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berryhobii · 2 days

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Class In Session(jhs x reader)

Pairing: DanceInstructor!Jung Hoseok x Stripper!Black!Female!Reader

Word Count: 7.8K+

Warnings: infatuated and sweetly in love Hoseok and reader, they’re both so adorable in this, hints of self deprecation, mentions of objectifying women/strippers, mentions of stripping being a shameful job, mentions of reader having previously toxic relationships(I don’t go super in detail), lying, feelings of inadequacy, lots of sad tears and happy tears🩵

A/N: I’m here with the first part of my Hoseok x stripper!reader story. Thanks for everyone who’s been waiting. This story turned out a little more emotional than I thought but after watching Hoseok’s documentaries, I’ve been really in my feelings about him😭he’s just seems so sweet and genuine which I tried to convey here. Aside from that, the smut will be in Part 2 that I’ll upload at the same time as this so don’t worry. I couldn’t not write a stripper story and not include some sexy pole dancing and super nasty smut so please read that as well! As for reader, while I don’t explicitly mention it too much, reader is on the short side, has dark brown skin and has almond shaped eyes. Reader is also wearing wigs; a burgundy one and a gray one. I’m pretty sure that’s it! As always, criticism is welcome and please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think. Until next time!🩵🩵much love

Read the smut for this couple here!

When Hoseok first laid eyes on you, he thought two words and two words only.

Hot Damn.

His hip hop dance class was about to start, his smile bright as he greeted his students and a few people who worked at the community center. He’s only been teaching for about 6 months but everyone had been so kind and welcoming, always inviting him to join them for drinks or to the recitals at the children’s center. He loved surrounding himself with so many people who loved dance just as much as him. He got to see all types of styles at different levels of experience and it was truly eye opening. He particularly loved the ballet class. How did they stand on their toes like that? He wished he knew how to do that.

Just as he was about to enter his dance studio, a voice calling his name stopped him.

“Hobi hyung!”

He turned, catching sight of Jungkook, one of the art volunteers. He’s helped paint all of the murals inside each studio and his class were currently creating pieces for an upcoming exhibition. Hoseok’s seen some of the work and must he say, these people were incredibly talented. One painting was a portrait that looked exactly like a photo. It was breathtaking.

“Hey Jungkook. What’s up?”

“Did you hear about the new class opening in Studio B?”

He had overheard it during breaks but he didn’t know much about it. Whatever it was, he was sure it would be interesting. There were still so many styles of dance the center didn’t have so he was excited to know what kind of class it was.

“No I haven’t. Is today the first class?”

Jungkook’s cheeky smile scared him a little. The tatted man could certainly be on the mischievous side. He scared the pants off Hoseok and many others during their haunted house last year and continued to wear the ghost mask to randomly frighten Hoseok for another week.

“Yeah. Wanna go check it out?”

Well, Hoseok’s class didn’t start for another half hour. He just liked to come a little early to set up the music and look through footage of past classes to know what his students need to work on.

“Sure.” He dropped his bag in his classroom before following Jungkook back through the lobby and down another hallway. Nothing really looked out of the ordinary.

Then they reached Studio B, the wall made of glass so that you could look right inside and what he saw made his jaw drop hard enough to hurt.

Poles. A bunch of them all spread apart so that everyone had enough space.

And on the pole at the front of class was a person spinning on it upside down, legs dropped in a split. When their stilettos hit the ground, loosely curled burgundyhair whipping up and settling over their shoulders, almond shaped eyes meeting his through the glass….

Hot Damn.

“She’s smoking, right? I met her last week and she was wearing these tiny shorts that made her ass look fantastic.”

The shorts you were wearing now was making it look just as amazing. He could only imagine what Jungkook saw last week.

Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, ankle bootie stilettos were on your feet and your outfit was comprised of tiny sparkly spandex shorts with a matching bra.

Your clothes allowed him to appreciate the beauty of your lustrous skin, an expanse of dark umber. It was like the sun spent a little more time adoring you.

Hoseok doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so……majestic.

“She’s……woah.” He breathed out.

You must have read his lips because you flashed him a smirk, your red stained lips reminding him of the sweetest berries. He wondered how they tasted….

“Let’s go in and introduce ourselves.” Jungkook suddenly said, steering to the open door.

It took a few seconds for Hoseok’s brain to understand his native language, his eyes blinking frantically as he finally processed what Jungkook said.

“Wait what?” He gasped, rushing after the man who was already in the room. You had just caught him staring at you. As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, now he had to attempt to not stutter through an introduction? Who was he? A wizard? Only magic would be able to fight through this degree of embarrassment.

He followed behind Jungkook, contemplating hiding like a child behind their mother but then he thought—I’m a grown ass man! Why is he acting so afraid of meeting a new person? Among most people, he was incredibly social and extroverted, always happy to meet someone new. Even his students had labeled him as Sunshine after his bright smile and infectious laughter.

So why the hell were his palms beginning to sweat as he got closer to you?

Jungkook was the first to extend a greeting. “Hey, that was pretty cool. When they were constructing this room, I didn’t think it was to add poles.”

“Yeah. A friend of mine donated these after he purchased an old dance studio and turned it into a clothing store.”

“That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you and your new students. By the way, I’m Jungkook. I’m one of the art teachers.” He held out a hand for you to shake but you held your hand up instead.

“Sorry. Pole grip. Don’t want to get it on you.”

Jungkook laughed. “I get it. I’ve always wondered how you don’t slide off.”

“I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

Then your eyes went to Hoseok and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt his anxious in his life. You were even more gorgeous up close.

He swallowed the block in this throat before introducing himself. “I’m Hoseok. I teach dance.” Stand up job, genius.

If you noticed his stiffness, you didn’t say anything, just nodding and smiling. “y/n, it’s nice to meet you. What class do you teach?”

What class did he teach again? It was hard to remember when your sultry eyes were staring at him like he was the last piece of cheesecake at the factory.

“Uh…..hip hop. I’m in Studio E.”

You hummed. “That’s cool. I learned hip hop back home but I haven’t done it in a while. I’d love to pop into your class one time and watch you work.”

He didn’t think he could handle that type of pressure. He was struggling to keep it together right now. Imagine him trying to dance while you watched. That wouldn’t go well.

He nervously chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah….me too.” His eyes widened at the realization of what he just said. “Oh! I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

You raised an eyebrow, a bit confused by his sudden panic. He just said he wanted to pop into your class as well. What was the issue?

“Uh okay. I’ll look forward to it.” You politely smiled.

Jungkook decided to stop this train before it crashed. “Pop into my class too. We’re doing pottery next week.”

“I’ll do that. I’ve never done pottery before.”

After a little more light conversation, your students began to enter the room, telling the men that classes were about to start. You bid them both farewell with a wave and a polite smile.

Even your smile was pretty…..

The next month passed by quickly. You had settled in nicely to the center, everyone had welcomed you warmly and praised you for offering such a wonderful class. You’ve even given a few lessons to some of the other employees.

And you actually did stop by in Hoseok’s class one evening after yours finished a little early. He was in the middle of running through a popping isolation when you quietly entered. He didn’t notice you at first, focused on making sure his students were following him closely. He also didn’t notice how your eyes ran up his tank top clad body, taking note of how his shirt stuck to him and highlighted each dip of his abs.

Hmm.

You stayed until he dismissed his class. A few of them politely bowed to you on their way out, filing out until you and him were the only ones in the room. He hadn’t noticed you yet, gulping down water with his head tilted back. Sweat dripped down his throat, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.

You waited until he had finished his water before you spoke, “nice work today.”

He startled. Well, more like jumped like he was being electrocuted, a small scream coming from him before he whipped his head around to see who had frightened him.

Once he saw you, he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. It was different letting Jungkook see him afraid but for you? Those were not the signals he wanted to be sending.

However, you didn’t laugh. You simply raised a perfectly done eyebrow and for some reason, he felt like that was even worse. He wished you would have laughed. Now it just felt like you were silently judging him.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to alleviate some of the awkwardness. “Hey. Um….what are you, uh, what’s up?”

“I was watching you teach. You’re really good and your students follow you well.”

That put a genuine smile on his face. He prided himself on being the best mentor for his students and having a wonderful relationship with them. They all ranged from a spectrum of backgrounds; single parents, autistic, recovering from injuries, and so many more. And he cared for and appreciated each one, his heart feeling warm at watching them grow and have fun. That’s why he loved what he did—to see others become confident in something they never thought they could do.

“Thanks. They’ve all improved so much. I cherish each one, one’s that have left us as well. I can only hope I’ve made an impact in them, no matter how small.”

“I’m sure you have. Just from my short time here, I can tell everyone adores you. You seem like a very warm person.”

He could feel the sincerity rolling off your tongue, his eyes finally stopping their nervous flickering to meet yours.

Wow. You were just….

“I can see that with you as well. Your class always looks so riveting and fun.”

“You’ve seen my class?” The corner of your lips quirked up, eyes lighting up with a curious glint.

Realization struck him, eyes widening to the size of saucers. “Ah! I mean….well, the glass, and the bathrooms are down that hall! I was just passing by.” He gesticulated with his hands, waving them around and amusing you so.

Cute.

Your little chuckle made heat rise to his ears, embarrassment eating at his stomach. He was totally blowing this! Hoseok didn’t consider himself the smoothest(obviously by how he was reacting to the short interaction) but he just knew he had more in him. He could do better but you were just scrambling his brain, making it hard for him to gather his thoughts. His family and friends would have laughed if they could see their talkative and optimistic Hoseok floundering like this in the presence of a beautiful woman.

Worrying his lip between his teeth, he contemplated asking you a question. One that could possibly make or break your small acquaintance but he felt like if he didn’t ask, he never would.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to say, “y/n, are you free tonight?” He held his breath, clenching his eyes shut and waiting for your response. Would you reject him? What if you already had a lover? What if you said yes?

After a few seconds, you answered.

“I’m not.”

Store that for his 3AM random depression parties where his brain reminded him of all of the failures throughout his life.

His shoulders slumped, letting out the breath he was holding. Humiliation immediately swallowed his small burst of confidence. Of course you weren’t free. Why would someone as gorgeous as you not have things to do?

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“I have to work but I’m free tomorrow night if that aligns with your schedule.”

He snapped his head up so fast that his head could have come off.

You….what?

He must have said that out loud because you repeated yourself. “I’m free tomorrow. Why do you ask?”

Wow. He didn’t think he’d get that far so now he was blanking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish in a bowl.

“Uh….” (Speak idiot! She’s talking to you! She said yes! Ask her out!)

The confidence of his inner voice did not transfer to his outer. He was still trying to comprehend the fact that you actually accepted his date proposal.

After watching him buffer for a moment longer, you decided to speak up yet again. “How about you pick me up tomorrow at 7? Here.” You reached into your dance bag, pulling out a pen and a small notepad of sticky notes, writing something down on it. Putting the pen back, you plucked off the note and stuck it to his shirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That’s all you said before turning around to strut out of his studio. He pulled the note off his chest to read it, finding your phone number written in your pretty handwriting.

A date. He was going to take you out on a date.

He had to buy a new outfit!

Hoseok’s first date with you actually went better than expected. After pacing a hole in his floor, he texted you that next morning to confirm. Part just to let you know he was still very much interested and another part to confirm if you were.

He hasn’t been on a date in forever so he spent extra time getting ready, even FaceTiming his stylist friend for some pointers.

“You look fine, hyung. Black suits you(ha!).” Jimin reassured as he smoothed the mask over his face. Hoseok called him right in the middle of his million step nighttime routine. He cared about his friends but he’d be damned if he let their worries disrupt him from preventing wrinkles.

Hoseok didn’t believe it though which was kind of defeating the purpose of the call. “Are you sure? Is this material too basic? I have a black silk one too. Would that seem too pretentious?”

Turning on his humidifier, Jimin let out a sigh. “Yes it would. I’m telling you that you look great. It’s just dinner. You’ve already made an….okay first impression. I’m sure she won’t care that much about if you wear silk or cotton.”

Jimin’s inflection reminded Hoseok on just how anxious he was about this night. He was totally gonna blow it!

“You know what? I should just wear the silk one.” Rushing over to his closet, he began tossing all of his clothes out in search of the shirt.

“Isn’t it almost 7? You’re gonna be late.”

Hoseok’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, wrist flying up to check his watch. Oh shit!

“I gotta go, Jimin!”

Jimin waved, a chuckle shaking his body. “Good luck. Chew some gum.”

Hoseok exhaled a deep breath as he stood outside of your apartment complex. He had texted you about 3 minutes ago saying he was downstairs, only receiving a ‘be down soon’ from you in response.

He tried to settle his racing heart, constantly checking himself in his side mirror and gripping the flowers he got you tighter in his hands, the paper crinkling and filling his ears with static.

Why was he so nervous? Was it because he hasn’t been on a date in a while? Or because you were so gorgeous that it made him feel like he was going to combust at the thought of ruining this date? Perhaps both.

While he was busy fussing over his hair, he didn’t even hear the clicking of your heels against the pavement.

You didn’t immediately make yourself known to him, instead watching in amusement as he smoothed down his eyebrows and constantly ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it look better. For some reason, you didn’t feel like he was vain. You actually thought he was quite adorable. Despite only knowing him in passing for about a month and hardly exchanging more than pleasantries, you found him very interesting and endearing. You could see his passion for dance, heard about how joyous and friendly he was to everyone, and witness stuttering and bashful side. You wanted to know more about him.

“Do I need to give you and yourself a moment?”

Scaring him was starting to become a little too common, much to his dismay. Was there no end to his suffering?

His body shot up rod straight, turning to face you.

“Ah! N-no! I was just….!”

This was the first time he heard your actual laugh, the music to his ears and the calm settling over the storm of butterflies in his tummy. What a delightful sound.

What was he so nervous for again?

Hoseok’s smile was winsome, lighting up his entire face and sparkling brighter than the streetlights that lined your block. As if the sun was shining in the middle of the night. It warmed your heart.

“These are for you.” He held out the delicately arranged bouquet.

Your eyes widened just a tad at the gift, pausing briefly. The slight hesitance brought his nerves back tenfold.

“Do….do you not like flowers? Are you allergic? Oh man, I didn’t even think about that! I’m sorry….I’ll just…I’ll-“

The feeling of your warm palm touching his hand made him freeze, his rambling stopping in his throat. Lifting his eyes, he was met with the gentleness of your almond shaped ones.

“No I’m not allergic.” You took the flowers from him, cradling them close and inhaling their floral perfume. “They’re beautiful, Hoseok. Thank you.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Fluttering eyelashes and a warm gaze met him, his heart thundering and ready to explode out of his chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered, flashing him a demure smile that could weaken anyone’s knees. “You look very handsome as well. I love your shirt.”

(Ha! I knew this shirt was the right choice.)

Exhaling a breath, Hoseok opened the passenger side door, holding out his hand for you to take.

And you did, your manicured hand sliding into his. He helped you into the car, making sure you were comfortable before closing the door. Rounding the vehicle, he jumped in and buckled his seatbelt, making sure yours was buckled too before starting the car and pulling off.

A comfortable silence settled in the car. Well, comfortable for you. Hoseok was almost pissing himself trying to think of a way to start conversation. The restaurant was only about 10 minutes away and the night was still young which meant there was plenty of time for you two to speak but still, he didn’t want to just sit in silence.

Ever so observant, you noticed his tapping fingers and shifting eyes. Some women would prefer a man who knew how to start and engage conversation at every moment but you were the type that didn’t mind taking the lead sometimes. Men got nervous too and not every man was the best at simple conversation which you acknowledged.

If anything, you found it sort of endearing.

“This is cute.” Pointing to the little air freshener that was clipped to the vents on his dashboard. It was a tiny horse character on top of a macaroon, a surprisingly cute addition to such a suave car.

Hoseok glanced to what you were talking about. His eyes widened, internally cursing himself for forgetting to take that out.

“Oh…uh yeah.” He swallowed thickly.

“Mang is my favorite character too.”

Okay, this had to be a dream. You were already too good to be true and he barely knew you.

“You like BT21?”

You giggled, opening your purse and digging around before pulling out your keys. The multiple keychains jingled against one another, filling the silence of the car.

Hoseok slowed down to a stop at a red light, taking this moment to turn and look at your keys.

He laughed when he saw the multiple colorful trinkets hanging from them; from an acrylic baby RJ to a snow jacket wrapped Koya, all the way to a dragon costume wearing Mang.

“Wow. You really do. And on another note, are you secretly a janitor with all those keys?”

Your hand reached out to push his arm as you both laughed. “Hey, I have you know each of these keys are very important.”

“Oh yeah?” He pointed to a random key. “What’s that one for?”

You studied it for a brief moment. “That’s uh….that’s for…” Tilting your head and furrowing your brows in deep thought, the key suddenly looking very foreign. Maybe if you act like you know what you’re talking about, you’d sound more convincing. “It…” You kiss your teeth before dropping the keys unceremoniously back in your purse. “It unlocks something.”

The belly laughter that left Hoseok was infectious, you joining in and filling the car with the cacophony of your joy. You two were so absorbed in one another that Hoseok didn’t even notice the light had turned green, the honk of a car behind him making him remember what he was doing.

Your body was slightly jerked back, your giggles dying down.

“Your janitor keys got us honked at.” Hoseok teased, glancing over at you again. It was hard not to when your face was so lit up, when your smile was so stunning.

You tsked playfully, waving your hand around. “Don’t blame my keys on your bad driving habits. That’s what you get for making fun of me.”

“Alright alright. I promise not to talk about your ridiculous amount of keys and keychains anymore……” You hummed, accepting his defeat and letting the car go silent again. “….unless we pass a school.”

“You know what?”

“My lady.” Hoseok held out his hand again to help you out of the car.

Playing along, you expressed, “Such a gentleman.”

After Hoseok gave his keys to the valet, he led you inside. You’ve never been to this restaurant before but judging by the interior and seasoned smells, you could tell you’d love it.

The host looked up from whatever he was doing at the podium, polite smile stretching across his face. “Ah, Mr. Jung. We were expecting you. Right this way to your table.”

Hoseok nodded, waving his arm to gesture for you to walk first.

You two were led to a table towards the middle of the grand space, soft piano music flowing and was that a waterfall wall? Wow, fancy fancy.

Hoseok pulled out your chair and waited for you to sit down before rounding the table to sit as well. The host gave both of you menus and informed you that your waiter would be with you shortly.

In prompt restaurant fashion, you both immediately opened your menus and scanned all of the choices.

“Have you been here before?” You asked.

He hummed. “I have. It’s one of my favorite places.”

Personally, you weren’t really the type to assume anything about someone’s dating life. Of course, sometimes that history could be useful to know since it could tell you how a person acts in relationships.

A part of you wanted to ask if this is his favorite restaurant because he brings many dates here but that was the kind of self sabotaging you were working on not showing.

“Well, it’s certainly a beautiful spot. Do you have any recommendations?”

It was like asking JLo about the imaginary block she claimed to spend her childhood on; his face brightening, head bobbing as he laid his menu out on the table to point to all of his favorites.

Honestly, you were only half listening to him, completely mesmerized by how adorable he was. Deep in your heart, you really hoped he would remain this way.

A few minutes more and your waiter came back with water, an appetizer that you don’t recall either of you requesting and to take your drink orders.

“Do you like wine? But we don’t have to drink if you’re not comfortable.”

Considerate: Check

“I’d love some. Thank you.”

“Red or white?”

Flipping your hair over your shoulder, you tilted your head, “surprise me.”

“Bring us a bottle of your finest Merlot.” The waiter nodded and wrote that down before asking if you were ready to order. “Yes. Bring us two of my usual please. Thank you.”

After the waitress left, you couldn’t help but wonder how well known at this restaurant he was to have a usual. He must really come here a lot or be someone important for the employees to know him. The host immediately knew who he was and they brought out an appetizer without either of you asking for it.

Your overthinking brain began to race; was this guy rich? Was he a celebrity? Would celebrities volunteer 3-4 days a week at a community center? While money and fame didn’t necessarily matter to you(to an extent), you couldn’t deny it would be a huge part of the relationship you might form with Hoseok.

(No! Don’t start that! Just be in the moment. Worry about all of that after this date), you thought. He’s already made a good first impression on you and there will still a lot of the date left. You shouldn’t judge him too early, especially when he’s done nothing that you would consider a red flag.

For now, you would get to know him better.

Conversation flowed seamlessly between the two of you. You talked like you were old friends, new information about each other storing itself in your memories.

You found Hoseok just as charming and happy as people described him. He shared your love of all styles of dance, specifically hip hop and street and you spun tales of some of the best years of black dance history; from the Cat Daddy to the Jerk and even the embarrassing year of the Red Nose. He listened with rapt attention, genuinely finding all of these dances incredibly interesting.

“It’s a scientific fact that you can Dougie to anything.” You informed before taking another bite of your side salad.

Hoseok chuckled teasingly with a light roll of his eyes. “I don’t believe that. I need proof.”

Pointing your fork at him, you dared, “Bet. When we have free time at the studio, I’ll prove it to you. The Dougie is never wrong and it’ll transcend time.”

“Yeah yeah.” He playfully dismissed. “Speaking of, how did you come to work at the community center?”

“One of my friends recommended I join. Her mother used to go there a lot for yoga classes. She said they’ve been looking for a new teacher and that I’d fit in with all my experience. And I wanted something to do on the days I’m not working.” Stabbing the last crispiest leaf of your salad, you brought it to your mouth.

“What do you do for work? I realized I never asked you.”

Maybe saving that piece for last wasn’t the best idea because you immediately choked on it. Hoseok made a noise of panic, grabbing your glass of water and giving it to you. Gulping down your water, you attempted to not look like you were close to dying which was harder than you thought since your diaphragm was seizing and attempting to take you the hell out of here.

“Are you okay?” He asked after you had cleared your throat and was now struggling to get that tickling feeling out.

Wiping your mouth with your napkin, you let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Uh, I guess it went down the wrong pipe.”

Those brown eyes were filled with worry but he took your word for it, relaxing slightly.

You cleared your throat again. “You asked about my job?” Your tone was confused, as if you were still trying to process the question and you definitely were.

He nodded though, not deterred in the slightest by your previous display. “Yeah. What do you do for work?”

(Think sis! If you hesitate too long, he’ll think something is wrong!)

Hoseok was truly a great person, so honest and joyous that you felt happy just being around him. Your attraction for him was truly deepening and your hope for a relationship was climbing.

But now that he’s grown curious about your job, you worried that you couldn’t be together.

“Um….I’m a…bartender!” (Yeah that sounded convincing, you mentally chastised.)

It must have sounded genuine because Hoseok took it really well.

“Wow really? That sounds so cool. Have you been doing it long?”

A gross feeling began swirling in the pit of your stomach, all the food you’ve eaten ready to come back up.

Every lie that fell off your tongue pulled that band tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.

However, you couldn’t tell him the truth. You couldn’t ruin this, not again.

Life following that first date continued normally but with the added sugar that was Hoseok. Outside of the studio, your free time was filled with cute dates; nighttime milkshakes because he couldn’t sleep, long walks along the river which included you almost falling in trying to catch your phone, and even a few movie nights at his place where you opened the world of Wayans Brothers movies like Dance Flick and Scary Movie.

Hoseok would often pick you up on his way to the studio, you always greeting him with some kind of wacky snack you found. Your recent discovery were special flavors of KitKats from Japan. His drives used to be so quiet but now he loved how you filled the silence with your music choices and endless stories about anything and everything.

Inside the studio, you two found time between classes to joke around or grab lunch. Sometimes you even tried to teach Hoseok how to pole dance, only for him to almost hurt himself trying to flip upside down without proper core strength. The way you babied him afterwards made the fall worth it.

And yes, you did prove to him that you can Dougie to everything! He took you out for crepes as a reward for proving him wrong.

“I can’t believe you just did that to classical music.”

“Believe it. And I like strawberry crepes.”

As your relationship flourished so did your nerves about lying to Hoseok about your job. The lie hasn’t come up many times since your first date but the few times he wanted to take you out on weekends, only for you to tell him you had to work made the guilt pile on higher. Seeing how deflated he got whenever you had to take a rain check felt like a punch to your gut. How long could you lie to him about this? Your grandmother always said what’s done in the dark will eventually come to light and you truly believed that. However, how could you tell him? What would happen if he found out days or when months down the line? His trust in you would surely be broken but you just didn’t have the heart to tell him.

You knew you were probably in the process of ruining a good thing for you but the fear of the unknown outweighed all of that. Your brain couldn’t even begin to overthink all of the possibilities and your late night mental breakdown parties seemed to be a lot more lively with the added nerves.

For now, you’d just try to enjoy the limited time you’d have with him and hopefully, the truth wouldn’t hurt too much.

When Hoseok’s friends suggested they go to a strip club as a night out, at first he rejected. Now that he was on the track of dating you, he felt like going to a strip club would be a bit like cheating. You guys weren’t official yet so it technically wouldn’t be, right? At least that’s the logic Yoongi used. Apparently, they had already reserved a section without telling him so now he couldn’t refuse. Should he tell you about it first? You told him you were working tonight and wouldn’t be able to talk much but he still sent you a text just in case.

Of course, you didn’t get it since your phone was locked in your locker and your attention was on making sure your lace laid down to withstand all of the sweating you would inevitably be doing.

“y/n! You’re up in 10!”

“Okay!” You called back, moving to put on your favorite platforms and give yourself one more look over in the mirror. “Alright, let’s do this.” You whispered to yourself before removing your elastic band from your hairline, laying down your edges to perfect before exiting the dressing room. A few other girls were all leaving the stage, holding bags with their earnings in them.

“Good luck, y/n. There’s some hot guys out there. One tried to give me his credit card.”

You and some of the others laughed. Honestly, people tried to hand you credit cards more than you’d think. One time, a lady gave you her house keys wrapped in her underwear and asked you to just “sneak in past the kids and husband”. Obviously, you returned all of her things to the friends she was with and wished them a safe travel home. You did not want to be the topic of conversation for her children’s therapy.

The lights dimmed and the DJ announced you next. Since you were the headliner and the most popular dancer of the club, you got solo stages whereas the other women normally had to go on stage 3-4 at a time. Solo stages meant more money and on a weekend like this, you’d probably be able to take a small vacation to relax.

Maybe you’d invite Hoseok too…..that fluttering in your tummy bursted tenfold just thinking about him.

“Welcome to the stage, y/s/n!”

The crowd cheered and the music started. Inhaling a deep breath, you began your ascent of the steps and to the main pole in the middle of the center stage.

Show time.

When Hoseok first laid eyes on you on that stage, he felt a combination of things—shock, desire, a little betrayed, and also a little spark of something else he couldn’t quite place. He just couldn’t believe that was actually you on stage. At first, he thought it was just the few drinks he’s had clouding his vision but once you stepped into the lights, there was no denying. That was definitely you up there.

His eyes, like many of the pairs of eyes here, were focused on your graceful figure as it circled the stage. Your body flowed like a vivid koi fish, velvety and poised. You were a picture of perfection—lovely and exquisite, you were.

Your long legs looked like they stretched on for miles, white platform heels with laces going up your legs were on your feet—your outfit comprised of a baby blue t-shirt styled crop top with a heart cut out to show the expanse of your cleavage. You also wore a matching pair of shorts that barely covered your plump ass along with 2 chains around your waist.

Even through his conflicting emotions, he couldn’t deny that you were the most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in his life.

There was still things he didn’t know about you and that he wanted to learn but that was all part of the journey. He learned new things about you everyday and he wanted to know so much more.

This, however, wasn’t what he was expecting.

When your feet touched the stage, light grey hair whipping around making you look kissed by the moon, your cat like eyes met his—sharp and beguiling, calling him like siren….

He saw as your eyes widened, almost stumbling but luckily you caught yourself on the pole. However, you didn’t have time to panic. You couldn’t waste your turn so you pushed down that building anxiety and just started your routine.

You avoided eye contact with Hoseok the entire time, not even interacting with him when you crossed his group. You’ve worn tiny little dancing sets around him before but right now, you felt exposed and embarrassed. You two haven’t even kissed yet. Now you were practically flashing him and his friends were getting an eyeful too. You’d definitely wallow in your misery later.

After your set was over, you winked and blew a kiss to the crowd, absorbing the cheers. The lights dimmed and you crouched down to begin gathering your money. When you moved to the side of the stage where Hoseok’s group was, you dared to look up.

A gasp got caught in your throat when you saw Hoseok looking directly at you. One thing about Hoseok was that he wore his heart on his sleeve, you could see every emotion painted across his face.

And the main one you saw was hurt. His eyebrows were furrowed, pretty brown irises searching yours. That anxiety you had repressed earlier was starting to bubble back up, guilt making you feel sick.

You dropped your head, quickly gathering the rest of the money, you shoved it all in the bag, probably missing some but you didn’t care. You just had to get out of here.

Shame burned at your chest as you rushed back into the dressing rooms, ignoring the other’s praises and just hightailing it to the bathroom. It was empty, thank goodness, so no one could see you cry.

You had messed up. You lied to him, the first real connection you’ve had seen you moved here. Why had you lied to him? Now he knew and you were positive he’d never want to speak to you again.

Why would he? You were a stripper—you dressed in barely there clothing and danced for money. You didn’t necessarily feel ashamed of your job but it was different when it was just strangers knowing you vs people from your personal life. There was a lot of negative stigmas around your profession. Weird considering people filled clubs by the boat load and had no issue handing their money to the dancers. Then again, societal standards weren’t known for being very consistent.

But still, you didn’t want Hoseok to judge you because of what you did. He probably wouldn’t but your insecurities told you otherwise.

Wiping your tears, you went back to the dressing rooms, going to your locker. You unlocked it and began gathering your things, deciding to call it a night. You’d just tell your boss you started your period or something, he didn’t even know what an ovary was so you doubted he’d question you.

After changing out of your clothes, you bid the others goodnight, ignoring their confused looks and exiting through the back entrance. Your car was parked kind of far. You did that on purpose to prevent creeps from figuring out where you worked, you also often parked in busy garages just in case someone decided to follow you. It’s happened a couple of times and thankfully nothing has ever gotten physical.

You pulled your jacket around you tighter, the wind blowing a bit hard today and making your nose feel runny. You just wanted to go home and drown yourself in all of the snacks your dad sent you from America.

“y/n!”

You froze at the call of your name, recognizing that voice immediately. You couldn’t mistake that for anyone else.

A part of you wanted to run but you knew that wouldn’t be right. You were an adult and you needed to face your issues like one.

You slowly turned around, finding Hoseok jogging towards you. He looked so handsome. Too bad you’d lose him soon.

He stopped in front of you, breathing a little heavily from his small burst of exercise. Your eyes couldn’t lift to meet his, your waterline tingling as tears threatened to rise. Now that he was standing before you, nerves and shame engulfed your entire body. What would he say to you? Would he call you disgusting and demand you tell him why you lied? Would you tell you to lose his number and to never call him again? You don’t think you’d be able to handle that but you knew it’s what you deserved for lying.

“H-Hoseok….I…” You started but your throat tightened up as the reality of facing him began to settle. What could you even say? Nothing would justify you lying to him so it was best for you to just tell the truth and leave before you embarrassed yourself further.

“Why did you lie to me?”

There it was. Out of the billions of things he could have said to you, that was the one question you weren’t prepared for. Hell, you weren’t really prepared for anything at this point.

Swallowing thickly, you began, “Hoseok, I’m so….I’m so sorry I lied to you. It’s just…..I was scared of telling you what I really did because….I thought you’d think I was some kind of bad person.” That was putting it lightly. You’ve been called much worse than that.

He remained silent and you couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing but you figured you’d continue while you still had the “confidence”.

“To be honest, I’ve told the few people I’ve met before and they’ve always treated me like some sort of toy or they’ve acted disgusted by me.” Your body shivered at some of the disgusting things that have come out of people’s mouths when they found out you were stripper. You know your job was practically you sexualizing yourself but that didn’t mean you wanted it in a relationship. You were more than your job but a lot of people couldn’t see past that. “And I was scared that you’d do the same.”

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your eyes to lock with Hoseok’s. He hadn’t really made a move since you began talking, his own eyes still looking conflicted.

“And I like you so so much, Hoseok. You’re such an amazing person. Call it selfish but I just didn’t want to lose you. You’re the first person I’ve ever truly had feelings for and I wasn’t ready to let that go. And I’m so genuinely sorry that I lied to you.” You wiped your tears, averting your eyes once again because looking at him was starting to become too much. “I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore.”

A pause. A tension. A silence so thick that you could hear the blood rushing through your veins and your heart booming in your chest.

Hoseok truly didn’t know what to say to you. There were so many things he had questions about and so many things he wanted to say but his mind was still racing from all of the information he’s absorbed within this one night.

“y/n…..”

Clenching your eyes shut, you held your breath. Here it comes.

“Who says I don’t want to see you anymore?”

A gasp flew from your lips, your head snapping up to look at him so fast that your neck cramped a little.

You were sure your confusion showed clearly on your face, your eyes searching his face for any sign of dishonesty. Then again, you wouldn’t be surprised if he gave you a taste of your own medicine. You’d probably deserve it.

Yet that serene smile he sent you would make you believe anything he said.

“W-what?”

Reaching his hand up to rub at the back of his neck, he sighed. “Yeah sure I’m upset that you lied and yeah your job is definitely surprising but….” His eyes seemed to sparkle as they looked at you, full of adoration and sincerity. “I like you for you, y/n. You’re also the first person I’ve ever had real feelings for and I wouldn’t want to lose you either.”

He reached out to grab your hand, lacing your fingers together and bringing them up to place a kiss on the back of yours.

“You’re the perfect person for me. Your job is a little jarring but I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want to be with you. As long as you’ll have me.”

Doubt. That’s what you always felt as you walked in and out of relationships. You doubted yourself. You doubted others. You doubted if you even deserved a tender love, if you deserved someone to call your own.

But hearing Hoseok’s sincere words, feeling his soft hands, and gazing into his eyes, the only emotion could you feel was overwhelming relief.

You were so relieved.

You couldn’t stop the tears, leaning your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder to which he wrapped his arms around you and tightly hugged you.

“I’m so sorry, Hoseok.” You sniffed.

“I know. I accept your apology.”

He smiled as your body shook with tears. Truth be told, he had a feeling something was off. The way you’d slightly panic whenever he’d invite you somewhere on the weekend or how you’d quickly redirect the conversation whenever he’d ask you to show him your bartending skills. Something told him you were lying but he didn’t want to pressure you too hard. You were still in the newer stages of your relationship and he was trying to be careful about how he approached you. Whatever it is you were keeping from him, he assumed it was personal and that was okay.

While he wasn’t expecting this big of a discovery, he was secretly happy it wasn’t something completely out of pocket like you being a drug dealer or something. A stripper wasn’t that bad especially considering what you taught at the studio.

He did like you. A lot. You were joyous and funny and he loved spending time with you. Those feelings weren’t gonna go away just because of what you did for work.

After all of your tears had dried up and your sinuses had been blocked from the crying, you pulled away from Hoseok.

He smiled that bright smile and teased, “all done?”

Pouting, you nodded.

“Great. Now why don’t we get from the middle of the street because people have been staring at us weirdly.” He informed with a laugh which made your eyes widen, looking to the side to find a small group of people looking at you both.

Burying your head back in his neck, you groaned. Wow, you didn’t know if this night was getting better or worse.

Hoseok squeezed your hand again, your teary eyelashes fluttering at him and he gave you that wonderful smile.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Okay.” You dreamily sighed.

Hand in hand, you two walked away. Both from the pain and into the future where your lives would forever be intertwined.

#bts #bts x black reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts imagines #hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jung hoseok

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goodnightoilcountry · 12 hours

Text

don't overthink when you could be loving me - sebastian aho

summary: Your inadvertent friendship with some of the Canes players was not something you advertized in your day-to-day life. But an evening of Friday night drinks changes that when you find yourself trapped in the same bar with your co-workers and one love-struck Sebastian Aho who’s determined to make it known that you’re spoken for… well, tentatively that is.

word count: 6.2k

author's note: one month in the making and i'm not even convinced that this is of any quality. but if i don't put it out now, i never will. i'm going to do another proofread but don't worry, if there are going to be any edits, it'll just be fixing up typos / grammar.

tag list: @kashee-h

You won’t lie. You weren’t always the biggest believer in keeping your personal life and work life separate.

Despite the numerous warnings about how “your colleagues are not your friends”, you couldn’t help but merge the two words into a synonymous figure. By this point in your life, you could probably ballpark that half of your closest friends were acquired from the various roles you were appointed. You’ve always felt like you’ve lucked out in that department.

The moment when your luck seemed to wear out was at your very first grad role.

With a newly minted finance degree in one hand and just about $50,000 in the other, the bar wasn’t set particularly high in terms of quality for a grad role. So when you received the congratulatory phone call from human resources, you didn’t care about the questionably low pay or how weirdly vague your interviewers were about overtime practices, you were just happy to finally have something substantial splashed across your resume.

Your first month wasn’t anything to write home about. As expected, everyone was cordial, you were given grunt work, and you would routinely eat tune rice and veg for lunch - something that was weirdly unique to the corporate world.

Where the comfort flipped was the night that the firm hosted its annual Thank You Dinner. What was announced as a company event hosted by the executives to say thank you to its employees for their efforts was actually disguised as a night of debauchery at the expense of the firm’s bottom line - but you didn’t know that yet.

So when a passing comment about the Canes turns into a full-blown conversation piece at your table, your wine-induced lips couldn’t help but let something slip.

It’s not like you ran around advertising the fact that you were family friends with Seth Jarvis growing up. But hockey culture was thriving in Raleigh and moments where a mention of the Canes wasn’t thrown into the mix rarely occurred.

More often than not, you were happy to pass on any unused tickets that Seth had reserved in your name every year. Of course, generally, nobody questions where the tickets came from the first time around - free tickets are free tickets. But by the fourth round? Who would still believe that you just accidentally purchased lower-bowl seats not knowing you already had plans?

You would eventually let up that maybe you were better acquainted with the Canes than on just a last-name and number basis. And the reactions that followed usually panned out the same way. You’d receive looks that crossed between amazement and disbelief, followed by thirty minutes of inquisitioning, and then the excitement of the news would eventually fade before moving on to something salacious that had happened earlier that week.

But the news of your affiliation that night was volatile.

Suddenly, your tickets weren’t viewed as a generous offering but rather as a right. People in different departments whom you had never met started taking you out for lunches with a casual mention of how they hadn’t ever been to a live game; your boss expected you to give them up for the sake of appeasing potential clients; girls would invite you out with the hopes of them showing up to wherever you were.

You handed in your resignation six months later.

So when you signed your letter of offer for your new role, you made a silent promise to yourself to keep that portion of your life separate. So, you distanced yourself.

Seth had noticed. He had known that you would occasionally give up your tickets when you knew you weren’t able to make a game. But as more and more weeks had passed, he had maybe seen your seats filled twice: once by a few of your closest girlfriends and the other was when your parents had come to town for a long weekend.

Outings with him and the team became infrequent as you declined to attend any sort of public event that would bear the risk of you being caught out by your new colleagues. And when you were eventually questioned why, you simply excused that your new job had you locked down.

The second person to notice your increasing absence was Sebastian.

Since Seth’s rookie days, you had been, on more than several occasions, his plus one to team events. And over the years, you had gotten to know some of the younger members who were able to keep up with Seth’s redbull-fueled energy. That included Sebastian.

The first time you had actually properly spoken to him was at a Canes charity gala. Seth and KK had been swept into a conversation by a few board members, leaving you to quietly people-watch from your assigned seat.

****

“Refill?”

You turned to find Sebastian with an arm extended out; a glass of champagne delicately sat between his fingers. You returned a grateful smile as he sat down in Seth’s seat.

“You manage to avoid the noise fest?” you lightly poked, looking over at Seth where Andrei and Jack were now caught.

He let out a laugh and shook his head while looking down, “I’ve definitely done my fair share of the sucking up.”

“You didn’t feel like joining your boyfriend?”

You choked on your drink as soon as the assumption left his mouth. You couldn’t help but begin laughing as you coughed up a response, “Oh my god, no. Seth and I grew up together back home. Our parents were close friends.”

His cheeks flushed red at the revelation.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed because you’ve come to a few of these things with him before and you’re at our games a lot,” he tried to reason as he rubbed the back of his neck to ease the embarrassment.

You shook your head with the same amused donned across your face, “he’s really never mentioned that we grew together as kids?”

“I’m sure he’s mentioned it but it’s hard to catch everything he says. He talks… a lot.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the blunt statement.

You had found it easy to talk to Sebastian. The conversation flowed seamlessly, from the standard questioning of each other’s jobs to the shared ache of missing home. Before you knew it, Seth had returned with a sheepish look on his face; apologetic for his disappearance but not missing the flash of disappointment across his teammate’s face when you said goodnight.

After that, the trajectory of your relationship with Sebastian had shifted into something more. Sure, you both became closer as friends, growing comfortable in the presence of one another. But as time went on you couldn’t help but feel like the line between you two would occasionally go hazy; blurring completely on a night out following a hard-fought win.

****

Every summer that comes around reminds you of how incomprehensible the energy can be in Raleigh.

The city came alive as holidayers passed through, the nights drew out longer, and the cool drinks were more than welcome from people who were looking to escape the heat. Which is how you found yourself sitting at a beer hall three blocks from your office in downtown Raleigh.

Unsurprisingly, the bar was packed on a Friday evening and you could only expect it to ramp up even more when your eyes fell on the sight of a band setting up stage for the night.

“Here, grab these first and I’ll bring over the rest.”

Maddy slides over 3 glasses to you and pulls out her card to start a tab for the table. You met Maddy on your first day when you were doing the round with HR. They had introduced her as your “office buddy”, to which Maddy later rolled her eyes at and reassured you that she wouldn’t be as micro-managing as they had made it out to be.

She took you to lunch and gave you her version of the onboarding special which basically involved giving you the run down of who you didn’t want to piss off if you ever wanted to be promoted.

It wasn’t long before you both became each other’s go-to person at work when things went to shit and sometimes the occasional debrief session at Thursday wines where she updated you about how her dating life was tracking.

You pull together the glasses and place them into a firm grasp between your hands before turning around to make a beeline for the table with Maddy trailing behind you. There are a few familiar faces from your team and some that you don’t think you’ve ever met before but you know that Maddy is a big fan of getting into the good graces of other departments.

Your phone screen lights up before you can even take a sip from the glass causing you to divert your attention.

Last weekend before we’re due back for pre-season training. Come out with us tonight? - Jarvy

You feel a pang of guilt with the sudden reminder that Seth just unintentionally gave you.

Your MIA-ness had begun a month before the playoffs started. Granted you still followed every game from the comfort of your home, but your continued in-person absence did not go unnoticed. Even more so after the 4-0 Conference Finals loss to the Panthers, where Sebastian wanted nothing more than to feel the comfort of your presence to ease the heartbreak.

Instead, he had to settle for an “I’m sorry.” text.

And in your defence, you had tried to see him when they returned home but the timing was never quite right as Sebastian took off for Finland a few weeks later as a last-minute guest for his cousin’s wedding.

You were able to catch Seth a handful of times before he also took flight: Winnipeg for home, Chicago for Lollapalooza, and Cabo with KK and Svech from the look of his Instagram stories.

He waved away your apologies and said he understood that you were flat out with work and that he hoped you weren’t working yourself too hard. All you could do was return a meek smile and be thankful that he didn’t press about it further.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trying to rack your brain for an excuse that wouldn’t leave any room for further persuasion.

Sorry :( feeling too run down from the week. Next time though!

You take one more look at your phone as Seth sends you the ‘Boo, You Whore!’ gif from Mean Girls, causing you to crack a small smile.

“Better offer somewhere else?”

Your head snaps up and meets the eyes of one of the unfamiliar faces sitting across you.

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Charlie, I just joined the legal counsel,” he offers with a smile. And it’s a pretty damn good smile too.

You’re quickly swept up into a conversation with Charlie. You learn that he recently relocated from Boston, he has a labrador named Ollie, and that he’s heard of a fantastic restaurant down the road that he’s been “dying” to check out with someone. That last part is followed with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He’s not bad-looking, you’ll give him that much. Maybe a year ago he would have been your type. But lately, you’ve seemed to turn away from the sharp jawlines and blue eyes, and instead look for softer and warmer features with maybe a small scar carved into the bottom of their lip...

Wait, what?

You shake the thought out of your head and instead focus back on Charlie’s current story: some embarrassing run-in with your boss, on his first day.

You’re shaking from laughter at this point, “No way! Did she say anything to you later on?”

Charlie grins as he places his head in his hands, “Yeah, it was such a shame job. When I got my first official meeting with her, it was-”

You watch him trail off as his eyes dart to look at you. No, not at you. Behind you?

“Well, well, well. Feeling better, eh?”

You recognize that shit-eating tone anywhere.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. You turn around and find Seth smirking down at you like he’s found a deer in the headlights.

“Must have been a pretty quick recovery considering you were sick only two hours ago,” he derides, sliding into the empty spot next to you. You’ve only just realized that your whole table is now empty besides you and Charlie. A quick whip around tells you that they’ve all moved to the nearby pool tables.

“Seth,” you say calmly, “what are you doing here?”

“I told you. Last weekend before practice starts.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even like it here. I’ve literally heard you call it the worst bar in the world,” you argue back.

Seth’s about to open his mouth for some quick retaliation but Charlie beats him to it.

“You’re Seth Jarvis,” he says. The look he gives is nothing short of bewilderment as he puts together that Seth Jarvis knows you.

“Hey man, how you doing? Always nice to meet a fan,” Seth nods with an outstretched hand to Charlie.

Charlie slowly shakes his hand, still reeling in from the newfound piece of information he’s just learned. “Oh, well I’m from Boston so not exactly a fan of you.”

Seriously? Who even says something like that?

You refuse to meet Seth’s side eye in an attempt to dodge the embarrassment you feel from Charlie’s unwarranted dig. He’s unsure how to respond to the hostility but the moment of awkwardness is cleared by a second voice appearing.

“Jarvy, Burnsie found a table outside - let’s go...”

Your head snaps towards the voice and you find Sebastian looking right back. He’s taken aback and stumbles on his words for a second but recomposes himself just as quickly.

“Hey, where have you b-,” he begins to step forward but falters as his eyes properly assess the scene before him. You and Charlie. Together. Alone.

“Oh. Are you in the middle of something?” he hesitates, flickering between you and Charlie; unsure of what to make of the situation.

Your eyes widen slightly before clearing your throat, “Oh, um no. This is Charlie. He recently moved to our office from Boston.”

God, you feel so small right now. Here you were, seeing Sebastian for the first time in months and you can’t even muster up the courage to properly say hello.

“Well, we’re gonna go back to our table. Find us at some point, yeah?”

Seth gives Charlie a final cautious look before he pats Sebastian on the back, guiding them both to a table on the veranda.

The rest of your group comes flooding back to the table having witnessed the sight unfold from afar. If Charlie keeps his mouth shut, surely you can play it off as a lucky fan interaction?

“Holy shit! Do you know who they were? Tell me you do because I will seriously freak if you tell me you don’t know,” Maddy furiously whispers with wide eyes.

“I don’t know, Maddy. Seemed like she’s more than well-acquainted by the look on Aho’s face,” Charlie said dryly, bringing a bottle to his lips with a raised eyebrow.

You’re a bit taken aback by his insinuation.

“Um, Seth and I grew up together back home,” you slowly let out, “it was just a coincidence that we both ended up in Raleigh.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’re friends with Seth Jarvis? Are you kidding me? You’ve only heard me talk about the Canes like a thousand times,” she gapes at you with an incredulous look.

Here we go.

The rest of your group wasn’t privy to your admission, being too caught up with the sight of the team being mere yards away from them.

“Look, I don’t know. I just don’t like using his name like that. It makes me feel gross.” you sigh, rubbing your arms.

“I’d just rather we drop it. Please?”

You shoot her a look to which Maddy softens; understanding that the topic has hit a bit of a sore spot for you.

“Okay yeah, of course. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

The mass intrigue of the boys’ presence soon dies off as people slowly realize that they’re about as interesting to watch drinking as the next table is. Conversations resume back to normal and you try your best to feign interest but the knowledge that he’s the closest that you guys have been in months won’t leave you alone.

So twenty more minutes pass by and you’re ready to throw in the towel. You’ve decided that you’ll deal with the situation another day - preferably when you can string together a proper sentence. After a quick goodbye and the promise of a home-safe text to Maddy, you gather your things and start making headway for the exit.

The weakness in you can’t help but take one final look at Sebastian before you step out for the night but he’s beaten you to it. His eyes are already fixed on you with the same look you had become all too familiar with.

****

Saturday night. Seth’s Birthday. Shut-out win over Vegas. No game scheduled until Wednesday.

Individually, they’re considered lawfully good events. Combined? It’s as if someone was testing to see if Carolina even knew the definition of chaos. And when have they ever backed down from a challenge?

You let out a huff of air as you fall back into the booth. You had finally managed to escape Seth and Jesperi from the dance floor. If there was ever a case to be made about the negative long-term effects of Redbull, those two were it.

“Oh my god, how were you even out there for that long?”

Martin’s girlfriend, Nykki, opens up her arm and lets you lean in. Her leather jacket is a cool contrast to your warm and flushed body.

“Don’t let them take me again,” you whine as the ache in your feet comes flooding in. She giggles and affectionately pats your head.

Your eyes skim over the crowd, taking count of where everyone was. Brady, Kuzy and Martin by the bar. Andrei, Jack and Pyotr occupied with a group of girls. Seth and Jesperi still unabashedly dancing but now sporting a pair of shades that you had a sneaky suspicion they found on the floor. As if your eyes knew before your brain, they’re scanning the room again to find what’s missing.

“He stepped away to the bathroom.”

Your eyes tear away from the crowd and you sit yourself up, pulling the closest drink to your lips to avoid the direction Nykki is heading.

“He was watching you all night, you know? Didn’t listen to a damn thing I said,” she nudges with a knowing smirk. You didn’t think it was possible for your face to heat up anymore. Your continued silence doesn’t deter Nykki though as she decides that she will get you to admit something that you’re not even sure you’re ready to admit to yourself.

“Why are you both dancing around this? It’s obvious that he likes you. And maybe you won’t ever admit it to me but I can tell that you like him,” Nykki softens, acutely aware that Sebastian could return to the booth at any moment.

“Do you…” you hesitate, swirling the remnants of your drink in the glass. “Do you ever feel like you’re too exposed sometimes?”

She furrows her brows, “What do you mean?”

“There’s this thing that happens, and maybe it’s not often but it happens, where people expect things just because of who you know.

And if it’s true for just simply being friends with Seth, will it be worse if you’re involved with them?”

“A hockey player definitely wasn’t my first choice,” she says after a moment. “And maybe I wish I knew what it would have meant to be with him.”

“But,” she quickly recovers, watching your expression fall, “I wouldn’t change anything. It’s not about the world that he can offer me like everyone thinks it is. It’s how he always shows up for me, even when he’s 3000 miles away. It’s those private moments that are enough to make me forget the world is watching us.”

You catch the glowing adoration that’s etched into her face when she gazes across the room, watching her boyfriend laughing with Brady. You’re so wrapped up in ruminating over Nykki’s words that you almost don’t feel the way the cushion sinks next to you.

“Are you done with that?”

Sebastian’s voice grounds you back to reality. “Oh, I am but I’ll get another soon.”

Before you can stop him, he slides back out of the booth again and flags down a bartender. And Nykki doesn’t take a beat to do the same, “I think I’ll join the others,” sending you a small wink.

Sebastian slides back in setting down three glasses, two for you and one for him. “I thought you’d want some water too. Jarvy didn’t look like he was going to let you leave at any point,” he offers with a smile.

You let out a laugh and shake your head, “The trick is to run the second he turns his back. Trust me, works every time.”

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Me? What about you? 3 assists and a goal? Surely that’s what we’re really celebrating tonight,” you whistle as you twirl the straw between your fingers.

You don’t miss the way he almost immediately shies up, turning away with the crack of a smile threatening to take over.

“I couldn’t have done it without the guys, they make all of it happen,” he notions.

You roll your eyes immediately, “I forget how well media-trained you guys are sometimes.”

“You should be able to enjoy your successes. It’s not about the other guys not being talented, it’s about being able to reflect on how far you’ve come. All of this is the culmination of your dedication, Sebastian. It’s important to remember that.”

The silence he returns suddenly fills you with regret. Did you say too much? Was it even your place to say anything at all? You need to backpeddle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -” you sigh, pushing away your drink.

“No,” he quickly cuts, “I guess I’ve just never thought about it like that. But it does feel good to hear it.”

“I like having you at our games” he smiles. “You know you’re part of my warm-up routine?”

“I am?”

“Yeah, I play this little game where I try to spell people’s names as fast as I can with the puck. I tried yours once and we won, so I did it the next night and we won again. Now I do it every game to put a little luck into the ice.”

Fuck. His confession renders you speechless. If there were any more doubts about your feelings for Sebastian, they were well and truly effaced now. And suddenly you gain a partial understanding of what Nykki meant. For every game, whether you’re there or not, Sebastian carves a part of you into it.

You swallow, giving yourself a moment to recollect. “I didn’t think that I was such a game changer,” you softly let out.

You’re not exactly sure when or how it happened but you notice the proximity between you two has significantly lessened. And the arm he has strewn behind you on the top cap suddenly feels misplaced - like they would feel more at home around you.

And for a brief moment - between the silence you’re both too afraid to break - his eyes break away from yours and flick towards your lips.

He inches closer, “You are… everything.”

Your breath hitches. Before you can even stop yourself, your hand rests against his neck, gently pulling him in and Sebastian is more than willing to follow. This is it.

“Guys! KK said his friend can get us into this new club!”

Your eyes close shut and your hand drops down Sebastian. An agitated sigh leaves him as he reluctantly pulls back. You both look at each other, still caught in the moment that’s now fleed at the sound of Seth’s voice.

Seth shakes Sebastian, forcing him to break away from your gaze.

“Did you hear me? KK’s calling us an Uber,” Seth bounces. Not a beat later, Nykki appears and attempts to forcefully pull him away. But it’s Seth. And of course, rightfully so, he wants two of his best friends to come with.

You quickly down the rest of your drink and step out of the booth, not wanting to bask in the awkwardness any longer. As you step outside, the chill of the wind grounds you back into reality, and you instinctively wrap your hands around your arms. In the peripheral of your vision, you see Nykki rush towards you.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to grab onto him but he just moved so quickly.”

You return a small smile, “It’s fine. Really.”

You link arms with her and she guides you to the Uber that Martin is standing by with the door open. As Nykki climbs in, you turn your head and find Sebastian watching.

He almost looks hopeful that you’ll follow him. That you’ll both leave the mess of the group behind and find solitude someplace else.

But you don’t.

Instead, you give a small shake of your head and follow Nykki, with Martin firmly closing the door behind you.

****

In the years you’ve watched Seth play in Raleigh, you’ve never once seen a game from the suite before.

But the Monday morning after your run-in with the group, you find yourself opening a calendar invite from your boss to the first home game of the season with a few key clients. So now, you’re perched by the glass, watching the spotlights dancing around the ice and the crowds of people getting settled in for the night.

“You know we’re meant to be chatting up the clients, right?”

Of course, Charlie managed to be invited too.

“I still haven’t been able to swing by that new restaurant I was telling you about. Could be fun to check it out afterwards,” he says, looking out towards the rink.

“Thanks, Charlie but I think I’m just going to head home the game’s done,” you respond dryly.

He cocks his head with a raised brow, “You know they organized a meet and greet after the game right? The whole reason why we’re here is because the CEO’s son is a huge fan.”

You don’t love the way your body freezes up at the newly shared information. You appreciated that your friendship with the team hadn’t made it past Maddy and Charlie’s lips, but you weren’t confident that would stay the same after tonight. And that’s the only thing that runs through your mind through all three periods. You can barely converse with the clients as you’re half-distracted by the get-away plan that you’re attempting to draw out in your mind, and it leaves your boss shooting you looks of “get your shit together”.

The horn sounds off as soon as the clock hits zero. It’s evident that you’re not getting out of this and the only prayer you have left is that the players who join you are the younger rookies who have little to no idea who you are. But you know the chances of that are slim to none.

You try to push away the anxiousness by listening to a conversation between your boss, Charlie, and the client.

“All I’m saying is that the reason Boston didn’t make it past the first round was because of how shit some of the calls were against them,” Charlie rambles, oblivious to the unimpressed faces.

The door of the suite swings open and you find Jordan, Brady, and Sebastian filing in. They’ve all clearly come straight from the showers, still dripping droplets of water from their hair onto the floor. They make their way around the room and shake everyone’s hands, thanking them for their support. Brady is the first to spot you as he gives you a surprised look followed by a welcoming smile. But he reads the panic in your eyes and - being classically perceptive - nods in understanding.

It doesn’t take another second to pass for Sebastian to register your appearance and amongst the earlier crowding, you’re only now able to fully take in the way he’s dressed. His compression shirt sculpts against him, with the soft lines of his muscles pressing against the fabric. Shorts barely hanging loose against his thighs. A backwards cap sported to tie it all off. It’s enough to make you want to break your silent promise.

Your eyes can’t help but fixate on him the entire time they circulate with everyone in the room. And while Sebastian tries his damn hardest to remain polite and focus on the conversation at hand, he can’t help but flicker his eyes towards you, making sure you won’t disappear on him again.

“Thank you so much for your time. We won’t keep you guys any longer, but best of luck with the season ahead. Bring one home for us, hey?” your boss beams. Everyone else has headed home, leaving just you and Charlie waiting for your boss to let you go.

“Goodnight guys. I’ll see you Monday.”

And with that, it’s just the five of you left in the suite with a few people on the Hurricanes team off to the side.

“Well, we better get going if we want to make it to that restaurant,” Charlie says turning towards you.

Sebastian tenses at this and you see the way Jordan and Brady shoot each other a look.

“I said I’m going home, Charlie.” You’re shutting this down.

“I’ll give you a lift then,” he presses.

Before you can open your mouth to counteract, Sebastian interjects, “You’re not far off from my place, I’ll take you.”

“Yes, please!”

You’d be embarrassed with how quick you are to jump at his offer if it weren’t for the fact that you so desperately wanted to avoid being confined in a car with Charlie.

“Thanks bro, but we’ve got it from here.”

“Actually, I don’t think you do, bro.”

Charlie looks between you two. Growing annoyed at the situation, he grabs his coat and retreats out of the suit. “Whatever. See you Monday.”

A sigh leaves your lips and you don’t realize how taut your body is until it eases under the feeling of Sebastian's hand on your shoulder.

“You guys all good if we take off?” Brady asks, expectedly. Sebastian nods and you all bid goodnight.

“I just have to grab my things but if you’re tired I can just come back for them tomorrow,” he offers, as Brady and Jordan make their way out.

You shake your head, “I can hold on, you’re doing me the favour.”

It doesn’t take long to get back to the locker room, and you can’t help but think about how good he looks when he emerges with his hockey bag hung over one shoulder and a garment bag thrown over the other.

As you lean against the passenger door, waiting for him to throw his things into the boot, you can’t help but start to grow nervous at the realisation that Sebastian may want to talk about that night. But your nervousness is cut short by Sebastian moving in front of you with a small disc in his hand.

A puck.

He looks down at it, fiddling with it between his hands, “It’s from the warm-up. I thought you might like it.”

It’s the puck.

Your mouth falls open slightly, as you gingerly take it, as if you’re afraid it’ll break if you handle it too hard.

“I can’t believe you still do that,” you breathe, turning it over, feeling the ridges where the ice has chipped the edges.

“Of course I do. It changes the game.”

Your eyes dart up at his choice of words - he remembers.

“Why did you stop seeing us?” he puts forward.

You sigh and lean back against the car, turning your head away.

“Was it because of that night at Jarvy’s birthday? Did you not want to…” he trails off. Even he’s not sure what that night was meant to be.

“This world that you’re in Sebastian, I just don’t know if it’s for me.”

“I know that we’re away a lot but I-”

“It’s not that,” you quickly cut off. He returns a confused look and you know, as his eyes search you for an answer, that you owe him this explanation.

“Before you came back to the table, I was talking to Nykki about how difficult it can get to be involved with a hockey player.”

“But you’re already involved with us? You were friends with Seth already” he presses.

“And look where it got me last time. I was forced to leave a job after six months because all anyone cared about was being closer to the Canes than me,” you lamented.

“I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling like I’m second to the person I’m with; I want to feel equal to them. I want to know who is genuinely trying to be my friend. I want to exist outside of my relationship. I don’t want to have to hide in public because I’m scared to run into people from work.”

You close your eyes, feeling exhausted by the flood of words leaving your mouth, and you half-expect Sebastian to get into his car and drive off.

“I didn’t know.”

You nod in understanding. How could you expect him to know?

“I would never put you in a position where you wouldn’t feel safe,” he says softly.

“But if that’s what you really want, we can move on from everything. But I need you to know how I feel first.” His hand wraps around the side of your jaw and pulls your gaze towards him.

“I wanted to know you the moment Seth pointed you out our game for the first time. And then we spoke at the charity gala and I only wanted to know you even more. And then you were around us more, and I got to know you beyond just being Seth’s friend. And what I know I know is that you’re smarter than you let on but you’re still kind. You’ve remained so grounded that you see me as more than just this job. You make me think more deeply than I ever have with anyone else and I don’t want to go back to a life before I had that.”

You don’t know whether to cry or charge forward. Because after the endless rounds of almosts and what-ifs, you’ve finally caught each other. And the confessions that pour from his mouth left you knowing one thing for certain: you had both waited long enough.

And for the second time, you bring his neck down and finally close the gap between the two of you. Sebastian presses you against the car with his hand wrapping up to rest on the back of your neck, his lips deepening against yours. You never doubted it but his arms feel secure around you, afraid to let go and let the moment be over.

But you pull away just long enough to let out a murmur, “Take me home, Sebastian”

****

Six gruelling months pass by and you find yourself at a potential playoff-clinching game with your colleagues.

Granted your relationship with Sebastian was still very much under wraps, but you had learned to navigate your feelings of discomfort towards the publicity of his job. Sebastian had accommodated your cautiousness. Careful to never spend too long in your section during a pre-game warm up. Made sure to drive around the quiet side of the arena to pick you up afterwards. He had never pushed you to do more than you needed to.

But even though he’d never tell you, you know he’s quietly envious of the way the guys can openly skate with their partner at family skates. Or how they can sit and openly touch at company events. He had afforded you comfort at the expense of his wants. You wanted him to have more than this. And more importantly, you wanted to show him that you wanted more.

So when the buzzer sounds off and the Canes skate away with another return to the Stanely Cup Playoffs, you can’t help but let go of the discontentment you have about being found out. So before you even know it, you find yourself moving towards the ice where Sebastian is wrapping up his post-game interview, ignoring the calls of Maddy asking where you’re going.

And when you reach the board that separates you and your boyfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to skate over, collecting a puck from the equipment manager on the way.

“Always nice to meet a fan,” he winks, offering his pre-game puck.

You grin, pulling him forward by his jersey, “I appreciate it but I’ve gotta tell you that I’ve got a boyfriend.”

His eyes melt at the sound of your public announcement and he catches your lips against his, “I love you so damn much.”

#jo writes #nhl fic #nhl imagine #sebastian aho fic #sebastian aho imagine #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #sebastian aho x reader #nhl writing #sebastian aho fanfiction #sebastian aho fics #sebastian aho imagines #nhl fics #nhl imagines

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flimflamfranky · 9 months

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i’ve watched the first opla episode and i must say: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#IT WAS SO GOOOOOOOD #spoilers in tags #the pilot’s log #opla #the amount of adrenaline i was feeling was insane which is how i know a show is good #EVERYONE WAS SO NEW #baby zoro and baby nami being all mean and growly <3 #god. it was so different and i love that #adding in baroque works in that early #the og trio teaming up first ep #GARP!!#and the vibes were so different but so very good #like it’s one piece but new and different and exciting #just like i thought #and that mean there’s so much to look forward cuz it’s like! how are they gonna do that?#who are they gonna introduce when? what’ll get combined and twisted into something new and fresh??#i’ve already heard that syrup is very different and i’m very excited for it #tho alas i am watching with my family #which is fun but it means i can’t binge the whole thing at once #i won’t get to watch another ep until saturday probably :(#but good news: my mom did like it!#anyway i have art to post

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fist-amidst-the-hands · 1 year

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kinda want izzy to absolutely decimate stede at chess and I can't explain why

#ofmd #stizzy #izzy hands #stede bonnet #like... maybe stede is teaching ed because he wants to have someone to play against and ed is trying his best to learn #and brilliant tactician that he is ed of course can understand the game and the rules very well that's not even remotely the issue #it's just that... well the game is about strategy and planning and anticipating your opponent's moves and ultimately overpowering them #and that's quite like pirating now isn't it except these are tiny wooden pieces on the board and ed is just used to this kind of strategic #planning on a much larger and livelier level with higher stakes and with the added element of human unpredictability and never quite #knowing what rules someone else is playing by. so he does learn and he plays okay but tends to lose focus somewhere in the first ten turns #so one day they're trying to get through a full game and izzy is sitting off to the side watching them play and ed is kind of trying but his #mind is already wandering elsewhere and he makes frankly ridiculously bad move and izzy is just like 'wait' then sighs walks over to them #and puts the piece back and makes a different move instead saying 'do this instead' and ed's face is just like ??? confused betrayal because #why and how did he not know izzy could play chess?? and stede's eyes of course fill with excitement at the thrill of a new opponent and also #because he's been taking it easy on ed while he gets the hang of the game but is actually rather skilled at chess and would love to impress #with his skills even if the only person who would truly get the brilliance is izzy (and stede admits to himself that izzy does know what #he's doing given that the move he corrected for ed is exactly what he would have done)#so anyway stede does his whole big eyes hopeful voice *vague gestures* thing and is like 'oh you play? care for a game?' and izzy stares #him down for what feels like forever but is actually about 8 seconds before saying 'one. one game' so they reset the board and it's only #fair for stede to let izzy go first but for izzy's first turn instead of moving a piece he rotates the whole board so the white pieces are #in front of stede and says 'i don't think so. not letting you have the excuse to say i only won because i went first' and stede #is a little taken aback but you know what? challenge accepted. game on #it's about twenty turns in when stede starts getting nervous that izzy does in fact know his shit and another ten turns later when he #realizes he may be in over his head #and while it isn't a carelessly simple defeat izzy does end up beating stede #and isn't there just something so satisfying about being the cause of stede making the displeased but invigorated expression he's wearing #(do i have any clue how izzy became a chess genius? no but we can speculate. maybe he played regularly with someone on a ship growing up bc #it was a good way to pass the downtime in an entertaining way without having to talk much at all. or maybe he learned as a child and was #required to keep strict hours of practice so because really good but kind of resented it so maybe this is the most he's ever enjoyed playing #or maybe he was watching as stede taught ed to play and just picked up on some of stede's strategies and/or snuck one of his chess books out

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hellofears · 1 day

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having issues with men, the associations the instant distrust, which i dont like i dont want it i want things to be different, just all of it so much just the dynamic i have the relationship all of it the way the world is atleast online and having a younger brother. I wouldn't trade him for the world, I try and talk to him where I can and will continue to do so i adore him but i fear. i believe in him i want joy for him. I fear that his peers will feed him fckn brainrot and it scares me. not even just that he'll fall into that thinking that his fuckn upstanding that his unwillingness to follow ppl will hurt him. crazy shit at schools, like why tf r ppl dying kids young teens killing eaachother with knives? ??I don't want to loose him i don't want to see him loose who he is and the heart that he has i don't and i hope he rises above it all and will continue to. i feel like im stating what he has to be or smth but all i could ask for is his wellbeing, respect, humanity, that he treats himself well know what he deserves and has some sense of self, some gravity. I feel like shit sometimes for this aspect that i'm concerned that i just idk, i dont like the whole 'dont disappoint me' thing he owes nothing to me other than basic human decency and respect, hes a reason why i live but to i just that intrusive thought of there is no different the hell u think of is real about men to someone i hold so fckn dear to in a way show me their fckn fuckery its idk, like another? it'd hurt me, it'd hurt me bad.

i've never understood men or boys, amab, who go on about their connection or like protectiveness of their sisters of their mother but treat other women like shit like their familiars aren't women? you don't want to fuck them so its different? what is it like just whats the difference why does it have to pertain to you for you to care? do you care or do you see them as an extension? is it a personality trait for you? a 'lover boy' thing? a signal to women, women u imagine u want and is going to be 'ur woman' but u cant even like visualize them in a way that doesnt pertain to your sexual interests? a signal so people can say oh he loves his mother so hes good to go and prime? a 'mummys boy' ? are they not real women just because u dont feel that sort of way? talking about women that way with your friends? do i have to bring up the fact those same people could date your sister etc for you to care? those people could make the kids that surround your kids, your daughter. idk.

its like okay u want sex so u respect them less? did no one hear dont bite the hand that feeds you? what the fuck is going on. you cant fuck them so its all good? the demeaning-ness? lack of gravity, venom is just rapid, vapid

#*txt🗣️#real world issues #i instantly think of counter points before i say anything especially online and i hate it because its like im accustomed to ppl being accus #atory. at being contrary. shitting on vulnerability. shitting on emotions. shitting on hhumanity. shitting on the ability to care.#women can be pieces of shit men can queer folk can i can be you can be to me theres an ability just as people and the world of choice that #-e have. im not saying everyones on the brink of doing the worst and makes a choice not to either if ur going through that u need to seek #help or some sort of sincere dialogue well and truly. but the world around me has made me who i am just as much as my reaction. not all etc #is a no brainer. ppl dont have a neon sign on their forehead. its understandable why the caution has been fckn drilled into so many afab so #many women in the hearts of many and thats hurt fear and absolute rage simmering anger for bs. i understand proventitive cautions to ppl #especially those who tend to be the direct target demographic but to drill in fear to woman to afab not even just on a personal level imsur #everyones experience is different on that front and their thoughts but on a society level and then take no action to then be like atleast t #my knowledge or its just not fckn working bitch its crickets. men should be able to feel safe enough to share their fears and worries to be #vulnerable but that isn't coddling bs and pointing the fingers at women at afab. theres weight in the way both sexes have been socialized #its cause and effect i refuse that it can't be helped. i refuse it. i reject it. thats not me discrediting or trying to come at gender(s)#at ppls gender identity etc. i mean everything makes us who we are. its all part of a journey. ones sex doesn't invalidate such a thing.#humans are so complex to say someones just pulling shit out their ass for the giggles is wild. no matter what it rings true for people #its not for us to choose for eachother we don't choose what others want to share we can't decide how someone else feels we can't read them-#back a book they feel like they've never heard or is bs and give them the finger. u can't tell someone they're the authour and they didn't #write the book or they didn't hire you or agree and want u to write it for them? ur not a ghostwriter bitch ur writing perception #i mean the way we're brought up the way society has become accustomed it effects results its a world in of itself made #to no fruitful benefit atleast to me for any party. when desire grips you at the throat when you allow your will you allow your every whim #the desire isnt even desire anymore. now you're creating a loop you're creating a possibility for a life with no balance #if men are so upstanding they aren't like one another they aren't the bad ones why is the refusal to move forward and write past men up #write them wrong feel so heavy or resound so heavily atleast to me. write for better because you're better. know you're better.#excitement as it once was turns into not enough then again and again. and the core issue even thbere i care for other parties responsibilit #relationships are a back and forth dont choose for others what they want dont decide for others. ask them.#u shouldn't have to constantly prove ur different but heres the thing if in ur life those who know you atleast if u have walked the road #u speak of the valiant road you've trecked supposedly there'd be nothing to prove. you've walked it. if a new person comes along you dont #need effort to show you have basic respect for another. and if u dont have that respect dont get mad at those who dont want u in their live #u took yourself out their market. life is a in moment custom experience. buckle up. not me talking about love like a business worker or smt

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theygender · 1 year

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I'm now OFFICIALLY permanent at my new data analysis job which in addition to being super cool bc I get to autistically play around in Excel for money now ALSO means that I can get my next piercings since I no longer have to wear a headset for ten hours a day and I am vibrating in excitement. I can finally get more holes stabbed into me

#ive been wanting to get more ear piercings for YEARS #but that is not a good idea when you work at a call center #i can FINALLY get my next ones done tho. im gonna be getting two more helix piercings on my left ear (for a total of three)#once they heal enough for me to change the jewelry ill have so many options to make them look cool #i cant really buy a lot of cool jewelry bc im allergic to most metals which is part of why im just sticking to ear piercings #but with them all being in a line like that i can mix different 'plain' pieces in cool ways #three barbells in a line is already gonna look cool but imagine three jeweled studs in a line #or three captive ball rings kinda draped over each other #or MAYBE if i can find one thats the right type of metal even one of those spiral piercings that goes through all of them #the possibilities are endless #after those heal completely (i am NOT gonna have both of my ears healing at once i would like to be able to SLEEP bro)#i plan to get an industrial on my right ear #im SO excited yall ive been waiting for YEARS & now im finally gonna have my plans for my left ear finished hopefully within a week or two #and then in about half a year or so i can get my plans for my right ear finished too #a year after that ill be fully healed and either be completely done or ready for the new ideas i came up with in the meantime #im going to become the cool dyke with a lot of piercings that i was always meant to be 🙏#and healing is gonna be much easier now that my sides are shaved. less chance of getting my hair caught or getting shampoo in it #this is gonna be great #rambling

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kellystar321 · 11 months

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#periodical life updates #lets hope this one goes better than the last one </3 #anyway hi everyone. im in an entirely different timezone during this trip so its actually mid afternoon right now #thats not what this is about though this is about how im EXCITED FOR ARTFIGHT AS USUAL!!! lemmy posted his s/is and theyre so cute <3 #also the theme reveal is coming on the 23! i hope its enough time for the theme templates? i love doing the theme templates with everyone :#this'll be my seventh year participating holy sht!! ive been doing this for seven (7) years!!!!!!!!#ive been feeling like ive been improving in art every artfight but idk how i'll fare this year. i feel like ive been a bit stagnant #and i did some PRETTY KILLER PIECES LAST YEAR;;; who knows if i'll top it; especially with summer college classes UGH #miserable about that btw. college my beloathed forever and ever amen. :/ ive been meaning to fix a few characters profiles and add some too #FINALLY going to separate kelly and jace! kelly is now the bureau of balance halfling only <3 ive been redrawing a new design of her :>#she has cute pointed ears now heho!! and actual more fantasy-esque clothes to fit her universe <3 jace is getting a separate profile!#jace is now solely my sona and i look SO much more gender now with the haircut and i can post my refs <33 #i also want to post agent and icarus and all the javelins but that means i have to draw them actually hfjkh <33 #i should also actually add something to shen's profile hfkjfh i care more about xer worldbuilding than xer character i feel </3 #IVE BEEN MEANING TO GET QUEUE BACK UP but everytime i look at my drafts i feel so tired </3 theres ART i want to reblog!!!#ough. some other time. okay! im gonna get my artfight discord channel back up and running for the new artfight season! let's go let's go!#oh and i'll be sure to announce which team im joining obviously hdjfdh it'll probably be the lighthearted one <3 #some of the themes this year are a little off? (stars vs nebula? heart vs soul? arent those the same thing?) but im hoping for the best <3 #okay frfr going now! hope for queue soon maybe if i have time/energy! working on artfight! lets goooooo!! <3

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mymarifae · 1 year

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i think that you would be an amazing teacher and i wish i could be in your class

aw thank you so much!! i'm glad you think so.. hopefully i can make at least one student's high school career a little easier, and hopefully i can remind them why they should never stop loving learning, no matter how hard the school system tries to beat it out of them :')

#it's sad how few teachers acknowledge how the school system literally does not promote or reward learning #the way schools are designed now is like... they just want you to memorize. keep it in your head long enough to pass a test #and then you can forget all about it. all that matters are those stupid standardized tests lollllllllll #the way this approach to schooling has decimated how language arts (my subject) is taught is especially infuriating #it's no longer about learning to analyze literature and how to think for yourself while also understanding the author's original message #i see so many people say they lost points on language arts assignments for not interpreting the theme 'correctly'#and that makes me so fucking mad. like yeah it's possible to interpret something incorrectly like just look at tumblr.com #BUT. very very very very rarely is there just ONE 100% 'correct' way to interpret a piece of literature #language arts teachers should not be giving out failing grades when their students pull out new themes and meanings from literature!!!!#they should be EXCITED! they should want to hold a discussion and see where those unique interpretations came from #all teachers should be open to learning from their students. but in a subject as nuanced and subjective as language arts?#it's absurd to act like there's one correct answer because no the fuck there isn't #i believe that as long as the student can explain why they came to a certain conclusion and cite the passages that made them think that-#then like. they're right. their interpretation is valid.#the beauty of literature is different people will pick up on different themes based on their own experiences and personal worldview #i don't understand why that gets punished when that's the whole fucking point of studying literature #anyway #mailbox

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airagorncharda · 9 months

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For any followers of mine still living with parents, guardians, family, or even just with roommates and who've never lived alone and/or fully on your own terms (whether ye be 16 or 60), I have TWO pieces of wisdom for you for when you eventually do:

You WILL discover that you were wrong about some shit you felt pretty strongly about before. Maybe you never realized how often your mom ACTUALLY cleans the bathroom and it turns out she asked for help really rarely. Maybe, much as it grates to admit, putting $50 into a different savings account every paycheck really IS the ONLY way to save any fucking money. Maybe that big rolling trashcan you resented your roommate putting in the kitchen, and got in that big fight about, really WAS super convenient and now you have to buy one for yourself after they move out and take it with them. Maybe blanching vegetables so they retain their color when cooked actually DOES enhance a meal, pretty food slaps actually, and the reason you didn't think it was worth the effort is because you were depressed.

You WILL also discover new shit that works SO much better for you than everything you'd been taught. Maybe you'll discover that dropping trash off at a recycling center at your convenience works way better for your brain than getting it picked up on a set day. Maybe you'll realize you don't actually hate tofu, you just hate how your family cooks tofu. Maybe you'll love being able to walk around the house naked whenever you want. Maybe you'll find you thrive in a space with giant framed nude photography, or taxidermy animals, or fandom themed Everything. Maybe you'll realize that keeping the thermostat set like 5 degrees colder (or hotter) than is typical makes you sleep better than you ever have before in your whole life.

The point of this wisdom is: Stay humble, but also, stay excited. There's no point pretending you weren't wrong about shit you were wrong about, just eat the crow and move on. But also, there's so much to look forward to about your own space-- even more than you could ever imagine when you don't have it yet.

#my posts #my thoughts #idk what to tag this #adulting #i guess #hope #?#most of these aren't me specific but the recycling center and blanching food definitely are

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videostak · 8 months

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youtube

THIS. now THIS is what good pussy sounds like.

#excited for my CD of this to come it hasnt shipped yet but i believe its the same performance as this one #has different cover art in line w/ a wider release of stockhausens catalog on CD #holger czukay talks abt this piece a lot which is what introduced me to it #think my fav stockhausen is probs telemusik and hymnen i like a lot but this could become a new fav idk #Youtube

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espinosaurusrexex · 3 months

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Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU

read Steve's story here

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

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

word count: 16.4k 😬

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dinner is booked.”

“You’re really doing it huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Never?”

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

“Tomorrow night?"

"Ironbar."

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

“No...”

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

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

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

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

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

“Now that’s bullshit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision.

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

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

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

There was just one problem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, that had to change now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, Sir.”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pardon me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait you’re working for SPS?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so you did.

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s very admirable for that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here? Alone?”

“Yes.”

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

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

“Doll...”

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”

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

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

“How do you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That bad, huh?”

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

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

“Gee, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And honestly? You didn’t know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed.

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

“What?” He faced him again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”

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

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

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

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

Oh, hell no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Name one.”

“Me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”

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

What the actual fuck?

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

“Look at you growing all protective.”

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Is... is this about the other day?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why?

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

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

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

“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what are you waiting for?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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jinkiezzsstuff · 3 months

Text

In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

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halfvalid · 8 months

Text

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze.

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too.

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling.

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?”

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded.

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?”

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it.

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.”

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh.

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.”

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?”

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy.

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.”

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?”

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?”

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face.

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder.

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.”

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.”

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.”

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?”

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

“Not really what I’m into.”

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.”

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?”

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day.

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on.

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled.

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said.

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.”

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?”

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?”

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.”

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?”

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?”

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.”

“You always look nice.”

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.”

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.”

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said.

“Better how?”

“You can probably run in it.”

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep.

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on.

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.”

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty?

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs.

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from.

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened.

“Because of… clothing?”

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?”

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until—

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling.

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size.

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising.

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.”

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it.

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—”

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.”

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp.

“Let me see.”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively.

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.”

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—”

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“Oh.”

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.”

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point.

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Am not.”

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.”

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.”

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins.

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid.

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—”

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.”

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him.

“I said you looked pretty in this one.”

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—”

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.”

Your breath caught.

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?”

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.”

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!”

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart.

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.”

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline.

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.”

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go.

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change.

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