causing a persistent ache in your head, pulling at the strings of your mind as you tried to think over all the information you had spent the past week and full 12 hours reviewing. A blank test was placed on your desk and you inhaled deeply, looking over the first question and picking up your pencil before circling ‘A’.
Walking out the door and into the snow, books held to your chest, you turned to Megumi before heading in the direction of your dorm.
“So what time are you planning on leaving?” You asked, jutting your hip out to stand more comfortably, snow crunching under your heavy fur boots.
Megumi always stood so perfectly still, even when talking - when you had first became friends it was off putting, making you think he was uncomfortable in your presence, only when the two of you became closer - basically best friends, did u realize that Megumi did some pretty odd things, that being one of them.
“I was gonna head up around like eightish maybe?” Megumi looked up to the sky as though he were in deep thought,” I can drive us both if you want.” He offered, hand gesturing to you.
You shook your head and placed a mittened hand out to stop him, “No, it’s okay, you can just drop by my dorm once you’re ready and I can follow you.” You smiled.
Megumi nodded and then looked away towards his dorm.
“Alright, well, make sure you pack for at least a week and half’s stay, wouldn’t want you to not have something to wear.” he joked, kicking the ground a bit, dragging his shoes through the snow aimlessly as if he were drawing something.
You shook your head and laughed, “I will,” you sighed deeply and clicked your tongue, your shoulders falling gently, “well, I gotta get going, I’ll see you at eight then?” you began to walk backwards, the snow squealing under your boots.
“On the dot.” Megumi concluded and turned, walking through the deep snow on his way back to his dorm.
The next morning when you woke you felt refreshed, your face felt soft and your muscles were relaxed, little to no cramps as the contrast to how the week of finals had treated your body - the overwhelming stress not giving you a minute to relax.
You took a shower and got dressed, putting on your favorite fur jacket over a hoodie along with a pair of baggy jeans. You took one final look in the mirror before checking your suitcase once more, making sure you had everything packed.
Toothbrush, check. Hairbrush, check. Tampons, check. Phone charger, check…
You continued down the checklist of items, failing to hear Nobara enter the room. She had a coffee and muffin in one hand and her purple-bubble thick cased phone in the other.
“Oh, you’re leaving?” she quirked an eyebrow, clearly wanting you to elaborate on where you were going. Nobara was always like that, she felt like more of an aunt at times than an actual friend.
You turned your head to look at her, “Don’t get too excited now, I’ll be back when school starts up again.” You smiled and turned back to your open bag.
Nobara didn't say anything, opting to take a small bite out of the muffin and a sip from the straw of her drink before swallowing loudly.
“A-are you going to your parents place?” She still stood in the hallway, leaned against the wall, she bent over a tad as she continued to look at you, eyebrow pulled into a tight arch.
You stopped zipping your suitcase up to take a deep breath, voice becoming stuck in your throat and tears building up in your downcast eyes.
“N-no, uhm actually,” You cleared your throat, shaking your head slightly, “I’m actually going out of town to stay with Megumi, he invited me to stay with his family for break.” you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and placed it onto the ground, pulling the handle all the way up.
“Hey, you okay?” Nobara asked, walking up to you and chucking her phone onto her bed, the case causing the phone to bounce in the process.
You nodded and smiled, you knew she was looking out for you, aware of the issues you’d had with your father in the past, but that didn’t make the mere thought of your relationship with your father any easier to think about.
“Yeah, I’m okay, just nervous.” You gave a weak smile and grabbed your phone from your nightstand, slipping it into your coat pocket.
“Awh, you’ll have tons of fun, I’m sure Megumi will do a great job making you feel right at home!” She smiled and her hair shook as her head lifted in excitement.
You nodded again and smiled at her warmly, reaching to grab the handle of your bag, “Alright, well, I’m off - I’ll see you again soon.”
Nobara nodded and followed you out of the doorway. The two of you said your goodbyes and you made your way down the hall, fur boots clumping on the carpeted ground.
“Wait!” Nobara’s voice stopped you, making you turn to look at her, one hand in your coat pocket.
“What’s up?” You asked.
“You got everything? Like, all your girl stuff and everything?” she kept a hand on the door handle, the other on the wall.
You smiled at her and nodded, “Yeah, I've got everything.” You then waved to her and continued to make your way to the elevator.
Once outside you shivered as the wind hit your face, biting your skin as you made your way down the snow covered steps and onto the pavement. Megumi was waiting at the curb, leaning against his black Mercedes, dressed in a Louis Vuitton coat, arms crossed and looking to the side.
You always wondered where he got the money for all of the expensive things he bought: his cars, his shoes - being his best friend, you didn't feel comfortable asking, but now that you were being introduced to his family, you realized that the possibility of his family being just that rich never actually occurred to you.
“Hey Gumi!” You waved, pulling your suitcase through the snow behind you.
“Hey,” He turned to you and smiled, “You need help taking that to your car?” he asked, flipping his keys absentmindedly
“No, I'm all good, you wanna just meet me in the parking lot?” you gestured to the lot at the side of your dorm.
“Yeah sure.”
The ride to the cabin was fairly smooth, most of it being a fast trip on the freeway until you followed Megumi’s black Mercedes down an off ramp and into a new town.
You took the time at each stop light to look around, making note of the winter decorations parading the streets. The clouds covering the sky gave the town’s look a picturesque holiday aura to it.
Music played through your speakers as you followed Megumi throughout the town, the road soon became flat and desolate for a few miles before his car came to the start of a small trail.
The tires of your car grumbled over the gravel, rocking your car side to side as you drove down the pine covered road. The trees created an atmosphere that felt almost - in no other words to describe it - home.
You could see mountains to the left of you, sun glittering against the snow, you could smell the pine wafting through the ventilation of your car, relaxing your nerves and washing over your senses greedily.
The road seemed to go on forever, not that you were complaining, the surrounding forest made you feel as though you were stuck in a perfect place in time, nature in its purest form, no city lights, no roads, no cars, just the soothing smell of pine and the occasional cry from a bird.
Megumi’s car took a right and suddenly the ground became smoother, the rocks becoming a makeshift driveway where a Black Ford F150 was parked next to a tan Rolls Royce in front of cobblestone steps that lead up to the chestnut red door of the prodigious house you assumed was the “cabin” Megumi had told you about. The two of you obviously had different ideas of what a “cabin” was. This was a multi million dollar house at least, you wouldn't be surprised if his parents owned the place...scratch that. They definitely owned it.
Megumi parked his car next to the tan Rolls Royce and stepped out, walking over to your car. You rolled your window down to which he bent over and leaned his crossed arms against it, ducking his head to look at you.
“You can park next to my dad’s truck if you want.” He tilted his head and threw his thumb back to point at the giant F150.
“Okay, thankyou.” you let Megumi step back and rolled up your window before pulling into the parking spot.
You stepped out and went to the backseat of your car, pulling out your bag and your blanket before rounding the car to where Megumi was still removing his bags, two Louis Vuitton duffle bags were sat on the sanded down gravel, dirt already seeping into the leather and fabric.
“Your family knows I'm coming… right?” You chuckled nervously, watching Megumi continue to sift through the many expensive bags in his trunk.
“Of course, I’ve told them all about you. Trust me, they’ll adore you.”
You almost cried at that. What had Megumi told them? what if he was lying and they actually were just allowing you to stay out of pity, what if Megumi had actually told them something terrible about you and you weren’t even there to defend yourself.
You felt bad, knowing Megumi would never talk so horibily about you; The two of you were best friends. You just still couldn't help the metaphorical vomit that filled your brain to it’s brim, threatening to spill from your lips until you convinced Megumi you wanted to go home, spilled over until the words became tears because you couldn’t even fathom the idea of Megumi’s family not liking you.
“Are you ready to go?” Megumi stood with two duffle bags in one hand and another thrown over his shoulder.
Nodding, you let Megumi pass you and followed him up to the front of the red painted door. The wood had been furnished and was well kept, obviously polished regularly.
Megumi raised his fist and knocked on the peppermint red wood, a soft rapping filling your ears.
The door opened to reveal a young woman in red bottom snake heels and a cream sweater, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail.
“Hi ‘Gumi!” She smiled happily, her eyes squeezing shut as her arms crushed him in a tight hug before parting and looking him up and down. “My goodness, you’re so much taller than last time I saw you.” Megumi grumbled and she giggled, petting his shoulder lightly.
Suddenly she turned to you, “Oh hi! You must be y/n, Megumi has told me all about you.” She went to grab your mitten covered hands in her own, “Please come in, you must be freezing.” She stepped to the side and placed a hand on your back to guide you inside.
The three of you walked down the wood paneled hall, the walls were decorated with wreaths and cute accessories for the holidays.
“My name is Tsumiki by the way.” She smiled at you again, leading you into the living room, her heels clicking against the floor.
Once you entered the living room you immediately felt out of place - well, more than you felt already, if even possible; a flat screen TV sat was built into the flat wooden wall, a huge leather couch was placed in the middle of the room, double doors leading to a balcony were opened, the sound of birds and creaking wood echoing throughout the home.
The smell of sugar made you turn your head in the direction of what you assumed was the kitchen, the heaviness of it making you close your eyes and hum.
Tsumiki giggled, “I’m making a pie, it should be done before dinner if you two wanna go get settled down and unpack.”
Megumi nodded and took your arm in his hand, pulling you down the next hallway as you said a quick “Thankyou!” before you were out of range.
Megumi pulled you along to a crème covered carpet staircase, climbing the steps with one hand on the rail and the other still on your arm.
Once you made it upstairs, you came into another hallway; a chandelier illuminating the white thicket walls. Four doors were on either side of the hall leading to two large pearl French doors that sat at the very end.
“My dad’s room is the room at the end, Tsumiki sleeps in the room closest to the bathroom ‘cus she always has to pee, I usually take the room farthest from my dad’s just ‘cus.” Megumi informed you. You nodded at his words before it dawned on you that you would be the one sleeping closest to his dad - someone who you had yet to meet and someone who quite frankly, intimidated you.
“You can take the room I usually sleep in if you want.” Megumi tilted his head to see your nervous expression.
“No!” You cleared your throat, “It’s- it’s just, it doesn’t really matter to me, I’m fine either way.”
“M’kay.” Megumi walked to his door and opened it, standing outside until you entered your own, “I’ll get you when dinner’s ready.”
You nodded and walked into the bedroom, met with a king sized bed and glass panel door that led to a balcony. The walls were a grey color, decorated with simple objects and pictures of the surrounding mountains. The room smelled of lavender and vanilla, painting a clear picture of the woodland surrounding you.
Placing your suitcase onto the bed you began unpack; putting your folded clothes into the auburn dresser and closet, placing your shoes at the bottom of the wardrobe. Deciding to keep your toiletries in your room, you put them on the vanity seat beside the glass sliding door.
Once you had everything put away you grabbed your phone and sent a quick text to Nobara, informing her you’d made it, to which she replied with a ‘Good to hear, can’t wait for you to come back, miss you already! xoxo’
You smiled and put your phone down, getting ready to move some things around when a knock came from your door. You opened the heavy door to come face to face with Megumi who had changed into a navy sweatshirt.
“Dinner’s ready.” he informed you and you smiled, nodding as you followed him down the staircase and back through the hallways into the dining room. The walls were plastered with gold and black trim, decorating the thicket walls; a candled chandelier illuminated the room in a calm light.
“Hi there!” Tsumiki waved as she placed a basket of bread rolls onto the table, “you can sit wherever you’d like.” You took a seat next to Megumi, the cushioned chairs adding a soft touch to your nervousness.
As Tsumiki sat down she opened her mouth to ask a question when the sound of a door shutting made you jump, looking towards the hallway to see a tall raven haired man round the corner, dressed in tightly fit black shirt and baggy jeans, his timbs pounding the polished floors.
“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice immediately made your legs tense. It screamed authority and discipline - the voice of a parent, a father who was stern but rewarded good behavior. The man took a seat at the end of the table and looked at you, his eyebrow raising.
“Who’s this?” he didn't speak to you, opting to talk to his son.
Megumi took a bite of his food and looked at his father, rolling his eyes, “Her name is y/n, I told you she was coming.”
You felt almost helpless not being able to speak for yourself in front of the man of the house. You couldn't deny Megumi’s father was attractive, a part of you embarrassed that you couldn't even make eye contact with the man, afraid that if you did, he’d surely know you were crushing like a schoolgirl on the father of your best friend.
“Oh yeah, nice to meet you, y/n.” He nodded in acknowledgment and began eating.
Tsumiki made small talk, making sure to involve you in all the conversations: asking about your school work, which major you were studying, your plans for the future.
You answered each honestly, explaining why you were interested in your major, why you chose the same college Megumi attended and how you planned to succeed in the workplace you were working towards being in.
Toji had leaned back in his chair at some point, his arms folded beneath his head as he listened to you ramble on about how important school was and your eagerness to be introduced into an industry such as the one you were interested in. It was cute.
Tsumiki listened attentively, asking questions and nodding her head in agreeance whenever you said something. “That's really cool, y/n, I believe you’d be a good addition to any team that hired you, you’re a smart girl and a hardworking one at that.” Tsumiki interrupted herself to gasp lightly, turning to her father. “Come to think of it, dad, didn’t you do some work in that major?” she swallowed, “I could’ve sworn I remember you talking about it.”
You looked to Toji, only to meet his eyes and immediately look at your lap; he looked almost bored - eyes lidded and plump lips resting against each other, the pinkness of them only becoming a darker color, your eyes traced of the scar that was ingrained in his skin.
Toji laughed at your quick shift of focus, taking a hand out from behind his head to scratch at his chest, the fabric of his shirt sliding over his pecs as he did so. “It’s okay, kid. You can look at me - I don't bite.” you gulped at that, if there was any questioning of your attraction to the man, the way his biceps bulged at his shirt as he spoke assured that you were swooning for the older man.
“But, Yeah, I did.” He said flatley, watching you with squinted eyes. There was a moment of silence before Toji stuck his tongue into his cheek and looked down at his finished plate before moving his hands back down to the table resting his elbows against the cotton of the tablecloth.
“Gojou still working there?” He asked, reaching towards the glass cup of toothpicks and inserting one between his teeth.
You gulped sighly and nodded “Y-yeah, he is.” You felt as though you needed to speak with your head down - a primal dominance encouraging you to not make eye contact out of respect, his blue eyes pierced your own as he brought his tongue out to lick the scar on his lip.
You could’ve sworn you died right there and then; something about the oh-so-innocent yet so aware action he pulled by simply flicking his soft tongue along the line of the dark scar made your knees weak, your thighs squeezing together, your shoes toeing at each other nervously.
“He’s a dick.” Toji stated.
“Yeah-” you laughed a bit. “Yeah, he is.”
Once dinner was finished and you and Tsumiki had cleaned the china plates until your fingers pruned, scrubbing the soft sponge across the glass plates gently. When the plates were all put away, you fled to your room.
You had spent what had been at least thirty minutes with your soft hand between your legs, rubbing furiously at your clit, replaying the image of Toji sliding his tongue over the dark line of his scar - pretending it was your plush legs he was kissing instead.
A part of you wished he could hear you through the smokey colored walls, entertaining the idea that he was just as perverted as you, jacking himself off to your soft moans and imagining that he too wished he was with you too. The thoughts themselves brought you to an orgasm; pushing a satin pillow onto your face, you moaned, deep and shaikly, feeling your stomach tighten.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming.” You wined, rubbing circles around the small bundle of nerves until your legs tensed and chills ran down your spine when your orgasm washed over you.
You pulled the pillow off your face to inhale deeply, pulling your fingers from between your legs, looking at your soaked fingers, embarrassment flooding your body as you stared at the proof of how long you had been jacking it to your best friend's dad.
A wash of realization hit your brain when you remembered where you were, whose house you were in and who was sleeping in the rooms on either side of you.
Oh god. You slapped your hand to your forehead, immiedialtey praying to god that your wishes for Toji to hear your soft moans and supple sighs hadn’t been answered.
Getting out of the tall bed, your feet hit the cold floor and you shivered, padding your way to the door of your room, you stepped out and made your way into the bathroom across the hall.
Once inside, you washed your hands, lathering a generous amount of foamed soap that read ‘Winter Candy Apple’ and was wrapped in a sparkly red plastic that slid against your fingers as you sat the bottle back down onto the granite countertop.
Toji was laid back against the expensive furs of his queen bed, fisting his cock furiously to the sound of your moans, sweat beading in small drops on his firm chest.
“Gah -fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” he threw his head back, his hair sprawling behind his head and he hissed, cum spurting onto his hand and abdomen.
“Ohhhh shiiit.” he groaned, voice shaky.
Toji pnated in the mess of blankets and crumpled satin sheets, staring up at the cream colored ceiling, chest heaving.
His blue eyes tracing the iron lines of the gray barn liam chandelier, Toji felt dirty, jerking his dick to his son's best friend. He scoffed, “what the hell?” Toji took another shaky breath and ran his hands over his face before sitting up and pulling his boxers up over his waist and walking into his adjoined bathroom.
The fluorescent lights created a flaxen glow against the white walls and black mineral countertop. Grabbing a small towel from beneath the counter he placed it under the sink’s faucet and wiped down his abdomen, sighing as he chucked the soiled towel into the hamper and walking back into his bedroom.
Toji walked to his dresser and pulled out a white tshirt before heading to the door that connected his bedroom to the hallway.
Walking out into the hall Toji scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the carpeted floor, his eyes tired and adjusting to the dark of the hallway when suddenly something - someone bumped into his chest making him reach his hands out to steady the person he hit.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” You whisper yelled and gripped onto his forearms.
Toji squinted to see your features outlined in the dark, “Oh, hey kid, what’re you doin’ up?” He took his hands off your shoulders and yawned dramatically, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.
“Sorry, I just needed to use the restroom.” you told him, eyes meeting his sapphire ones.
He nodded, “You wanna come downstairs? I’m gonna get some coffee.” Toji walked past you.
You listened to the stairs creak as he made his way down the steps, “yes!” you whispered yelled again, being met with a light chuckle from the bottom of the steps.
Following Toji throughout the massive cabin you reached the kitchen where Toji had you sit at the bar. He stood at the opposite side of the island, pouring a pot that had been put out by Tsumiki earlier than night, aware of her father’s habit to wake up and come to the kitchen searching for something to drink and calm his nerves.
Your eyes followed Toji’s movements, his arms flexing as he placed the pot down and pulled out a packet of sugar, ripping the paper and pouring the bag into the cup before grabbing a spoon and mixing the drink together.
“You want something sweetie?” Toji placed the spoon into his mouth and looked up to meet your eyes.
Your face felt warm as you watched him gently suck on the spoon, “u-uhm, no, I’m okay, thank you.” You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin and stopping your knees.
Toji offered a slight ‘tch’ and walked towards the sliding glass door, pulling it open and stepping out onto the balcony, letting snow-chilled air fill the room.
You didn't know what to do, too nervous to ask if you could follow but too shy to stay behind and sit awkwardly until Megumi’s father decided to come back into the warmth of the cabin. Stepping off the bar stool you slipped on a pair of slippers you had left at the door and walked out onto the patio, making your way over to where Toji stood.
He was bent over the wooden terrace, leg crossed over another as he looked out at the moonlit forest. You walked up beside him and mimicked his position. He side eyed you and chuckled lightly, noticing the repeated movements of his own. He turned around and leaned his back against the terrace, wondering if you’d follow.
You stayed in Toji’s original position.
“It’s pretty right?” Toji stated, nodding his head towards the pine trees and snow covered ground.
You nodded and began to pick at the wood of the terrace, sniffling as the wind tickled goosebumps up your arms and legs. “It really is.”
Toji huffed in aggreence and turned back to lean on his forearms again, taking a sip of his coffee, the steam from the cup swirling in the air like a growing cloud of fire, eating away at the air in a grey mass.
Toji sensed your nervousness and laughed a bit before scooting closer to you and pointing towards a small tire swing, nearly covered completely by the snow, only a sliver of rusted rubber still visible. “When I was younger, around ten or eleven, I used to swing on that thing everytime my parents drove me up here, and broke my arm on it once too.” He laughed at the memory and took another sip.
You laughed and leaned over the ledge a tad as you tried to imagine Megumi’s father as anything but a father at sometime in his life. Fully believing that he’d been born a father and stayed that way for the past thirty-five years if he had told you that. Maybe he looked like Megumi… possibly Tsumiki, she has his nose-
“Megumi broke his arm on it too, I think it’s cursed.” He joked and you looked at him in question.
“Really? He never told me that.” you sounded disappointed, almost as if Megumi had hid something from you - logically, you knew he hadn’t but in the past thirty minutes, Toji had shared more memories of his own childhood with you than Megumi ever had in your three years of knowing him.
“Are you ready for ice skating tomorrow? There's a lake in the woods that we go down to every year.” he asked
You did remember Megumi mentioning a lake… now that you thought about it, you didn't have any skates.
“I don’t have any skates…”
“You can have a pair of Tsumiki’s, she’s got like six different colors.” He rolled his eyes at his daughter’s adoration for fancy colors and need for fashion.
You giggled at that to which Toji smiled. ‘I don't know how to skate either, haha.” you ran your hands up and down your arms trying to stay warm.
Toji lifted an eyebrow at that, adjusting to lean on his elbow that held the cup of now-cooled-down coffee. “You serious?” He took another sip.
You met his eyes for a split second before looking at the balcony terrace again, “Yeah.”
Toji gave a ‘hmph’ in surprise, tilting his head as he downed the rest of his coffee. “I’ll teach you.” he stated, giving you no room to refuse his offer.
“Okay.” you smiled.
The two of you entered the cabin a few minutes later and Toji sent you up to bed with a hug, following behind you as you made your way back up the stairs and into your room.
“Night, Mr. Fushiguro.” You stood in the doorway of your bedroom.
“Night, brat.” He smirked and waited for you to enter your room and shut the door before retreating to his own room and falling back onto the bed, eyes searching for something to focus on as he forced himself to sleep. His eyes decided on the iron of the chandelier again, tracing the intricate lines and candle holders as he fell asleep, the smell of your shampoo and memory of your moans filling his senses.
As you lay in bed, you stared at the ceiling; thinking of how you’d ask Tsumiki to borrow a pair of skis, what you’d wear, and how you’d have Megumi teach you how to ice skate without embarrassing yourself. Wait no. Toji was going to teach you. Your eyes slowly begin to close, your body sleep deprived and too exhausted from the long drive and late talk with Toji to question why he offered to teach you rather than have his son.
The next morning was far more relaxed than the evening before, you helped Tsumiki make breakfast, whisking eggs as Toji made his way into the kitchen.
“Well aren’t you two cute.” he teased and tousled his hair a bit.
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, “It’s almost done if you wanna get Megumi.” You said, choosing to watch the basking of the eggs rather than make eye contact with the taller man.
Toji laughed and walking over to the coffee pot you had refilled, pouring himself a cup of it and adding a packet of sugar. He made his way over to the bar and sat on one of the stools, his chin resting in his palms as we watched the two of you work.
He felt like he had a family back. It was a horrible thing, truly, to seek comfort in the young girl who Megumi had introduced as his friend. But Toji wanted you, and whatever Toji wanted, Toji fucking got.
A plate was placed in front of him by a pair of small hands, he looked at you and smiled, placing a hand on your head and scratching your scalp as he tousled your hair “Thanks.”
You nodded and went back to the other pre-made plates. You placed another next to Toji for Megumi.
Toji internally groaned, he wanted you to sit next to him.
“I’ll go get Megumi.” You left the kitchen and Tsumiki siad a quick ‘Okay!’ before turning to her father who was devouring the food you’d cooked.
Toji could feel his daughter’s eyes on him, looking up from his meal to stare blankly “What?”
Tsumiki rolled her eyes and turned back to her own plate of sugar covered pancakes, decorated with strawberries and whip cream. “I see the way you look at her dad. She’s in college and you’ve barely known her for a whole day!” She exclaimed.
Toji simply shrugged his shoulders at her input and continued to eat, taking another bite of eggs, “You’re gonna give her a pair of skates for when we go to the lake today.”
Tsumiki nodded and picked up her plate, walking past him to sit at the table, placing a hand on his shoulder “Dad.” she pleaded
Toji lifted an eyebrow “I’m not gonna do anything.” He put his hands in mock defense to which Tsumiki gave a ‘really?’ look at and sighed, walking over to the table and taking a seat.
Only a minute later you came down with a sleepy Megumi following behind, rubbing his eyes and tripping over his feet. “Morning.” he said groggily, taking the seat next to his dad and digging into his breakfast.
Toji ruffled his pointed hair and laughed as the raven strands bent for half a second and then bounced back up into their original place.
You sat at the table with Tsumiki, watching the quiet scene unfold, smiling warmly at the interaction. The father-son interaction brought you to think of your own father, your thoughts scrambling to find a moment in your life where he was as soft with you as Toji was with his own children.
“You guys excited to go skating later?” Toji turned in his chair, looking at you Tsumiki.
You nodded, mouth full. Wiping your mouth you nodded again, “I am, Mr. Fushiguro. I’m very excited.”
Toji’s heart warmed at your tired voice, feeling a little guilty for keeping you up outside in the cold for as long as he did. He crossed his arms over the back of the stool and watched you eat, “I can take y/n in my truck if you two wanna take the Royce.” Toji stated more than asked.
Megumi shrugged at that, not really caring who he went with but still concerned about how you’d feel being all alone with his father, He was fine with driving with his sister but Megumi knew his dad’s truck had enough seats for all of you. “y/n are you okay with that?” Megumi turned to you.
You felt embarrassed as all eyes were on you, “I’m okay with that.” you smiled at Megumi, slowly turning your head towards Toji, reassuring him with a smile.
He smirked and stepped off the stool, stretching his arms over his shoulders, his shirt riding up past his navel. “Alright, I’m gonna go get dressed.” he made his way through the kitchen and into the hall before turning back and looking at you “y/n, wear something warm ‘mkay?” He said and walked off.
Tsumiki rolled her eyes at his request “Don’t mind him, it’s just his dad shit telling him to be all parental, wear whatever you want.” She said.
You smiled at her before dragging your finger through the leftover whip cream on your plate, bringing your finger to your lips and sucking on it gently. It felt nice to be dotted on, to be worried about, to be worried about by a father. As you made your way to your room and got dressed, pulling on a hooded mink fur jacket, like Toji told you to do; You twirled in your mirror, picking up one foot cutely, watching the strings of your furry moon boots dangle.
A knock came from your door before Megumi entered the room, dressed in a luxury white fur coat, the hem running to his jean clad knees. “You almost ready? Tsumiki put your skis in my dad’s truck already, she guessed your size.” you laughed at that.
“I’m sure they’ll fit.” you picked up your phone and slipped it into your pocket and followed Megumi down the carpet steps. Once outside you stepped onto the gravel and over to Toji’s truck where he stood, resting against the tailgate with his arms crossed; the denim of his jacket stretching over the bulkiness of his arms - drool pooling in your mouth at the sight.
“You ready kid?” Toji stepped out, timbs crunching the gravel beneath him.
You nodded and watched Megumi walk past you and open the door to Royce, “We’ll meet you there right?” he said, hand on the door. Toji gave a thumbs up before walking up to your side of the truck; Tsumiki pulled out beside him as he did so.
“Be careful on the road, dad, she doesn't need to be subjected to your psychopathic driving skills.” She narrowed her eyes only to soften them when she saw you, “Don’t worry, baby, I’m sure he’ll keep you safe - something about Tsumiki’s insignificant promise that her father would protect you made your knees weak - It’s only about a thirty minute drive, we can get lunch after too.” She then left, wheels rumbling over the gravel as the car rounded the corner; Leaving you and Toji alone.
“C’mere baby,” He motioned for you. You walked up to the passenger side, Toji standing with the door open, hand on his hip. “You ready?” you nodded and he placed his hands on your hips, your smaller ones grasping his forearms in shock, placing you in the seat he then squeezed your thigh gently, “Good girl.” he shut the door.
You were gonna die right then and there. Jesus Christ you were going to die and Toji-Fucking-Fushiguro and his deep voice and big hands were going to be the reason Megumi would find you dead in the passanger seat of his father’s car.
The sound of the driver’s side door opening made you turn your head, watching Toji step into the truck with ease and push the start button, the car rumbling as it turned on and warm air ran over your skin. The contrast between the cold air and the heated car made you shiver.
The ride was silent as the truck rocked back and forth over larger rocks in the road, Toji had some music playing at you watched the mountain range, making note of how it must've snowed last night as there was visibily more white frosted trees and the mountain seemed to hide all the dark toothpick looking trees from across the valley.
“When I was younger, my dad took me up here with my friends,” he paused as you turned to him, waiting for him to continue in complex adoreness. Toji felt his hands grip the leather wheel with his left hand, his right folding into a fist on the compartment piece in between the two of you; his mind begging him, demanding him to reach out to you and hold you, hold your thigh, your hands, anything to touch you.
He cleared his throat and continued “I took his pickup out to go get drinks with my friends and slid on black ice, we jumped out in time but the truck went down this lil’ valley, thought I was gonna die.”
You felt your shoulders release - aware that Toji had survived since he was literally driving you down the same road he nearly died on before you were even born. But a part of you made you relieved to know that he hadn’t slipped down the icy mountain and met an evil demise brought to him by the reigns of teenage boy stupidity.
“You were okay though right?” your eyes wide with worry
Toji laughed at your shocked expression, the thought that you asked if he was okay, the thought that you were worried about him made his heart swell. He loved the way you made him feel and simuloutansley hated it. Knowing you’d almost never reciprocate the same feelings he had.
“Yeah honey, I was okay.” He ruffled your hair teasingly before grabbing the back of your hood and pulling it up and over your head, covering your eyes.
“Hey!” You moved the hood from your head and hit his arm, he jumped back and put his hands up in mock defense, laughing heartily.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He laughed and turned back to the road.
You gave a ‘Hmph’, crossing your arms dramatically.
A hand was placed on your thigh gently, squeezing at the plush of your thigh through your pants. Turning your head you met his eyes, the car slowing down, his focus now on you. Toji shifted a small bit, moving closer to you, his grip on your thigh growing tighter.
The air suddenly seemed thinner, your lungs scrambling to find breath in such a quiet and intimate moment. Your best friend's father had his hand holding your thigh, your best friend’s hot, older dad had his giant, rough hand holding your thigh - holding you.
You exhaled shakily, almost embarrassed to meet his eyes.
“Hey” placing the hand that was on your thigh to your cheek, stroking your cheek gently.
“Hi” you whispered, toji smiled at your voice, god he was whipped and he’d only known you for seventeen hours.
Leaning in, he watched your plump lips part, his face was so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You’re so pretty, baby.” he whispered, thumb coming up to rest on your bottom lip and pulling it downwards.
Heat went straight to your pussy, your thighs clenching together as toji brought his lips to your own. His hand went to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he ran his tongue over your teeth. You moaned into the kiss and brought a hand to his arm, rubbing his skin softly.
Toji groaned, pulling away from you and shifting the gear of the truck into park and reaching over you with both hands, cupping your face to his. Toji inhaled deeply through his nose, pulling apart to see a line of spit attaching your lips together.
“Fuck.” his eyes were lided and his lips were swollen and red “C’mere” he brought you into his lap himself, pushing the seat back so you’d have more room. Looking out the window you could see you were still on the trail, no other cars in sight. Your head was turned by Toji, grabbing your chin and leading you back to his lips.
Your lips met again, Toji’s hands coming to squeeze the flesh of your ass appreciatively. Moaning into the kiss you lowered your pelvis down to his prominent bulge, rutting against it gently. He hissed at the movement, breaking apart from you to look down between the two of you.
“Shiiit,” he sighed and went to run a hand through his hair, “can’t do that to me, I’m gotta fuck you, needa be inside you so bad baby.” placing his hand on the cup of your sex making you shiver.
“Toji please.” you closed your eyes, head tilting downwards slightly.
“Please what? C’mon use your words.” he smirked and ran his hands down the sides of your body, battered and roughed fingers caressing the soft-textured fur of your mink coat.
“Mhmm'' you whimpered, suddenly very aware of where you were and who you were with. Shying away, you backed away from him to rest on your thighs - still straddling Toji’s waist - you brought a finger to your lips, biting your soft skin and looking through the windows as if you were being watched. As if the trees and the birds and the deers and the clouds knew you were about to lose your virginity to your bestfriend’s fucking father.
“Hey, hey, what’s up munchkin?” Toji sat up, bringing you to his chest comfortingly - a parental instinct to protect - “m’ I movin’ too fast?” he asked, petting your head softly as you softly nodded into his chest.
“M’ sorry sweet girl'' Toji rubbed your back gently, letting you snuggle into his hold and hide yourself in the neck of his turtleneck, sniffling quietly. “Shh, no more tears, baby m sorry.” he cooed. The two of you sat in the car for a good while, the soft humming of the engine and Toji’s warm arms wrapped around your small body mixed with his soft words slowly lead you to sleep.
When you finally woke up you were met with a bright light, bringing a hand over your eyes to shield the sun away you saw Toji leaning over you slightly, working to unbuckle our seatbelt. “Hey sunshine.” he smiled.
“Hey…” you rubbed your eyes gently making him chuckle, “are we at the lake already?” you asked, looking from your seat in the truck, noticing you were in a small parking lot surrounded by forest.
“Sure are sweetcheeks, you wanna get out?” he backed away from the door and let you stumble out, knees still wobbly from being asleep. Toji steadied you and pressed a kiss to your forehead to which you hummed at and tilted your head back, puckering your lips for him. Toji chuckled and pressed a small peck to your lips.
He took your hand in his and walked you to the bed of the truck, picking you up and placing you onto the rubber mat of the bed and grabbing your (Tsumiki’s) pink skates.
Toji pulled off your moon boots and helped lace up your skates before putting you down, patting your head gently. Yawning, you watched him go back to the passenger seat of the truck and put your shoes underneath the seat before coming back to you.
“You ready lil lady?” he looked at you once and took your gloved hand in his, leading you to the rink where Megumi was skating backwards and talking to Tsumiki as she twirled lightly. Megumi saw you and waved, making you giggle and wave back with your free hand.
Toji walked you over to the entrance of the rink, stepping in and holding a hand out for you to aid you in walking to the frozen lake bed. You hesitated, watching Megumi and Tsumiki, they made it look so easy - but to someone who had never skated in their life, you were sure this was how you were to meet your end.
“C’mon baby, I’m not gonna letcha’ fall.” Toji urged, stepping a tad closer to you as reassurement.
“You promise?” you looked down at the ice and back to his face and then his hand.
“Yes, honey, I promise.” Toji’s face turned serious, eyebrows furrowing as you took his hand, helping you step down and grabbing your hip when your leg slipped a tad. You held onto him for dear life, the hood of your coat rubbing against his shoulder.
“It’s okay, kid” he laughed a little and stepped backwards, holding his other hand out for you to take, letting you follow him as he took small swerves backwards. “Easy, just like that - ooh, careful! Good girl.” Toji praised, allowing you to grow more confident as he only held one of your hands now, still skating backwards as he watched your footing. Praising you when you made a turn or caught yourself.
Tsumiki had stopped skating and was standing by the edge of the lake, watching her father and you skate together. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that her father was pinning you and that you were returning, said pinning with the intensity of a school girl crush.
Megumi made his way past her and slowed to watch the two of you, turning to her as his chest heaved slightly. “Why are you watching them?”
Tsumiki was taken aback by his question, taking her hands out and gesturing to the two of you - you had slipped and Toji had caught you, bringing you up to his chest to hold you, letting you rest against his body as he continued to skate backwards, allowing you to hold onto him as he did the work for both of you.
“They look like they’ve been dating for four years for christ’s sake!” She exclaimed, her ponytail swaying. Megumi looked between her and the two of you shrugging lightly before preparing himself to continue skating. “How can you just sit here and not be bothered by that?” she laughed airily.
Megumi sighed and tilted his head towards her, “If i’m being honest, i don't really care - she’s still my best friend, and like, yeah” he shrugged again, “It’s weird, but this is the happiest i’ve seen dad in years, not to mention, she seems happy too.” Megumi then looked down at his gloves, restrapping them before taking off to skate again.
Toji held you to his chest, skating slowly as you listened to his heartbeat through his shirt. The rhythmic sway of his movements slowly lulling you into a sleep again. “You still with me baby?” his voice startled you slightly, vibrating through his chest and tickling the side of your cheek making you giggle.
“Yeah,” you slurred and moved to get closer to him, legs still moving in sync with his to help him as the two of you skated around the lake. “You’re warm.” you snuzzled him.
“Oh yeah?” he pulled your face away from his chest to tilt your head upwards, “Well, you’re pretty.” he watched you turn away from him bashfully, earning a deep laugh from him. “Awh c’mere stinker,” he grabbed your face and turned you back to him, slowly stopping the two of you in the middle of the lake. “You really are pretty.” he said and you nodded, leaning up to kiss him.
Megumi watched the two of you holding each other, completely unaware of his presence in staring at the two of you. An odd feeling filled his chest, not one of anger or sadness but one of almost relief, relief he could see his father being happy. Relief for you, someone who always seemed to sell themselves short, someone who put others before themselves. It was interesting to see you and his father somehow grow closer in less than a full day than he had managed in twenty-two years of living in the same home as the gruff man.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by Tsumiki grabbing her brother by the arm, dragging him off the lake and onto the snow covered ground. “We’re gonna head into town and get some takeout, you guys wanna come?” She yelled.
Toji pulled away from your gaze to give her a thumbs up, “We’ll probably get something on the way back, don’t wait on us.”
You watched Tsumiki nod and return the thumbs up, walking with Megumi to the Royce and pulling out of the lot, gravel crumbling under the tires.
Toji sighed as he watched them get into the car, “Finally, gotcha’ all to myself.” He tucked his head to nuzzle your neck making you squeal and wiggle around in his arms. The two of you sat in silence for a small while, listening to the soft air and snapping of tree branches, the occasional bird crying. It was heavenly - you and Toji’s own little space among the battered and destroyed world.
Feeling yourself move forward, you open your eyes slowly to see Toji skating backwards gently, moving so quietly that he skates hardly made any noise against the frozen water. “Hey, you ready to go, baby?” there was that pet name again. That damn name that made your knees weak, an insignificant title that made you want to sink to your soft knees and devour his cock.
“Mhm” you hummed, following him as he made his way to the snow covered ground and pulled you up, helping you stand as he watched you sway tiredly - worn out from skating and probably talking the night before did not help any.
Once in the car, Toji had buckled you in and removed your skates, letting you sit cross legged on the heated leather seats. You watched Toji remove his own skates and put on his shoes before stepping into the car and reaching his hand out towards you. Heat rushed to your cheeks when your hands met, it was a simple act of love - one might even say domestic, and for a minute, yeah, you entertained the idea of being domestic with him. Of having a family with him. Of being his.
“You okay?” He asked and rubbed the skin of your knuckle with his thumb gently, putting the car in reverse with his other. Toji held your hand the rest of the drive, squeezing occasionally when you pointed something out.
“Okay, baby,” Toji parked in a shopping center and let you look around at the sea of snow covered cars and neon labeled writing that covered the illuminated buildings, “What’re you feelin’?”
Sitting up a tad straighter you scanned the buildings, looking for any place you could recognize before falling back against the heated seat. “M’ not really sure, I don’t recognize anything here Toji.” you yawned and leaned over the compartment to wrap your arm around his bicep, snuggling into him.
Toji cooed at your tenderness, patting your head and making the decision himself, pulling into a drive through and ordering something for himself and for you, deciding to get you two different things in case you favored the other.
You woke up to the smell of something spicy, rubbing your eyes before letting them focus on the ma sitting in the seat beside you. “Mornin’ to” you yawned, jumping lightly when he laughed through the mouthful of food.
“It’s seven P.M, baby cakes” Toji took another bite of food and then reached into the backseat to grab the separate bag of fruit and hand it to you gently. “I got you two things so you can choose which one you want.” he brought his hand to your head, pulling you towards him and placing a kiss on your temple and then went back to eating.
“Thankyou Toji.” you whispered, leaning against him as you ate and looked up through the windscreen of the car, watching the stars quietly. The soft hum of the engine mixed with the soft song playing on the radio built a warm feeling up in your belly. The feeling of home. Although you had only known Toji for a day, somehow you knew he was everything you needed. The perfect mix of dominance and parental guidance that made you look up at him like he was the only man in the entire world who mattered (scratch that) the only person who’s ever mattered.
“What’s up, baby?” he met your soft gaze. You smiled and leaned up to kiss him. Toji filled the gap between the two of you and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, short and sweet, nothing forced and nothing fake. It was reassuring.
The two of you went back to eating when you paused after your third bite, “Toji?” you asked and turned to him. “Yeah, baby?” he leaned back to rest his hands behind his head, watching you lovingly. You had him whipped and he knew it. He knew as soon as he heard your cries and soft meals for him through the thicket walls that he would do anything and everything to ensure you were happy and healthy and his.
“I want you to be my first.” so nonchalauntly said it almost made him blush, you spoke as if you were talking about the weather.
“You sure?” He querched an eyebrow at you to which your submissive nature returned, making you shrink away and lower your head.
“Yeah I’m sure.” you said and played with your food nervously. Toji smiled at you.
“Okay.”
The rest of the ride home was filled with soft comments and the soft sound of your knees bouncing nervously. At one point Toji had reached over to hold your thigh, slowing the rhythmic bouncing. “Calm down” he chuckled and rubbed your leg with his hand, “Don’t stress yourself out, I’m gonna take care of you.” he reassured you. Toji looked between you and the road, your face illuminated with a cherry light from the car lights surrounding you, “Hey, I’d rather have you do it with me than some dipshit who’s gonna fuck you and get you pregnant without caring about you.”
Your head turned to his, a worried expression painted your pretty features. “D-do boys actually do that?”
“Do what, baby?” he squeezed your hand and made a left turn, turning the wheel with his left hand smoothly.
“Try to get girls pregnant and then run away?” your bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Toji would have laughed at your naive nature, so easily bought by scary lines of abandonment. He knew you had abandonment issues; if the small tugs on his arms and adoring looks you gave him were any indication that you had trouble believing people (Toji) weren't going to leave you, stemming from some evil plant that had been rooted by most definitely someone you called a “father”.
“No, not all. But boys are idiots, I don’t want you hanging around any boys when you go back to school. They just wanna get their dicks wet.” Toji said, no room up to argue, as if you were going to.
“I won’t, I promise.” you were serious and Toji could tell. His precious baby, you were all his and he’d do whatever he could to protect you from the terrible monster spewed from the selfishness of teenage boy hormones and immaturity.
“I know baby, you’re my good girl, you’re daddy’s good girl.” the title made your legs quiver immediately, panties becoming soaked and thighs rubbing against each other, desperate for friction to ease the assault on your brain. The truck came to a stop at another intersection and Toji took the opportunity to press a kiss to your soft lips, pulling away and running his thumb across the bottom. He hummed at you and kissed you again, “Mhm, my sweet baby.”
“You’re so pretty” Toji praised, looking at you from between your spread thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulder as he pressed kisses to your panties, sucking on the damp spot of the fabric.
“Mmm, daddy, please.” you whined and reached a hand down to slip beneath your panties, your actions serving as pointless when Toji smacked your hand away.
“Please what?” he bit the inside of your thigh, sucking off your soft skin. You mewled at his touch, small fingers twisting the satin sheets generously. “Please touch me, I need you.”
Toji smiled at your neediness, sitting up a tad to pull your panties off and throw them behind him aimlessly. Bringing his mouth to your cunt he inhaled deeply and groaned, cupping your hips with his rough hands and bringing your body closer to him.
You exhaled shakily as he kissed your clit gently then moved down to lick a wide stripe up your core. You rushed to grab his head to steady yourself, thighs quivering as he groaned again when he inserted a finger.
“Fuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby.” he sucked your clit, his finger curling inside of you and stoking your gummy walls. “God, can’t wait to feel your tight little pussy on my cock, Jesus.” he exhaled deeply. “Gonna add another finger, kay, baby, you tell me if it's too much.” you looked up from your cunt, your juices coating his plush lips.
You nodded gently, spreading your legs a tad wider to accommodate toji’s new position. He pulled himself to sit on his knees, resting your cunt over his thighs. “Words for me, use your words for daddy.” he kissed your folds and you shivered.
“Yes daddy-”
“Promise me you’ll tell me if it hurts.” his eyes grew soft at your affectionate gaze.
“I promise, daddy.” you nodded and decided to act boldly, scooting yourself higher into his hold. Toji smirked through a chuckle before leaning down and inserting two fingers into you slowly. Wincing at the stretch Toji caressed your thigh with his hand holding you to him.
“I know, so good for daddy, just a little bit more baby.” he continued to praise you until both fingers were stuffed inside your tight cunt, threatening to split you if he tried to stretch them. “Oh honey, you’re so tight, that hurt?” he looked at you, concerned about his features.
You thought it over for a second, “Mm, a little bit, just a lil’ uncomfortable” hissing when he went to remove a finger, walls clenching emptily after benign stretched lightly.
“M’ sorry baby, daddy’s sorry, jus’ wanna make sure you're okay.” he rubbed the inside of your thigh and reentered his finger, sliding the two of them in and out of you with a squelch of your wet cunt. Toji watched as you squirm slightly, his fingers separating gently to stretch you. “So good for me baby, so good.”
Tears welled in your eyes at the praise, bringing your hand down to wrap around Toji’s wrist, he softened his movements. The two of you met each other's eyes and Toji smirked at your expression, eyes lidded hair stuck to your forehead. The way you looked at him with such trust made his heart swell, your swollen lips and rising chest, and the meteophicral hearts swimming in your vision could bring him to his knees.
He needed you and he fucking needed you now.
Toji grabbed a pillow and placed your hips over it, moving back to lean between your legs and press small kisses to your folds. “M’ you taste so good.” he wrapped his hands around your hips, caging you to the bed. His scarred lip tickling your skin when he sucked on your clit and reached his hand up towards you to hold yours in his own. He could tell you were close. Your legs twitched and he could feel your folds pulse and pump in his mouth.
“You’re okay.” he mumbled as your legs clenched as you came, nails digging into the rough flesh of his knuckle. His gruff voice muffled between your legs. Toji continued to lap at your soft cunt, his tongue flicking over your clit as he brought you closer to the edge.
A tight heat coiled in your belly, you tensed again and pulled your legs closer to your chest, toji following you as you moved, keeping a hand wrapped around your waist. He pulled off of you to smile, the scar on his lip splitting - the sight was almost painful to look at. Toji’s fingers pinched your clit while he watched you moan.
Throwing your head back against the fur pillow and tightening your grip around Toji’s wrist you came. “Oh- oh, please I’m cumming.” your walls pulsed around his digits, pussy soaking his mouth.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl for daddy huh” Toji smirked against your cunt, licking your wet folds before moving away to kiss up the inside of your thighs and up your leg that sat on his shoulder. He sat up onto his knees to kiss your ankle, rubbing your calf as you panted. “So pretty, baby.” he kissed your ankle again then moved to rest his hands on either side of your shoulders.
Toji brought his head down to snuzzle your neck, kissing the junction between your collarbone and neck, pressing short and small kisses all the way up your jaw until he met your parted lips. He pressed his lips to yours, cupping your head with one of his hands while the other moved down to part your folds again.
“Think you’re ready for daddy?” he pecked your lips. You nodded and whined lightly as he moved back to cup the bulge in his sweatpants. You moaned at the sight, you pushed yourself onto your elbows and crawled over to him.
He watched you eye his bulge, his cock twitching as your head tilted upwards, eyes meeting his own. You looked so innocent - so easy to ruin. You looked between him and his bulge, jaw opening and closing like a gaping fish. “C-can I touch..” you whispered, embarrassed at your own insinuation that you most definitely wanted this man’s cock inside of you.
Toji chuckled and leaned down to pet your head, he kissed your forehead and nodded when your expression grew into one of frustration at the lack of answer. “Yeah, baby, you wanna touch daddy’s cock?” he tilted his head to watch you turn bashfully making him laugh, pulling down the hem of his sweatpants through his chuckle.
His cock sprung up to tap his abdomen and drool pooled in your mouth, you moved to take him into your mouth, Toji’s hand coming up to press against your forehead, stopping you in the process. You looked up to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Daddy’s okay, I’ll teach you how to suck dick another day, kay baby?” he stroked the back of your head. His words were almost condescending, treating you as though you didn’t know any better, as though you were too incapable of doing things on your own. Toji didn't think so though, Toji saw this as his way to own you completely, riot your brain of everything you knew and mold you into a submissive little puppy - mold you into something entirely perfect and special, hidden from the sinful acts of civilization.
“Daddy,” you whined, pawing at his thigh, staring at his cock had begun tortures; memorizing the thin veins that ran up the underside and his pretty pink tip. Daddy’s cock is pretty you thought to yourself.
He hadn't even noticed he’d begun to stare off.
Toji blinked and made a smile at you, holding your jaw in his hand and kissing you roughly, “Daddy’s here.” he pulled off to look behind you at the bed, pushing you back till you were laying on your back, arms reaching up for him.
Positioning himself between your legs, he hiked one thigh over his arm, pressing your knee to your chest. You placed your hands on his biceps, rubbing his skin as a means to comfort yourself as you watched him tug on his cock, precum leaking from the tip.
You made a nervous whimper at the feeling of his tip pressing against your folds. Toji kissed you and stroked the skin of your hip gently. “Shh… kiss daddy’s gonna go slow kay?” he waited for you to nod before slowly pushing his tip in.
You cried out and pushed against his belly, trying to slow him down, “Too much daddy!” tears already fell down your soft cheeks making Toji’s eyes soften. He brought himself down to rest on his forearms, bringing his hands to either side of your face and cupping it as you sobbed.
“Honey, calm down,” he spoke gently, thumbing your tears away “it’s only just the tip, baby”
You closed your mouth and screwed your eyes shut, trying to get used to the stretch only to shake your head when it wasn’t working. “Too big, daddy,” you wailed and brought your hands up to cup his wrists.
“Baby.” he cooed “focus on daddy for me baby” he pulled out a small bit to let you calm down. You slowly opened your eyes, vision blurred with salty tears as you tried to make out his face.
“Daddy you have to go slow.” you cried, bringing a hand up to wipe at your eyes which Toji pulled away, leaning down to kiss your eyelids gently and pulling back to place a peck on your swollen lips.
He cooed again, “I know baby, daddy’s sorry, he was going too fast.” you nodded at his words and he nodded back, smiling when you began to breathe normally again, taking deep inhales through your lips. “That’s my girl, deep breaths, kay?” you continued to breathe until you squirmed a bit underneath him. “Where you goin baby?” Toji asked, head tucked into your neck where he’d been pressing gentle kisses.
“Wanna try again.” you met his eyes when he came back up, “I can do it daddy, just go slow.” you reassured him when his eyebrow quirked.
“Okay, daddy’s gonna so slow, you tell him if it gets to be too much okay?” he kissed both of your cheeks and you nodded, your features filling with excitement in hopes of making your daddy proud. Toji noticed your excitement, of course, and laughed lightly, “Calm down, squirt, we still gotta take it slow. Daddy doesn’t wanna hurt you.”
You nodded enthusiastically and grabbed his biceps again, bracing yourself for the stretch and wincing when he pushed in again. Toji watched your soft expression grow screwed and stopped, “Take a breath, baby.”
You gasped loudly, showing Toji that you were in fact breathing which earned you a smile at your exaggerated breaths. Toji took your moment of distraction to push himself in a bit more, making your smile break into a gasp, nails gripping his skin roughly.
“So good, for me, see almost done” he tucked your head to look between the two of you; the sight of his girth splitting you open making your walls flutter and soak hsi cock, pulling him into you more.
Toji’s jaw dropped at the clench of you walls, you were so fucking tight - and he wasn’t even all the way in - “Oh, fuuuck,” he chuckled breathlessly, readjusting himself to support his weight on one of his hands, “easy, kid, god.”
“M’ sorry” your eyes welled up, thinking you were hurting him you went to move only to be stopped by him keeping you in place.
“No,” he chuckled “No- just- just god, haha” he took a few breaths, bringing a hand down to massage your clit, hoping you’d loosen up because at the rate you were going right now, he was gonna cum right when he was fully inside you. “Jesus, kid, you’re gonna be the death of me.” he said through gritted teeth.
Toji continued to push himself in, your body shivering and leg quivering over his arm as he met your hymen, tapping it lightly with the tip of his cock making you wince. “There she is.” Toji looked down between your bodies, seeing how much more you had to take he gulped and turned his head back up to see your worried expression.
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m still gonna go slow, baby, daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.” the two of you waited for a moment, his cock pulsing inside your tight cunt as you took deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself. Toji took the time to appreciate your features; your furrowed brows as you concentrated on the size of him, your long eyelashes stuck together by tears, your soft skin and plump cheeks that made him want to wrap you up in his arms and snuggle you. “You okay, baby?” you nodded “You want daddy to try moving?” he asked and kissed you.
“Yes daddy, I just- I need help.” you looked to him for guidance and guidance he provided. Toji thought for a second before taking your smaller hand in his large one and pulling it down to his cock, letting you wrap your small hand around the girth that hadn’t entered you yet.
“Good girl,” Toji muttered, watching you feel around his cock, exploring the touch and texture of it, “Now, daddy’s gonna push in and if it gets to be too much for you I want you to press against me.” he informed you and you nodded, heart speeding up at the pulse under the skin of his cock. “You ready?” nodding you moved your arm to his neck, pulling him closer to you and kissing him.
Toji pushed in gently, your hymen splitting, a broken cry muffled by Toji’s mouth, your hand made no move of stopping him but he slowed to a near stop for your sake, stroking your wrist with his hand and pressing kisses over your tears.
“You okay, sweetie?” he pulled back, stroking the back of your head.
“Yeah, m’okay, jus’ hurts a bit.” you sniffled
“I know, kid, you’re being’ so good for me, so good for daddy.” he kisses your nose and lets you relax, running his hands over any part of your body he could reach, slowly kissing you and allowing you to grow accustomed to his size.
“I’m okay now daddy, c-can you move, but be gentle please, like- like slow?” you said softly, taking your hand off his length to hold his forearm.
“Of course, baby.” Toji nodded and pulled out a bit before slowly pushing himself back in. He watched your expression clench up, having difficulty in taking his length; he tried a few more practice thrusts before realizing your body was tense and making it difficult for you to fully let him move without hurting you. “Baby, relax.” he sat up onto his haunches and pulled you closer to him. Your legs were placed over his shoulders as he pressed your body into a mating press, forcing your body to relax in surprise of all of his cock sinking into your tight cunt making him groan.
“Oh jesus, you’re so fucking tight, baby - haha, god, you’re all mine, god you feel so good.” he praised, head coming to tuck into your neck. He pressed small kisses to your skin while he groaned.
“Mm daddy, please,” your legs tensed when his cock twitched slightly. There was hardly any room for him, his cock was pressed against your cervix, your squirming not helping to ease the cramped feeling.
“I gotcha’, kid.” he pulled out and thrusted back in, this time you moaned and threw your head back against the fur pillows. You felt so fucking full. “Fuck, daddy.” you cried, turning your head upwards to watch him to see his focused yet blissed expression.
“Yeah, sweetie?” he chuckled, thrusting deeply inside you, his balls slapped your skin, the sound was damn near pornographic, the weight of his cock made you moan. “Oh, that feels good, does my baby feel good?” he teased at your expression, drool trailing from your mouth.
You nodded enthusiastically and moved to hold him closer, your legs bending against his shoulders to press him further inside you. “Daddy - whine - daddy, please all the way inside.” you pleaded and Toji looked at you worriedly.
“Okay, sweetie, relax for me.” he readjusted your legs higher on his shoulders and sank all the way into you, two of you gasping when his balls met your folds. “Jesus.” Toji shivered and pulled back to thrust into you again.
Toji continued to thrust into you, hitting your cervix and making you moan and clench around him, the heat and tightness of your pussy making him groan. He needed to get you to come. “C’mon sweetie, you’re so pretty for me, so. thrust. damn. Thrust. Good.” he brought a hand down to your clit and began to circle it gently, the rough pad of his finger bringing you closer.
“Oh fuck, daddy!” you moaned, “Daddy, m’ gonna cum, m’ gonna cum.” you cried.
Toji groaned and leaned down to kiss you, “cum for me sweet girl, want daddy to fill you up? Give you a baby?” he smirked at your expression, fucked coompletely stupid.
“Daddy please, please fill me up.” you moaned, the need to be bred was making your head spin. Thoughts of being swollen with his child and carrying his baby for him made your knees weak.
“Okay, kid, daddy’s cummin’ c’mon.” he said through clenched teeth, pressing your legs deeper against your chest causing you to cum. Your jaw dropped and you gasped, pulling yourself closer to Toji as you came.
Toji leaned into your hold, shivering as he bucked his hips into you, your gummy walls pulsed around him, milking his cock as cum painted your walls. He swore you were going to kill him. “God, you’re all mine, kid, all fucking mine. He finished thrusting and pushed himself all the way into the hilt, assuring his seed took before pulling out and falling beside you.
You sat staring at the ceiling, looking for something to ground yourself with as your body shook. Eyes coming to focus on the iron chandelier you felt tears well up in your eyes and pour down your cheeks. Suddenly everything was too much and not enough, you needed more of him, you needed him to tell you everything was okay, to tell you he wasn’t going to leave his multi-million dollar cabin after fucking you ti’ll you were braindead, your mind scrambled to find some logical thought, grasping at the scariest one it could find until you could feel the anxiety rotting in your stomach.
Toji heard you sniffle and turned over to see you covering your face with your hands, chest heaving as tears ran down your cheeks. “Baby, baby, baby, what’s wrong?” he moved to pull you into his arms, spooning you and grounding you with his weight. “Are you hurt, honey, what’s going on?” he kissed the back of your head. Hsi touch made you cry harder, “c’mon, kid, talk to me.” he pleaded and brought his hand over your body to cup your face.
“Please -” you choked, turning over to meet his eyes, “Please don’t leave me, don’t - I can’t, I wan’t-” you were panicking, unable to get the words out as word vomit spilled form your swollen lips aimlessly.
Toji tried to make sense of your rambling, ‘shushing’ you and pulling you against his chest. “M’ not leaving a sweet thing.” he kissed the top of your head. “Remember how I told you I didn’t want you hanging around those boys? Is that what this is about?” he pulled your head back from his chest to look at you, stroking your cheek gently.
You thought for a moment and considered that those scary stories Toji told you about the mean boys and their inability to be mature probably put you on edge. “Maybe” you sniffled.
Toji chuckled lightly, “Baby, I’m not gonna leave you.” he tucked you back against his chest before rolling over and letting you lay against him. “Shh, sweetie, relax.” he cooed as he felt your back heave with heavy sniffles.
Trying to slow your breathing you snuggled against his body, relaxing to the touch of him running his hand up and down your back comfortingly. You turned to him as you felt your eyes get heavy, “Toji?” you sniffled.
“Yeah, kid?” he asked, eyes closed yet his hand continued to run up and down your skin.
“Thankyou.” you said softly.
Toji peaked one eye open, “C’mere.” he brought his arm up to make room for you, letting you lay down next to him before wrapping you in his hold under the heavy fur blanket. “You’re a good kid y/n.” he kissed your forehead.
You hummed to yourself, relaxing into his hold and falling asleep to the sound of his heart.
The next morning Toji sent you to shower, letting you have your own privacy as you scrubbed the blood from between your thighs and watched the clear water that ran over the pearly white tiles turn a pink hue.
Once you were finished and dressed yourself in a pair of pj’s, you made your way downstairs, lured into the kitchen by the smell of bacon and syrup much like the morning before. Toji was sitting at the bar with a coffee cup in his hand and his phone in the other.
Noticing you enter the room he motioned for you to come over to him, letting you stand between his legs as he sat on the stool. “How’d you sleep, baby?” you stroked your head gently.
“Mm, good.” you yawned and rubbed your eyes to which Toji pulled your hand away from your face again.
“How many times I gotta tell you to stop doing’ that shit with your eyes?” You smiled sheepishly before wrapping your arms around him in a hug to which he returned, resting his chin atop your head.
“Forever.” you joked and Toji laughed, you smiled as you felt it vibrate through his body.
“Breakfast is ready.” Tsumiki said through a smile and placed two plates down at the bar, one for you and one for Toji before going back to make her own plate.
“C’mere, sweet thing.” Toji spread his legs and helped you up into his lap. Letting you rest against his chest as he brought your plate over next to his and began to feed you. It was a simple thing, the act of feeding someone you love, but it was a small act of domesticity that warms your heart. It made you and Toji’s relationship seem years old, as he kissed your temple and took a bite of his own food you smiled to yourself.
“What are you thinking about?” Toji teased and flicked your forehead.
“You.” you answered honestly, snuggling into him.
Toji smiled and placed a hand on your head before bringing another fork of food to your mouth, “Yeah, I’m thinkin’ about you too.”
Toji fed you another bite as Megumi made his way into the kitchen. You waved to him and smiled with a mouthful of food, Megumi chuckled at you, his shoulders bouncing.
He made his own plate and went to sit down with Tsumiki. The four of you ate in silence, save for snide comments made here and there by Toji or soft pet names he would whisper to you as you took another bite.
"Are we gonna go to the gondola today?" He pulled the string off his hoodie mindlessly and he munched on a piece of bacon.
Toji looked back at his son before turning to you and stroking the back of your head softly, "How's that sound, baby?"
You nodded your head and brought a hand up to cover your mouth, "sounds fun to me, I wanna see the mountains and play in the snow."
Toji smiled at your excitement and kissed your temple. The rest of the breakfast was filled with far more normalcy rather than tension, son and father making jokes while Tsumiki and you spoke about silly little things.
"You ready to go, kid?" Toji yelled from the bottom of the steps. He wore a black jacket made of PU leather and cotton fabric, snow pants, a pair of leather snow boots.
Bouncing down the steps in your moon boots you squealed happily, "Yes, I'm so excited!"
Toji chuckled and ruffled your hair once you made it to the bottom of the steps, "Careful, baby." He scolded lightly and you shook your head, removing his large hand from your hair.
"I wanna go!" You said gleefully and ran to the door and out into the icy air, Toji following behind, his bag in one hand and truck keys in the other.
You crouched down in the small amount of piled snow that had built up over night, grabbing a stick and poking at it happily as Toji started the F150 and placed his bags in the back.
Suddenly two hand grabbed your waist making you squeal and thrash around, "Toji!'' You giggled and he laughed, kissing your neck playfully. Toji carried you to the passanger seat of the truck and placed you in the seat, helping strap you in and then kissing your nose.
Toji made his way to the driver's seat and sat down, heated up the seats and started the engine before typing in the directions to the gondola. "You ready to go see some mountains, sweet cheeks?" He laid his hand out across the compartment signaling he wanted you to take his hand.
Placing your hand in his, you looped your fingers together and leaned forward to kiss him on his lips. "Yes!" You chirped and grabbed his phone to turn on some music.
Toji smiled at your music choice and rubbed the faux fur of your glove gently as he drove down the trail. He was happy.
#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fushiguro#jjk#jjk toji#fushiguro
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Capcom’s Official AA Fanclub Surveys - Main Series Edition
Naturally, Capcom’s official AA fanclub site didn't only post surveys about the DGS characters; they published far more of them about the main series characters. It makes sense, as they started the trend before the DGS series had even been conceived.
Back in the old days, they used to hold a survey on Capcom’s official AA fansite every few months where they’d write about the seasonal activities of a handful of characters and ask fans to vote for the funniest/most pleasant/strangest/etc answer.
They stopped doing them in like… 2016? 2017? The original text is lost for good as far as I can tell. Even the wayback machine couldn’t help because the content was password locked and you can’t get past the password wall while remaining in the archived version.
Fortunately, I saved some of my translations of them so I thought I’d share them. Unfortunately, I was doing these translations very casually and only intended to share them with two of my close friends at the time when I did them, so some of them are just summaries rather than proper translations, and I tended to only focus on characters that we personally were interested in or scenarios that we thought were funny or interesting. That means there are parts missing, and because I didn't expect the original text to be wiped off the site I didn't save it so I could go back and fill in the blanks. Sorry about that...
Cut for length!
"Spring is on its way and each of the AA cast members spent their day off in different ways. Who's way of spending their day off sounds the most pleasant?"
Phoenix- he finished unpacking his moving boxes and sorting his seasonal clothing. While he was packing away his ugly pink sweater and such, he happened across the complete works of Shakespeare at the bottom of one of the boxes, got completely absorbed in reading, and ended up abandoning his unpacking.
Mia- She went shopping at a department store for a new summer suit. On her way, she coincidentally ran into Maya, who was on her way to the agency to hang out, but then at some point Maya vanished. Mia tried calling her cell phone but she didn't answer. "Don't tell me she's lost at her age," Mia thought, and began to search for her. She found Maya transfixed by a rooftop Steel Samurai show. It seems that she was both exasperated and relieved.
Maya- she tagged along on Mia's shopping trip, but the second she spied a poster for a rooftop Steel Samurai show, she made a beeline for the roof. She got into a cheering battle with a mean-looking elementary school boy and really enjoyed the show. When the show was over, she reunited with an exasperated looking Mia. She gleefully led Mia to a burger restaurant so they could eat some burgers together.
Edgeworth- he treated himself to a drive along the coast in his red sports car... Well, that was the plan, but then he was pushed by his mentor Von Karma into being the driver for his shopping trip. As a reward for his service, he received a brand new Von Karma style, stylish and flashy summer suit.
Then there's Larry, who dragged Phoenix to a café to hit on its hot owner, and the judge who bought a wig.
"Apollo, Fulbright, Edgeworth, Klavier and Kristoph made visits to a nursery school near the courthouse. Which of them did the most pleasant activity with the children?"
Apollo acted out the story of the “Crying Red Ogre” for the children. Phoenix played the part of the blue ogre, and Apollo was the red ogre, and Apollo’s wailing moved the children to tears too. In a panic over all the crying, they got Trucy to cheer them up with a magic trick in which she made Apollo disappear.
Fulbright: He came dressed in a blinding white costume to teach the children about justice and put on a play. The children gave him thunderous applause... But when Jinxie, who had been forced to play the part of the heroine, saw Fulbright, she thought he was the ghost of an army general, got scared, and slapped a charm on his face.
Edgeworth and Gumshoe: He and Gumshoe were going to reenact the story of Kintarou (an old Japanese fairytale). Franziska handed Edgeworth the Kintarou costume she’d designed (If you've seen Ghibli's Spirited Away, recall what Bou, the giant baby, wears. That's what we're talking about here). Edgeworth fearfully asked “You... expect me to wear this...?” Gumshoe, who had painted his whole body black to play the role of a bear, told him “Of course, sir! It doesn’t fit me!” and shoved Edgeworth out on stage in it. Edgeworth quickly began to reconsider Gumshoe’s salary for next month.
Klavier and Kristoph: Kristoph started giving a boring lecture on the importance of law, and the kids were getting antsy. Seeing this, Klavier came over with his guitar to liven things up, performing a rock style arrangement of the “The Bear Went Over The Mountain". But then he threw in the unnecessary comment of “If any of you scratch the frets of my guitar, I’ll be suing for damage of property, ok?” And they both ended up getting kicked out.
"This survey is about who knows how to enjoy a sunny day at Gourd Lake the best"
Simon: To give Taka some exercise, Blackquill took him and Fulbright (who was on guard duty) out for some falconry. Things were going well until Taka heard something about this mysterious creature “Gourdy,” freaked out, flew into the little shop selling Gourdy merchandise and started making a huge mess. Blackquill and Fulbright gathered Taka up in a panic and hightailed it out of there as fast as they could.
Edgeworth had seen Phoenix home and on his way back passed by Gourd Lake. Just as he was starting to get bad flashbacks... he happened to hear Larry in the middle of a flirting attempt and got dragged in. The woman he was trying to put the moves on was a foreigner, and she and Edgeworth started chatting in her native language. Larry couldn’t understand and was annoyed that Edgeworth was apparently moving in on his target, so he sulked and blew up at Edgeworth.
Athena tried to play matchmaker for Apollo and Juniper, so she told them to meet her in the forest near Gourd Lake so that they would run into each other there and hopefully hit it off. Juniper got there first, expecting to find Athena, but when Apollo showed up, she panicked and hid behind a tree. While she was trying to gather her nerve to go talk to him, he wandered off and she lost sight of him.
Phoenix was at the park and he got caught by Larry who was doing his part time job of selling Samurai Dogs. Larry saw a pretty lady that he wanted to flirt with so he asked Phoenix to mind the shop while he was gone. Business was slow, so he called in all the WAA members to put their full range of skills to use. They seem to have managed to sell them all!
Gumshoe took Missile for a walk in the park. They stopped for a rest and Gumshoe fell asleep, so Missile slipped out of his collar and ran over to where the Samurai Dogs were being sold. He ate them all without Phoenix noticing. Phoenix handed things back over to Larry when he got back and Larry got in huge trouble for losing so much product.
"This survey is talking about how the cast spent their Valentines Day"
Trucy gave Polly chocolate for himself and some for Klavier and asked Apollo to give it to him for her. Klavier wasn’t in court when Apollo went to look for him, though, so he and Phoenix went to the prosecutors’ office together with their chocolate. On their way, though, Apollo found himself getting a lot of strange looks from Themis Legal Academy students.
Ema gave some chocolates to Phoenix to give to Edgeworth because she suddenly got called to a crime scene. Phoenix headed over to the prosecutors’ office but Edgeworth was in court and wasn’t there, so Phoenix waited out in front of the prosecutors’ office with this flashy, girly looking bag of chocolates. Edgeworth’s trial ended up going a long time and Phoenix got a lot of stares as he waited.
Edgeworth was hit by a pollen-filled spring breeze on his way back to the office and suddenly his eyes got all red and itchy and he was left sneezing and sniffling. Phoenix came to talk to him and got quite a surprise when he saw the state Edgeworth’s face was in. The chocolates Ema gave him were in the shape of the Steel Samurai and they made Edgeworth so pleased that it seemed to ease his suffering a little.
Flower Viewing:
Phoenix and Apollo go to the park early to hold flower viewing spots for the WAA members. They see some people from around town that they know who ask them to hold their spots while they go and grab this or that. Phoenix and Apollo do their best to hold those people’s spots and in the process lose their own. They end up begging Edgeworth to let them share his and Klavier’s spot.
White Day:
Because of his painful memories about Valentine’s Day from elementary school, he doesn’t like Valentine’s Day or White Day that much. As a return gift to his beloved daughter, he gave her painstakingly handmade magic panty shaped chocolates. Apparently he forced the ones that didn’t turn out on Edgeworth...
Klavier was holding a ladies only concert, which he invited Trucy to. Phoenix was worried about letting Trucy be out at night by herself, so he sent Apollo along in disguise (as a woman!!). But Klavier saw through Apollo’s disguise easily and to Apollo’s horror, called him up on stage.
Autumn/Moon Viewing:
Phoenix, Edgeworth and Larry went to collect chestnuts together. Larry was too focused on looking for chestnuts and not watching where he was going and fell down the mountain slope. Phoenix had tried to catch Larry but he ended up falling too and spraining his ankle slightly. Edgeworth had to carry Phoenix on his back down the mountain.
Apollo went moon viewing with the rest of the WAA. It turned out into kind of an office party and Apollo had drink after drink while assuring everyone that “I’m fine!” but ended up getting pretty hammered. He proceeded to pass out and Phoenix took care of him.
Obon Festival:
Klavier performed a bonfire festival dance version of the Guitar’s Serenade at the summer festival and Apollo provided the taiko drum backup. He filled the gaps in the taiko drumming with his chords of steel, and it was a very energetic bonfire dance.
Edgeworth noticed the festival going on on his way home from work and decided to have a look. He saw Phoenix selling Samurai Dogs and desperately wanted one, but couldn’t bear the thought of Phoenix finding out that he was a Steel Samurai fan. He hemmed and hawed in front of the festival stall, trying to decide whether to buy one, but they sold out before he could make up his mind.
Phoenix went to the festival with Maya. Larry, who was working the Samurai Dog stand, called them over and forced them to watch the stand while he made a booty call. Phoenix and Maya’s manzai comedy duo style vocal advertising was so successful that they quickly sold out.
Christmas:
Phoenix, Trucy, Athena, Apollo and Pearl all spent the night at the office after their party wrapped up. Phoenix put presents next to the kids' pillows during the night.
Edgeworth grumbled about having to play Santa but dressed up anyway and snuck in at night to bring the younger ones at Phoenix's office some presents. He accidentally ends up sneaking into Phoenix’s room instead.
Apollo wanted to be a good big brother to Trucy and Pearl, so he snuck into their rooms to leave gifts but tripped over something, let out a Chords of Steel volume shout as he fell and ruined the surprise/
Klavier, as a favor to Trucy, snuck in dressed as a Visual Kei style Santa, but he announced his arrival with a rock arrangement of Santa Claus is Coming to Town and got caught and kicked out.
Blackquill had to make a jailbreak in order to play Santa, was chased down and Phoenix woke to find the police surrounding his office.
DGS Edition
#ace attorney#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#maya fey#mia fey#larry butz#simon blackquill#apollo justice#klavier gavin#kristoph gavin#dick gumshoe#manfred von karma#franziska von karma#trucy wright#athena cykes#taka#bobby fulbright#missile#ema skye#my translation#translations#official content
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Right in front of you
A Halstead!sister
Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "
"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.
But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? Or being caught?"
Requested : Yes by @study-coffee-chicago : They found out she cheated on a test in high school...and Jay's the one who has to pick her up.
Warnings : angry!Jay (lots of it), alcohol, swearing, anxiety attacks
Note : I am so so so sorry this so longg 😭 I ended up so far away from the actual request kayela please don't block mee 😭 butt I've learned alot in writing abt active and passive voices and using more imagery Yayy!! I'm so glad that yall are ok with my grammar thank uu🥺
MASTERLIST HERE
The piles of homework and flashcards you needed to memorize had no end in sight, and now that Will was taking nightshifts along with his usual double shifts, and intelligence was tracking down an underground drug cartel, you spent most days alone, allowing your mind to engulf you.
Every time you sat down to study, you felt a striking pain in your chest. In mere seconds the air was sucked out of your lungs and you found yourself panting, desperate to get oxygen back into your body.
You would be surrounded by books and worksheets and you could swear the walls of your room were closing in towards you, trapping you in a sea of incomplete work.
You failed to follow the schedules and to do lists you had made for yourself. Staring at them, hoping the essays would write themselves.
All you needed, was a break. A moment to relax from anything and everything.
So when your best friend mentioned that her brother used to drink a little before he appeared for an exam, your mind was quick to catch on.
Last night you had borrowed a little bit of beer from Jay's stash of alcohol and took a few sips of it as you studied.
The more you drank, the less bitter it became. It was a weird, new sensation, but it worked nonetheless.
Except now, you were sitting in the girls bathroom at school, ramaging through your notes, trying to recollect what you had learned yesterday.
You saw what you had underlined and highlighted— names in pink and important dates in yellow—but your mind came up blank.
Flipping the pages you saw people in wigs, and castles burning to the ground —None of which you recognized.
A wave of anxiety rippled through you unable to comprehend your next thought —you were going to fail.
Your head was throbbing as you ran a hand down face, massaging your temples trying to calm yourself down.
You took out your water bottle that you had filled with beer and swallowed a few gulps, hoping that it would help you think straight.
You groaned, feeling the sting of alcohol at the back of your throat, popping some mints into your mouth, you ran towards the exam hall.
***
Your foot bounced on the polished wood floors as sweat pooled on your forehead.
You thought you were careful —only taking a peek from your friends answer sheet when Mrs.Ling's back was facing you.
Everything would have worked out if it wasn't for that kid sitting behind you. In a split second your teacher turned around, when he dropped his pen, to see you peering over your partner's desk.
Now you were sitting in the principles office praying that Jay wouldn't be the one picking you up.
You could already imagine his anger at you for pulling him away from his case, only to find you cheated.
Unfortunately luck was not on your side today.
You dare not look at Jay as he entered the office, letting out a huff as he sat down. You could feel the rage emitting him, tension filling the room, as he burned holes looking at you.
"I'll get straight to the point" Your principal started.
"Please" Jay growled, struggling to contain himself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, when he got the call saying that you had cheated on your midterms.
You and Will were alike,at least he thought so, both good at science and math but weak at geography and history. Nonetheless you continued to secure good grades for the most part.
"Y/n here, was caught cheating from a classmates answer sheet. Our teacher caught her red handed. I truly did not expect this from you. These midterms cost thirty percent of your grade..... "
Pretty soon his voice was muffled like he was getting farther and farther away from you. His figure swayed in front of you as you squinted your eyes to keep him in the center of your vision.
" You are suspended, Mrs halstead"
Your eyes widened , your body choosing the perfect time to bring out what little beer you had taken when you heard those words, letting the alcohol mix with the adrenaline.
"WHAT??!! " Damn, alcohol really bought out your courage as Jay stared at you in shock at your audacity.
"Y/n, your lucky I'm letting you retake the exam. That's only because you've had a clean record so far. I strongly suggest you start preparing early Ms. halstead" your principal said in a firm but monotone voice that left you speechless.
Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "
Oh god. Every now and then, the ground would sway beneath you, tiles shifting in your vision. But you counted your steps, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting Jay to find out what else you had done........ until now.
You tilted your head, only to be met with your brother's piercing stare but little did he know, now it made it infinitely harder to concentrate on your walking.
"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.
But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? *Or being caught?*"
***
You rested your head on the seat as Jay entered the truck, flinching, when he slammed the door shut. Your pounding headache was getting worse by the minute, as your ears started to ring.
You blinked a few times squinting to focus on the road ahead of you but the fast-moving cars and the loud horns made you feel like your head was going to explode.
"Y/n," he addressed you, much calmer now.
You forced yourself to turn to your brother, who wore a confused expression.
But the moment he saw your deshelfed hair and your cracked lips, a wave of worry crashed over him. What the hell?
The truck came to a stop at a red light and Jay immediately scanned you over "Y/n?" he grabbed your chin, his jaw dropping, as he came face to face with reality.
"Are you drunk!!?" he barked , steam basically pouring out of his ears.
But your pleading eyes and empty silence gave him the answer he needed. "Are you kidding me??" he snarled as he slammed the steering wheel.
Oh God no. A blinding pain ripped through your head when Jay's palms made contact with the hard plastic. You winched turning your head away from your furious brother, letting out a whimper.
Jay's eyes widened at the sound, his heart breaking, realizing the pain you were in.
If he was going to be mad at you or at least punish you, you needed to be sober.
He stepped on the pedal as the light turned green taking a few breaths, trying to calm himself down.
With the vice lords reclaiming their territory and selling uncut fentanyl, bodies were dropping all over the city most of them being kids.
Kids..... your age.
Every kid at the morgue, just reminded him of you. He saw parents sobbing, begging for their kids to come back but Jay new better. They were never going to come home. Ever.
So he made it a priority to catch these ruthless creatures. He made it a priority over his sleep, over nine hours shifts and unknown to him, over spending time with you.
"Hey , hey" he whispered, not wanting to hurt you again, "We'll talk about this later ok? for now...... just..... it's ok..... I've got you" here reached out his hand, the other still on the steering wheel, to slowly rub your back as you tried to breath through the pain.
" I got you"
***
Jay wrapped a hand around you allowing you to hold onto him for support.
Silently, he deposited you on the couch, laying you down. He knew that he wasn't in any state to talk to you. He needed to clear his mind from his racing thoughts and rueful images of dying teenagers.
His phone rang, indicating that the district was awaiting him. "Here" he reluctantly shook your shoulders "Y/n, I need to go ok? Will will be here soon"
***
Almost half an hour had passed and you were waiting for Will to get out of the shower. You'd heard Jay explain everything to him over the phone.
You thought about how disappointed he would be.
Will —being the nerd he was— always helped you with your projects and gave you pop quizzes during breakfast, before your exams. He taught you how to organize flashcards just like he did in med school.
Even through your blurry thoughts, the image of Will's betrayed face and embarrassed eyes, knowing you cheated, lingered on your mind.
Your body was all over the place. Tiny noises echoing through your ear. Your muscles simultaneously aching and loose.
You were shivering as you tried to curl up into a ball. Your body trying to hold what little heat it had within itself.
But nothing stopped your tears.
You felt water drops make their way down your cheeks forming small splotches of water on the cushion you laid your head on.
And you didn't bother to wipe them away.
Will more or less was in the same state you were in. There was a multi-vehicle accident on the highway and victims were piling in the ED. He was running from one treatment room to the other, waiting to get back home and crash.
Will walked over to you with a huge glass of water and an advil, gently nudging you to sit up.
Your head still pounded, your eyes zoning in and out of the figure in front of you "Y/n, here drink the whole glass and take this" Will soothed, placing the glass and the pill in your hand "I—I'm sorry" You whispered, distracting yourself from Will's eyes.
Will knew he should be angry. Just like Jay was but he couldn't bring himself to blaming you, not until he had the full story anyway.
You looked so petite on the enormous couch, your legs folded on top of each other, arms shaking as you drowned the glass of water along with the Advil.
Your red puffy eyes and tear strained cheeks,were a contrast from your usual self. or he thinks. He's been pretty busy lately, so he's not too sure. " We'll talk about it later. I'm not angry. I promise"
He assured and was about to head to bed himself when you grabbed his wrist.
If he wasn't angry at you then maybe— just maybe—he would help you.
"Stay" You pleaded , the word falling from your lips just as easily as it had, many, many times before.
And just like before, you were met with Will's soft brown eyes filled with sympathy, ready to help. Ready—to be by your side.
He's slowly nodded climbing onto the couch, next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you nestled into him, laying your head on his chest.
You found some comfort as he embraced you, talking you under his arm and encompassing you in his warmth.
Holding on to him, you hoped that he would take your pain away, just like he did when you were little.
***
Will woke up to an uncomfortable feeling of something —or someone— tugging at his shirt.
He slowly opened his eyes allowing them to adjust to the light as he felt another a tug at his side. He looked over to you, but your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, your arm laid across his chest.
You were holding on to Will , using him as a lifeline, grounding you from the pain.
You felt a hand squeezing your own, stopping you from gripping the fabric "Y/n?" You opened your eyes to look up at will who had tears of his own, staring at the state you were in "it's okay, I'm here, I'm right here"
He encircles you, tighter than before, whispering soothing assurances into your hair.
***
With Will's help, the pain slowly subsides, allowing you access to your thoughts again.
You step out of the shower, into the living room and your eyes widen seeing Jay and Will sitting at the kitchen counter.
You didn't even hear Jay come in, but right now taking in his hardened glare, you didn't dare ask.
You knew what was coming and you didn't fight. You couldn't.
"So apparently we're cheating on our midterms now, huh?" Jay's calm voice made shivers run down your spine, starting to take rapid breaths.
"And apparently, someone thinks it's ok to steal alcohol from my stash" He gritted, never breaking I contact with you. "Do you think that's how the world works Y/n? DO YOU? BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED YOU'RE STILL A FUCKING TEENAGER!!" He spat, his thoughts fuming towards your trembling body.
It was every dieing body flashing before his eyes, as the past months' agony slipped off his tongue.
"Jay" Will's voice was stern, giving a knowing look towards his younger brother and didn't bother to give Jay time to argue with him.
"Y/n, we need to know what's going on"
"With school, with tests with....... everything" he stated giving you a solemn look meaning every word he said, promising himself that he would do whatever it takes to figure out what had been going on.
You sucked in a breath weighing all your options. You didn't want them to think that you needed a babysitter or that you couldn't take care of yourself.
You knew that they had their own problems to worry about but you couldn't take it anymore.
You hated it.
The feeling of your lungs collapsing, struggling to find air for your body, your stress skyrocketing anytime you sat down to study, never getting any thing done.
All day long you would constantly tell yourself to do your work. Every spare second is spent in making a list of things you want to do but when it was time to actually do those things, your mind wandered and emptied.
You took another deep breath, looking up from your feet, your eyes meeting your brothers.
You spilled the past months events from how alone you were all the time and not being able to concentrate to how you ended up drunk at school and cheating on your midterms.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you your hands trembled. You stood crying in the middle of the room until you felt a pair of arms around you.
Will placed his hand at the nape of your neck as he stroked your back with the other "Breathe Y/n, just Breathe" He slowly pulled away leading you to the couch.
God, how he wished he could turn back time. Then he'd been more vigilant to notice the changes that had come over you.
You felt the couch dip on both sides but you intently studied your fingers, fumbling with the hem of your shirt and wiped the tears off your face. They were mad. No, they were furious. You knew it.
But for some reason, they weren't showing it. Maybe they were waiting-
"We're not mad"
You without your head around to look at Jay, furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief. Jay? Not mad? HA.
"but I am disappointed though, but that's only because you didn't tell us......
but stealing alcohol was bad too" he added, earning him a glare from Will.
"Y/n, what Jay means is— we could've helped with school . Homework . Tests . Anything, you name it. We will help" he assured, "But how do we know you need help, if you don't tell us?"
You sighed, taking in the weird turn of events that had happened before you. You had wasted all this time, trying to figure out all your problems out, when the answer was right in front of you.
A mountain of guilt now sat on Jay's shoulders, weighing down on him, pushing him deeper into a wormhole of 'if's'.
Maybe if he'd just been a little more careful, this wouldn't have happened.
Maybe if he'd stop and listen to you once in a while, this wouldn't have happened.
While trying to save kids out on the street, he forgot to care for the kid at home. You were his sister, and yet, here you are in front of him, barely keeping yourself together.
But that would change. Right here. *Right now.*
"Y/n," Jay started "If you would have told us how alone and stressed you were feeling.....I would've taken some time off... Maybe we'd watch a movie or something. All you had to do was ask...... And we'll get you the help you need, y/n. You good with that?" he questioned, his anger and frustration dissipating.
You saw your brother, the workaholic detective, wanting to put his job aside, for you .
You were more important to him, than his job—You realized.
" Yea... Yeah, I am"
Will stood up and got another advil with another glass of water. "and maybe you wouldn't end up drunk and cheating on your test" he smirked, crouching in front of you.
"God, I didn't think it would hurt this bad. I am never drinking again!" you smiled , as you drowned the pill.
"See now that's what I like to hear!!" Jay exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. You squirmed, trying to get out of his grip, laughing, when you were joined by Will.
You know what? Maybe, things are going to be okay? Ya know?
__________________________
Read more of my fics here!!
Tagging : @girlandthemoon @herecomesthewriterwitch @megaliciab @meyocoko @alkadri-layal
#jay halstead#will halstead#chicago pd#chicago med#jay halstead x sister!reader#halstead sister#halstead sister imagine#jay halstead one shot#will halstead oneshot#halstead brothers
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Mr. perfect.
pairing: idol!Joshua x reader
genre: angst
word count: 1.5K
summary: what do you do when the one who was always there to comfort you, is the one who now has broken you?
warnings: mentions of cheating, denial and heartbreak.
A/N: this sucks. I’m sorry.
When you first learned about love, you always tried to keep in mind that everything about it was ephemeral, that no matter how many happy endings you had heard about, there was no way someone could ever meet such expectations. To you, fairytales were nothing but that, a fictional scenario people created to give themselves hope, to try to find something good even when the so-called love they felt, hurt them more than any physical harm.
But then you met Joshua, and suddenly you found yourself believing in everything you had convinced yourself was nothing but a lie.
You met him on a Friday night at some fancy party your best friend had thrown. Being from a wealthy family, it was no surprise to you that you found some famous people there. You were nothing like them, but being attached to the hip to her since you were kids surely took you to some places you would’ve never thought you’d ever see.
Dressed in a skin-tight navy dress, you were minding your own business, playing with the martini in your hands as your eyes traveled across the enormous house. The music wasn’t the same kind people your age would put in the background, instead, there were some violinists and pianists playing live. You felt out of place, the fact that your friend had left your side to keep greeting people not helping at all.
And that’s when you saw him, walking through the door with some other guys in a beige tuxedo, black strands of hair hanging over his eyes and small silver piercings decorating his ears.
Your eyes were immediately drawn to him, as he stood there across the room with his hands in his pockets, clearly enjoying the music and focused on the musicians. That’s when somewhere along the lines his eyes had landed on you, the previously blank expression on his face turning into the smallest but sweetest smile for you, and you swore you had never seen a man that beautiful in your entire life.
You knew it was over for you as soon as those round and beautiful dark orbs made your heart go crazy, wanting to look away but not being able to. He had an instant power over you, and you didn’t even want it to be any different.
Somehow you exchanged numbers that night, and although you thought you would never see him again, he proved you otherwise when he started texting you the following days.
You started spending time together every now and then, going to some cafes or meeting somewhere more private. Knowing the reality of his situation wasn’t something easy, but you were soon so infatuated with him that you didn’t even think of saying no when he asked you out.
Being with an idol wasn’t what you had expected at all, but Joshua always made everything feel so safe, warm, and comfortable that everything seemed to be just so easy.
He was so attentive, caring, and loving that you, not even once, felt neglected. He called you every single night before going to sleep or messaged you in the mornings or during breaks.
If you ever felt bad, he always knew the right words to say, and even though you felt insecure about him being around beautiful women all the time, he was quick to ease your fears and make you believe there was no way in the world he would ever want someone who wasn’t you.
You felt wanted, beautiful, and loved. He was a prince, he was everything someone could have ever wanted. So gentle, sweet, always there for you no matter what.
He was the only one who was able to set your body aflame with a single touch, always feeling like you were flying whenever his arms wrapped around you and the smell of his cologne, so familiar, filled your nose and made you feel like everything would be okay.
The way he held your hand and kissed your knuckles when he drove, the way he always tucked strands of hair behind your ear, or the way he kissed you in the middle of saying something just because he couldn’t help but being so whipped for you, making you lose your mind with such a simple action.
His sweet, raspy voice in the mornings after he had spent the night; the way his pupils dilated whenever you wore one of his shirts with nothing underneath, the way he made love to you as soon as he went back home, loving you hard enough for you to feel the trace of his fingers and the taste of his mouth whenever he had to leave again. Fingers through his hair as his mouth swallowed your moans, fingertips digging on your burning skin, teeth sinking on the flesh as he took you to paradise.
The way you found relief in his lips, kissing like there was no tomorrow and feeling like you couldn't get enough of each other. His tongue making you delirious, electrifying every inch of your skin.
Everything that came out of his mouth was dripping with honey, because he never wanted to see you upset, because he was your serotonin, because he simply was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were the same for him.
Or at least, that’s what you thought.
That’s why you couldn’t process the words that were falling from his mouth that night, after a month of not seeing each other for his comeback and promotions, he had come to your house, but as soon as you met his gaze, you knew something was wrong.
But you never thought it’d be something so horrible.
He had appeared at your place to tell you he had kissed a female back dancer a week before.
“No.” You laughed humorlessly as you shook your head. “It’s impossible. That did not happen.”
His eyes were filled with hurt and remorse, the more he noticed your denial, the worse he felt.
“y/n… I- I’m so sorry… Fuck I’m sorry. I swear I love you. I’m such an asshole.”
“Joshua, please stop. This is not a funny joke.”
“How can you think I would joke with something like this?” He asked in frustration, running his fingers through his hair.
And you were well aware of it not being a joke in the slightest. The way you could feel cold sweat running down your spine and your stomach churn kept trying to pull your feet back to the ground. But you would try to trick the fate and desperately conjure the truth you wanted to take place.
“Because there’s no way you’d do something like that. You love me, right? You’ve done nothing but show me how much you do.”
Joshua swallowed, tears burning his eyes and threatening to fall.
“I do love you. More than anything.” He assured. “That’s why I’m here, that’s why I can’t stand the idea of what I did behind your back. I kissed someone else while you stayed home and gave me all of your trust.” He repeated. “I regret it every second because I know how much I just fucked up… But I can’t cope with the idea of you trying to dismiss it. I don’t deserve it.”
"Joshua"
He shook his head, stepping closer and grabbing your hands in his.
"Please, please don't give me a chance to stay by your side because I will not hesitate to take it and I don't deserve to be with someone like you." His voice was so sweet, so subtle despite of him saying something so devastating. His hand moved to tuck a strand of hair behind you ear like he always did, retreating as soon as the guilt attacked him again. "You're so beautiful, so smart, sweet and bright and I'm so, so in love with you. It kills me to know I just ruined everything with the woman I love the most in such a dumb way."
You noticed the way his eyes were getting watery, another thing that made you realize how real it was. You wanted to hate him and tell him how much of a dick he was, but nothing came out of your mouth. You just couldn't, although you knew you should have, you could not bring yourself to hate him.
“You- No, listen Joshua…” You trailed off, heart finally breaking in a million pieces as you tried your best to convince yourself that everything was nothing but a twisted dream. “I know you would never hurt me like that. You would never cheat on me. Why would you? That’s ridiculous! You know that I'd do anything for you, right? You know that I love you more than anything. We’ve always had this chemistry, this peaceful and beautiful relationship. You’ve never given me any reasons to be jealous or to feel insecure, someone like that wouldn’t go against his own preach.” You tried to reason, a bitter chuckle slipping from your lips as you wiped your tears “See, I know you’re just such a gentleman that you’d rather put the blame on your shoulders than say she was the one who took advantage of you and kissed you. You’re a gorgeous guy, it must be hard for people not to throw themselv-"
“Why are you trying so desperately to excuse my actions?" He interrupted you in distress. "Babe, I- I don’t deserve it. I was the one who kissed her. While we danced the atmosphere got tense, the adrenaline did not help, and I just had the impulse.” Joshua said lowly, the knot in his throat becoming thicker and making it hard for him to breathe. “I’m so sorry... Why can't you just blame me for what I did? Just tell me how much of a piece of shit I am, slap me, tell me you don't want to see me again. Call me a dickhead, the worst thing that happened to you, I'll take it all, because I fucked up.”
You forced yourself to step back, the air in your lungs slowly fading away as the void in your chest grew bigger.
“No... I- I can't... Because you would never do something so vile.” You smiled, not noticing the way your tears were already streaming down your cheeks. "You wouldn't throw all the beautiful things between us out of the window just to get your damn dick wet. Not when you told me so many times how you'd never want anyone else but me and I believed you because you looked me in the eyes."
Joshua pressed his eyes shut and took a deep, shaky breath as he stepped closer, but you stepped back.
"I do not want anyone else but you, but I stopped thinking and just let my primal self take control instead of considering what I got to lose."
"No!" You shouted. "You wouldn't! You're perfect!"
Joshua lowered his gaze to the floor, hands ballin into fists.
“I’m not perfect… I never was, I never will. No one is.” He whispered. "That's why I need to go before I keep hurting you. If you ask me to stay I will, and I can not let you accept me back."
And then you knew. The idea you had engraved in your head about love being a real fairytale was long gone, cause all it did was break, burn and end.
Your sweet boyfriend, the same who used to whisper how much he loved you against your lips, the same who washed your hair for you, the same who looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, was the same one who had stabbed you in the back.
Your lip quivered, and Joshua wanted desperately to wipe your tears away and hold you in his arms, but how could he? When he was the one who had hurt you in the first place, how could he ever fix up a heart he let down? He did not deserve to touch you ever again.
With a shaky breath, you forced the words out of your throat.
“That’s where the problem is, Joshua.” You said, voice cracking as his brows pulled together in confusion. “That’s why facing the truth will destroy every part of my being, that's why I will never be able to trust anyone again, that's why I don't want you to walk out the door. If you do, everything will be real, and the thing that would hurt the most is to realize all this time I stopped believing in my instincts, because I thought you were different, because I've always known perfection does not exist…" You explained, a small sob falling from your mouth and cutting you out before you continued. "But to me, you were perfect.”
#kpop#kpop idol#kpopidol#kpop bands#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#seventeen#svt#seventeen joshua#svt joshua#hong jisoo#joshua hong#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt reactions#angst#kpop smut
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In Case You Don’t Live Forever
~chapter three rewritten~
Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader
Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy
Series Masterlist
Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?
Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.
“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.
“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.
“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.
“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.
“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.
“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.
“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.
“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.
“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.
“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”
Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.
You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.
You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “
He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.
You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.
“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.
“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”
You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.
“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”
Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.
“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.
But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.
“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”
“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”
Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.
“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.
“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.
“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”
“May.” You repeated with a smile.
You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”
You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.
“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.
“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”
“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”
“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”
“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”
“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”
“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.
“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”
“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”
“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”
“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.
“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.
“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.
Oh great. Time for this conversation.
“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”
“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”
“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.
“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”
“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”
“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.
“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.
“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”
Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.
“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.
“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”
“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”
“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.
“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.
“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.
“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.
“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”
It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.
“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”
“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”
“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.
“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.
“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”
“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”
You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.
May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#iron man#peter parker imagine#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#peter parker x venom!reader#venom!reader
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Hiya, Mah! Please, if you feel like it, could you write something with: "9. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”? For whichever ship you want to :)
Hi! 💓
For you I wrote a missing moment with my all-time favourite Sixth Year Pining Harry. Hope you enjoy this moment and thank you so much for joining this silly game :)
__________
Harry registers the heavy scent of flowers even before he notices it’s Ginny who sat next to him on the couch. He flinches, not wanting her to be so near him, though it’s all for the wrong reasons.
It’s really hard to pretend he isn’t crazy about her when she is so close, wonderful perfume in the air, so near that he wonders how it would be to turn towards her and see her eyes sparkling with a surprise for a second as he would lean even closer, and then Harry would close his eyes and…
She has a boyfriend, stop it. She is not interested.
That thought never makes his dreams go away, though.
‘Ugh,’ Ginny complains, pressing her temples and Harry almost offers to replace her hands. He could massage her, that would be a friendly thing, right? Not really, he admits. ‘I’m too sober for this.’
She frees one hand to indicate everything around her. Fred and George are sitting together at another couch, face troubled after being reprimanded by their father; Mrs Weasley is crying in the kitchen, her husband holding her; Bill and Fleur are close by the Christmas tree, and Harry thinks Fleur is being very accomplished in easing Bill’s worries, so he turns his eyes away quickly.
Harry isn’t sure what’s upsetting Ginny more, but he knows he is the reason Christmas spirit is so low.
‘You don’t even drink,’ he notices grimly.
‘Maybe I should start.’ She opens one eye. ‘Do you think Mum would notice if I went to the liquor cabinet?’
‘Do you have one?’
‘No, probably not. Or else Fred and George would have discovered it already.’
‘They are of age. I’m sure they can provide you with some firewhiskey.’
‘Harry, Harry.’ Now she opens both eyes, looking more relaxed as she watches him with something close to amusement. ‘Shouldn’t you be talking me out of my underage drinking?’
He can’t help his smile. ‘I know that the easiest way to convince you to do anything is to forbid you.’
Ginny laughs. It’s not her brightest laugh, not with the mood still sober in the house—the Minister’s visit weighted them all—, but it’s nice all the same and it warms Harry more than the eggnog he drank.
‘You know me too well, Harry.’
He looks away carefully now. He noticed her, all right, but he doesn’t want her to see how much. It’s certainly more than reasonable for friends.
‘Better than most,’ she adds, somewhat heavier now, and Harry watches her again. Ginny is looking at the lights of the Christmas tree thoughtfully, seeming to even ignore her brother snogging her fiance next to it.
‘Got a problem?’
She blinks, snapping out of something. ‘Problem? No, I—’ she shakes her head. ‘Never mind, today was just a mess.’
‘I know. I’m really sorry.’
Ginny frowns. ‘Sorry for what?’
Harry sighs, glancing guiltily in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Well, Percy and the Minister—’
‘No one forced Percy to be a git, Harry,’ she says, somewhat more like herself suddenly. ‘He came here as the Minister’s lapdog because he wanted to.’
‘If it weren’t for me, he would still—’
‘Still be blissfully ignorant that You-Know-Who returned?’ she asks forcefully. ‘Find another stupid reason to betray his family?’
‘Yes,’ he agrees, sad. ‘But it wouldn’t be me.’
She shakes her head. ‘Stop it. Really. It’s his choices, and you’re not responsible for them.’
Harry doesn’t answer, stealing another glance to the kitchen. He can hear a sniffle coming from there.
‘No one blames you, Harry, especially not Mum.’
He looks back at her, almost smiling. ‘Sometimes it's like you are reading my mind.'
And then he wonders if it wouldn't just be easy if that was the case; if Ginny could just see how he feels about her, how she is so bright and how much... How much she visits his dreams.
Maybe it's good she can't read him that well.
'I know you too,' she answers calmly. 'If you are not blaming yourself for something, you call it a bad day.'
'I can not blame myself… some days.'
She raises her fist, holding an imaginary cup.
'To only blaming yourself for things that are under your control,' Ginny declares, and Harry toasts playfully with her.
Ginny blinks, taking a deep breath, then she picks up a book that was standing on the coffee table in front of them, flipping through it. Harry notices all pages are blank.
'It's a sketchbook,' she says, knowing he is looking. 'Dean gave me for Christmas.'
'Oh.' A weight drops in his stomach, unpleasant. 'Nice.'
'Yeah, I told him I wished I could draw like him and he thought I could begin…'
She looks a little troubled at the book and Harry suddenly knows what's on her mind.
'It's just a sketchbook. Nothing else.'
'I… I know.' Ginny sighs. 'Blame ourselves only for what we can control, right?'
'Right.' He smiles. As jealous as he feels about Dean giving her a Christmas gift, he decides that making her feel better is more important. 'What are you going to draw?'
Ginny grins as if unable to resist his joyfulness. 'Oh, I don't know. Nothing probably. When I said I wished I could draw like him it was more wishful thinking, not that I really wanted to do it. I am no artist.'
Harry indicates the room, so bright with the paper decoration she had spent hours doing. 'I don't know, decoration is stylish here.'
'Thanks,' she laughs, not really taking him seriously. 'Well, I can't draw still. I have no patience for it.'
'Then let's not draw.' He looks around until he finds a quill and ink. 'Doodle. Write a short story.'
'I could write a poem,' she says, just a really teasing, a blush coming to her cheeks.
Heat creeps upon his neck too.
'You are good with rhymes,' he whispers.
There is a moment of silence, and Harry feels Ginny's eyes over him as if she is trying to assess if he is messing with her or, somehow, really complimenting her for her valentine's card from years ago.
Again, he almost wishes she could read her mind.
Then she lets out a sigh, placing the quill over the first page of the sketchbook and drawing a grid. She draws a cross at the middle of it, watching the ink dry before offering him the quill.
'Your turn.'
Their hands brush when he goes to pick the quill and for a moment, three very short and very long seconds, their eyes meet. Maybe she can read his mind after all, because her eyes are sparkling, a blazing look on them, and she has to know how he feels about her because he is sure he is matching her gaze. The same longing, the same emotions, the same urge to just lean in and…
They blink at the same time. Harry draws the nought anywhere, not really paying attention, but Ginny ends up allowing a draw.
At the end of the game, she looks at their art, that silly game of noughts and crosses that is the only thing in the sketchbook, a satisfied smile on her lips as if that's the kind of thing she wants to fill those pages with.
Harry wonders if she wants to fill pages with him too.
'Another match?'
Harry can't refuse her.
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Please join me in this birthday special (asking for a prompt! Let me see your work too! 😍)
#hinny#harry and ginny#missing moment#harry feels really romantic when he is pining#pining harry#i wrote like that because i cant draw either#t: fanfiction#birthday prompts
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Heart-Shaped Box💟9/End
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), forced pregnancy, some violence, intimidation, some elements untagged for sake of plot.
This is dark!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Sister Series: Get Your Fix
Summary: You accept a job as an au pair, but not all is as it seems.
Note: Finally finishing this one up. Sorry it took me ages but I’m doing my best to go back and wrap up whatever I can.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Masterlist
Bucky pulled out of you as he held your head down, bouncing the bed beneath you as he pushed himself onto his back. You panted as your sweat dampened the sheet beneath you and he leaked between your thighs. You winced as you rolled onto your side and slowly sat up.
He had you whining loud enough that you had no doubt your guests heard it all. It only seemed to encourage his partner-in-crime as you soon heard a similar scene on the other side of the wall. You were sickened by that noise and stood warily as you cupped your hand over your cunt and scooped up his cum before it could drip onto the floor.
“I told you to keep it down,” he snickered and sat up, his muscled back to you as he stretched his arms above him, “get the shower started, I’ll be in shortly. You girls have a lot of work to do today.”
You grumbled and dragged your feet to the attached bathroom. The low buzz of the pipes filled the silence and you stepped under the steamy water. The moment of calm broke sharply as Bucky appeared from the other side of the curtain and stepped in behind you. He had you clean him with a lathered loofah and you bore it only for the eventuality of time away from him.
The other woman meant you wouldn’t be trapped with just him. It was little help or hope but it was better than your former solitary torture.
You dressed in black dress with daisies and made yourself look like his perfect housewife. You couldn’t hold the smile and make him believe it all the way but he wouldn’t anyway. He flicked your chin and clicked his tongue.
“Mmm, you’re getting there,” he mused as he dropped his hand and reached around to slap your ass, “better go get breakfast on. I’ll check in on our guests.” He squeezed and winked, “be a good girl.”
Those words made your insides curdled but you swallowed your disgust and nodded, “yes, sir.”
He stepped out behind you and watched you go down the hall to the stairs and you heard him knock on the door as you descended. You went to the kitchen and pulled out the frying pan and the coconut oil. You lined up the ingredients for crepes on the counter and took two bananas from the yellow bunch. Your mother used to make the oversweet delicacy and you needed a reminder that you were still that girl.
You stopped as you searched for something to keep the crepes warm after you assembled them, a lid that could fit over the plate or something akin to it. The lower cupboards you rarely opened. Bucky left the cleaning supplies on the counter with your chore list every day and you never bothered to look for anything else.
You stopped and stared at the drain cleaner and the can of toxic oven spray. Well, that wouldn’t be subtle enough, would it? They’d smell either of those a mile away. Anything under the counter would be easily discovered but it did give you an idea.
You closed the wooden door and went back to your task. You heard the voices in the next room and the scrape of the chairs on the floor. Steve’s girl appeared in the doorway, rubbing her stomach as her face contorted.
“Smells sweet,” she said as you simmered the bananas with brown sugar, cinnamon, and a little butter, “almost too sweet.”
“Morning sickness?” you asked innocently.
“All the time sickness,” she sighed, “anything I can help with?”
“Do you know how to make crepes?” you asked as you whisked the batter.
“Not really,” she shrugged, “but I can learn.”
“It’s easy. Takes less than a minute,” you waved her over and tested the temperature of the pan with a flick of water, “so you wanna put just a little batter in…” you ladled in a careful dollop and lifted the pan, “you spread it like this,” you tilted it so the batter spread all around, “you just use the spatula a little on the edges to make sure they don’t stick and you flip.”
It was like second nature and she nodded quietly as she watched. The crepe cooked quickly and you threw it onto a plate and put the pan back to the burner.
“You think you can handle that?” you covered the plate with the lid of a pat to keep it warm. “Then we put some of the bananas and wrap them, bit of cream on top and some icing sugar…”
“You like to cook?” she wondered as she added batter to the hot pan.
“Not particularly, but my mother taught me,” you shrugged, “she can cook anything.”
“Oh,” she flipped the crepe and glanced at the door, “I suppose… it keeps him happy.”
“He’s never happy,” you murmured and cleared your throat, “so, you must be excited to move in!”
“I guess,” she slid the crepe onto the plate as you lifted the foggy lid, “you know how it is.”
You smiled and she tilted her head as she squinted at you. You went to the drawer where there was a box of blank recipe cards and continued speaking as you fished out a pencil from another.
“It’s always nice to get settled,” you said as you wrote, ‘they can hear us’.
“I suppose, nice to be in one place,” she replied stiffly as her features relaxed.
‘I have a plan,’ you wrote and raised your voice just slightly, “oh, you know, we didn’t even get you a housewarming gift. I’ll have to remind James.”
You went to the burner and held out the card under the coil until it caught. You threw it into the sink and watched it burn and curl. You ran water over it as it turned to ash and washed it away. You nudged the bowl towards her and leaned on the counter, “need help with that?”
“No,” she said as she started again, “I’m getting the hang of it.”
💟
You looked around the front room of the house next door. Steve’s girl opened one of the stacked boxes. For once, the men were gone and you could just enjoy their absence.
Bucky agreed that a gift was in order and Steve had mentioned wanting to explore their new hometown. You tried not to seem eager but even the small walk across the lawns enlivened you. How long had it been since you’d been outside?
You started with the pictures. You left the frames in a stack as she assured you Steve would put the nails in and hang them. Then you moved onto the kitchenware and you kept her from lifting the heavy box of dishes. She seemed to forget about her condition and the reminder made her frown.
You stood behind the counter and set the dishes in the cupboards one at a time, the plates clacking one on top of each other. She watched from the other side as she arranged the silverware in the plastic tray.
“Can you do me a favour?” you asked as you kept on.
“What?” she asked as she dropped a butter knife with the rest.
“I know they’ve locked us in but can you check the garage door? Can we get in there?” you asked evenly.
“What?” she blinked and pushed herself straight, “even if we can, they won’t have been stupid enough--”
“That’s not what I’m worried about. I know we can’t get out that way either. It’s the same at our house. Everything is bolted up tight.” You assured her, “just go and check while I get these sorted.”
She left you and you snapped shut the door and finished with the utensils. You slid the tray into the drawer as she returned, rubbing her stomach.
“Yeah, we can get in but it’s mostly empty,” she said, “so…”
“Mostly empty?”
“Yeah, just the car--”
“The car,” you rounded the counter and curled two fingers for her to follow you.
You headed for the plain white door that led to the garage. You hopped down the steps as she remained at the top and watched you tentatively. You went to the car as she crossed her arms.
“He took the keys,” she said.
You tried the handle and the door opened. “I know,” you said as you put a knee in the front seat and peered into the back. Nothing.
You felt around under the dash and found the lever for the trunk. You pulled it and it popped. You shut the door and went around the back of the car. You felt around the spare tire and your hand felt something plastic. You grabbed the handle of the half-filled jug and pulled it out.
“Hey,” you held up the bright blue anti-freeze, “do you wanna cook dinner here tonight? A housewarming dinner?”
Her brows knitted and she gave a long blink. Her lips parted then curved.
“You can’t mean--” she let out a scoff.
“It’s sweet. Hopefully they won’t notice if I add enough sugar to the cake,” you breathed, “we can’t let them settle. This is our chance.”
“I don’t-- I don’t know. What if it doesn’t work?”
“Then we’re still in the same boat,” you turned your free hand out, “that man has drugged me for months. I think it’s only fair that he gets a taste of his own medicine.”
She swallowed and looked down at her stomach. She inhaled and cradled her bump. “It can’t get worse than this, can it?”
💟
You spent the day unpacking, the distraction not much of one as you thought of the bottle you hid at the back of the cupboard. By the time the men returned, you were ready to move onto the second floor.
Bucky offered a bottle of non-alcoholic wine and basket of expensive macarons as your gift to your new neighbours. He forced a kiss from you before he let you follow Steve’s girl upstairs.
You sat in the bedroom and heard the men ascend shortly after. You peeked in on them as you opened the linen closet to shove in the spare sheets. They were hammering together a crib. You knocked lightly on the doorframe as you watched them.
“Huh, what’s going on?” Bucky looked up from the directions.
“Um, we were just… thinking, we could have dinner here tonight? A little housewarmer? I could grab some ingredients from ours--”
“Give me a list, I’ll grab it,” Bucky puffed as he bent to help hold the rail in place for Steve, “that sound okay?”
“Fine by me,” Steve smiled, “it’ll be nice to have our feet on solid ground.”
You left them and returned to your only ally as she sat on the bed and stared at a packet of pills. She crushed it in her grasp and huffed. She flicked away tears with her knuckles. She tossed them over her shoulder.
“He kept them,” she snarled, “it’s like he’s mocking me.”
“What?” you neared her and sat carefully beside her.
“I never… I worked with him, you know? He brought me these drinks and I didn’t realise he was dosing them. The stuff, it made me itchy… it made me so hot and I just needed anything. I hopped on him I was so desperate and-- I told him to stay away. I realised what he’d done and I told him to leave me alone and you know what he did,” she crossed her arms over her stomach.
“No, I--” you touched her elbow.
“He broke into my apartment and replaced my pills. And he didn’t leave me alone,” she spat, “he did this all and he still has the goddamn pills like they’re some sort of trophy.”
She hung her head and grunted in frustration. You leaned against her and put your arm over her shoulders. She let you and the tension drained from her body.
“Even if we get out…” she whispered, “I’ll always have this piece of him.”
She pressed her palms to her stomach and you frowned. There was nothing you could do or say. You’d been lucky so far, even if it only fed your suffering. You didn’t have another life to worry about.
“We don’t have to if--”
“I want to,” she hissed lowly, “I want him dead.”
💟
Usually, you tasted the icing and licked the spoon. Not that night. The blue shade of the frosting was anything but suspicious as you spread it over the fluffy cake. It was a perfect disguise. You topped it with blueberries to add to the theme and dusted on a few coloured sprinkles. You stood back and admired your work as the smell of garlic filled the kitchen.
“I know it’s not much,” Steve’s girl said as she stirred the sauce, “but it’s what I can manage.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” you said as you took the meatballs of the burner and tested the spaghetti, “noodles are perfect.”
You strained the pasta and helped pour the meatballs into the sauce. You mixed it up and poured it into a large glass dish and the noodles into another. You brought them out to the table and called the men to dinner before you fetched the wine, both alcoholic and not.
Steve’s girl sat as you poured a glass for each of you and the men sat. You set the bottle down and nestled in next to Bucky as he served himself. When the plates were full, the other woman nudged Steve and whispered in his ear.
He cleared his throat and stood, “um, I know it’s just us but I guess I should say thank you for all the help and we’re excited to be neighbours… can’t wait for the kids to be running around these halls together.”
“Mmm,” Bucky lifted his glass, “hopefully…” he muttered doubtfully and looked at you, “that better be what she’s having,” he nodded to your glass.
You held it out for him to sniff and he gave you a sour look. He tutted and sat back to twirl noodles around his fork as he set aside his glass. You took a sip of the gutless wine and speared a meatball on your tines. You chewed and looked at Steve’s girl. She let Steve rub her thigh under the table and forced a smile.
She was playing it well and you felt as if you would fall apart. You felt as if Bucky would see right through you the minute you walked in with the cake. What would he do then? Steve couldn’t hurt his girl, she had the baby, but you, Bucky could replace you still. Maybe that was for the best but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless.
You cleared the plates and retreated to the kitchen. Just you. You’d gone over it, you didn’t want them to catch on. You didn’t get too close with them around, you acted like strangers, you really were after all.
You sliced the cake into careful portions and came out with two plates at a time. You put them in front of each chair and sat. As you did, Steve’s girl covered her mouth and gagged. She pushed herself up unsteadily.
“Honey?” Steve asked as he rubbed her lower back.
“It’s the baby I--” she gulped sickeningly, “I gotta--”
She rushed out and Steve gave a look, “nausea. It’s been like this for weeks.”
“I’m going to make sure she’s okay,” you stood, “go ahead and start without us.”
You went down the hall and as you neared the bathroom, Steve’s girl opened the door and pulled you inside. She looked genuinely sick and you smelled vomit on her breath. She turned and rinsed her mouth and shuddered.
“I didn’t actually feel sick until I got in here,” she wiped her face with the hand cloth, “when I realised--”
“Everything’s in the trunk,” you assured her, “once they’re out, we get the keys and go.”
“How do we know--”
“Retch,” you hissed, “we wait until we’re sure.”
She gave an exaggerated hurl and you heard the clink of porcelain and silver and the drone of voices. You listened through the door as she watched you in the tight space of the half-bath.
“I’m thinking about getting her an… exam,” Bucky’s deep tone carried, “maybe she can’t…”
You let out the breath you were holding and closed your eyes. Just a little longer.
When you heard a sudden lull, your eyes rounded and you turned the handle and let yourself out into the hall. She crept close behind as you peered through the open archway. Both men had their faces on their plates in the crumbs of vanilla cake and smears of blue icing.
“Let’s go,” you went to Steve and shoved your hand into his pocket, “shit, they’re not here.”
“Here!” she pulled her hand from his jacket hung on the rack, “you think they’re dead?”
You looked from one to the other and shakily felt along Steve’s neck. “Still a pulse. I think maybe… they’re only knocked out.”
“The serum,” she shook her head, “means we have to go quick.”
You hurried after her and followed her down into the garage. She climbed into the driver’s seat and moved it back as her stomach pressed to the wheel. You got in the other side as your body trembled with adrenaline. She hit the button attached to the keys and the door slowly raised behind her.
As she reversed, you felt a sudden shock around your neck and yiped. You’d forgotten entirely about the necklace. She stopped suddenly and watched you writhe in agony.
“Shit, shit,” you leaned forward until the shock stopped, “the necklace.”
“Fuck,” she reached for it and you batted her away.
“No, you’ll get zapped,” you gasped as you pulled on it desperately. It was too tight to get past your chin but too strong to snap.
She took the keys out and tossed them in your lap. You lifted them and twisted the necklace around the house key but there was no give. You sobbed and dropped your hand.
“I can’t,” you looked at the bent key, “you gotta go without me.”
“What? No, I can’t--”
“You have a baby,” you said as tears burned in your eyes and your throat tightened, “go, please.” You dropped the keys on the dash and opened the door. “I can’t--”
“No, you have to come with me,” she begged.
“No, you have to go before they wake up,” you got out as you grasped your neck, the searing pain still hot on your flesh, “I’ll… I’ll survive. I have this far.”
“N--”
“Shut up!” you slammed the door and hit the hood, “go!”
She stared at you and her lip quivered. She gave you one last sad look and grabbed the keys. She sniffed as she gripped the wheel and backed out down the drive.
You fell to your knees and sat back on your ass as you watched her drive away. You shook your head and held it in your hands as you sat behind the invisible wall of your prison.
The tires screamed at the end of the street and the noise of the engine faded into the distance. You laid on your back across the concrete and covered your face with your arm. At least you could live with knowing you got her out. Well, you couldn’t really say you’d be living. You’d be alive but little more than that.
But you’d survive knowing that you kept one person from that pitiful fate. Even if it wasn’t you. Even if you knew that you would pay for it in the end. Even when those men woke up and found you laying in the garage, the sweet flavour of antifreeze on their tongues as the bile of their anger overflowed and drowned you.
You couldn’t do anything but wait. If you were lucky, they might just kill you and that in itself would be freedom.
💟 💟 💟
END
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#fic#Heart-Shaped Box#dark fic#dark!fic#series#mcu#marvel#winter soldier#captain america#avengers#steve rogers
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