#but he asked for his birthday đŸ„č
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alexsshittyworld · 2 years ago
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Wednesday: Enid is actually
 my girlfriend.
Enid: *sweating*
Morticia:
Gomez:
Pugsley:
Pugsley: Oh, so Wednesday can get a werewolf but I can’t?!
Morticia: Pugsley, darling-
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kaerinio · 1 month ago
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alright, i am here! i'm super tired from everything surrounding the surprise party i threw for my partner . . . bUT GOD, THE EXHAUSTION IS SO WORTH IT! đŸ„č the party was last night, and he was so shocked. i've never seen my partner like shocked-shocked before?? he is usually pretty unflappable. but when he walked up the stairs and saw everyone and they shouted "surprise" HE JUST LOOKED SO HECKIN PRECIOUS? he was shocked and confused and so excited. he just went "hi" very quietly 😂 to everyone?? then turned to me with the widest eyes, like he literally couldn't believe any of it. he had a great time! đŸ„č
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chanstopher · 1 year ago
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guys my birthday is in a few days i’m soooo pumped 😭
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avatardoggo · 9 months ago
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THIS MAN MADE ME A WEBSITE FOR MY BIRTHDAY đŸ„čđŸ˜«đŸ˜ŁđŸ˜łđŸ˜­đŸ„°
#sooo it’s past my birthday now and FG didn’t get me anything besides a real alt sweet card and a heart shaped box of chocolates which was#nice but he kept insisting that he wasn’t finished making my present just yet so i was like ok cool whatever and i would ask him every once#and a while bc i really thought he was making me like lego flowers bc he likes that type of thing (which is so cute omgoodness idky i love#that sm about him like he likes to build legos 😆😆 so cute!!!) aannnywayyssss he came over the other day to drop off my present so expecting#some box or whatever and he just pulls up with his backpacks but i’m like ok that’s fine it has to be Somewhere right??? and then he pulls#out is laptop and i’m like ookkkaaayy idk where this is going and the. he pulls up the page aND ITS A WEBSITE FOR MY CROCHET BUSINESS AND đŸ„čđŸ„č#HE MADE IT FROM SCRATCH WITH CODING AND EVERYTHING BC DUH HES A COMP SCIENTIST AND!!!!!!!#he was like i wanted to make you something that’ll you’ll need and would want as well and i was so shOOketh i was using my soft girl voice#and i was looking at him like đŸ„șđŸ„șđŸ„ș the whole evening bECAUSE!!!! SIR 😭 YOU HAVE SET THE BAR SKY HIGH and he was all shy (so friggin cute)#“do you like it đŸ‘‰đŸŸđŸ‘ˆđŸŸđŸ„ș and i was just looking at him like â˜čïžđŸ˜ŁđŸ„ș😧 I LOVE IT!!!#he hasn’t finished it bc he needs my input on some stuff before he continues but it should be done by the summer and he’s like maybe we can#work on it together LIKE BABE SWEETHEART DARLING OFC WE CAN DUUUHHHH#i’m honestly so in awe of this man i can’t even#Friendly Giant â„ąïž#FG#mutuals my beloved <3#vk overshares in the tags
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kaidabakugou · 2 years ago
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get you a partner that will celebrate your blorbo’s birthday with you 😌
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monicaalexandraaa · 2 months ago
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SAM !!!!!! THIS ONE !!!!!!!! Saaammmmm !!!!!!!
I saw this posted and for some reason I just felt like I couldn’t do anything else before I read this and yeah I think everyone else should stop what they’re doing right now and read this. Oh my heart. My hearrrrrtttttt. The way you write your fmc’s is magnificent. I always feel like I’m in their brain and their heart. I felt for her sooooo much. You often cover such real and relatable struggles and you excel at it. This was phenomenal. The angst, the fluff, all of it. Just so so good. I feel like I can’t properly explain my thoughts (the tags may help) but WOW! đŸ©·đŸ©·
Independent
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~10.6k words
From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.
Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.
Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
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Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.
Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.
Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍
Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.
She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.
Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.
“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.
She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”
*
Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.
It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.
Which was fine by Harry.
He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.
Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.
She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?
A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”
“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”
He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.
Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”
“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.
“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.
He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.
*
But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.
Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.
“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”
“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.
“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.
Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.
“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”
Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.
Her cheeks turned bright red.
“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”
Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”
The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.
This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”
Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.
“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.
“Water’s included.”
“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.
“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.
“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.
“In-unit washer and dryer.”
“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?
“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.
“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”
“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”
“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”
She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.
But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.
*
True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.
There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”
She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”
He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.
“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”
He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”
“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”
He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”
That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.
She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”
“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”
“Offer stands,” she assured him.
Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.
She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”
“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.
“Oh, I can take—”
“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.
“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.
“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.
When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”
“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”
She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”
“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”
Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.
*
Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.
Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?
Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.
No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.
It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.
He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.
But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.
She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.
“Yes,” he nodded.
“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”
“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.
*
Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.
But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.
She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”
“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”
“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”
The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”
She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”
“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s dĂ©cor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.
“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”
He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”
“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”
He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”
“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”
“Course.”
They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” she smiled.
“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”
“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”
“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”
“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.
“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.
*
“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.
“Me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, you.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”
“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”
Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.
“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”
“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”
“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”
She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”
“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.
“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”
“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.
“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.
“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”
*
At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.
He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.
Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.
Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.
Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.
“Because of the cookies?”
“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”
She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”
He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.
*
“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.
It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.
“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.
That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.
“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.
“Lint roller!”
They all called out items and she had every single one.
“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.
Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.
“I get it,” he chuckled.
“If you need it, chances are she has it.”
“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.
Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?
*
Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.
“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.
“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”
“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”
“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.
“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”
“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”
“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”
“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”
“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.
“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.
He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.
“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.
She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.
“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.
“Thanks, Poppy.”
*
Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.
Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”
“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”
She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.
Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.
The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.
She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.
After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.
“Are y’cold?” He asked.
She shook her head.
But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.
But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”
She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.
Harry really enjoyed holding her.
*
At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.
Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.
“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.
Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.
She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”
He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.
She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”
*
For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.  
He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.
It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).
Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).
She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.
He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.
She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?
She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”
It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”
She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.
He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”
She giggled and shook her head. “No.”
“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”
*
When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.
She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”
“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.
She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.
“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”
“Harry—”
“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”
She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”
Harry frowned. “So?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”
But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”
“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”
The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”
Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”
The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”
“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”
He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”
It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.
“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”
*
She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.
Even when she should have asked.
Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.
Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.
When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.
“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.
“Harry,” she protested.
“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”
“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”
“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.
She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.
“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.
“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.
It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.
It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.
*
Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.
Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.
Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.
Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.
The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”
Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”
“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.
Then, he started reading.
Out loud.
“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.
“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.
“You don’t have to—”
He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.
Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.
*
Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.
He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.
One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.
Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.
Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.
He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.
“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.
“Yeah?” She whispered.
If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”
“I can’t.”
“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”
She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.
His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.
Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.
For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.
Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.
Hope bloomed inside him.
*
She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.
All he did was make her soup.
She deserved so much more.
It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.
“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.
“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.
She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“You haven’t said no.”
"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.
Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.
“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”
She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.
"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.
She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.
As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."
A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.
"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”
*
Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.
He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.
Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.
It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.
Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.
“Harry?”
He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”
“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”
He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.
He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.
He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.
“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.
Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.
"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.
Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.
"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.
*
Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.
But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.
“Harry?” Her voice was raw.
“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.
“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.
He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing t’be sorry for.”
"I have issues."
"We can work on them together."
"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.
"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.
She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."
"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.
She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."
Harry nodded. "Well—"
"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."
It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.
Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”
She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.
"What, Poppy?"
"Do you love me already?"
"Of course I do."
She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”
“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.
He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.
“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"
“I’m in love with you too.”
--
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If you like this, check out my masterlist here
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harrysfolklore · 1 month ago
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birthdays - cl16
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summary: charles and yn's love story spans over two decades, beginning when they meet at charles' 6th birthday party, where she promised to be there for all of his birthdays. wc: 4.6k
folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAIN BOY đŸ„čđŸ„č a few years ago i wrote a fic like this for harry and it’s one of my favorite things i’ve posted so i felt like doing a charles version! i hope you like this as much as i do <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
6th birthday
The sun shone brightly over Monaco as YN and her mother walked down the tree-lined street. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the salty breeze from the nearby Mediterranean. The little girl clutched her mother's hand tightly, her eyes wide as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings of their new neighborhood.
"Are you excited for the party, sweetheart?" her mother asked, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
She nodded hesitantly. "But what if the other kids don't like me?"
"Don't worry, darling. I'm sure you'll make friends in no time," her mother assured her as they approached a beautiful villa with colorful balloons tied to the gate.
As they entered the backyard, they were greeted by the sight of children running around, laughter filling the air. A large bounce house dominated one corner, while a face-painting station was set up near the house. Tables adorned with race car-themed decorations were scattered around, laden with snacks and party favors.
A warm voice caught their attention. "Welcome! You must be our new neighbors."
YN looked up to see a kind-faced woman approaching them, a welcoming smile on her face.
"I'm Pascale Leclerc," she introduced herself, shaking her mother's hand. "And this must be YN! We're so glad you could make it."
She shyly hid behind her mother's leg, peeking out at Pascale.
"Charles!" Pascale called out. "Come here, darling. There's someone I'd like you to meet."
A small boy with tousled brown hair and bright blue eyes came running over, his cheeks flushed from playing.
"Charles, this is YN. She's new to the neighborhood," Pascale explained. "Why don't you introduce her to your friends?"
Charles grinned widely, revealing a missing front tooth. "Hi! Do you want to play with us? We're having a treasure hunt!"
She looked up at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, she stepped out from behind her mother's leg.
"Okay," she said softly, "And happy birthday."
Charles's grin grew even wider. He reached out and took her hand. "Come on! I'll show you where we've found clues already!"
For the rest of the afternoon, YN found herself caught up in the excitement of the party. She and Charles searched for treasure and bounced in the bounce house. By the time the cake was brought out the little girl was laughing and chatting with her new friends as if she'd known them for years.
As the party began to wind down and parents started arriving to pick up their children, Charles approached YN, a serious look on his young face.
"YN," he said, "will you come to my other birthdays too?"
"Yes!" she nodded enthusiastically. "We should be friends!"
Charles's face lit up. "Best friends!" he declared, holding out his pinky.
The girl linked her pinky with his, sealing their newfound friendship. As she left the party, clutching a goody bag and wearing a bright smile, she knew she had found something special in her new home.
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12th birthday
The wheels of their bicycles whirred as YN and Charles raced down the winding streets of Monaco. The sun beat down on them, but the breeze created by their speed kept them cool. YN's laughter echoed off the buildings as she pedaled harder, trying to keep up with Charles.
"Come on!” Charles called over his shoulder, a mischievous grin on his face. "We're going to be late for my own party!"
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "It's your fault for insisting on this bike race, birthday boy!"
They skidded to a stop in front of Charles's house, both breathing heavily but grinning from ear to ear. The front yard was already bustling with activity - balloons bobbed in the breeze, and the chatter of arriving guests filled the air.
As they walked their bikes to the garage, YN nudged Charles with her elbow. "I can't believe you're twelve already. You're practically ancient."
Charles laughed, running a hand through his windswept hair. "Says the girl who's been twelve for a whole two months. Come on, I smell cake!"
The party was in full swing, with kids from their school playing games and enjoying the sunny day. Charles's parents had outdone themselves this year, setting up a mini go-kart track in the backyard. The birthday boy, of course, was the undisputed champion, zipping around the track with a skill that left his friends in awe.
As the afternoon wore on, everyone gathered around a large table. In the center stood a cake, decorated to look like a Formula 1 car, complete with Charles' lucky number on the side. Twelve candles flickered atop the cake, their flames dancing in the gentle breeze.
Charles's eyes widened as his parents brought out the cake and the guests began to sing "Happy Birthday," their voices rising in a cheerful chorus. YN sang along enthusiastically, watching her best friend's face light up with joy.
As the song came to an end, Charles took a deep breath. With a determined look in his eye, he leaned forward and blew out all twelve candles in one go.
While Charles's mother began cutting the cake, YN edged closer to her best friend. "So," she said with a grin, "what did you wish for? To finally beat me in Mario Kart?"
Charles glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in close. "I wished to win the Monaco Grand Prix one day," he confessed, his green eyes sparkling with dreams of future glory.
YN's smile softened. Even after six years of friendship, Charles's passion for racing never failed to impress her.
"Wow," she said. "That's a pretty big wish."
"It's my biggest dream. But you can't tell anyone, okay? Or it won't come true."
"Your secret's safe with me," she promised. Then, struck by a sudden thought, she held out her pinky finger. "Hey, remember when we promised to be friends forever at your sixth birthday?"
"Of course!" Charles's face lit up with recognition, "Best decision I ever made," he said, linking his pinky with hers.
"Well, let's renew that promise. Friends forever, no matter what. That way, when you win the Monaco Grand Prix, I'll be right there cheering you on."
"Deal," Charles agreed, shaking their linked pinkies. "Forever friends."
As they sealed their promise for the second time, both of them felt the weight of it. At twelve, forever seemed like an awfully long time, but neither could imagine a future without the other in it.
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16th birthday
The Italian sun was setting, painting the sky in orange and pink as YN made her way through the bustling paddock. The air smelt of rubber and gasoline, the sounds of engines filling her ears. She clutched a small, wrapped package in her hands, her eyes scanning the team garages for a familiar face.
Finally, she spotted him - Charles was standing next to his Formula 3 car, deep in conversation with his engineer. Even from a distance, she could see the intensity in his eyes, the determination set in his jaw. At sixteen, Charles was no longer the little boy she'd met at that birthday party a decade ago. He was taller now, leaner, with the beginnings of stubble on his chin.
"Charles!" she called out, waving to catch his attention.
His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and his serious expression melted into a wide grin. "YN! You made it!" He excused himself from his engineer and jogged over to her, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Of course I made it," YN laughed, returning the embrace, "I couldn't miss your birthday, even if you insisted on spending it at a racetrack in Italy."
Charles pulled back, his eyes shining with excitement. "I'm so glad you're here. Come on, let me show you around."
As they walked through the paddock, Charles pointed out different teams and drivers, explaining the intricacies of Formula 3 racing. She listened intently, asking questions and marveling at how much Charles had grown not just in stature, but in knowledge and passion for his sport.
They ended up in Charles' team garage, where a small cake sat on a tool cart, a single candle stuck in the center.
"The team got it for me," Charles explained, looking a bit embarrassed. "They said we had to have something, even if we're not having a proper party."
YN smiled softly. "Well, then we better make it count." She lit the candle and started singing "Happy Birthday," her voice soon joined by the mechanics and other team members who had gathered around.
Charles blew out the candle, his cheeks slightly flushed. As the cake was being cut and distributed, YN handed him her gift.
"It's not much," she said as he unwrapped it, "but I thought you might like it."
Inside was a leather-bound journal, the cover embossed with Charles' initials.
"I thought you could use it to write down your thoughts, your goals
 maybe even your future Formula 1 strategies," she explained with a wink.
Charles's eyes lit up. "This is perfect. Thank you." He pulled her into another hug, this one lasting a bit longer than usual.
As they sat on the pit wall, eating cake and watching the sun set over the track, YN turned to Charles. "So, how does it feel? Being here, racing in Formula 3
 you're so close to your dream now."
Charles nodded, his expression turning serious. "It feels amazing, but also a bit scary. Everything's happening so fast, you know? Sometimes I worry
"
"Worry about what?" she prompted gently.
"That I might not be good enough," Charles sighed, "That I'll let everyone down."
"Charles, look at me," YN reached out and took his hand, when he met her eyes, she continued, "You are the most talented, dedicated person I know. You're going to make it to Formula 1, and you're going to be amazing."
"You really think so?" a small smile tugged at Charles's lips.
"I know so," she affirmed,then, with a playful nudge, she added, "Just promise me one thing?"
"Anything," Charles replied without hesitation.
"When you make it to Formula 1 and become a big star, don't forget about me, okay?"
Charles's expression softened, and for a moment, YN thought she saw something flicker in his eyes - something more than just friendship. But before she could analyze it, he squeezed her hand and said, "I could never forget about you. No matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend."
What YN didn't know was that in that moment, Charles was fighting the urge to tell her how he really felt. That she wasn't just his best friend, but the girl he had fallen in love with years ago.
But the timing wasn't right, not yet.
So he pushed the feelings down, locked them away. There would be time for matters of the heart later. For now, he had a championship to win and a birthday to celebrate - with his best friend by his side, just as she'd always been.
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21st birthday
The Monaco night was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Charles Leclerc's 21st birthday party was in full swing at a rooftop bar overlooking the Mediterranean.
The who's who of the racing world mingled with Charles' friends and family, all gathered to celebrate the young Sauber driver's birthday.
YN stood at the edge of the crowd, nursing a glass of champagne as she watched Charles work the room. He moved with an easy confidence, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with team principals and fellow drivers. Yet every few minutes, his eyes would scan the crowd until they found her, and he'd flash her a quick smile before returning to his conversations.
As the night wore on, YN found herself on the balcony, enjoying a moment of quiet away from the party. The view of Monaco at night was breathtaking - the lights of the city twinkled below, mirroring the stars above.
"There you are," a familiar voice said behind her. "I've been looking for you."
She turned to see Charles approaching, two fresh glasses of champagne in his hands. He handed one to her before leaning on the balcony railing beside her.
"Sorry," she said with a small smile. "I just needed a bit of air. It's quite a party in there."
"Yeah, I think the team might have gone a bit overboard," Charles chuckled, "But I'm glad you're here."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping their champagne and looking out over the city.
"So," YN said finally, turning to face him. "How does it feel to be 21? Official adult now, Formula 1 driver
 you're living the dream, Charles."
Charles's expression turned thoughtful. "It feels
 surreal, honestly. Sometimes I can't believe this is my life." He paused, then added softly, "But you know what the best part is?"
"What's that?"
Charles turned to face her, his green eyes intense in the moonlight. "That you're still here. After all these years, all these changes
 you're still by my side."
YN felt her heart skip a beat at the earnestness in his voice. "Of course I am, Charles. I'll always be here for you. We made a promise, remember? Best friends forever."
Charles felt his heart race at her words. "Best friends forever." The phrase that had once brought him so much comfort now felt like a bittersweet reminder of the feelings he'd been harboring for so long.
As he looked at her, bathed in the soft glow of the Monaco night, memories flooded his mind. He thought of her cheering him on at his first go-kart race, of late-night study sessions where he'd catch himself staring at her instead of his textbooks, of the way his heart had leapt when she'd surprised him at his race in Italy on his 16th birthday. He realized he couldn't pinpoint exactly when he'd fallen in love with her because, in a way, he always had been.
The weight of his unspoken feelings suddenly felt unbearable. The thought of going another day, another year, without her knowing the truth seemed impossible. Charles took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do.
"YN," he said softly, setting down his champagne glass and taking her free hand in his. "There's something I need to tell you."
She looked up at him, curiosity and a hint of something else – was it hope? – in her eyes. "What is it, Charles?"
Charles swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. "You're right, we did make a promise to be best friends forever. And you are my best friend, YN. You're the person who knows me better than anyone else in the world. But..." he paused, gathering his courage. "But you're not just my best friend. You're the one I'm in love with. I always have been."
YN's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. Charles pressed on, unable to stop now that he'd started.
"I can't hold back anymore. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Every success and failure, every moment of doubt or triumph – you're the one I want to share it all with. Not just as my friend, but as... as more."
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know this might change everything between us, and if you don't feel the same way, I understand. But I couldn't let another birthday go by without telling you the truth. You're it for me, YN. You always have been."
For a moment that felt like an eternity, she stood frozen, her eyes locked with Charles's. The weight of his words hung in the air between them, charged with years of unspoken feelings and shared history.
Then, without warning, YN closed the distance between them. She reached up, cupping Charles's face in her hands, and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. Charles, caught off guard for only a split second, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he returned the kiss with equal fervor.
When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, YN rested her forehead against Charles'. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears of joy as she whispered, "I love you too, Charles. I think I always have."
Charles felt his heart soar, a smile spreading across his face that was brighter than any he'd ever worn on a podium. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder and hope.
She nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Really. I just... I never thought you'd feel the same way. You're Charles, I'm just-"
"You're everything," Charles interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. "You're my best friend, my biggest supporter, the person I want to share every moment with. You're the one who knows all of me, not just the racer, but the boy who still gets nervous before every race and who can't sleep without his lucky charm."
YN smiled, remembering the small trinket she'd given him years ago that he still kept with him at every race. "We've been quite oblivious, haven't we?" she said, shaking her head in amusement.
Charles chuckled, pulling her close again. "Maybe. But we have all the time in the world to make up for it now."
As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms with the twinkling lights of Monaco as their backdrop, both felt as though they were exactly where they were meant to be. The sounds of the party drifted out to them, a reminder of the celebration waiting inside, but for now, they were content in their own world.
"Happy birthday, Charles," YN murmured, leaning in for another kiss.
Charles smiled against her lips. "Best birthday ever," he replied before closing the distance between them once more.
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24th birthday
The sun was setting over Monaco as YN stood in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She smoothed down her dress, a sleek number in Charles' favorite shade of red. As she fastened her earrings, she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.
"You look absolutely stunning," Charles murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder and meeting her eyes in the mirror.
She smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "You clean up pretty well yourself, birthday boy," she replied, taking in his sharp suit and perfectly styled hair.
Charles pressed a soft kiss to the curve of her neck, causing her to shiver slightly. "You know," he said, his voice low and playful, "we could always skip the party. Stay here, just the two of us
"
"Nice try, Leclerc," YN laughed, turning in his arms to face him, "But your team worked hard on this party, and all your friends and family are waiting." She reached up, straightening his tie. "Besides, I put a lot of effort into your gift. I want to see your face when you open it."
"Oh? Any hints about what it might be?" Charles' eyes lit up with curiosity.
"Not a chance," YN grinned, tapping his nose playfully. "You'll just have to wait and see."
He pouted for a moment before breaking into a warm smile. "Fine, keep your secrets. As long as I have you by my side, that's all the gift I need."
YN felt her heart melt at his words. Even after all these years, Charles still had the ability to make her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
"I love you," she whispered against his mouth.
"I love you too," Charles replied, deepening the kiss for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. "But you're right, we should get going. We don't want to be late to my own party."
As they drove through the winding streets of Monaco, the city lights twinkling like stars, YN couldn't help but steal glances at Charles. Suddenly, she noticed that they were heading away from the bustling city center.
"Charles?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice. "I think we're going the wrong way. The party's downtown, isn't it?"
Charles smiled mysteriously, his eyes never leaving the road. "I thought we'd take a little detour first. Trust me?"
"Always."
They drove in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the familiar sights of Monaco giving way to a quieter, more residential area. Finally, Charles pulled up in front of a beautiful house, its elegant facade bathed in the glow of streetlights.
"Charles, what are we doing here?" YN asked as he came around to open her door.
He took her hand, helping her out of the car. "I have something to show you," he said softly, leading her towards the house.
As they approached the front door, Charles pulled out a key. YN's eyes widened in surprise. "Charles, is this...?"
He unlocked the door and gently guided her inside. The house was empty, but even in the dim light, she could see its potential - high ceilings, large windows, and an open floor plan that seemed to invite warmth and laughter.
Charles watched her take it all in, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. Finally, he spoke.
"YN, from the moment I met you, you've been my home. No matter where I am in the world, no matter what challenges I face on the track, you're my constant. My safe haven."
She turned to face him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Charles continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But I realized that while you've given me a home in your heart, I've never been able to offer you a physical place that's truly ours. Until now."
He took both of her hands in his. "This house... I bought it for us. I want it to be our home. A place where we can build our future together, where we can come back to after long days or weeks apart. A place filled with our love and hopefully... our family someday."
Tears were now flowing freely down YN's cheeks. "Charles," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
"I know my career keeps us traveling a lot," he said, reaching up to wipe away her tears gently. "But I want you to have roots, a place that's ours. Where you can always feel safe and loved, even when I'm not there."
YN let out a watery laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "You never cease to amaze me, Charles Leclerc. This is... it's perfect. It's more than I ever dreamed of."
"So, what do you say?" Charles pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers, "Ready to start our next chapter here?"
Instead of answering with words, she closed the gap between them, pouring all her love and gratitude into a passionate kiss. When they finally parted, both breathless, she whispered, "Yes. A thousand times, yes."
They stood there in the empty house that would soon become their home, holding each other close. The party, the guests, the whole world outside ceased to exist for a moment. It was just the two of them, standing on the threshold of their future together.
After a while, Charles chuckled softly. "You know, we're probably very late for the party now."
"I know," she said, her voice still thick with emotion, "It's supposed to be me giving you gifts on your birthday, not the other way around."
Charles chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, I've never been very good at following rules," he teased. "Besides, seeing your face when I showed you our home? That's the best gift I could ever receive."
YN shook her head, a warm smile playing on her lips. "You're impossible, you know that? But I love you for it."
"And I love you, for as long as I can remember."
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27th birthday
Charles stood on the balcony of their home, the same one he had surprised YN with three years ago. His fingers absently traced the outline of a small velvet box in his pocket, his heart racing with anticipation and nerves.
Inside, he could hear her moving about, putting the finishing touches on his birthday dinner. The aroma of his favorite dishes filled the air, bringing a smile to his face. At 27, Charles had achieved more than he ever dreamed possible – multiple Formula 1 wins, a strong contender for the championship, and most importantly, a life shared with his best friend and the love of his life.
"Charles?" her voice called from inside. "Dinner's ready!"
He took a deep breath, patting the ring box one last time before heading inside. The dining room was bathed in soft candlelight, the table set beautifully with their best china. YN stood by the table, looking radiant in a deep red dress that matched the color he wore on race days.
"Happy birthday, my love," she said softly, pulling him into a tender kiss.
As they sat down to eat, Charles couldn't help but marvel at how far they'd come. "You know," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand, "I was just thinking about my sixth birthday party."
"The day we met," she said with a warm smile. "How could I forget? I was so nervous about moving to a new place."
Charles chuckled, remembering the shy little girl who had hidden behind her mother's leg. "And now look at us. Twenty-one years later, and you're still the best gift I've ever received."
YN felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "I remember you asked me to come to all your future birthdays," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
"And you've been here for every single one," Charles replied, his green eyes shining with love.
The weight of the ring box in Charles' pocket seemed to grow heavier, but he resisted the urge to pull it out just yet. Tonight was about celebrating. The proposal could wait for another perfect moment.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he continued, "but I thank my lucky stars every day that you walked into that birthday party all those years ago. You've made every birthday since then more special than the last."
"Oh, Charles," she whispered, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "You've given me more than I ever dreamed possible. That little girl who was so scared of not fitting in found her home in you."
They came together in a kiss that was soft and sweet, yet filled with the depth of their shared history and the promise of their future. As they held each other close, both were transported back to that sunny day in Monaco, two six-year-olds making a promise of friendship that had blossomed into a love story for the ages.
When they finally pulled apart, Charles rested his forehead against hers, a soft smile playing on his lips. "So," he said, his voice light but filled with emotion, "think you might stick around for a few more birthdays?"
YN laughed, the sound like music to Charles' ears. "Just try and keep me away, Leclerc. You're stuck with me for all your birthdays, forever and always."
As they finished their dinner, Charles felt the ring box in his pocket once more. Soon, he thought, he'd ask her to make it official, to promise him not just all his birthdays, but every day in between.
But for now, he was content to bask in the glow of their love, celebrating not just his 27th birthday, but the incredible journey they'd shared.
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grugruel · 4 months ago
Text
Your daddy know 'bout this?
(Don't be fooled, there's no daddy kink!)
Pairings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader
MDNI/NSFW
Masterlist
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Summary: A few days short of your 21st birthday, you decide to celebrate with your friend at the local bar. Unbeknownst to you, a close friend of your dad's is there.
When he sees you with beer in hand and in the lap of another man, things get heated. Somehow, you end up in his shirt, at his house.
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: pinv sex, passionate sex, forbidden realationship, violence, blood, underaged drinking, slight angst, cum eating, I love yous', mentions of masturation, tension, arguments, slight jealousy and protectiveness, pet names (girl, woman, ma'am, princess, sweetheart)
AN: not yet proofread, might be rough around the edges! Enjoy girliesđŸ„čđŸ«¶
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It was his one free night in a long time, and his buds pulled him along for a drink. He had no real objections, for he was in a good mood and it'd get even better once he had a drink in him.
The group of men emerged from the damp, rainy night and dove into the smoke tainted air and usual bustle of the local dive. They ordered their drinks and made their way to the back where the booths were, a jumble of familiar faces greeting them on their way. Until-
Bucky saw a face he ought not to see in a place like this. "Excuse me a moment, fellas. I got somethin' to take care of."
Their group turned to him, confused. "Wha-" and looked in the direction he was already headed. "Well shit, good thing her daddy ain't come with us." The group shared a few nervous glances, then shrugged and chuckled. "Wouldn't want to be one of those boys right now."
-
"Well . . . " a voice chuckled loudly.
She could see the source approaching their table from her peripheral, his form vaguely illuminated by soft lamp light through the gloom. " . . . Aint this a sight?"
She knew that voice, she could hear the telltale grin that shaped it.
Catching onto the change in energy, the giggles and boisterous laughter of their small group died down. Tense glances exchanged between them, all eventually landing on the intruder, all except her own.
Commotion continued sounding around them, their table the only to emit an unusually low amount of noise. "Anyone wanna tell me whats goin' on here?" The voice asked.
Swallowing, she realised she'd been intently staring into a cadleflame. She belived that maybe she'd have a chance at going unnoticed if she sat still enough.
"I asked you a question, doll."
She winced. That was his nickname for her. Fuck. She tore her gaze from the candle, snapping it to her friend across the table and gave her a sidelong glance that meant 'trouble' to which her friend nodded in agreement.
The low light that made the place cosy just moments before now only existed to muddle her thoughts. But, it could work in her favour. She carefully pushed her drink behind her elbow, hoping it wasn't too late to hide, and her friend followed her lead.
She turned toward the man, a cheap grin plaster on her face. "Hey . . . Buck," she spoke slowly, as if it'd somehow make him more agreeable.
"Hey there, princess," he grinned. Hat on his head. "Wanna explain this to me?" Pointing lazily to their gathering.
She shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant. Because admitting your wrong would confirm it's wrong. "Nothin special, we were just leavin', in fact."
A scoff blew past her ear. "The hell we are." The lap she sat on stiffened beneath her, tapping his feet–once, twice–in a show of impatience, and rocking her body in the process. The man then whispered in her ear. "Who is this guy anyway?"
She inclined her head, nervous eyes avoiding the big cowboy that stood imposing at the end of their table, and murmured a quiet reply over her shoulder. "No one. . . in particular." A lie, of course. "Let's just go."
The cowboy chuckled. "You're not leavin' with him, you're leavin' with me." That drawl could make the most steeled stumaches jittery with butterflies. Her friend must've felt it too by they way she squirmed in her seat.
She had to screw her eyes shut in a moment of contemplation. Why'd he have to be here tonight? Why'd they have to go to a bar he frequented?
She looked back at her friend with panic in her eyes. Boy, were they in for it. She could think of nothing else then to simply ask nicely, hoping it'd appeal. "Please, just go."
He smirked, putting a hand on his hips and showing a stern but playful disposition. "Your daddy know 'bout this?" He tipped his hat in their direction.
She pinned him with her eyes, narrowing them with independent annoyance. "Im my own woman, B-"
'What's it to you?' The guy beneath cut her off.
Bucky switched his attention to the guy, and she could feel him shrink a little under Bucky's gaze. "Hell, no need for that tone! I was just sittin' with my buds over there." He pointed to the group of men Buck came with, no doubt to put some pressure on the poor guy. From the looks of it, they'd been listening in on our conversation, and now waved to her, idly laughing at the situation, ready to jump in at any moment.
She shyly waved back, a tight smile on her lips.
"See, I just saw your little group havin' a grand ol' time over here and wanted to join you," Bucky laughed. "And when I noticed that fine woman in your lap, I thought I'd have a chat with her." He disguised it well, but she could hear the anger beneath his humoured exterior.
"You two know each other?" The guy asked, I'll at ease.
"Well enough." Bucky took a moment to look her over, a scan for any harm. But his eyes stuck on the short skirt and thin shirt. If possible, he looked even more bothered. "Wouldn't you say, sweetheart?" He glanced at her, and she could see the danger that lurked in his eyes. It began to dawn on her more and more how knee deep in trouble she was.
She cleared her throat, a nervous blush creeping up her cheeks. "Mhm," she hummed. It felt like he could see through her.
The guy's hand slunk to the bare skin of her thigh, attempting to mark his territory when seamingly he'd decided his dislike of the situation. "Huh, what's with the hat anyway, you some kind of sheriff?" He asked. But cut Bucky off as he was about to answer. "Either way," he waved his hand dismissively. "She's fine where she is. She can make her own decisions." And just like that, he'd successfully stolen the point she'd been trying to make.
She shook her head. Stupid, stupid boy.
Bucky's face hardened, any sign of humour gone from him. "I assure you, I dont need a sheriff's badge to take her home, It's within my right." He braced his hand against the table, leaning closer to them.
Her uterus roiled at that. 'take her home'
"Now, get that hand off of her, boy." He snarled, annoyance and authority resounding in his voice, promising a solution to the mans cocky demeanor. "She ain't yours to touch."
"Why?" The guy asked. "She yours?" His hand slid higher, squeezing her thigh, challenging the much broader man.
She exhaled, releasing a frustrated hum in early defeat, he'd doomed them both.
The cowboys jaw tensed. Silently, but undoubtedly steaming, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and pushed them above his elbows. The veins on his forearms pop from strain, knuckles turning white from his fists clenching. "Fella. . ." He began, calming his composure, then pointed two loose fingers at the girl in the mans lap. "Had she been mine, you'd be on the floor already. Now, that girl, ain't of drinkin' age, neither is she to be touched by a slimy bastard like yourself."
Fuck, so he did see the drink. She shook her head again, warning him. "Bucky. . ." A very bad attempt at dissuading him from doing whatever he was about to do. She could almosy feel the guy beneath her sink into the booth they were sitting in. Perhaps he had some sense after all.
Her friend grabbed her arm, loosely yanking on it as her anxious eyes flickered between the men in conflict. She herself sitting in the lap of the guy's friend, who was preparing to step in if necessary. "We should go before this gets ugly," her friend whispered.
"Respectfully, ma'am, she ain't going nowhere without me." The cowboy opposed, directing his attention to her friend.
No, no, no no. . . Dread filled her, he'd drive her straight home to her parents.
Bucky's eyes fell back on the guy, now shrunken and small under his gaze. "So. . . Stand up, 'n leave, boy," he spoke with the authority of a sheriff but stood with the confidence of an outlaw. "There's no need for altercations, I was enjoyin' my night. N' I don't wish that to change-"
"I'll call on the bouncer," the guy shot out, his face probably as pale as his overly white and fragile shirt, pointing to a man behind the cowboy. Her eyes followed the steps down from the seating area, and through the dimly lit dive where a big man stood posted by the door. The guy beneath her then glanced at his friend across from them, both extending curt nods to one another.
She wanted to wretch, he was acting a coward and standing up to Bucky with the threat of enlisting two other men to his side. She sighed loudly, making a point for him to hear as she eyed her friend. "Well, I sure know how to pick em'." And her friend, inspite of the commotion they found themselves in, covered her mouth in snicker.
Bucky narrowed his eyes in a second of silent fury, then answered with a laugh, not missing a beat. "You mean that bouncer?" He asked and turned around, calling a greeting to the bouncer, who in turn tipped his hat with a smile. The type of gesture that indicated a longstanding friendship. "We're well aquainted," Bucky grinned. "But im sure he'd love to sort this situation out."
If they had any sense at all, the two men would leave with what little dignity they had left and realise that they were already outnumbered inspite of being 2 to 2.
"Leave, girls," the guy easily dismissed them.
She gave him a pointed look, flashed her eyebrows, and jerked her head to the side in a 'you had it coming' motion, and then grabbed her friend's hand.
"Asshole," she sighed and steered them out of the booth, taking the cider in her other hand. Silly as she was, she thought she could simply leave, perhaps just slip by Bucky. But no, his strong hand grabbed her bicep as she passed by, and set his blues deep into her own. "Wait by the truck, I'll drive ya' home." He said, looking between the two girls.
"Fine . . . " She sighed.
"N' dont even think of running, cause I'll catch ya'," he warned, and she rolled her eyes inspite of the burning that settled in her core.
She tried to yank herself free, but he didn't let go. "What? You wanna hear a 'yes sir'?" She dared the words, teasing, as nervousity built in her gut.
His eyes searched hers, a slow grin spreading over his lips as he leaned closer, bending down to whisper in hear ear. "Dont get cocky with me, girl." And his hand began sliding downward, making her shiver, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his touch.
She swallowed, that tone, the hat? God. Her uterus purred, and in a sudden surge on confidence, she answered. "No, sir."
He grabbed the glass bottle from her hand and grinned, taking a sip. "Good, girl. Now go." And pointed to the door.
Would it be wrong to say she started salivating? His words, together with his lips making contact with the same surface she had? There was something about it, something that made her . . . Pulse.
Bucky whistled and his friend–the bouncer–came bounding up the steps, him along with the group of dad's and bucky's friends only a few steps behind.
The bouncer tipped his hat to her and her friend in passing, a smirk on his lips. Nice to know there was still some gentlemen in the world.
She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He was quite handsome too.
"Dont even think 'bout it," Bucky warned.
She rolled her eyes, and then they were finally on their way out, meeting Bucky's group of friends on the way, all nodding and greeting her. "Tell your daddy we missed him tonight." One said, and they all chuckled.
The girls hurried off, giggling. But anxiety lingered in the depths of her chest. Those men were rogue witnesses in all of this.
As she held the door open, voices raised behind them. She could see the crowd turning to look in Buckys direction, anf she herself followed their gazes. And found them just in time to see Bucky's knuckles collide with the jaw of the guy she'd spent her night on, sending him sprawling.
-
Plunging into the deep night, the cold swept over them. "He's hot, ain't he?"
She didn't want to answer, or simply didn't want to admit it and just gave her friend a look of understanding.
"God, I was ready to pounce on him the second he called me ma'am."
The girl understood that too.
-
After about ten minutes wait, Bucky emerged from the bar. Unscathed, apart form bloody knuckles and dark cloud around his head. Before even saying a thing, he'd already removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I only got one of them. Apologies, ma'am," he told her friend and opened the truck door for them both. "The truck'll warm you up."
"Thats ok, thank you," her friend answered, and the girls shared a knowing look. Their thoughts connecting in fiendish collectivity.
"Alright, get in. We'd better get goin'."
-
The ride was relatively quiet. We knew better than to anger him further. Anxiety was growing within her, though, she didnt wanna know what would happen when her friend was let off.
"Text me ok? I'll se ya' later." Her friend said, eyeing Bucky. She leaned her head through the open window of the truck. "But- let me know how that goes," she whispered. "And good luck." She raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her lips.
The girl rolled her yes. "Sure will." And with one last wave, they were off.
-
When there were only the two of them, they could say whatever they wanted with confidence. But so far, there'd only been a few sighs and breaths of shared irritation. Neither of them were particularly pleased with the situation.
But she wanted to be the first to speak. "I'll be 21 in a few days, Buck."
"Doesn't mean you have good judgement."
She bristled. "I'm not a little girl anymore!"
" 'Course not, I can tell by the way you dress. That what a grown woman look like to you?" He nodded to her body, barely covered apart from his thick jacket over her torso.
She pulled it closer around herself. "Like what exactly? What do I look like to you? A slut, a hooker?" Her face stung from embaressment. She felt like a child again, being berated for something she wasn't able to puzzle together by herself.
He clicked his tongue, jerking his head to the side. His patience was running thin. "Dont twist my words, doll. I'm callin you careless."
"That dont matter comin' from you, you're not my daddy." She knew the comment would get a rise out of him, because she knew he'd ment no ill intent, and she knew he cared for her. But she was mad, and so was he.
"No, n' you should thank fucking god he wasn't there to bust you. I was the better option, I can promise you that."
She exhaled a frustrated breath, turning her attention toward the windshield. Watching droplets of water paving their way over the condensation covered glass. "You weren't the only one to bust me, though, were you?" She spoke lowly, feeling like a coward for even asking. "The boys gonna say something?"
He gripped the steering wheel harder, his roughed up knuckles tearing. "I told em' I'd take care of it." It must've stung, but he took no notice. Other things pestered his mind.
Worry mixed in with all other emotions as her gaze drifted to his hands, and her mind immidetly moved into recovery mode. "So what's that mean, you gonna tattle on me now?"
He looked over at her, brows furrowed right beneath the rim of his hat. He couldnt begin to understand her. "That all you care about?"
"Right now? Well, yeah. I dont want a scolding."
"All grown and still daddy's little girl, worried about his opinions."
"And if I say yes, what then, girl?
"I dunno, m' gonna have to convince you not to."
"Like you convinced that guy to buy you beer, huh? What'd you do, flirt with him? Give him a handjob, suck him off? What did I miss before catching you?"
Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "You fucking asshole!" She shook from anger, she never expected words like that to be thrown at her. Especially not by him. But she'd get him back, there was no reason behind her actions now. "Maybe I would've, I even bet it would've worked if I'd asked you. Right? You would've just loved having your friends pretty daughter gettin' you off, huh!" She half shouted the last sentence, her chest heaving with effort and fury.
"That's enough." His tone was unforgiving, shooting a sense of reality back into her.
"I'll shut up if you answer the god damned question Buck, would it have worked?"
But Bucky didn't answer, his jaw clenched and unclenched, biting back his words. If she thought the silence had been bad before? It was deafening now.
After calming down again, her words hit her like a freight train. She always had a friend in Buck, but now she wasn't sure. The words that'd been thrown back and forth had set them off balance, their entire relationship was on unsteady ground. Something had been rewritten in the rules between them.
There'd always been attraction, but that wasn't something they ever spoke of. They'd always been close, good friends even. But now, something had changed. And it made her feel sick. She'd had an ally in him, but now, she wasn't so certain.
After a long whole of shutting her mouth out of stubbornness, the fate of her father finding out was worse, so she broke. "Please don't bring me home, Buck. Dad'll throw a fit." She tried to smile, to soften her voice. But it felt wrong.
After a moments uncertainty on her part, and strained breathing on his, he spoke. "Im not makin' the detour, you can sleep at mine, that was always the plan anyway." He admitted, sounding utterly tired.
And now she felt extremely guilty, eyes studying him as he gripped the steering wheel harder. Her gaze drifted over his body, his face, his hands. Stopping on the roughed up and bloody knuckles. He'd beaten that guy for her. Out of jealousy, or simply because he was protective?
She turned away, her chest feeling hollow and followed the birches and sprucetress as they flashed by the truck. Their colors and textures blending together as they met the dark consistent sky above them.
Bucky's house was dark, he only lit a few tablelamps when they arrived. It was better that way, she recognized herself here, within the gloom and the safety of his home. It was second to her own.
"I'll get your something more comfortable," he said, his eyes avoiding her clothes, her body as a whole and disappeared into his bedroom.
Was it because he thought they didn't fit her, or the opposite? Had he been mad at himself for being attracted to her?
She nodded slowly, calling out to him, "we should do something about that hand of yours."
"It's fine, I'm fine." He said, re-emerging, meeting her eyes. "Here," he handed here a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, most likely too big for her. "I'll take the couch, n' you can take my bed."
She nodded again, and headed into the bathroom.
Buckys t-shirt was longer on her than the skirt she'd worn, so she opted out of the shorts. Luckily findig a roll of gauze in the bathroom cabinet.
She emerged from the bathroom, a pair of panties and the oversized t-shirt the only things on her body. "You want something to-" Bucky paused as she rounded the corner, and suddenly she herself stopped short–caught off guard.
Bucky stared at her, and whatever he'd been about to say was lost the second he looked up. Bucky cleared his throat, and with the weight of a 15 year long friendship on his shoulders, his eyes stayed glued to hers.
Inwardly, she smiled and hoped the lowly lit livingroom couldn't reveal the blush on her cheeks. "Found some gauze," she held the roll up, indirectly asking for permission to bandage him.
He opened his mouth to decline, she could even see his head begin to shake in dismissal.
But she cut in before he had the chance. "Just let me help, you can be mad and still let me help."
His eyes hardened, but hesitantly, he nodded all the same. "Im fine, doll."
She raised her brows with skepticism and made her way toward him, the fabric of buckys shirt doing its best at showcasing her breats.
Bucky clenched his fist in an attempt to control himself, he winced, the wounds on his knuckles re-opening.
"Yeah," she scoffed. "Sure seems fine to me." And placed herself infront of him. From his position on the couch, he had to look up at her. At that, a flicker of heat blazed in her core. Oh, those eyes. His big, pleading eyes, all sad and hurt. Did he want her gone or want her in some other way?
She kneeled, settling between his thighs and grabbed his hand. "You don't got to be so stubborn all the time. . . Just wanna help you." She wrapped his hand carefully, enjoying every second of his corse skin over hers. Once done, he tried flexing his hand, and winced again. He still hurt, that much was clear, but was too proud to admit it. "Want me to kiss it better?" She joked, hoping it would lighten the mood. But he did that thing again, where he said nothing, and instead clenched his jaw, as if holding back a yes. So she took her chance.
Keeping their eyes locked, she brought his wrapped knuckles to her lips, and kissed them through the bandage once, then moving further up to kiss the softer skin of the back of his hand. Again, his eyes were pleading, and he moved the hand to cup her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. She took it as encouragement and kissed his palm, his wrist, his forearm. She stood up on her knees, kissing his bicep and reached for his shirt to pull him closer. She cupped his face and brought him inches from her own, nuzzling her nose against his.
Finally, when her lips reached for his, he pulled away. "Stop, stop," he nudged his forehead against hers. "We can't," he moved his lips away, cheek to cheek, he kissed the soft spot in front of her ear. "We can't."
"Cant, or wont?" She asked dully.
Those pleading eyes were back, begging her not to make him answer that question. She nodded absentmindedly, pulled into her thoughts. She stood up and moved away from him, his hand sliding down her arm and locking around her wrist, stopping her. "Dont leave."
"I'm comin' back."
After a few minutes of bustling in the kitchen, she returned to him. Sidling up next to him on the couch, her curled up legs lulling into his lap as she handed him a whiskey glass, then cradled her own. He whispered a thank you, looking into her eyes, and she whispered a you're welcome, looking into his. Then they sat like that for a while, quiet, unmoving. Bucky's hands finding their home on her legs, glas in one hand and her knee in the other. Somehow, this wasn't crossing a line for them, this was their normal, this was something not even her family questioned, this was them.
"Im sorry, doll." he said finally. "I never meant to imply-"
"It's ok, Buck." He opened his mouth to speak again, but she stopped him. "Really, It's fine. I'd rather not dwell on it."
Another moments silence passed between them, it was uncomfortable, but the unsaid lingered in the air like a thick wall between them, and hung over them with the threat of smothering. "We need to talk about us."
"I didn't like the way he was touchin' you," he said, choosing the topic before she had a chance at it. If he had to approach them, he would do it indirectly. "It didn't look like you were enjoyin' it."
Her eyebrows raised, "You would've punched him even if I were enjoying it." She commented sourley.
He squeezed her knee, gently rubbing circles into the skin beside. "He acted like he owned you," He turned his unscathed hand upside down, brushing his knuckles up and down her sensitive skin.
It all went straight to her head, veins throbbed with heat she didn't know she could feel. All brought out by a single touch of his hand.
But she wouldn't let off. "And what do you 'spouse beating him for it is?"
He stayed silent, his hand turned again, this time to grab her soft flesh, squeezing it with purpose. Much like the guy had done, but this felt different. This felt good, real good.
She swallowed, closing her eyes to focus on the words she needed to say. "What made you think you had the right? If not that I already belonged to–" she stopped, and their eyes met in a quick glance.
He let out a frustrated sigh. "I was only protectin' you." He defended, but it didn't quite sound like he believed the words himself. Nor did she. But if he wasn't ready to see it as it was, she wouldn't pressure him.
Instead, she laid her head on his shoulder. "It shouldn't be this hard."
He shook his head, the words seemingly struck a cord within him. For he sat insilence, pondering, a long while. "I would've said no, you know. And it would've killed me." She looked at him strangely, forgetting what he was referring to for a moment. "I would've said yes, if you hadn't felt forced to it, like it was a last resort to keep your secret."
Oh. . . "Had I wanted it, you'd said yes?" She stared unbelieving into the dark space infront of them.
"Nothin' could stand in my way." He slid his hand further up her thigh, fingers exploring the skin just beneath the hem of his/her shirt.
She sat up straight to look at him properly, she couldn't tell if he was serious. "You want me?"
"More than anything," his voice was breathless, barely a whisper. His index and long finger reaching further up, exploring more than he'd ever dared. "Cant even explain how many times I imagined you gettin' me off after you said it. How much I hated the thought, the sight of you with that guy, his hands all on you."
A pang of need shot through her. She put her whiskey down, and braced her hands against his chest. "But why tell me now, whats changed? Whats changed in this last hour?" His fingers rubbed the skin of her hips beneath her panties, sending shivers running over her body, shivers she'd only previously dreamed he'd be the cause of.
"You're right, it shouldn't be this hard. I'm makin' it too hard." His hand slid to her waist, still invisible to him, but no longer untouchable. Magnetically, they were pulled together, faces inching closer and closer to oneanother.
"And what about daddy?" It was becoming hard to focus, she wouldn't stop him for the world. Bow, they were close enough to feel the dampness of their breaths.
His hand continued exploring farthur up, fingertips finally reaching the soft, plush flesh below her breast. "Your daddy ain't here, is he?"
She began shaking her head in disbelief, lips brushing against eachother. "Dont promise something if you can't follow through."
His hand stopped, "I can, please," he begged, waiting for her go-ahead. "I can. . ."
His words vibrated against her skin, electrifying her body. "Fuck," she moaned, he's right there. Right, there, infront of her, for her. "Then do, please do, Buck."
And just like that, both hands were beneath her shirt, pulling her into his lips and squeezing her breasts.
Breathless moans filled the silent air, they tore at eachother greedily. Pulling and pushing eachothers bodies, fighting to get Bucky free of his clothes.
Snaking one arm behind her back, he guided her down onto cushions and placed himself above her. Still clothed by jeans, he rolled his hips against her core, grinding the rough fabric against her barely clothed clit. This, is what she had been craving. The exact static friction, the heat and movement between their bodies producing all the pleasure she needed. She moaned heavily, beacause still, she wanted more. Pulling her legs up and her panties off, she wordlessly signaled for him to do the rest.
With a groan, Bucky dove into her neck, kissing and sucking, all the while he unzipped his jeans and pulled them off together with his boxers. No time was wasted, he lined his member up with her core within a second, prodding and teasing at the opening. "Please, please, please." She sounded desperate, but fuck, she was. And feeling it was worse then sounding it.
"Yes ma'am." He said, and thrusted into her. A gasp escaped them in unisome. With the arm still around her waist, he pulled her into his hips, his body straining as he delved deeper inside her than she thought possible.
"Yes. . ." She whined. "More."
He kissed his way up her throat, their hips freed and collided into eachother with steady, strong thrusts, pushing her deeper into the cushions with every rut. Nothing could compare, he was unparalleled. Bucky, despite what he was already achieving, kissed his way up her neck, unfaltering in his duty.
Her hands found his face, cupping it and bringing him back to her, and their lips met again. "Taste so sweet," he murmured, sinking his tongue into her. The salt of her skin mixing with her saliva. "Want all of you."
She smiled against him. "Harder."
He did as ordered, keeping his pace and adding pressure. "Yeah," he moaned. "Being so good for me, girl." And pulled her deeper onto his member. Her breaths grew rapid and shallow, fingers clawing at his back as she had nowhere to go, all pleasure directed straight into her. "Close, so fucking close," she cried.
"Good," he chuckled breathely against her skin, and that was a she needed. Her back arched in euphoria, and stars stung her eyelids, speckling the darkness. "Good job, sweetheart. Just breathe," he continued thrusting into her, softly, easing her through the orgasm. "Good girl. Well done. . ." He whispered, kissing her jaw. The stars began fading and she regained her senses, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Beautiful, girl." He moaned, still rutting into her, chasing his own high while wiping the tears from her face. Her body began tingling, on the vege of breaking down.
"Dont know how much more I can take, Buck." She kissed his cheek, focusing on the skill of his lips.
"Almost there, almost. . ." he moaned, increasing his pace. The slickness of her core created a sickening sound together with the slapping of their skin. It was heavenly, but she could feel the pressure building within her again.
"Mmmh, m' gonna cum again, please buck, dont stop."
He didn't, he continued, intent on coming together with her. He bit into her lip, causing her to yelp and yield the hold on his face and licked a trail down her chest and breast, then taking it into his mouth. Sucking and slurping in an insane rythm with the slapping. "Yes, yes! Fuck, Bucky." she called out, and Bucky pulled out of her.
Coming only a second after, his seed spilling over her abdomen. "I love you, I love you." He moaned with faltering breaths, bracing himself on his forearms on either side of her, kissing every part of skin that he could reach.
Holy shit? "I love you too." She smiled lazily, drunk off of her two consequent orgasms. Laying her hand on her stumache, she felt his sticky substance coat her fingers.
His eyebrows knit together in guilt. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I'll get a towel-"
She grabbed his bicep and shook her head, locking her eyes onto his as she brought the fingers to her lips and licked them off, popping them in her mouth to suck them clean.
Bucky stared, unable to form words.
"Cat got your tongue, cowboy?" She asked, a coy smile on her glistenting lips.
"Fuck," he awed breathlessly. "I just love you." He whispered, lowering himself onto her once again, this time striking his tongue into her core.
-
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povlnfour · 1 year ago
Text
ੈ✩‧₊˚ .JPG (JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT) (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader
summary: lando’s childhood sweetheart has long since been the subject of his photography account. fans just can’t wait to see one specific post from the couple in the future
*face claim for y/n: edie rose (but please imagine her as you see fit!)
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,602 others
lando.jpg life lately🧡
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user1 me checking y/n’s hand for a ring everytime lando posts her
user5 FELT i got so excited when i saw one here then realised it was her right hand
user2 SO REAL nearly 8 years im expecting it soon

daniel3.jpg one of you looks super graceful w the food
landonorris gtfo
yourusername (affectionate)**
user3 SUCH A CUTIE
user3 y/n i mean xo
user4 MOM AND DAD
user5 JPG MR .JPG. JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT!!!!!
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando.jpg my muse and me
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user5 lando i BEG just ask the woman to marry you
user6 his museđŸ„čđŸ„čđŸ„č if someone called me that i would be a puddle
user1 oh she so has stops to pet random dogs energy
yourusername i love you my darling
user4 the third photo *faints*
user7 JPG!!!
user5 finally my legacy is catching on
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 103,447 others
yourusername lando got .jpg-ed of his own for a change
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user3 the caption sounds
.
yourusername @/user no comment
user8 MISS Y/N THAT FIRST PHOTO IS ILLEGAL
user5 i just gasped out loud at work in front of customers
user2 Y/N KNOWS WHAT WE WANT TO SEE
user1 i know we’re freaking over the first pic but his smile in the second one i’m so in love. how do you cope with him looking at you like that?
yourusername i quite simply don’tđŸ©·
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando.jpg holidays as captured by us
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user5 a whole fancy holiday to greece and stILL NO RING????
user7 mr. norris the next photo u post better be a damn proposal or god help me
charles_leclerc good decision to put her first, that way people don’t run away
user6 CHARLES😭😭😭
user1 JPGGGGG
user3 look at that GLOW she’s so main character (you’re cute too lando i guess)
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername baby is away but still sending deliveries💐
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user7 flowers but never a ring
 i could treat you better baby
landonorris đŸ€”
user3 ^^^ WHAT THEY SAID
oscarpiastri is this what you had to ask lewis for help with @/landonorris
landonorris international shipping isn’t my thing ok
user4 best boyfriend ever
user7 he COULD be the best husband ever, butđŸ€­
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris happy birthday babygirl. so glad u lived long enough to utter the words ‘get a picture of my boots dickhead they’re brighter than ur future’
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user7 so no bday proposal either😐
user5 SIR YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME
landonorris guys stop being mean i’m only small
danielricciardo he’s joking bullying turns him on
user1 lando you have to expect the marriage jokes in ur comments now
carlossainz55 feliz cumpleaños y/n!đŸ„ł
yourusername gracĂ­as, mi amigođŸ„č
user7 ‘my friend’ TEARS IN MY EYES SHES THE GRID BESTIE
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername days in england are my fave bc it gave us my fav f1 driver (lewis hamilton)
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user4 Y/N/N U ARE SO REAL AHAHAHA
charles_leclerc i’m offended
yourusername ur my next favourite sweetie
landonorris IM NOT EVEN SECOND?
lewishamilton i expect you in a merc cap next race now
yourusername done king
lewishamilton visit soonđŸ–€
landonorris absolutely not
user8 lando won’t propose so lewis said BET
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando.jpg night at the opera
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user3 AT THE OPERA? AND STILL NO
? JPG!!!
user5 JPG!!! JPG JPG
user1 JPG
user9 JPG!
user2 JPG JPG JPG SAY IT WITH ME
user6 JPG JPG JPG
user7 JPG!!!!!!!!!
landonorris why are you all shouting a photo type in my comments
landonorris oh
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando.jpg singapore on film
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alex_albon JPG!!!
landonorris you have 3 seconds to leave my page
user8 IM IN TEARS OVER ALEX
user5 IT CAUGHT ON‌
user1 definitely no ringâ˜č
yourusername reading your comments is like reading the latest tabloid
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 105,602 others
yourusername what do you mean we’ve been together for eight whole years??? what do you mean we’re not 15, young, dumb and in love anymore? i’d take another 8 in a heartbeat🧡
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landonorris eh we’re still dumb and in love, just maybe not the first one. love you baby🧡
fernandoalo_official you are still a child.
user4 HAPPY 8 YEARS TO MY FAVOURITE COUPLEâ˜čâ˜čâ˜č
user5 all the behind the scenes of him taking photos :(
user7 she really is his muse huh
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris sometimes when i look at you i think it’s only been 8 seconds with how much i learn about you each day. hard to believe it’s been 8 years, and that i love you more each day. no one else i’d want to spend the rest of my life with. i know you’re just settling until you can win over lewis (or charles, or george, or oscar, or alex, or carlos) but i’m feeling pretty lucky it’s me you chose to do that with.
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lewishamilton mate you just gotta get on my level
oscarpiastri good taste, y/n
landonorris NOT YOU TOO
yourusername thank you bff
user8 me waiting patiently for the anniversary proposal post????
user1 wishful thinking oomf
danielricciardo all jokes aside pal, happy you’ve managed to keep her around for this long despite being you. big love for you bothđŸ–€
landonorris HOW was that all jokes aside
yourusername believe it or not, it’s always you. happy anniversary baby🧡
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 107,821 others
yourusername lando caught the behind the scenes of my selfie taking and let me tell u the distance between me n him is important
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user2 this was not the post i was expecting but i’ll still take it
user5 i was hoping we'd get a different post but you still look good ma'am
user8 the fact he’s always there to take photos of you >> girl you have landed on your FEET
yourusername tell me about it. luckiest girl in the WORLD
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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lando.jpg y/n by me, me by me, me by y/n
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user4 so it’s official 
 no proposal?
user5 jeez man JPG.
user3 jpg!!!
user1 just propose goddamniT
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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yourusername i don’t even have the ability to be mean to you this time. my forever person. thank you for putting up with me. this feels like a dream i cannot believe i am a fiancĂ©e. THE EASIEST YES IVE EVER SAID (and you once asked me if i wanted to snooze the alarm)
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user3 OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD AM I DREAMING
user7 WHAT THE JAJHDBSVJA
lewishamilton finally! show me the ring this weekend (congratulations)
yourusername facetiming u rn
user5 IM???? MY LEGACY HAS ENDED AND I COULDNT BE HAPPIER
carlossainz55 couldn't be happier for the both of you
alex_albon LILY AND I ARE SCREAMING CONGRATS TO OUR FAVOURITE COUPLE
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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landonorris took my time but got there eventually. ‘just propose goddamnit’ WELL LOOK AT ME NOW! gonna have myself a wife. i love you baby, thanks for screaming yes immediately so i didn’t have to wait to hear your answer
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landonorris @/user5 i hope ur happy now
user5 VERY.
charles_leclerc can't believe you pulled it off mate, congrats!
oscarpiastri sad i can't scream JPG at you in the garage anymore but happy for the both of you!
yourusername my oscar :( cannot wait to squeeze you this weekend
oscarpiastri @/yourusername i better be a bridesmaid
landonorris why not a groomsman????
oscarpiastri @/landonorris i like her more
mclaren wedding (mclaren's version)
----
a/n:
hello hello, i have had so much fun writing and creating this so i hope you like it!!!!
was going to wait to post but after the hell that was quali i thought hey why not now
thank you all for reading! as always, comments likes and messages are appreciated and whatnotđŸ«¶ take care of yourselves this week!!! the temperature is starting to drop in france so i am wrapped up warm and i hope you’re looking after yourself wherever you are
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie
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astraystayyh · 1 year ago
Text
SHUTTTT UP HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
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đ˜„đ—Œđ—żđ—±đ˜€ăƒ»779 / đ—œđ—źđ—¶đ—żđ—¶đ—»đ—Žăƒ»hyunjin x gn!reader / 𝗮đ—Čđ—»đ—żđ—Č(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, intentional lowercase / đ—źđ˜‚đ˜đ—”đ—Œđ—ż'𝘀 đ—»đ—Œđ˜đ—Č・inspired by That ig post and my own recent visit to tokyo. happy birthday, @astraystayyh; consider this my official proposal (˘⌣˘ )♡
when you slip out the hotel’s double doors, you’re stunned to find the world has gone completely dark.
just a few hours ago, you were oohing and ahhing at the colorful chaos of tokyo as the van trudged slowly along the jammed freeway. now, blue has been overtaken by obsidian, and the illuminated city sprawls beneath an invisible horizon like stars plucked from the empty sky.
“the sun sets early here, huh?” hyunjin hums as he appears at your side. his dark hair is scented and silky from his shower, his broad shoulders outlined by the denim trench coat he’s thrown over a black turtleneck—the most beautiful boy on earth, and he’s yours.
“i was j-just thinking that,” you answer through chattering teeth, and your boyfriend’s chuckle hits the air in the form of a silver cloud.
“i told you you’d need this.”
he drapes a puffer jacket around you; his arm follows, draws you near. you slot into his side perfectly.
“better?”
your eyes lock with hyunjin’s, then flicker downwards. the doormen are busy loading a luggage cart. the foyer is empty for the most part. empty enough. 
“better,” you respond, moments before you lose yourself in the warm pressure of his lips.
soft hair tickles your cheeks like butterfly wings. hyunjin’s been tempted to cut it recently, complaining that it’s getting too long. you’ve been rejecting the notion vehemently, and this is one of many reasons why. your fingers skim over the base of his neck, and the air that hyunjin sucks through his teeth whistles between your parted mouth.
“cold,” he whines. 
a giggle escapes your throat. “sorry.”
recently, your and hyunjin’s schedules have been clashing so awfully that you really only see each other before and after bed. both of you are well accustomed to these cycles of mutual scarcity by now; it is enough, during such times, just falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice, or waking to kisses scattered across every inch of exposed skin and a quiet, melancholy “see you tonight, angel.”
but then, you miraculously stumble upon a free weekend that coincides with the last leg of hyunjin’s tour. he’s on the phone with staff within seconds of hearing the news; your boarding pass arrives in your inbox later that night; now, here you are, in japan on a friday night, burrowed in your boyfriend’s arms, your sights set on a tiny udon joint in the back alleys of shinjuku.
going out in public with hyunjin feels like you’re playing poker. dispatch is your opponent and the deck is always rigged. ninety-nine percent of the time, you prefer to circumvent the game entirely. 
you’re all in, tonight.
“it’s a twenty-seven minute walk.” dark locks fall into hyunjin’s face as he looks at the navigation app on his phone. “is that okay?”
“you tell me. you’re the one who rehearsed for three hours today." you reach for the loose strands; tuck them behind the cuff of his ear. “maybe we should just take the subway.”
“but i wanna explore the city with you.”
“and we can, after your concerts.”
“i only have you for two days. let’s start now.”
the funny look you give him says, we have an apartment together, idiot, and he hastens to add—
“okay, i only have you here for two days. it’s different.”
that, you can’t argue with. hyunjin takes your lack of a retort as his cue to begin your journey, dragging the both of you onto the sidewalk. 
“i will not be the one answering to chan when you oversleep tomorrow,” you mumble.
his hand stretches out where it rests on your shoulder, silently asking for yours. you oblige before you even process his request, your fingers sliding thoughtlessly in the spaces between his.
“deal.” hyunjin presses a swift kiss to your temple, your eye squinting shut at the contact.
if you’re being honest, you hardly remember the walk to the restaurant. all the bright lights are beautiful but get old quickly, eventually blurring into a forgettable, fluorescent mass.
what you do remember is hyunjin’s excited gasp when he recognizes the anime being advertised on a distant billboard. hyunjin’s flawless japanese as he helps an old couple with directions, and the proud smile he wears afterward (he’s been practicing). hyunjin’s fingers pulling you close by the loops of your jeans, his mouth slanting over yours for the ninth, tenth time with no justification except for you’re just so pretty. hyunjin’s hair fluttering over his eyes when he tilts his head at the camera, the resulting picture so maddeningly beautiful that it becomes your new wallpaper right away.
what you do remember from that evening, and what you would remember in every iteration of your life, is hyunjin.
(you remember the udon, too. it was very good.)
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𝘁𝗼𝗮đ—čđ—¶đ˜€đ˜ (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn
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© đ—łđ—Œđ—żđ—čđ—¶đ˜… (est. 090323) · đ—čđ—¶đ—žđ—Čđ—± đ˜đ—”đ—¶đ˜€ đ˜„đ—Œđ—żđ—ž? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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keerysfreckles · 8 months ago
Text
high definition — OP81 (smau)
pairing: oscar piastri x norris!fem!reader
summary: y/n tends to favor oscar over her own brother
warnings: none!
a/n: first smau.. send me requests if you want more 😁
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ ïœĄ ⋆ à­šà­§ ˚
yourusername just posted !
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 507,440 others
yourusername found a new hiking buddy:) tagged: oscarpiastri
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user1 i need to go hiking with them asap
user2 omg oscar???
landonorris why do you keep stealing my teammate đŸ€š
yourusername not my fault he's cooler than you đŸ€·â€â™€ïž
danielricciardo AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE
yourusername OI! OI! OI!
danielricciardo oscarpiastri you've taught her well
oscarpiastri i try 😅
user3 him taking a picture of her taking a picture is so personal to me
user4 she's wearing oscars mclaren beanie in the last one DHMU...
yourusername added to their story !
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[podium boy! oscarpiastri]
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landonorris where's my podium post
bffusername GIRL THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT YOU
logansargeant and you still say your just friends..
oscarpiastri just posted !
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liked by yourusername, mclaren and 924,066 others
oscarpiastri great way to end the weekend tagged: yourusername
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user1 DOUBLE MCLAREN PODIUM ‌‌
user2 our papayas did it đŸ„čđŸ„č
user3 finally the mclaren strategy made sense
yourusername can i come to every race now
oscarpiastri duh you're my good luck charm 🧡
landonorris what is y/n's face in that pic 😭
yourusername I DIDN'T THINK YOUR CAR WOULD BE THAT LOUD
user4 his good luck charm???? hello????
mclaren first double podium of many
yourusername just posted !
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yourusername turned 21 in the paddock today đŸ§ĄđŸ’đŸ«¶đŸ»đŸŽ‚đŸđŸŒŸđŸš
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user1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!!!!!!
mclaren orange looks good on you
yourusername ikr! 😆
user2 OSCARS HAT I REPEAT OSCARS HAT
user3 i just know mclaren got a lil cake for her â˜čâ˜čâ˜čâ˜č
oscarpiastri i'm not getting that hat back anytime soon aren't i
yourusername nope! đŸ€—
user4 I KNEW IT WAS OSCARS
landonorris wow you'll take osc's hat but not mine 😒
yourusername well yes!
bffusername so glad the koala shipped in time 🙏
alexalbon missed opportunity to tag oscar as the koala
oscarpiastri just posted !
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oscarpiastri my birthday girl 🧡
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user1 HIS birthday girl.. oh im ending it all
user2 HARD LAUNCH???????????
landonorris i see who your favorite norris is 😔😔
oscarpiastri it took you this long to notice it's not you?
yourusername HAHA OSC LIKES ME BETTER đŸ«”đŸ€Ł
user3 sorry max and kelly, y/n and oscar are my new fav f1 couple
charlesleclerc so this is why you weren't at team dinner tonight
oscarpiastri sorry i have priorities đŸ€·â€â™‚ïž
user4 Y/NOSCAR IM SO UP đŸ™ŒđŸ»đŸ™ŒđŸ»
landonorris added to their story !
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[i'm such a third wheel 💔 oscarpiastri yourusername]
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yourusername you know you could've stayed home right
oscarpiastri but you're the best third wheel
carlossainz lando i thought we talked about this, you ALWAYS stay home when they ask if you want to go with them
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marlenesluv · 5 months ago
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lando + his pasta loving girlfriend
note: gonna be honest, i am craving pasta and have no motivation to order some so i’m putting that hunger into this headcannon, lol. (posting this from a few nights ago
alright, i guess i really like pasta. i was a little tipsy too, so mind the misspells if there are any i didn’t catch.)
type: head-cannon, a little smau
headcannon masterlist here -> click here!
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
warnings: none!
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Û” lando knew that when you two started dating that you loved pasta. you ordered it on the first date, second date, third date. you would have ordered it on the fourth date, but that date was the one where you made dinner. and you made
pasta.
Û” some of his friends, mainly max, thought this was a tiny bit odd, but who was he to judge?
Û” lando was one of the pickiest eaters on this planet.
Û” and it seems that his girlfriend, no, soulmate was too.
Û” lando was infamous for being a picky eater.
Û” sushi? no. vegetables? only because he had to. if he had it his way, it’d be pizza, pasta, and ice cream 24/7.
Û” you were the same way. some healthy food here and there of course, but pasta was truly the best.
Û” after you had been going to the mclaren paddock for around six months, the kitchen staff knew your preference.
Û” they knew you loved pasta. you always ate whatever they made though and never complained.
Û” but lando was loud. very loud.
Û” so if you came over to the table he, oscar, and lily were at eating, he would ask what you got. you told him and he would loudly say “no pasta today!? where is my girlfriend??”
Û” lily would laugh and oscar would roll his eyes and laugh a little.
Û” at this point, a few of the workers would notice your wide eyes and red face from lando embarrassing you.
Û” lando meant no harm, really.
Û” he just didn’t realize how loud he was.
Û” from that moment on, one of the kind older ladies working at mclaren would make you pasta.
Û” everytime you came in, she had a different type of pasta waiting for you.
Û” which really just warmed your heart.
Û” even for your birthday that lando hosted for you, there was pasta. lots of pasta.
Û” he invited his f1 friends, and of course carlos homemade some pasta (so did yuki).
Û” charles bought you a pasta plushie that alexandra had found and knew you had to have.
Û” overall
lots of pasta.
Û” your fans that literally loved your pasta posts as well.
Û” almost every photo dump you had, there was pasta.
Û” and lando was very supportive of this.
Û” hell, he was jealous of how much pasta you got to eat.
Û” his trainer had to restrict his pasta intake, only allowed for special occasions.
.ăƒ»ă€‚.ăƒ»ă‚œâœ­ăƒ».ăƒ»âœ«ăƒ»ă‚œăƒ»ă€‚.
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liked by: landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 327,148 others
y/n.user: the love of my life and landođŸâ€ïž
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landonorris: wow. i am extremely offended but not really surprised
y/n.user: i’m sorry, i’m kidding. i love you more than pasta
landonorris: how much more????
y/n.user: 
..like, 2% more
landonorris: i’ll take it
f1wags: yeah, she’s our iconic pasta momđŸ«¶
user2: my favorite couple đŸ„čđŸ„čđŸ„č
mclarenfans48: the picture of lando and y/n hugging đŸ«  they’re the cutest
pastarecipes: goddess of pasta
y/n.user: i’m not sure if i’m more honored to be called a goddess, or that you think i’m the goddess of PASTA
pastarecipes: omggg i didnt expect you to respond AH ily
user7: that pasta looks DELICIOUS
oscarpiastri: you got your pasta fix of the day then?
y/n.user: ya😎
danielricciardo: so she won’t be cranky when we see them tonight ✊
y/n.user: that comment is gonna cost you a bowl of pasta 💅
danielricciardo: DAMNIT
.ăƒ»ă€‚.ăƒ»ă‚œâœ­ăƒ».ăƒ»âœ«ăƒ»ă‚œăƒ»ă€‚.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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maxivstappen · 3 months ago
Note
congrats on 1k again mel đŸ€ i'm so proud of u!!
i'm requesting for ur event: the lyrics "you make me wanna fall in love" from "juno" by sabrina, and the driver is oscar piastri
ౚৎ MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ‧˚. OP81
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ౚৎ PART OF MY 1K EVENT & my short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౚৎ
summary — you said it was casual, but you both knew it wasn’t. he liked to tell people that he’s certainly not in love with you, so maybe you just had to make him fall in love.
a/n — thank you so much for your constant support mlđŸ„č im not too happy with how this turned out, but i hope you enjoy reading anyway <3 based on the song ‚juno’ by sab!
warnings — kinda smutty?? jealous!oscar, making out, very suggestive, hints of angst, english isn’t my first language, not proofread
It really wasn’t your fault.
You decided to keep it casual as to not get him into any drama, so that people know his focus was keen on racing - becoming a world champion and whatnot - and also for your sake, because the hate, if you weren’t used to it, really could become unbearable, and the last thing Oscar wanted was for you to have to deal with any of that, you were just way too precious to him for that. So the decision was made. No strings attached.
Stupid, right? No strings attached is something to settle on before being all the way into it. Because at that point of your relationship, there was no way to keep it casual anymore. The only way was to take a few things that had been said two or three times too often back. To leave it all behind and really only do those things for ‚urgent needs‘ . No more spending the night or cooking together or meeting up without the friend group or sneaking away from said friend group just so he could finally rip the dress you had been teasing him with all night right off of you. But he had other plans, he seemed to just keep going with it. Telling you how much he missed you every time he was back from the long weekends, repeating the same three words over and over again as he makes his way down your thighs, kissing every clothed and unclothed spot he could reach from under you.
The first time it happened it was simply an accident, at least that’s what you told everyone. At least that’s what you told yourselves. But your touch and perfume still lingered even after a week, so the next time you saw each other at a birthday party of one of your mutual friends, Oscar couldn’t keep his hands off you either. Confessions of being attracted were spoken out loud and the only thing keeping you from taking it farther was nothing more than a mental holdback. You were scared of the public. He was scared to see you hurt because of that.
After a weekend during summer break spent together you asked him to finally decide on where to go on from this. He blurted out that he’s not in love, so there was no reason for things to get complicated. Your breath hitched. Casual hookups was what he said. Friends with benefits, you chuckled, seemingly angreeing with him as to not make this situation any weirder, even if it hurt just a tiny bit. But he was right. You had a different idea of a perfect life than he had. Racing was his passion, being in the spotlight was part of the sport, and you couldn’t even handle having to hold presentations in class because you hated being the center of attention. You two were just too different.
So yes. It is his fault! Because if he’s really, after all these lovey-dovey moment shared, still not in love — like you admittedly were — then he should stop acting like he did. Why would he get you flowers every few weeks? Why would he gift you a whole vacation with your best friend including hotel, trips and things a sane person wouldn’t even ask for for your birthday, and the rest of your friends would only get a normal birthday card and occasionally whatever small thing they had wished for? If you were really just casual, then why did he treat you as if none of this was ever just casual at all? Why did he treat you like his girlfriend if he so confidently stated that he’s not in love with you just months ago?
He couldn’t expect you not to want him to fall for you too if he was the one who made you fall for him in the first place. As if the “casual” sex wasn’t enough already, he just had to do the most romantic shit for you as to not let you get over him at all. He wanted to play with your head, he made it obvious. Too many mixed signs, too many actions done but too little words said. Lucky for you and for him, two can play the game.
If he was sooo sure he’s not in love with you, which he just had to be, maybe you just had to make him realize his loss if he ever lost you. You had to make sure he knew that you were desired also by men who weren’t him, and since it‘s his fault you fell for him in the first place, he should be the one who has to face he consequences of not loving you back.
In other words, a little jealousy clearly wouldn’t hurt him.
You were getting ready in the bathroom of your apartment together with your best friend, “juno“ by Sabrina Carpenter playing in the background while you gossiped about whatever came to mind — including Oscar and you. It was a secret to everybody else, but not to her. She was the one you cried to after Oscar told you he didn’t have feelings for you.
You finished up your makeup with some lipgloss, and once you were final,y content with your accessories and outfits, you made your way over to your friend’s, jack’s, birthday. Everybody was there, including Oscar. And Lando. His only ally and his biggest rival. If that didn’t make him crack, then nothing would, but you decided to try, at least. Lando and you got along alright already when you had only just met, and he was the first man to point out that Oscar and you aren’t just friends, right?
So when you suddenly put your hand on his arm, slowly rubbing up and down his biceps, he was confused at first, and then caught up on your quick nod in Oscar‘s direction while holding eye contact with him. Lando didn’t mean to do him any harm, but as much as he loved his teammate, he would never be one to turn down an opportunity to mess with him like this, especially not if he knew it would, at last, make Oscar snap so he didn‘t have to listen to his hopeless whining about his relationship with you being oh so complicated. Just ball up and confess, man.
It was innocent at first. Just simple touches, your hand on his chest for just a tiny second because you needed something to steady yourself on as your reached behind him to grab your drink from the small table the couch stood in front of, or his arm around your waist when you all stood next to each other to take a round of shots. Lando was certainly amused and your best friend was winking and giggling at you the whole night, seemingly loving your plan, because Oscar was definitely reacting.
His blood was boiling and he wanted to punch that smug look right off of Lando‘s face. How dare he touch you when he knew that Oscar, his own teammate, loved you?
Oscar thought it was better like this. Playing pretend instead of facing the truth, and he was pretty damn good at doing so. He was sure you believed him when he said that he doesn‘t want your relationship to include anything other than moments of lust, he thought it was easier that way. He thought it would make things less complicated, thought he could live his life without having to put you in any danger, live his life without needing you by his side every second of his damned life if he just put some boundaries. Surprise! It only made things worse, plus apparently, guys seemed to think you were available now, thought they could have you like only he can. And it made him fucking furious.
So when you stood up to pour yourself another drink in the kitchen, he followed, of course not before shooting the other driver for McLaren a death glare. Lando sighed and leanded back in his seat, happy to see your man finally making a real move. He hoped so, at least. Oscar closed the door after entering. It was only you two now.
“Fancy another beer?“ You asked calmly, but the feeling in your stomach was far from calm. This could end in complete rejection, maybe he could see right through your façade and thought you were childish for doing this? But how could you not?! Oscar himself made you do it with his mix of signs every damn time you saw each other!
He shook his head.
The tension between you was palpable as he watched your every move, back turned to him. You felt awkward, but tried to ignore it. The light was dim, and you could still feel the bass vibrating through the floor and the walls coming from the speakers in the living room. Was music this loud even allowed at this hour?
You finished pouring yourself some more champagne when you saw him walking over to you in the reflection of the glass cupboard in front of you. You sucked in a breath, not daring to say anything, feeling slightly hazy from the alcohol you‘ve drunken in the past few hours already. His cologne became starker as he stepped closer to you, eyes closed as you let the familiar smell of him take over you completely. You only opened them again once you realized he caged you between himself and the counter, pressing himself against your behind. He started softly kissing down your neck behind your ear, almost tickling you with how light his lips felt against your hot skin. You wanted this, you wanted him. But his touch wasn’t nearly enough, you wanted all of him, and not just his body. Every yet so little interaction you had during the evening left you with butterflies going crazy in your tummy, yet he never seemed affected, not until Lando came into view. Did he really only want your body and not more?
“What were you doing with him, y/n?”
Nothing but a moan left your mouth as he gently bit into your skin, sucking on your sweet spot as you subconsciously rubbed up against him. You didn’t even want to reply, you just wanted him to keep caressing your skin with his mouth. “Tell me what you were doing with Lando, huh, baby? What were you thinking?”
“Oscar I-“
“Keep talking or I’ll stop,” he whispered as he made his way down your back and then back up your shoulder, kissing and mouthing at every spot. Thankfully your best friend had convinced you to wear the backless top, you thought.
You huffed. This felt so humiliating, but you couldn’t keep going like this, not when he makes you feel like this and then leaves like nothing ever happened. You lived a lie and it was time to stop.
“I was trying to make you jealous so that you would finally stop and do something!”
Oscar’s furrowed his eyebrows and stopped in his tracks, hands still on you. What were you talking about The tension came crashing down onto your body once again, his doing not distracting you anymore. You seemed to want to have this conversation, and Oscar could easily put some of his lust away in moments like these. You didn’t get a reply, the cue for you to turn around and face him. You were still caged between him and the counter, his hands steady on either side of you now as he leaned down to look at you. you couldn’t focus like this, not with him so close to you and with the alcohol running through your body like blood. You looked up at him with doe eyes, prettily batting your lashes even if your mascara was slightly smudged already.
“Stop what? Talk to me, please. I didn’t like seeing you with him,” he looked concerned. Worried even, worried about what he might have done wrong. He wanted to be with you, keep you as his, so why would you want to stop being exactly that?
“Why don‘t you love me?“ You whispered, tears forming in your eyes. You hated it, but it was inevitable. The confrontation was overwhelming you anyway, and being under the influence managed to make it a lot worse. Your hands were all shaky and so was your every breath as you anticipated his reaction, expecting rejection but still hoping for more.
“I- What? Why would you think that?“
“Maybe because you literally said so?“
“Uhm, okay fair point. Listen y/n,“ he sighed, and you could practically hear your heartbeat throbbing inside your chest. He thought for a second, but didn‘t say a thing. Instead, he grabbed your face and kissed you like never before, he kissed you with more than just passion, he kissed you with love. his fingers wiped away a tear that had rolled down your face, kissing and holding you as gently as he could. “Don‘t cry on me, y/n, please don‘t,“ he begged as he now kissed down your cleavage, leaving lovebites on your collarbones. “Was just being stupid, didn‘t wanna hurt you baby, thought long distance is too hard,“ he said something, anything to make you understand that the only reason he didn’t confess was because he was scared of his life not being compatible with yours, and not because he didn’t love you.
You smiled into the kiss once he reached your lips again. You‘d have to talk about it more tomorrow morning after taking some aspirin, you knew, after all, that you‘d go back home with him. It wasn‘t enough to make it official, you weren‘t boyfriend and girlfriend, but you finally had the guarantee that he felt the same way, that he loved you just like you did him.
Oscar swore himself at that exact moment, when he felt you smiling while his lips were dancing against yours, that he would never make you feel so unloved again. It wasn’t his intention in the first place, but seeing your beautiful eyes filled with tears because of him made his heart shatter, and he never wants to see you like that again, not if he was the reason for your pain. And even though you did have to make him realize through making him jealous, you certainly didn’t have to make him fall in love with you.
Because he already was.
ౚৎ general taglist / sns taglist ::
@norrisdriver / @1655clean
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ellecdc · 20 days ago
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Um I’m just thinking about pregnant!reader giving one of the hockey boys or poly!marauders a little hockey jersey to tell them she’s pregnant 😭đŸ„č
OMG SHUT UP this was so cute (thank you for the prompt!)
hockey player!Sirius Black x fem!reader who has a surprise for him [690 words]
CW: afab!reader, pregnancy, pregnancy announcement
Now, you may not believe him, but Sirius swears to all the hockey gods that he tried his best to control the expression that took over his face.
The two of you had gotten home from Sirius’ birthday dinner - which one of the team ‘dads’ (who not coincidentally billeted Sirius when he first joined the team) insisted on throwing, regardless of the fact that the team was already together for his actual birthday four days ago while they were on the road - and you hardly had your jacket off before you were telling him to go sit down in the living room so you could bring his present to him.
He wasn’t proud of the fact that he found himself a little disappointed you didn’t walk back into the living room stark naked, or perhaps wearing a sexy little number. But no matter; your eyes were bright and crinkled in the corner, your smile was shy yet excited and hopeful, and you were wearing his team hoodie that came down to nearly your knees, and he thought you had never looked more beautiful.
“Happy birthday, Siri.” You offered quietly as you handed him a square, thin package - the box appeared to be the same shape as one you’d purchase a pie in, but it was incredibly light.
He smiled at you before unwrapping the paper and ribbon from the box and lifting the lid from it.
Sirius recognized the colours instantly, of course he did. They were Lion’s colours; Gryffindor red and gold with black detailing.
What confused him, though, is that the garment folded before him seemed to be one of his own jerseys.
A tiny version of his jersey; the home jersey, deep red with yellow lettering which read BLACK above his number 12, clearly outlined and defined by black piping.
But if you noticed the confusion on Sirius’ face, you didn’t show it.
“This is
cute, babe.” Sirius offered cautiously, letting out a nervous laugh as he pinched the shoulders of the tiny jersey between his thumb and finger and held it up in front of him - it really was no bigger than a dinner plate.
But no sooner had the jersey fully unfurled did Sirius hear something clunk back down into the box.
“Was there something inside it?” He asked aloud as he pulled the jersey aside, and Sirius froze. “Is-”
Sitting in a bed of decorative tissue was a plastic stick with a sealed cap on the end, and a pink plus sign on the other.
And underneath it was images from a sonogram.
“Baby?” Sirius whispered, and when he could finally manage to tear his gaze away from the clues sitting in his lap, he saw you standing with your hands over your mouth and your eyes swimming with tears.
“Baby? Is this- are you
are we pregnant?”
You released a breath you’d apparently been holding that sounded very close to a sob as you nodded emphatically.
“Baby!” Sirius cheered, all but tossing your gift aside as he stood from the couch and made for you - enveloping you in a near bone crushing hug that took you right off your feet.
“What? How? How long? When did you find out? Oh my god.” He rapid fired in between pressing kisses to various parts of your face.
“I took the test just before you left for your two week road trip, but it was confirmed by the doctor three days ago.” You explained as you laughed through your tears - happy tears.
“Oh my god.” Sirius repeated as he put you back down on your feet, though he allowed no distance between you two as he rested his forehead against yours and smoothed his hands up and down your back. “Oh my god, oh my god. I can’t believe this. We’re gonna have a baby?”
You let out a wet chuckle and pressed a kiss to his lips that saw him chasing yours for two more. “We’re going to have a baby.” You confirmed.
Sirius shook his head in awe, kissing the dampness from your eyelashes before tucking your head under his chin.
“We’re going to have a baby.” He repeated.
“Happy birthday, Sirius.”
Best. Birthday. Ever.
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spatialwave · 7 days ago
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Hello my love. It’s my 24th birthday today and only one of my friends remembered so I was hoping for a lil pick me up.
How about ~
luring your lover back to bed with kisses & kisses while sitting in your lovers lap
With our dear Viktor?
I love your work đŸ„čđŸ€Ž
OH MY GOODNESS! Happiest of birthdays to you, love!!! I’m so sorry that you’re feeling down on your special day. I hope this adds a bit of sparkle to your mood! ❀
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pairing: viktor x gender-neutral!reader word count: 712 tags: mdni! sfw, fluffy, kissing, super sweet, viktor is a bad boyfriend but makes it up to you, takes place between s1 act 1 and act 2. notes: ask came from this prompt!
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“You’re working too hard,” you pouted, talking through a hard candy that rolled around your tongue–sucked on long enough that you could bite into it and swallow down the sweet strawberry flavour. You sat atop Viktor’s desk as he studied one of the hextech crystals. The rigid orb rolling between his fingers.
It was the early days of their research, and he had taken a steep nosedive into the work, allowing it to consume him. So much that you hadn’t had so much as a kiss from him in days. 
“Not hard enough,” he retorted, sighing as he placed the crystal carefully onto velvet fabric to keep it stable. The last thing he needed was to replicate the explosion that had destroyed Jayce’s apartment.
He looked back down to a tome he borrowed from Jayce, fingers brushing against the paper as he read over histories of runes. Yet again, ignoring you.
“Do you know that it’s been exactly sixty-two hours since you last kissed me, and thirteen hours since you even touched me?” You whined, kicking your legs out as they dangled freely.
Viktor flickered his gaze to you, raising a defensive eyebrow, “it hasn’t been that long.”
“It has! I’ve been keeping track,” you were adamant, sitting upright again with a puffed chest, “why would I lie?”
He blinked a few times, gathering his bearings – at a loss for words, guilt rising up the back of his throat. He’d never been anything less than a great partner to you, and here he was ignoring you shamelessly. 
Viktor sighed, shifting to turn his body toward you and reaching over, so his hand could rest over your thigh as you sat on his desk, “I’m sorry.”
The touch on your thigh kick-started a heat inside you, your heart thumping against your ribs. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrugged coyly and moved from the table to shift into his lap. The sudden movement caused the table to jerk slightly, and Viktor panicked, stilling your hips with his hands as he looked at the crystal—making sure it remained undisturbed.
You looked down at him, jutting your bottom lip out. Your arms strung lazily around his neck.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, a dusting of pink colouring his pale cheeks.
You rolled your eyes playful as your hands lifted to his hair, brushing through the brunette strands. You sighed dramatically, “it’s okay, I guess.”
That brought a smile to his lips, nimble fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt, “all is forgiven?” He asked, leaning toward you.
“Mostly,” you breathed, closing the remaining distance as you two shared a long-awaited kiss. You hummed against his lips, savouring the touch you had been craving for so long. Viktor’s own impatience hadn’t gone unnoticed, feeling the way he rolled his hips against yours and how his nails scraped at your skin.
It sparked an idea.
After your tongue licked at his bottom lip invitingly, you pulled back completely. Satisfied at the way Viktor watched you with his big, gold eyes. Silently, you slid from his lap, and he chased your lips. You’d gotten him up out of his chair, his hands reaching for you as he moaned into your mouth, before you broke the kiss for a second time.
“What are you doing?” He groaned as you stepped back, huffing.
You giggled, chewing on your bottom lip as you reached for his hand, acting as his support as you pulled him for a third kiss. Four hands explored each other’s bodies as you led him backward, slowly and carefully, as your kisses brought him all the way to the bedroom–careful with his limp.
Viktor had been so lost in tasting the strawberry on your tongue that he gasped when you spun him around and pushed him back onto the bed. He blinked up at you, lips parted and shuddering, as you crawled back over and straddled his lap.
“Do you still like hextech more than me?” You asked coyly, hands slowly unbuttoning his academy-issued vest.
Viktor smirked, shifting to lean up on his elbows. “Do you want a serious answer?”
“I hate you,” you whined, but he was quick to laugh and pull you down into a kiss that rightly shut you up.
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arminsumi · 1 year ago
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First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?
Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!
LET ME MARRY YOU
↳ GOJO さべる + fem!reader
The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."
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2k
Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy đŸ„č💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything
Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open
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The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.
What if something happens to you?
He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.
There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.
That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;
I want to marry you.
I'm going to marry you.
Please let me be your husband one day.
As if he's trying to manifest it.
Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.
It's October 11th.
Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.
He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.
He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.
He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.
He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.
But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.
He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.
Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.
Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.
The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.
"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.
He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.
His earthly goddess.
The purpose of his benevolent actions.
He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.
It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.
Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."
He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.
It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.
"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"
"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.
It's a stark bright day.
Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.
You open it.
He looks at you, and you look at him.
"Hi."
"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"
Your voice fills his heart with life.
"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."
"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."
Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.
There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.
"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.
"I'll always find my way home."
A silence ensues after he says this.
"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."
"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."
"... me too."
"... why did you leave?"
He stares at you.
"... I was scared of you being in danger."
He gulps.
"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."
Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...
"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."
"... yeah, duh."
He smiles meekly.
It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.
He hesitates. He contemplates.
"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"
"Of course. What is it?"
He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.
Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.
But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.
Let him just...
"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."
"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"
"Can I?"
"... what?"
"Can I please?"
"... huh??"
"Can I marry you, please?"
He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.
Can he? Will you let him?
It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.
"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.
He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."
"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."
You make him laugh. "Yeah..."
"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"
"No."
"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."
You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.
"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."
"You're damn right..."
"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."
"Satoru."
"Yes?"
His heart throbs. He looks at you.
"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."
"Oh."
You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.
So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.
"I'm sorry."
Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.
"My angel..."
When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.
He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.
Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.
Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.
"...Satoru?"
"Marry me."
You chuckle again.
"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.
He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.
"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."
On the verge of saying your name.
He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.
"Will you think about it?"
"I will."
There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.
"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."
"That took you, like, ten seconds."
You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"
He's silent.
"I have no idea."
"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.
His heart flutters at 'future husband'.
"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."
The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.
In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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