#he can even be held in one hand!!! very tiny man material

[demigod-of-the-agni]

"You're here eating SOUP?! I just fought my way through the stinkiest, dirtiest, coldest giants to find you, and you are here eating soup. Behen, I am going to scream."

Marvel Voices Infinity Comic #77

[hoseoksluna]

BERRIES | jjk ft. jhs

pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x oc (feat. hobi)

genre: angst, tiny fluff, itty bitty smut

word count: 6.0k

summary: your ex-boyfriend shouldn't have this much influence over you when you have a new man, should he?

playlist: berries / pinterest board: berries

warnings: depression, daddy issues, use of titles, oc has dirty thoughts about hobi (do we blame her? no, we do not), slowburn, implied sex, dd/lg, soft argument

note: this took every last bit of my strength, so i had to split it up. i'm sorry if this is a piece of absolute shit, but as you all know work this week squeezed everything out of me and i'm so exhausted that i'm not even sure if this is worth posting. i struggled a lot with this fic, rewrote it multiple times, and i'm so very happy that it's finished. i hope you all enjoy the start of a new series, this time a slowburn that will have more parts, more depth and everything. and surprise! it features hobi, my beautiful husband. it was my first time writing about him and he's missing so terribly from my soul that it was one of the reasons why i struggled so much. i wish it weren't like this for my first time with him, but oh well. i hope you, guys, enjoy. please, let me know what you think. <3

The satiny material of your cream-colored dress must be the one and the same that these sculptures had worn centuries ago. You can almost imagine the softness kissing your fingerprint instead of the cool stone as you graze your touch against each and every immortalized angel of loveliness. You’re stirred by a sense of poignancy—that you’re alive and they’re not and yet you believe that as you stare at them, feel what they’ve been through the more you study their eternal expressions, they stare right back with their eternally tender eyes, see right through you, through your heart, know its contents. You wish you were in their place instead; you’re sure they would’ve handled your cursed life better than you can. 

Or you wish you were as stony as them. 

But you’re an opulent fountain of emotions that are anything but gentle. 

This thought distracts your attention from the way your feet ache in the boots you chose to wear to impress your date. Thigh high, with black knee socks underneath to keep you warm from the cruel breath of autumn. Hoseok is carrying your trenchcoat as you’re adventuring on your own in this art museum and that’s the only sliver of kindness he’s shown you this very morning. 

The only compliment you’ve received from him was a nonverbal one. An up and down look with a smirk creeping in when he picked you up at your apartment. No hug, no caress. You felt so small—and awkward a little bit, comparison rushing in. Not in the form of a wave of the sea, but in the form of a snake, its thick body tightening around your throat. An ouroboros, which made you regret going out on a date so soon. 

It hasn’t even been a month since you’ve become a single girl again, learning how to walk in this new, harsh reality, your legs wobbly, weak and too, too heavy. And the lack of comfortable physical contact made you see your ex-boyfriend before your own eyes, the memory of how he acted at the beginning of your first date. The way he picked you up into his arms due to his excitement of being with you and carried you inside his car. He put on your seatbelt for you. Drove carefully. Held your hand as he led you to the restaurant he picked for you. Even during the walk after while you talked about the stars and you couldn’t help but tell him that his eyes were filled with them. 

Hoseok did neither of those things. He had asked you where you wanted to go and you’ve wanted to visit the museum for quite a while, so you suggested it. He had agreed, no sort of enthusiasm evident in his voice muffled by the phone call. And you’ve barely exchanged a few words during the half an hour of your time spent here, let alone led an entire conversation. You should’ve heeded the warning when it was right in front of you.

Hoseok is certainly not of the artistic kind. 

Looks quite bored as you turn your head to look at him, your coat dangling from his arm so terribly devastatingly. And when you focus your gaze to your right, where a dark wine-tinged room, with golden frames of paintings, awaits you and where you’ve longed to go the moment you stepped a foot inside this grand building, a distaste pools on your tongue, your former aesthetic elation ruined. 

You’re surprised he didn’t stand you up. 

You don’t even want to take pictures. As a matter of fact, you want to go home. But you can’t. Can’t ravage your only possibility and means of forgetting the person you still love. Can’t really encourage Hoseok to leave your life, not when you’re the type of person that doesn’t find love upon every corner you turn to. 

This is your only chance. And he’s the only man you’ll conceivably have in your life for quite some time. 

You walk up to him and take your coat from his arm. His eyes deepen on you, in fact they haven’t strayed from you during the entire half an hour—and that bothers you. If your ex-boyfriend were here, he’d share the beauty with you. Make you laugh so hard that the sound would echo around the vast room. Perhaps give life to the sculptures and they would laugh along, too. 

Your heart hangs heavy in your chest, sinks ever so slowly and you can’t bear it. You need to leave. Take this date elsewhere, hope for betterment to grace you—to have but a fragment of pity for you. 

“You hungry?” you ask, softly, willing your voice to be smooth and not divulge the brassy storm of your emotions to him. Hoseok doesn’t know anything about you. Doesn’t know that you yearn for another person to be standing in his place. “Did you have breakfast?” 

Hoseok needed the date to be in the early hours. Said he had a meeting in the afternoon. Would be working on a project with his colleagues until the late hours. You didn’t mind, not really, in fact it animated you—brought briskness into the sadness of your headspace, knowing it was rainy and cloudy outside. Perfect weather for the influence of the arts. That is, until you realized that it was a grave mistake to take a businessman to a museum; that you dragged a heathen to a church.

Hoseok shifts his weight on each foot, his shoulders swaying with the movement, and he licks his lip, bringing your attention to them. Small, but full—you wonder what they would feel like against yours. Wonder if he’d be gentle with you or violent. If he’d stroke your hair or grip it; fondle the ribbon you’re wearing in a half up do or untie it, entirely. Use it for another means like your ex-boyfriend invariably did. 

Your distaste grows, but not for Hoseok. It grows like poison ivy for yourself and your tendency to compare him with someone he doesn’t deserve to be juxtaposed with. 

Guilt blossoms in your sternum, the leaves of that poison ivy. Pretty to the eye, but deadly for the body. Just like you. You’re too baneful for such a pretty man like Hoseok. You’d do well to respect his boundaries and abstain from physical contact, prevent red rashes from marring his skin.

“I haven’t eaten yet,” Hoseok says, just as softly, rubbing the nape of his neck, the black cloth of his dress shirt taut over his arms—a pretty sight, one that could be hanging in the wine-tinged room for generations to gawk upon. “Truth be told, I was too nervous.” 

A brief smile adorns his slender face and you melt, the poison ivy scratching you raw. Your heart picks up its rhythm, flattery clothing it in a protective layer and you pout, your hand itching to graze his forearm. But a hidden fight rises in you, an army of darkness ready with their bows, their arrows shooting thoughts into your brain about how little you’re worthy of such kindness and favor. 

Though when Hoseok blushes upon seeing your tender expression, it gives you some sort of strength to stand tall against those demons. Despite the fact you don’t understand it, you don’t question it either and you cling to it, sensing its freedom speaking to you in a foreign language. A yearning forms in you, one you haven’t yet had the possibility of meeting. A yearning to learn its syntax and vocabulary. And when you give in to it, the poison ivy in you lessens. 

This is good. 

You reciprocate his smile and you coo. Find it the easiest thing in the world. And because you’re so grateful for what he’s unwittingly done for you, you decide to share your truth with him as well. 

“Let’s go eat, then.” Your eyes crinkle and you’d bet light flickers in them, for your whole body does, you sense it. A warm light enlarges on its axis, taking a hold of the heaviness you felt. “There’s no need to be nervous. It’s what I told myself when I was getting ready. My stomach hurt and believe it or not when I told myself these words, it stopped.” 

Hoseok chuckles, his arm slapping back to his side, but you notice that it trembles. You’re so touched by it that you become angry at yourself, self-hatred clashing with that warmth. You misinterpreted him so unfairly and what’s more, you wallowed in your brokenness and your heartbreak, when Hoseok had been nervous and timid the whole time, which now sheds light on his lack of closeness with you. 

You’re despicable. And the awareness of it transforms into that snake tightening around your throat again. Only this time, you welcome it. Long for it to take your life. It’s the least you deserve. 

But you’re not letting yourself loll in the bed of your horrendous emotions. No, you lift your hand and you caress his arm, the one that quakes. And amidst the sepulchral attention of the sculptures, you’re a witness to that trembling’s halt, to Hoseok’s visible tranquility, and you want to weep. 

You know if you were to gaze at the eternal angels of beauty, you’d see stony tears appear on their ivory cheeks, too. 

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok mumbles and you curl your brows in confusion, not knowing what he’s apologizing for. Hoseok opens his mouth again to speak, but he pauses, sloshing the words in his mouth. You feel so bad that a craving to better yourself overcomes your entire being. “I’m sorry for being such a buzzkill. If you wanna explore this place more, we can. I saw you looking at the room with the paintings.” 

He tilts his head in the direction of the aforementioned room, but you care very little about it as of now. You’d much rather take this elsewhere and get to know him better, so you don’t make the mistake of distorting him again. You’re not very keen on forcing a heathen to pray, either, however you do appreciate his willingness and attentiveness. Carry those things into your jarred heart, fold them inside its chambers, the edge pieces to the puzzle of his personality. 

“Don’t worry,” you murmur, taking it one step further and hooking your arm around his. Hoseok sighs, his shyness slowly breaking apart as he clasps his hand over yours and if you could dissolve any more, now would be the perfect time for it. His hold is strong and steady—and it creates something stable within you, an orchard of fruit trees, pink and green, and bushes of berries, a safe place you want to rest in; lay down your brokenness and woes in. “You’re good. No need to apologize.”

His blush deepens at the reassurance and he smiles, softly, running his thumb over your knuckles. And the gratefulness you feel due to the fact he’s touching you, it is the rain that freshens up the apples and cherries hanging on the twigs of those trees, guiding it into full bloom. You focus on it—focus on the thick, cottony material of his dress shirt as you rub his forearm in response. You want to acknowledge yourself with the unspoken parts of him like these, remember them, allow them to heal you and crack the plaster over your heart. 

And there you hear it. The crumble as Hoseok leans in and presses a chaste peck onto your cheek, lingering there for a second more, inhaling your sandalwood scent. And his smile widens as he looks down on you at such close proximity, erasing your touch-starvation once and for all. It’s your turn to blush now and you feel an inkling to shy away from his gaze, but you stifle it back. Curl your mouth in a smile—your heart thumping louder amidst the orchard now that it has more space to function in. 

“No, I really want to apologize. It’s been too long since I’ve been on a date and you’re so stunning that I’ve forgotten my game, so I can’t help but to be nervous. I don’t know how to act around you,” he says, mutedly, punctuating his sentence with a breathy laugh, glimmering eyes flicking to the lining of your silky neckline just below your collarbones, tracing the miniature cherub hung up on your dainty necklace plated in gold, motionless against your dress. Your own heart grows wings and momentum in its place, fluttering in haste to move closer to him. He bores his gaze back into yours, letting it stay there. “Art isn’t really my thing, but you look like you belong here. Look like all those angels around.” He nods at your necklace. “And like that angel, too. Can I take a picture of you?”

You’re so taken aback that you don’t have time to respond. Pulling out his phone from the pocket of his dress pants, he withdraws from you and gently ushers you in the direction of the closest angel, your trenchcoat slung over his arm again, vibrating with life. He positions you how he likes—right in front of the immense sculpture, your head turned slightly to the side so the wisps of your white ribbon in your hair can be seen. His touch grounds you, tells your bloodstream, your organs that everything is okay, repeats it a little louder to your headspace—all before war could be declared with you. 

Hoseok, the prince of peace. 

The prince that crouches to the dirty floor so the vastness of the angel’s wings can fit in the shot. Yours, too. You think you’ve grown a pair of your own, alongside your heart, now that your shared honesty brought you closer.

You struggle to hold back your sob, to stop the corners of your mouth from rounding, your chin from quivering—all because the lightness that you sense wrapping over your heart is one you haven’t felt in a really long time. You feel taken care of, feel like you can depend on him, and while you can’t explain why you feel that way, you consider that such an immense blessing, regardless. So much that your eyes wet for the camera, but you don’t mind. Let that be captured in the memory—the mending that occurred. And let that be safe with him. 

You smile and the flash goes off, which causes you to burst into giggles, your liquid softness forgotten, and run to him, your palm covering his phone camera so nobody sees his defiance. You look around to make sure no employee is in sight before you face him, cheeks warm, heart warm, wings warm, body warm. Hoseok quirks a brow, confused, gaping up at you from his position, and you take a deep breath to halt another inrush of laughter.

“You can’t take pictures with flash here. They’ll throw us out,” you whisper-shout, your giggles escaping your tightened mouth. His own forms into an ‘O’, fingers clicking on his screen, presumably turning off the automatic flash.

“I didn’t know,” he whisper-shouts back, mouth stretched in a lopsided grin. “I haven’t been here since I was a kid.” You shake your head, shoulders still shaking with the last of your giggles. He probably didn’t have a phone back then, which makes it even funnier. He inspects his settings again to make sure it’s all good before his hand finds your thigh and pushes you back. “Okay, I turned it off. Go back to the angel.” 

It’s your whole body that flutters now, not just your heart, both pairs of wings unfurling, and when you retrace your steps, you still feel the heat of his touch—half on the fabric of your dress, half on your bare skin. And as you smile more naturally for the picture this time, greed kisses your core. A greed for more of his touch; on the same place as well as elsewhere. 

A twinkle of where he could possibly touch you flashes before your eyes and it’s all your focal point consists of when you turn your head to your former position the way he wanted it and he praises you for it: “Good, good.” 

Your muscles clench as you imagine his hand going underneath the fabric, exploring what’s hidden in there for him. The words of praise he would utter at the discovery of your private flesh. Your ears must be red. Such a twist of events you didn’t expect. A meek form of demureness creeps in, enveloping you in a feminine sensuality and you’ve missed feeling this way. Missed feeling pretty and alluring for yourself first, then for a man second. Missed being the center of your attention like this, of someone else’s as well. 

You’ve always loved it. Perhaps due to the fact that you very seldom have it—so when it does come, it changes your life and you attach your being to it. 

You didn’t anticipate going home with Hoseok, especially not on the first date. But because you’re being fed, you don’t really care about being proper. You want to go home with him and so you simply shall. 

Can’t let the opportunity run away from you. 

And so you arch your back a little bit more, look up at the angel and give her your silent thanks, your hair flowing around your form when you flick your gaze back to Hoseok to see him concentrated on the task, his smooth features gravely serious. Your stomach flips. 

“Now from the back,” he instructs without lifting his eyes off of the screen of his phone. “Just like you were.” 

A breath lodges in your throat, the double meaning burning the poison ivy down to ashes and you swallow it, let your stomach acid consume it until there’s nothing left of it, until all that your body carries is nothing but the lightness and the seductiveness that Hoseok gracefully gave you, the comfortable heft of the wings that grew because of him. 

It’s those things that drive forth your following words with the world’s ease, unabashedly. 

“You want it from the back?” 

Hoseok’s mouth parts and the look he exchanges with you should chill your blood, but it doesn’t. If anything, it boils it. The heat that wafts off it pools in your core before ascending to your imaginary wings, leaving them dripping with sweat and the dew of titillation. Hoseok’s eyes narrow, shadowed by the furrow of his brows, encouraging it all the more. 

There is it—the heady energy shift, permeated with the sweetest of berry juices, stemming from lust, from the orchard he planted in you. Strengthening your allure, steeling you from head to toe. You submit to it; kneel into it, notionally. Your elation raises from the dead—and you grin. 

“Behave.”

A pulse in your private parts. The lengthening of your expression of delight. Your wings, your muscles clench and the same winged creatures soar to your heart from your stomach, squeezing the beating flesh. You swivel on your heels, the hem of your dress rippling, exposing more of your tender skin, the ribbon in your hair following suit. 

Hoseok sucks in a breath. Your cheeks ache from the joy’s strain and it is utterly exhilarating to you. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Hoseok coos his approval and you can’t take it anymore. You let him take a few more pictures as you move around, dancing in your own way, running your fingers through your hair, trying to distract yourself from the throbbing between your legs, but to no avail. And when you sigh and face him head-on, Hoseok is already on his feet, walking towards you with a reappearing lopsided grin that forces the butterflies gnawing at your heart to go absolutely rampant. 

You’re done for. You need to take him home. You’re not even curious about how the pictures came out—you can always look at them later. 

Hoseok seems to know about your neediness because when he crosses the distance, he cups your chin. Makes you look up at him. And his smirk deepens while your heart increases in size, wings flitting at the special attention. 

“Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs, caressing your skin with his thumb. Your eyes round and the heat you feel is sweltering underneath your clothes. All the more reason for him to take them off. “The pictures are great. Wanna see?” 

Biting your lip, you shake your head, briefly. “What I want is to make you breakfast,” you say, mirroring his tone, hoping he gets the hint. 

Hoseok waggles your chin, humming. “Oh, yeah?” 

Fuck. If his scolding already didn’t make you submissive, then his response and his actions have. You wet your mouth, teeth instinctively sinking back in, and only nod. Hoseok opens your coat and covers your shoulders in its warmth, pressing the cotton twill fabric against your sternum. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

A fond sound pours out of him and the fact that he likes to be called by that title heightens the pulse between your legs. “Let’s go.” 

He leads you towards the exit with a hand on the small of your back and you’re so happy to be touched at last that with a final look at the angels, you send out your silent love and goodbye to them, thank them one last time for the kindness you received because of them, one that you so ferociously sought after and longed for. 

They seem to bow to you, happy to be of service, and you smile so profoundly that you feel as though nothing could stain your joy and mar it all over again. They wouldn’t allow that to happen—and a tendril of hope burst open within you like sunlight tearing through clouds, one that is suffused with the notion that Hoseok would stand in the way, side by side with those sculptures, too.

And he does when you swivel your head back and catch a glance of someone you know. 

A piercing on the side of his brow, unchanged from the last time you saw him. Round eyes, murky. Ashen complexion that used to bloom with vibrant tints. Full, soft-toned mouth, ever so stuck in that pout, one you used to kiss until it bruised. 

Your bloodstream doesn’t cease its flow. Not until you notice the person beside him. 

A girl with an aura so cataclysmic that it forces you to stop dead in your tracks. An August night storm personified, obnoxiously sweet-smelling of the past summer that you spent with her companion. The hollow, funereal scent of a meadow doused in petrichor—she walks with it, her hands intertwined before her in a clasp. 

You wished for him to be in Hoseok’s place so ardently that he appeared. And now that you contemplate him, the lack of distance between him and the girl, it makes you regret that you ever did. 

Because, unknowingly, it drenched you in gasoline and his presence is a lighter, hers the hand that has flicked it to life and now serenely holds it against your skin, waiting until the flames, little by little, devour you whole. 

And the job is finished when both of their heads whirl, meeting your livid stare. 

And Jungkook, too, stops dead in his tracks. 

“Do you know him?” Hoseok asks and you find it strange that you can hear him when all you can see is red. 

And the red fades into the matching black shirt that Jungkook is wearing, into his bluntly pained mien; into the strands of his date’s short hair and her scrunched up brows as she regards you with a strong aversion that makes you scoff. And the same red weakens when Hoseok turns your attention to him by playing with the ends of your ribbon, grazing them before twirling them around his finger. 

A breath of fresh air, he is. 

You don’t know what to say. Don’t know whether to tell him the truth or come up with something that won’t devastate what you have currently going on with him. But if you lie to him, you’ll stumble into a dead end you’d much rather stay clear of. You’d see it before your eyes once you do take him home and it would ruin the newness he brought up with you, preventing it from taking root in you. 

Devastation awaits you in either case. Both you and Hoseok. 

Cursed, your life is. Doomed, absolutely fucking doomed. 

What would the angels do in your place? 

Seeking their wisdom behind you, it is not in them that you find your answer, but in the passing pair dressed in black, making their way over to the dark-wined room. He’s pretending he didn’t see you at all, walking away from you without saying a word, despite the fact you broke up on good terms. 

You worshiped him in this very building almost on your knees and he dismissed you as if you meant nothing to him, caring for the feelings of his date, instead. 

Peculiarly, the sentiments Hoseok installed in you, both of the passionate and the soft kind, turn that fire blue and it becomes the driving force that guides you to act without a single thought spared. 

“Yeah, I do know him. Do you mind if I quickly say hi to him?”

The corner of Hoseok’s mouth curls and he caresses your hair down your back one last time.  “Go, I’ll get the car ready.” 

Such a confident, strong man, broken out of the confines of his former timidness. Not possessive, nor insecure—letting you do what you want. Respectful of your personal life that doesn’t include him just yet. And for that very reason it will—as soon as you’re done putting out that fire in you. 

It’s not only you that has gone through a change upon this hour and it strikes your awe, enough for you to lean in and peck his cheek, just like he did to you. 

Hoseok makes a sound of endearment, pivots on his feet to leave you to it, but you grab a hold of his hand. Have a need to say something to him. 

His brows rise at the attention and you brush your hand across his knuckles, mimicking his previous actions, having learned them, intimately. 

“Thank you, Hoseok. Really,” you say with a smile that could magnetically pull the sunlight out of its hiding place behind the clouds and bathe this bizarre room in light. You squeeze his hand. 

A swirl of shyness flushes his face in rose pink and he shakes his head. “No need to thank me,” he assures, reciprocating the smile. “And call me Hobi. You can save Hoseok for later.” 

Your jaw falls open and Hoseok chuckles, warmly, deepening the pulse between your legs until a wet spot adorns your panties beneath your dress, one that you look forward to showing him at the aforementioned time. 

He pivots again and you watch his tall, lean figure leave. Back muscles clothed in black, straining against the fabric. He must’ve undergone his military service. 

A beautiful man. You can’t wait to taste him. Taste that manliness. 

Loosening a breath, you turn around to search for your ex-boyfriend. And much to your dismay, he’s appreciating the angel sculpture—the very one and only Hoseok took your pictures with. Fire licks at your every nerve ending, but then you notice that his date is nowhere in sight. 

A perfect opportunity to do what you want to do. 

Pulling out your phone out of your little purse, you look for his name in the history of your calls and tap on it, placing the device against your ear, your hoop earrings clashing against the screen. You watch him palm his pocket as the vibration disturbs his aesthetic pleasure and he casts a long glance at your name filling up his screen. Doesn’t comb his gaze through his surroundings. No, he seems to be transfixed by the twist of events and when he swipes his finger to accept the call, his stare begins to dig a hole into the dirty, marble floor. 

Doesn’t say anything. 

You scoff, fury grazing your fire. “You’re pretending not to know me? That’s low.” His pout rounds and the tip of his shoe traces the edges of the ruination he’s caused. Remains silent. “Who’s your little girlfriend? I thought you’d introduce me. Where is she, anyways?” 

It’s him who scoffs now and he flicks his gaze towards the face of the angel. It’s like he’s staring right at you. “You shouldn’t be doing this, little one.” 

The too familiar pet name brings agony to your heart and you would break had Hoseok not given you his strength, if the dependability of him waiting for you outside wasn’t real. And the allure and the lightness in you, perhaps the very love of the sculptures encompassing you—all of those things only vivify your solidity. You have no reason to break, you’re safe. 

“Well, I think you should be a good Daddy and meet me right there in the red room,” you seethe, glad for the anger to be lingering in you, for the utterance of the title leaving you unscathed. You’re just giving him a taste of his own poison, nothing else. 

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and sighs, clenching his jaw. “Don’t call me that.” 

You chuckle, enlivened by the provocation. “I can do whatever I want. Besides, you started it.” 

He grits his teeth. “Not when you’re talking to me, you can’t.” 

Your fire rises in overwhelming waves, your curt response ready on your tongue, but Jungkook hangs up, making you shut your mouth, instantly. 

You hate him for that; hate him with the entirety of your being. 

What has happened to your friendship? To the sweet, weeping Jungkook who broke up with you because he didn’t want to cause you any more pain with the state of his mental health, who has been dealing with depression for so long that he’s reached a point of no return, a lightless room with no windows, where all he saw was you, and he didn’t want you to be a victim of such unhealthy attachment. So he bid you goodbye, hugged you until you couldn’t breathe and let you go. 

Three weeks ago. 

You haven’t seen him or heard from him since until now. Until you’ve found someone else and moved on with your life. That’s just your luck. 

And now the person you’re gazing at, it’s not the same one that wept against your chest. Yes, he might have been strict with you during intimate times, teased you with his fatherliness during the day even—but that invariably was imbued with the mellowness of love. 

Try as you may while his words ring in your headspace, you cannot unearth any trace of that same mellowness in it. Only bitterness, coldness and a profound darkness. 

Jungkook pockets his phone and, leaving both of his hands there, sunk deeply, he walks over to the wine-tinged room, his frown obscuring the place in gloom. Murky clouds, personified. A perfect match to the storm of his companion. Bile lodges inside your throat. 

You follow after him, your feet aching terribly in your boots, but it serves as some kind of alleviation to the tautness of your emotions, of your confusion, disgust and offence. Makes you feel better—because once you see Jungkook ogling a certain painting of a woman beaming at him softly, dressed in flowers, blues and greens as the redness akin to your fire burns in her background, the agony tries to slither its way inside your heart, but fails.

You’re a locked orchard. 

Jungkook senses your presence and he swivels, biting the inside of his cheek, pierced brow quirking. There’s a strain to his shoulders and his Adam’s apple bobbles as he takes in your appearance. The creaminess of your short, silky dress, the darker shade of the same color of your trenchcoat slung loosely over your shoulders, exposing your brown, leather, high-heeled boots, your matching purse clutched in both of your hands as you strut towards him. Calm, all of a sudden. It does nothing to you, nothing whatsoever—your heart momentarily attached to Hoseok.

“I thought you’d already left,” he murmurs, tipping up his chin. Begins to sway back and forth on the balls of his feet, the carmine hues of the room swathing him in a deeper shade of darkness. “Isn’t your boyfriend waiting for you?” 

You don’t bother to correct him. It’s none of his business who Hobi is to you, not when he treated you like a stranger.

“We were about to leave, but then I saw your actions,” you say, quite monotonously, your calmness as disturbing as it is triumphant. You yourself even wonder at it. “What the fuck was that?” 

A smirk. “Glad to know I still have some kind of effect on you.” 

You scrunch up your brows, distaste once again pooling in your mouth. “Trust me, I would’ve done this with anyone I know. You’re not special.” 

His smirk widens. “So, you’re not jealous?” He rubs the side of his jaw, staring at you, intently, and disgust comes over you like a splash of a wave, soaking you in cold sweat. 

He did it for that very reason—to make you jealous. Walked right past you, just to get a rise out of you. As much as you loved him half an hour ago, that affection turns into dust within you, sprinkling the fruit trees and the berry brushes with its gray smithereens, poisoning them. 

Ouroboros, all over again. Full circle. Anger covers your disgust. 

A voice echoes within the room. Airy and light, as feminine as it is otherworldly, and you know, without a doubt, who it belongs to. It doesn’t suit her, not in the slightest. 

“There you are,” your ex-boyfriend’s companion trails off, the clapping of her flat shoes halting. “Who are you?” 

You only turn your head to the side, signaling to her that you’ve heard her question, because you fix your stare back at Jungkook as you answer it. “It’s not something you should trouble yourself with. Can you give us a minute?” 

You don’t hear any movement, so she must be stubbornly staying where she is. All right, she can join the conversation for all you care. 

When you turn your head back around, you catch stars oozing from Jungkook’s eyes, a conveyance of adornment painting his face in gentle colors that could never be associated with this room. There it is, the face you know, so resplendent of the one you last saw. And it grazes your anger, whispers to it that it was a mistake, a game of pretense, because you’re reverently acknowledged with his soul—you know who he is. While it may explain his fucked-up behavior, you don’t soften. Not at the hint of familiarity. Not even at the hushed hint of your deduction telling you that the reason why he unmasked himself was because you chose him and didn’t run away when his companion spoiled your short time together. 

You don’t soften because you simply don’t want to. 

You don’t want to give in to any means of getting close to him. 

The chapter is finished. You shouldn’t have called him. You should’ve left with Hobi. 

You don’t wish to keep him waiting long, nor do you wish to keep sprawling in your mistake. You pivot, ready to leave, but Jungkook captures your hand. Desirousness palpitates in his eyes as if he, too, needed to tell you something of urgency. 

You’ll hear him out, but that’s the end of it. 

“Can I see you later?” he asks, pupils growing in size until they absorb his chocolate irises, his grip over your hand tight and heated. A wind blows in your orchard, sweeping away all the darkened smithereens left by the bane, freshening you up. 

You don’t really think that’s a good idea. 

“I won’t have time for you later, I’ll be with Hoseok.” 

To Hobi, you won’t lie, but the same can’t be applied to Jungkook. 

His breath hitches in his throat, disappointment weighing him down, the thought of you being intimate with someone who is not him causing his posture to slouch even more. 

But he surprises you with the words he says next. 

“I’ll wait, then. Let me know when you’re alone.” 

And you surprise yourself even more when you nod, turning on your heel and scurrying off to meet Hobi outside. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[shy-urban-hobbit]

Five times the Witchers learnt just how cat-like Aiden actually is

Biscuit making - Lambert

Lambert stared down at his friend, eyebrows raised in silent question as Aiden dozed lightly, plastered to Lambert so they were snuggled chest to chest in the small inn bed. He'd gotten used to Aiden purring in his sleep when the Cat witcher felt safe (and Lambert tried not to linger too long on how that made him feel) long ago but this…this was new.

The hands resting on Lambert's chest were rhythmically gripping and releasing the material of his shirt in tandem, the pinprick scratch of long, tougher than average fingernails just enough to feel through the fabric. It wasn't uncomfortable as such, in fact once he got used to it, when paired with the soft, barely audible purr it was actually quite relaxing.

Soon enough, Lambert found himself being pulled into sleep, either not caring or not realising that he himself had started letting out a steady stream of content rumbling of his own in response.

"Question for you, Cat."

Aiden didn't pause in lacing up his boots, "Ask away, Wolf."

"You know you were-" he clenched his fingers in imitation of the gesture, "I don't know - kneading - me last night?"

At that, Aiden did pause and Lambert had the feeling if he could blush he'd be bright red.

"I..shit. Sorry, I didn't even realise. I usually only do that around my siblings. I'll try to control it better."

"Didn't say it was a bad thing. " Lambert bumped his shoulder lightly against Aiden's, "I was just curious is all. I don't give a shit what you do, short of stabbing me."

Lambert tried to ignore the warmth blooming in his chest as Aiden let out a tiny purr.

Jumpscare - Eskel

Eskel hummed to himself as he bought in the last of the vegetables from the greenhouses for pickling. Glad to see that Aiden was already in the kitchen setting everything up and was currently busy with a keg of brine. Things had been a bit tense to start with when his little brother had rolled up with a Cat of all people but Aiden had made it very hard to not like him. If nothing else, he was always more than willing to lend a hand with chores - always a bonus when your home was in a near constant state of disrepair.

"Alright." Eskel said, dumping one of the sacks out onto the stone countertop, "That's the last of this year's crop. If we work quickly we should be done by-"

He was interrupted by a yowl next to him and if Aiden was an actual cat, Eskel would be inclined to think somebody had just stepped on his tail. Whirling around he saw no sign of the other Witcher. Until he looked up just in time to see Aiden hauling himself up to fully perch on one of the rafters, glaring at Eskel's haul.

"Eh...Aiden?"

"Get those things away from me." The Cat hissed pointing accusingly.

Now Eskel was even more confused, all that was there was a perfectly innocent pile of….

"You mean these?" He held up one of the cucumbers, causing Aiden to growl low in his throat in response. Eskel hastily dropped it again, "Ok, ok. I'll put these away for now and we can work on the beetroot instead. Ok?"

Aiden nodded but still refused to leave his perch until the offending items had been shoved back into the sack and into a cupboard.

Soundlessly, he grabbed a knife and began to peel and chop the beetroot.

"Cat thing?"

"Cat thing."

Zoomies - Geralt

Geralt couldn't sleep. Again. He was nowhere near desperate enough to go down the Djinn route again but by the Gods it was starting to get annoying. He just wanted one night where his mind wouldn't keep throwing up scenarios where he failed his responsibilities to Ciri, Yen, Jaskier, his brothers…he was just one man for fucks sake.

He decided to go check on the animals, Eskel had mentioned that the fence on one of the goat pens could do with repairs but it was already getting dark by the time he'd noticed. It was on the list for the following morning but his brother would be heartbroken if any of them had gotten loose and hurt in the meantime.

Turns out Geralt wasn't the only one feeling restless. As he entered the courtyard he caught sight of a figure seemingly in the middle of running laps along the wall. Too lithe to be Eskel or Lambert, too tall to be Ciri, it had to be Aiden. Geralt stopped for a second, unsure why until he realised. Aiden was moving fast.. too fast to be running it safely in the dark and frost. Even for a Witcher, that could be a broken leg or concussion at least if he fell.

As if the Gods had been reading his thoughts, Aiden lost his footing and soundlessly tumbled down onto the cobbles of the courtyard, landing in a heap. Only to bounce back up immediately as if nothing had happened and continue running laps at ground level instead.

Geralt felt his brow furrow as he continued watching, what the fuck?

"Couldn't sleep either?"

Aiden had come to a stop in front of him, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and eyes darting around ceaselessly as he almost seemed to be vibrating in his own skin and using all of his self control to stay still and talk.

Geralt hummed in response before gesturing to the wall "You do that often?"

Aiden looked slightly sheepish as if he expected to be reprimanded, "Only a couple of times since I've been here. The mutagens. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to combust there and then if I don't move , for some reason it's worse at night. I think there was something meant to make us nocturnal, at least partially anyway. If I were on the path I'd go hunting or just go run pell mell in the woods for a bit. Doing that on an unfamiliar mountain didn't seem like the smartest thing though. I'm reckless, not suicidal."

Geralt huffed a laugh, "Well, don't let me stop you. Just don't make us find you lying out here with your skull cracked open in the morning."

Aiden gave a mock salute before going to mount the wall again, "Remind me to tell you about Cat Trials. Trust me, a fall from this is nothing. You could always run a couple of laps with me if you want? It's just, you look as if you could use something to tire you out too."

Geralt shrugged. At this point, why the fuck not?

Chirp - Jaskier

"Melitele's tits, it's cold. I mean, it. Is. COLD." Jaskier proclaimed as the two of them closed the door on the snow storm they'd just left, moving to hang his cloak and hood by the fire in the great hall, "I swear, if you and Lambert ever decide you're heading South for the winter I'm coming with you. Geralt can freeze his tits off up here alone, he'll survive. Unlike me. "

Aiden said nothing, although the bard had been around enough Witchers by now to know his companion was probably silently laughing at him as he removed his own cloak. Jaskier tsk'd at the snow clinging to Aiden's hair and moved to brush it out without thinking. The Cat let out a small but clearly audible "mrrrp" and momentarily pushed into the hand before he caught himself. He turned to face Jaskier, who was grinning at him like both Yule and his birthday had come early.

"Oh, well. That is just precious! " He exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly like a small child who's just been shown a magic trick, "Oh my dear, if all Cat Witchers make such adorable noises I may have a new favourite school. Do you all do that or is it just some of you? Purring's a given, every Witcher I've met purrs to some degree or other."

Aiden caught Coen's eye, the other Witcher flashing him a smirk which said 'You're on your own'

"That's it, I've decided! I'm making it my mission this winter to find out just how cat-like you are!"

"Do that and I'll hide your lute up in the rafters." Aiden said with no real heat, the Bard trailing after him asking questions about tables and glassware, distracted (for now) from the coldness of the Keep.

If I fits… - Vesemir

Vesemir basked in the quiet. There were perks to being one of the first ones to wake in the mornings. As much as he loved having his boys back safe and sound for the winter, after months alone the constant noise could become a little overwhelming at times, making these moments of quiet solitude all the more precious.

He made his way to the laundry room with an armful of bedding he'd found which probably hadn't been washed since the previous winter if the stale smell was anything to go by. No matter.

He quirked an eyebrow at the closed laundry hamper. He was certain he'd opened the lid earlier unless old age and senility were finally starting to get to him. Dumping the dirty sheets on the ground to free his hands he lifted the lid again.

And was greeted by Aiden blinking sleepily up at him, disturbed by the sudden brightness. Vesemir briefly took a moment to try and figure out what manner of contortion he'd used to cram himself into a space the boys had struggled to fit in even as adolescents before catching Aiden's eye. The two held eye contact as Aiden tilted his head in silent question, still half asleep. Vesemir wordlessly lowered the lid again in response before walking away shaking his head. It was too early for his boy's antics.

[night-dazai]

Making Geto Mad

Hello all this is the first time i am writing and i wanted to do a smut scenario , but i started writing a whole ass long story sorry 😭😭😭😭😭

word count is :1572

Forgive me and please let me know if i should finish the smut that i left half way at the end .

Your boyfriend Geto was the perfect man any woman could ask for, with his face, his body, voice, character, and all in all the perfect gentleman. In the whole 8 months of your relationship, he has never actually gotten mad or jealous in your eyes and even if he did he always told you and it was never a misunderstanding. This does not mean you did not have fights, but it has always been handled in a very mature way by your man and this was getting out of hand. You were a virgin before meeting this fine gentleman and true to his appearance he is a gentleman in bed, your first time was blissful and sweet and so have all your makeout sessions been. He has never once gotten rough with you, you were a glass doll he was blessed with and he would never break it for his pleasure … is what you thought. 

It has been 8 months since he changed, the famous but sweet playboy no one knew what he was. Only the people who slept with him or dated him knew him and his best friend Satoru knew that he was a devil in disguise. The first time you entered the school with your sweet-looking aura and tiny body he knew he wanted you in his bed. But little did he plan on falling for you, it was not in his plan but it happened. Your sweet voice laughing, your gentle smile when you saw him in the corridor but the way you turned cold as ice when fighting curses made his dick twitch and so did his heart. It's the first time he wanted to date a girl not to fuck her or just for entertainment. He wanted you, wanted your smile, wanted your body and your soul and he would take it at all costs. After getting you to confess to him he changed and released a bit too late. He could not force you to do anything, he was shocked when he heard you were a virgin. He wondered for nights how such a lovely flower was left untouched in this cruel world but here you were in his arms sleeping peacefully having no idea how badly he wanted to destroy you. He wanted to fuck you, he loved you no questions but he wanted fuck, rough hard and nasty, but he could not. Seeing the tears trickle down your cheeks the first time he entered you, he wanted to ruin you but held on. The way you held his arms trying to hold your life was so cute which made him wonder “Can she ever handle a rough man ?” and he decided no. Every time there was a fight he would go to Nanami to talk and vent but his friend being the calm and rational person he is always listened and told the mostly mature solution making Geto the mature person in the relationship. 

Shoko held your hand tightly as you scanned yourself once again in the mirror “You look sexy and can get 20 to 30 tonight, girl forget your man and enjoy the night “ she said hugging your waist as you looked doubtful. You had never worn such a short frock, the black material was almost transparent making your white inners slightly visible in a teasing way. “Do I look good in this ?” you asked doubtfully but before you could get an answer Gojo burst the room door open “It has been an hour girls let go!!” his voice high and whinny but when he saw you he dramatically opened his jaw and got on his knees “ marry me love I will al-” Ghetto kicked his friend in the ass pushing him aside walked up to you “ love, shall we ?”. His voice was soft and sweet he took your hands kissing your knuckles. You nodded your head and soon you guys started to the club. This was your first time coming to a club “Geto ..” you whispered in his ear to make sure he heard you in the loud place “Yes love?” he asked looking at you “I don't look weird right ?” you asked tucking a stand of your hair behind. Ghetto smiled and placed a glass in front of you “of course love why would you think that ?” he asked snaking an arm around your waist. You looked around nervously for a second and thought about what Shoko told you “ well… i feel kinda weird …” your tone made Geto’s face frown in worry “ why are you feeling sick or you dont like the music should we leave ?” he asked placing his glass down . “No no… just … “ you fidgeted with your fingers “ i might be wrong also but …i feel like people are starting at me “ you voice trailed low at the end . If Geto had not been close to you he would have not heard a word . Gojo and Shoko both were on the floor having a blast while you were trying to make your boyfriend mad. Ghetto smiled looking at you, his calloused hands rubbing on your checks “When my girl is so lovely looking how can they keep their eyes to them, they have to look your angle “ his voice was low and as he spoke in your ear your checkers heated “ oh…i see” you said turning your head and looking at your friends who were waving at you two to join them. You dragged your boyfriend to the dance floor trying to avoid his sly look which was making you squirm. As you were enjoying the floor you noticed how a group of men were approaching you and shoko “Darling, i will be back in a while “ Geto said holding your waist “Whyy..” you asked worried after noticing the group of men “ a puff dear only a little i will be back soon don't worry Gojo is here “ he said kissing your head he felt you with Shoko who was ass of drunk. You kept your thoughts to yourself and continued to dance when you felt someone grab your hand “ kitty want someone to dance with ?” asked a blonde while the rest of the group walked towards you and Shoko “ oiiiii… dance with me “ she said grabbing the man from you and dragging him away but you started feeling uncomfortable walked but before they could grab you again you were pulled backwards “ love are these your friends ?” a sweet voice cooed from behind you . Feeling safe you turned and hugged your boyfriend “Geto..” you mumbled in his chest while the men stopped and walked away “ love you wanna go home ?” he asked but you did not move or make any noise . “y/n look at me ?” he said worried taking your face he saw your glassy eyes small red lips and doe eyes .“Let's go back “ He said and dragged you out of the place with Gojo shouting behind him “ GETO…!!!” . Your ride back was quiet as you calmed down “ will Shoko be alright ?” you asked worried “ Shoko … i would worry about the man more “ Geto said and it was quite again . You soon realise he was taking you to his house and for some reason the air felt heavy in the car and the elevator .  

Due to a word limit this is ending mid way i am extremely sorry the next half in the posted .

Thank you for reading this and i accept any request !!

[tinycoded360]

Sterling household--The Talk

Chapter 8: The talk

Milton's heart pounded nervously as he stood on Sterling's kitchen table, flanked by Cassia and Emma. Sterling loomed like a benign colossus, his presence still intimidating.

"Alright then," Milton began, his voice steadier than he felt, "let's talk about how we can make this work for all of us."

“Of course, but first, I have some things for you.” The tiny borrowers watched in confusion as Sterling turned to grab something from his counter.

The smell of freshly baked bread was distracting. Apparently, Sterling thought it was a good idea for them to snack and talk.

"Smells amazing, doesn't it?" Cassia whispered, her stomach betraying her with a tiny growl.

"Focus," Milton murmured, though even he couldn't deny the saliva pooling in his mouth at the thought of fresh bread. Granted, Cassia was perfectly able to make bread within the walls of their home, but it wasn’t the same as the fluffy bread that giants make.

Sterling chuckled, a deep sound vibrating through the air. "I hope you're hungry. There's plenty to go around." He set down a plate of freshly cut bread. Some slices had butter on them, and others did not. The bread was cut into tiny pieces so it would be easy for his tiny guests to handle.

Before Milton could make a move to sample the offering, Sterling spoke up again, his giant hand coming down close, startling the tiny man. “Wait one more thing, here take this, this is for you.” Pinched between the giant’s forefinger and thumb was a tiny tea cup—perfectly sized for the tiny borrowers. Milton stared in shock but reached for the cup. Sterling offered a cup to Cassia and Emma as well.

“These are for you, you can keep them, I bought them at a craft store, I thought they would be perfect for you. Oh! And these too.” Next Sterling handed each of them a tiny spoon, the spoon was close to their scale.

“This is amazing, Sterling. Thank you.” Cassia said.

“Why do you giants have tiny stuff like this? What’s the purpose?” Emma spoke up. She liked the tiny gift, but she couldn’t understand why a giant would sell and buy these things, if not for toys for their young, but these items seemed way to small for children’s toys.

“I don’t know……. I guess humans have always liked tiny things.” Sterling said with a shrug.

“But wait there’s more.” Sterling said with a grin. He brought over a pitcher of iced tea. He then took a pipette and suctioned some of the tea into it. He then held it over each of their tiny cups. He carefully served them some fresh tea.

Sterling sat down in his chair, holding a mug of his own; he took a sip of his tea and smiled down at them. “Ok, now we can start.”

Milton inched closer to the table's edge, his eyes locked on Sterling's face. "Sterling," Milton started, each word measured and deliberate, "We've come to appreciate... your kindness."

Sterling leaned in, careful not to make any sudden moves that might startle his tiny guests. "I'm glad to hear that, Milton. I've always enjoyed helping where possible, and I want you guys to stay."

Cassia, her hands clasped in front of her, added, "We can't ignore the risks, but we also see the benefits of living here, close to you." Her voice held a note of cautious optimism.

"Of course," Sterling nodded, "It's a delicate balance, isn't it?"

Emma glanced between Milton and Cassia before addressing Sterling with a hint of boldness. "It is. And we'll find a way to maintain that balance if you are."

Sterling's expression softened further, touched by the admission. " All of you were very kind to look after me when I was ill. I think we can be good neighbors or roommates or sorts, I’d be willing to work out an agreement of conduct.”

"An exchange," Milton proposed. "We help with small tasks, like pest control and small repairs to the house, and in return, we receive some food scraps and materials that would otherwise be wasted."

"Seems fair, but I think we can do better than that," Sterling agreed with a gentle smile. "I don’t want you guys to feel like you have to hide. I don’t see how that’s different than before?” “What, the only difference is I know you’re around?” Sterling asked with a frown.

“This is a lot for us. We’re not supposed to interact or talk to you like this.” Emma pointed out.

“I won’t push you past what you’re comfortable with, but I would want you all to be more comfortable, maybe interact more. I’d be willing to share more than just scraps.” Sterling pressed.

"Hmmm, okay, then. Look, Sterling," Emma piped up, barely containing the tremor in her voice as she glanced warily at the corner of the kitchen where Whiskers usually lounged. Currently, the cat was shut in Sterling’s room. "We need to talk about your cat, then."

Milton's eyes darted toward the ground, his body tensing at the mention of the feline predator. Cassia placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her gaze fixed on Sterling.

Sterling sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know Whiskers can be... problematic for you folks, but she's part of this household too. I can't just get rid of her."

"Perhaps we could arrange our borrowing times?" suggested Milton. "A schedule that lets us roam when she's confined to your room?"

"Or announce ourselves loudly," Cassia added with a hint of reluctance. "Though it feels like asking permission in our own home."

"Training her might be a safer bet," Sterling proposed, watching their reactions closely. "Properly introduce you to her, so she understands you’re family, not food. But of course, I’d be willing to set a schedule; we can write it out."

Cassia nodded slowly. " The schedule would be preferred, and I think we should do that first. But I’d be willing to try to be introduced to your—"

"No!" Milton interjected sharply. "I won't risk Cassia or the children. If we do that, I’ll do it first, just in case something goes wrong."

“Oh, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise,” Sterling said as he leaned closer.

Sterling and Milton locked eyes, a silent battle of wills passing between them until Sterling finally chuckled. "I promise you won’t be hurt; I’ll be there every step of the way; it will be done under close supervision.”

"Good," Milton grumbled, not thrilled about this whole idea.

"Another thing," Cassia said before the mood could sour further. "Please, don't tell others about us. It's dangerous if more humans know."

"Of course," Sterling agreed solemnly. "Your secret's safe with me. And I'll give you a heads-up if I'm expecting company. You should have plenty of time to hide or return to your nest."

"Thank you," Cassia said, the relief evident in her tone. "It eases my mind knowing we won't stumble upon strangers."

"Before we continue further," Sterling said, shifting slightly, "I have another thing for you." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth. He unfolded it on the table with delicate care to reveal an assortment of miniature kitchenware.

Milton's eyes narrowed at the sight of the tiny pots and pans, more silverware, more teacups, plates, and plastic buckets—all perfectly borrower-sized. "We can't accept these; you’ve already given us a gift," he stated firmly, his pride as a provider prickling at the offer and the fact they didn’t get any gift for the giant.

Cassia's elbow nudged into his side subtly yet with intention. "Oh, they're wonderful," she exclaimed, her voice warm with genuine delight as she inspected the gifts. "We love them, don't we?"

"Of course," Milton conceded begrudgingly, though his gaze lingered on the items with a hint of appreciation. Sterling's lips curled into a pleased smile, his eyes brightening at Cassia's enthusiasm.

"Good, I'm glad," Sterling responded, watching them. "I hope they're... usable."

"Indeed," Cassia said, still admiring the craftsmanship.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Sterling's expression turned serious. "Listen, I've been meaning to ask—have you been cooking inside the walls? Using flame?" His tone was gentle, but concern etched his brow.

Cassia and Milton tensed simultaneously; the question felt like an intrusion, a spotlight on their hidden lives. "Yes, but we're always careful," Cassia assured quickly, her voice steady despite the sudden anxiety.

"Even so, I'd rather you didn't," Sterling insisted. "It's not just about being careful. Even tiny, controlled fires could lead to disaster."

"Disaster?" Milton scoffed. "We know what we're doing. It's not like we're reckless."

"Still," Sterling pressed, "what if there's another way? I could get you a miniature kitchen to set up here, on the counter. You could cook safely without worries."

"Out here?" Milton's voice rose incredulously. "You expect us to abandon the safety of the walls whenever hunger strikes?"

"Look, I—I thought it might be nice to share meals, but maybe that's too much," Sterling stuttered, his proposal hanging awkwardly in the air. "We can work out a schedule if that's better."

"Share meals?" Emma muttered under her breath, her skepticism evident even in hushed tones. "Like we wouldn't just take what we need anyway."

Sterling cleared his throat, undeterred. "I'll also leave a notepad out. If you need anything specific, just write it down, and I'll see what I can do."

"I’ll consider it. Could I pick the kitchen?” Cassia spoke up. She loved the idea of having something close to what humans got to enjoy.

“Of course!” Sterling said with a relieved smile.

“Okay, well, we can give it a try to see if that works,” Cassia declared, ignoring her husband's grumpy expression.

"Agreed," Sterling nodded. "You'll have free access to the kitchen. Anything you need."

"Generous offer," Cassia said with a small smile, glancing up at Sterling's towering figure. "Thank you, really."

"Of course," he replied, his voice softening. "Anything for my little housemates."

"Right," Sterling said, refocusing the group's attention. "One last rule I'd like to put in place. My bedroom and bathroom are off-limits. You'll just have to ask me if you need something from those rooms."

Milton nodded, his expression serious as he considered the giant human's request. "Understandable. Your privacy is important."

"Very well," Emma agreed, her eyes flickering to the other borrowers. "We'll respect your spaces. Let's sort out these schedules then."

"Great," Sterling replied, relieved. They discussed times and routines, ensuring their paths would cross safely and predictably.

Once they agreed on a schedule, Sterling reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object. "I've got one more thing for you. It's a smartphone—a basic one, but it should do the trick."

"A phone?" Milton's eyebrows shot up, incredulity etched across his face.

"Yes," Sterling beamed, placing it gently on the table before them. "It's pre-paid. You can call or text me if there's an emergency or even if you just need to ask about something."

Cassia leaned forward, her eyes wide as she examined the device. "This... this is too much, Sterling. We can't accept—"

"Please," Sterling interjected, pressing his palm against his chest. "It would give me peace of mind knowing you could reach out if needed."

"Thank you," Milton said gruffly, clearly moved despite his reservations. He was thinking about how they’d have to give something to Sterling in return; the giant human had already given them too many gifts. He could not stand to be outdone in this way.

Sterling picked up the phone and showed how to use it. "Here's how you turn it on, and here's how you make a call. I've saved my number under 'Giant'—it seemed fitting."

A chuckle escaped Cassia's lips, and even Emma allowed herself a small grin at the nickname.

"Let's test it," Sterling suggested. He dialed his own number from the phone and let it ring. His pocket buzzed, and he showed them the incoming call. "See? That's you calling."

"Technology," Milton muttered, still eyeing the phone with a mix of suspicion and fascination. Their most common technology was wiring and lights in their tunnels.

"Can we send messages, too?" Cassia asked, her curiosity overriding her initial hesitation.

"Absolutely," Sterling confirmed. "I'll leave it here by the notepad—you can grab it whenever you're ready to take it back to your nest."

"Stellar," Emma said, and though the word was flippant, her tone carried genuine appreciation.

"Thank you, Sterling," Cassia said again, her voice warm. " Although, Sterling, there's one more thing," Cassia interjected, "I want you to properly meet our children."

"Of course!" Sterling’s voice boomed enthusiastically, a giant grin spreading across his face. His eyes sparkled at the prospect of meeting the little ones he’d only glimpsed during hurried rescues from mischievous escapades.

"Come on up, loves!" Cassia called out. Four tiny figures emerged from the shadowy crevice in the wall, cautiously approaching the table. Agnes, her hair tied back in a practical braid, climbed the dangling rope with ease of experience, her little brother Finn clinging to her back, his eyes wide with wonder and trepidation. Pippin and Lila followed their big sister.

Sterling watched, spellbound by their miniature bravery, resisting every paternal instinct to scoop his hands underneath them for safety. Instead, he remained still, but his body was ready to lunge forward to catch them if they slipped.

"Hello, Mr. Silversmith," Agnes greeted, her voice steady despite the rapid thumping of her heart.

"Hi!" chirped Finn, his small fingers tightening around his sister's shoulders.

"Please, call me Sterling," he replied gently, careful not to startle them with the volume of his voice. "And who might this brave knight be?" he nodded towards Finn. He’d only seen the tiny boy once after rescuing him from his cat.

"I'm Finn!" the boy announced proudly, puffing out his chest as much as his piggyback position would allow.

"Nice to meet you, Finn. And Agnes, it's a pleasure to see you again."

Agnes nodded, her cheeks flushing with bashfulness.

"Can I have some bread?" Finn asked, his gaze darting to the plate of food.

"Of course," Sterling chuckled.

"Yeah!" Finn exclaimed, sliding down from Agnes's back to enjoy the warm food. Milton moved to help his youngest with his serving.

Sterling's eyes then landed on the other two children.

Cassia stepped forward. “This is Pippin, and this is Lila.”

“Hello there, it’s very nice to meet you?” Sterling smiled at the two tiny children.

Pippin shuffled his feet. “It’s nice to meet you too; thank you for letting me go last time.”

“Of course, little one. Here, go help yourself to the bread,” Sterling replied. He could tell the tiny children were still nervous around him, and he hoped his offering would put them at ease.

Sterling watched in fascination as the tiny girl, Lila, approached his hand. She placed her tiny hand on his finger. To his surprise and delight, the tiny girl started to climb into his hand. She stood on the back of his hand. Balancing and giggling as she went. Sterling held perfectly still, not wanting to knock the tiny girl down. He could feel her tiny feet padding softly against his skin.

"Are we like mice to you?" Lila asked, her voice teeming with curiosity.

"A bit," Sterling acknowledged with a teasing grin, "But much cleverer and certainly more talkative."

"Can I climb up your arm?" Lila inquired, peeking up through long lashes, her adventurous spirit shining through.

"Maybe," Sterling hedged, shooting a quick glance at their parents. "With your parents' permission, of course." He was surprised at how quickly this little one was warming up to him.

"Let's stick to the table for now," Milton interjected. It didn’t sit right with him to see his youngest daughter using the human as a jungle gym. She shouldn’t be this at ease with him.

Lila pouted but listened to her father. She hopped down from the giant hand and ran over to her father, asking for some yummy bread.

After the borrowers had their fill of bread and the adults had hashed out their agreements, they said their goodbyes, packed their gifts into their packs and headed back inside the walls. Sterling leaned down, handing them their new phone to take back with them. Sterling was amused that it took all three tiny adults to drag the electronics back with them. 

Author Note: Below is an example of some of the gifts Sterling gave them. The figure is just a reference model for size comparison. 

Chapter 9

[verefex]

Skylark

Short story (17 pages) of Lark meeting Sky, the titan. Featuring the most clever ship name ever

SFW, giant/tiny interactions. Read under the cut!

An electrifying, booze-filled night full of loud music and stumbling drunks is how a true rooftop party goes. Nearly every Friday night, you can hear the hum of cheers combined with the boom of the bass at the top of the cityscape. Strobe lights dance on the neighboring windows, reflecting a kaleidoscope of glimmering colors. These parties are all the rage, not just because the liquor is so abundant it flows like water, but patrons are often dancing in close quarters to none other than a colossus of a person; a titan.

Why else would these festivities be held on the summit of a tower? Standing at over 100 feet tall, with footwear larger than a bus, being at ground-level while a massive man steps to and fro with no notice of other party-goers is just asking for someone to be flattened.

Fortunately, titans are more than just giant humans; their origins date back for centuries where humanity revered them as powerful gods. Nowadays, their presence is more casual, mingling and merry-making with their tiny human friends. Supposing a human did get in the way of a titan’s foot, they will live to tell about it so long as the giant wills it. How great their size, strength, and mystic talents are.

No one is really sure just where the giants get their divinity from, and collectedly their origins are mysterious. Even the titans themselves are incognizant of their genesis, which has prompted earnest research on the subject.

One such titan enthusiast, a vivacious scientist by the name of Jung, often attends events with various titans to become more acquainted with them and the humans they associate with. While it may seem flippant to relate research to drinking and dancing on a giant man’s hand, Jung has no doubts that his methods of obtaining research material are impeccable.

On one such occasion, in the city of Horizon, Jung was going about his usual business. Drinking, dancing, flirting, the tall dark-haired man was having a great time. He had brought along a friend as well, an old classmate of his by the name of Lark. While Jung was off socializing, Lark stood in the corner of the boisterous rooftop, sipping a cocktail while she faced the opposite direction of the majority of the patrons. This was not only her first time going to such a party, but also her first time being in the city of a titan. Indeed, she knew about their existence and had caught glimpses of the giants in the distance as they traverse the landscape with lengthy strides, but never in very close proximity.

The titan that inhabited Horizon city, and who was also present at the party, was named Sky. Standing at 130 feet tall, this friendly colossus of a man was often eager to interact with humans. His fair skin with barely a blemish contrasted handsomely with his black hair, and dark sideburns lined his jaws. The color of his eyes matched the inside of his mouth, as blue as his namesake. He was quite a spectacle, towering over the boisterous rooftop of dancing, singing humans no bigger than his finger.

Not one of the humans batted an eye when Sky’s enormous hand hovered over them, gentle fingers spreading as he picked up an unconscious drunk and set them on a comfortable couch. The presence of a giant was so commonplace in Horizon that this was no extraordinary feat, and the other party-goers paid no heed. Except for Lark, who couldn’t even muster the courage to move closer to the railings lining the roof.

Jung, in the thick of his merry-making, eventually noticed his wallflower friend and sauntered his way over to her. He sat himself on the couch beside Lark and threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him as he held a drink in the other hand.

“Hey girl, you not having fun? What’s wrong?” He blurted as he gave his timid friend a firm squeeze with his forearm.

“I’m having a lot of fun.” Lark lied, wincing at her tactile friend’s embrace.

“C’mon. Didn’t you want to finally meet a real live titan? He’s literally standing over everyone.” Jung said as he craned his head back and pointed at the looming head of Sky.

Lark did not follow his gaze. Her cheeks became pink as she clutched her drink in both of her hands, which was mostly just ice by now.

“I know…” Lark murmured as she fiddled with her straw. “He’s hard to miss.”

“Yeah, especially if you don’t even take a shot! C’mon girl, I’ll introduce you to him.” Jung gave her shoulders a squeeze as he stood up a little too quickly.

“N-no, that’s okay… I’m sure he’s busy with everyone else.” Lark whined as Jung beckoned her off the couch.

“Naw, naw, he’s just chilling with us, he’s cool. C’mon.” Jung snapped his fingers at the fair-haired woman as she reluctantly followed him.

“I-I’m not even dressed up for this place…” Lark peeped as she was led through the crowd by her gregarious friend. She looked down at her red zip-up hoodie, khaki shorts, and black high top sneakers; more street wear than anything to her. She would have dressed up, but her visit to Horizon was rather spur of the moment, and the party even more so.

As she looked up, through the booms and cheers of the crowd dancing in the middle of the rooftop, her eyes widened at the sight of the giant. His head was tilted back, a perfect side profile before her as he took a couple swigs from a can larger than a phone booth. Lark felt her heart drop as she took in the size of him; the mere height of him from the shoulders on up was dizzying already. She couldn’t even think about looking up at him from ground-level, over 100 feet of mountainous man towering over her.

Lark’s blue eyes couldn’t get much wider. She found herself transfixed on the giant as he downed several sips of his drink before leveling his head and slowly turning his attention towards her and Jung.

It was then that Lark realized she was afraid; very, very afraid, of giants. Seeing them from a distance was nothing compared to the terrifying reality of being so much smaller than this colossus of a being. Glowing, blue eyes fixated on the pair as Sky studied Jung, leaning in just a little closer to see him, before softening his expression and smiling.

“Hey, Jung. How’s the party?” Sky said, though his voice boomed nearly as loud as the music blaring over the speakers.

“Oh it’s bumpin’. I got a plus-one this time, me and her studied together back in undergrad.” Jung stood underneath the giant’s gaze as he gestured to Lark, who lagged behind him as if using her friend as a place to hide behind.

Lark jolted as Jung turned the giant’s attention towards her. His gaze stupefied her, and she stood motionless as Jung stepped to the side and introduced her.

“Lark, this is Sky. Sky, Lark.” Jung beamed as he gestured from enormous face to quivering body. “Hey, Sky, Lark! Skylark! How cool is that?” The man laughed out loud as he stepped behind Lark and squeezed her shoulders affirmingly.

Lark’s head started to spin the more this interaction went on. Just looking up at Sky’s expansive face was making her dizzy. And then he looked right at her, and raised his enormous hand over the railing. Long, log-like fingers stretched towards her as Sky turned his fingertips upwards.

“Nice to meet you.” He boomed.

This was nothing more than a friendly gesture, a handshake on a colossal scale. Ordinarily, a human would place their hand on the titan’s fingertip and the two would briefly shake, one with just the finger and the other with their whole arm. However, to Lark, who was not aware of this gesture, vastly misinterpreted it as a motion to snatch her entire being off of the ground.

“N-no!” Lark shrieked as she backed away quickly, bumping into Jung as she tumbled backwards in recoil. Jung and Sky both stared at her in shock as she tripped backwards, regained her footing, and ran hurriedly back inside.

Sky brought his hand back to his face, watching the scared woman run from him. He examined his hand, brows furrowing quizzically.

“Oh… goodness.” Jung sighed as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “That didn’t go as planned.” he uttered as he glanced up at Sky, who was still looking at his hand.

“Sorry, Sky. She’s new here…” Jung said as he leaned on the railing in front of Sky. The titan put his hands in the pockets of his jeans and gave his small friend a smile.

“It’s fine… I didn’t mean to scare her...” Sky rumbled as he carefully glanced in Lark’s direction, catching no sight of her.

Lark, meanwhile, was huddled in the bathroom. Sweat and tears moistened her pink cheeks as she ran her fingers through her short, blonde hair. She shuddered as she recalled the looming, giant hand of the giant. Though it was terrifying for her, she caught a glimpse of his confused face before running away in abject terror.

“Oh no…” She whimpered, balling her hands into fists as she rocked back and forth in the bathroom. As frightened as she was, the titan’s feelings were also hurt. How could she possibly go back out there and face him, now?

Later that evening, the party was starting to wind down. Several daredevils jumped into Sky’s glass from the balcony, which was more of a common occurrence than one might think. Putting their full trust into the towering titan that oversaw the party often led to trouble when it came to mind-numbing drinks. Luckily, Sky fully expects these things to happen, and is quite relieved at the end of the night when everyone is too tired to jump off the roof into his not-quite-ready hands.

The dark-haired giant waved goodbye to the last of the patrons as he headed home, treading carefully through the dimly-lit streets. He walked cautiously, stepping one foot in front of the other in the empty roads, the width of his sneaker nearly the same as the asphalt strip.

Despite his careful way of moving through the city, his immense footsteps still rumbled nearby windows and quaked scattered debris into storm drains. If it weren’t for the residents of Horizon city being quite accustomed to having a titan around, there would undoubtedly be screams coming from the lofty apartments.

The night was still, the city slept, and the giant yawned. His home was not far off, especially for his long stride. Sky’s residence was an enormous concrete bunker, nestled in the hillside covered with leafy trees. Building a living space for a giant was no easy feat, especially one that was above-ground. Many years ago, humans built these bunkers for the titans to shelter and live in if they so chose.

Sky walked up to the door of the bunker and punched a few numbers on a keypad. Heavy metal pins within the frame released, and the door swung inwards, revealing a dark, cave-like interior. The giant man entered his home and shut the door, taking care to watch the floor as the gargantuan door swung shut. While he enjoyed the company of humans, he has had too many close calls with little enthusiastic fans trying to sneak through the closing door.

The titanic titan was beat. He winced as he sat down on the ground and started to untie his shoes. “Ugh… I have got to start sitting down more at these things.” Sky muttered as he took off one of his shoes, sighing when he realized he had been on his feet for hours, standing next to the rooftop to be with the partying humans. Ordinarily standing for long periods of time would be less of an ordeal if you’re not like Sky, who happened to weigh over 2 million pounds.

Sky started to take off his other shoe, but not before noticing something moving in his pant leg. He gripped the end of his pants at his ankle and tugged on it. A small object brushed the back of his bare leg, which prompted the giant to shake it out.

None other than Lark fell out of his pant leg. Astonished, Sky froze as he watched the little human tumble down the back of his shoe and onto the ground. Lark floundered on her back before scrambling up onto her hands and knees, eyes wide as she trailed her gaze up the giant’s body before meeting his. The two locked eyes for a moment, and the room was silent.

Sky did not speak. He felt shocked, annoyed, and the lingering buzz of alcohol swirling in his head. The giant merely narrowed his gaze and waited for the trespasser to say something.

Lark couldn’t believe it. She did not intend to be seen or caught by the titan, at least not until morning. She had such a brilliant plan earlier, in her drunken stupor, to hitch a ride on the man’s massive shoe until he reached his home. Well, in actuality, it was Jung’s idea. He claimed to “ride” the titans in this way often as a means of quick travel, and he was more than happy to urge Lark to do the same.

As it turned out, it was more of a bumpy ride than she anticipated, with thousands of pounds of mass quaking every footstep. She had no choice but to climb into his pant leg, which was slightly less tremulous than his shoe, but did not give her the visibility to keep an eye out for her stop.

Now she was sobered up and faced with the terror of staring up at the monolith of a man, who sat on the floor with one shoe on and one shoe off. Her limbs shook under his gaze, and she had half a mind to prostrate herself and beg for forgiveness.

“I-I… I…” She stammered through chattering teeth. None of the words she formed in her head were coming out of her lips. Her voice came out like a little squeak, further emphasizing her mouse-like nature and size in comparison to the giant, shuddering in his shadow.

Sky took notice of her trembling, and his gaze softened. From the look of her clothing, she seemed to be Jung’s friend that he met at the party. Well, ‘met’ was an overstatement. His reaching hand sent her running before they could exchange words.

“...Hi there.” The titan uttered as he placed his palms on his thighs. He leaned over her just slightly, mindful of his movements, keeping them slow.

Lark watched his movements from her vulnerable position at the base of his foot. The giant’s loud, yet gentle voice filled her ears and caused her to sit up, rocking onto her heels in a low kneel. There was no hint of anger in his voice, yet she dreaded what might come next.

“...Hello… um…” She breathed, chest heaving as if his looming body above her was suffocating her. Her words became lost and she just stared up at the mighty man.

Sky tilted his head slightly at her. He had never quite seen a human so deeply affected by him in this way. Perhaps this was how all humans were when they first met the titans, he thought. He breathed in deep and exhaled before speaking again.

“Did you mean to hide in my clothing like that?” Sky spoke lowly, gently. “You could have gotten really hurt.”

Lark glanced around her. Sky’s leg arched over her, the crook of his knee almost directly above her head. A dizzying sight that made her want to turn heel and run, but the giant’s polite manner of speech kept her somewhat calm.

“I just… wanted to apologize to you personally.” Lark gasped, forcing herself to cease her trembling. “But I didn’t know where you lived… so I just climbed on… I didn’t think you’d notice.” She half-laughed, realizing how foolish she sounded.

Sky looked at her with an amused grin. “Apologize? For what?”

“Oh… well, for getting scared, I guess…” Lark peeped, feeling even more foolish. “I shouldn’t have ran from you. You’re Jung’s friend, after all… I…” She stammered as she lowered her gaze, then fumbled in her pocket for her phone. “I should call him, h-hang on…” The nervous woman said as she patted her pants and jacket pockets.

“Shoot, my phone!” She blurted as she looked along the ground for her cell phone. Crawling on her hands and knees in the dimly-lit bunker, Lark searched with no luck.

Sky leaned down and scanned the floor for a sign of a tiny phone. He let out a puff of breath as he realized before she did that her phone probably fell out before he entered his home. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own phone, a rather dated design with modular buttons and a small screen, a billboard-sized device.

“It’s fine. I’ll text him.” The giant said calmly as he flipped open the keyboard and typed on it. Lark stopped her searching and looked up at him, even more astonished at seeing the enormous gadget.

“...I, oh… you don’t have to, I’m sure mine’s around here somewhere…” Lark said as she watched him tap the buttons.

“I got it. He’s probably worried about you.” Sky said as he glanced down at the curious little woman at his foot. “You look exhausted. You can stay here for the night, if you’d like.”

Lark’s eyes were wide. “Stay… here?” She said rather quietly, looking around the enormous bunker. It was very dark, except for two rod light fixtures on either side of the room. She could barely make out a row of cabinets, a sink, and a table with two chairs from her position on the floor of a giant kitchenette. The rest of the interior went on further, but the lights didn’t illuminate that far.

“Yeah. I can’t really bring you anywhere right now, not at this time of night. And roads don’t come up to my place, so if you have a ride… they’d have to walk quite a ways.” Sky said as he slowly swung his leg away from Lark and took off his remaining shoe. He stayed seated on the floor as he looked down at the confused little human on the concrete.

“I… well, that’s… very kind of you.” Lark said, still in shock. Admittedly, she didn’t quite plan for what she would do after apologizing to the giant. Especially not at 1 AM.

Sky nodded at the polite little woman. “Yeah, it’s no worry. Sorry for scaring you earlier, by the way. If I had known that you never met a titan before, I wouldn’t have gone for a handshake.” The giant chuckled, flexing his feet in his socks.

Lark realized she was still sitting on the cold floor as Sky apologized to her. She stood up suddenly, shaking her head with an embarrassed blush. “N-no, it’s fine! It’s uh, it’s more of a me thing. I’m not sure what came over me… I just thought for sure you were going to… grab me.” She bit her lip.

Sky raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh?” He mused as he leaned closer to the shy woman. “Don’t like the thought of being in my hand?”

“Ah… t-the thought didn’t even occur to me. I just saw something big coming towards me…” Lark gasped as she again stared up at the looming giant. She could tell that he was amused by the situation, and she did her best to hide her fears. The sheer height of him just sitting down was dizzying to her.

“Hmm. You know, I’m so used to humans being… used to me.” Sky rumbled as he tilted his head at the tiny woman standing on his floor. “So I don’t want to traumatize you, Lark. Are you going to be okay if I stand up?” The giant said as he nodded towards the wall behind him. “I need to turn on the lights.”

Lark was quite thankful that Sky was so accommodating. She almost forgot what she was even scared of, until he mentioned standing up. She looked down at her own feet, then up at him, realizing that she would be at ground level, looking up at a towering titan over 100 feet tall when standing.

She started to feel dizzy at the thought of it, but it’s not like she could tell him what to do in his own house. Lark nodded and brought her hands up to her chest nervously.

“O-of course. I’ll be okay.” She lied, thoughts racing as she scrambled to mentally prepare herself for what was coming.

Sky took her words at face value and slowly stood up, drawing his towering legs towards him as he rocked forward and planted his heels on the ground under him. His titanic form was now hunched over Lark, who didn’t dare move from her place on the vast concrete floor.

Sky couldn’t help but smile to himself as he looked down at Lark, who couldn’t peel her eyes off of him. Even from his lofty position he could tell that her eyes were as blue as his, wide and wavering in his shadow.

The world shrank as Sky slowly rose up on his legs, standing at his full 130 foot height, nearly reaching the ceiling of the enormous interior of the bunker. Though he stood still, Lark could feel the weight of him through the ground. Micro-tremors pulsed underneath her as the giant’s mass settled onto his heels, and she felt her head spinning, spinning, until everything was black.

When she awoke, she was no longer on a hard, concrete surface. Lark groggily lifted her head, feeling her body sink into something soft.

She had been laying on Sky’s bed, tucked neatly under a blanket. More specifically, she was on one of his pillows, and beside her rested the giant himself on the other side of the massive bed.

“...Sky?” Lark said as she sat up, cheeks reddening as she looked at the massive, sleeping face of the titan. He was resting with his head on his forearms, still dressed in his jeans and hoodie as he laid on his stomach, facing the pillow that Lark was placed onto.

Lark leaned forward, studying his sleeping face. He looked as if he had just nodded off, though she had no idea how long she was out for. She stiffened up as she realized that he must have picked her up and carried her here after she fell unconscious. Her heart fluttered as she imagined how that might have gone, him bending down and plucking her off the floor with those massive fingers.

The woman bit her lip as she glanced around her, utterly dwarfed by the giant’s pillow. Much like a wedding ring in the middle of a silken cushion, her entire being was encompassed by soft, white fabric. She couldn’t imagine a bigger bed, save for the actual mattress Sky himself was laying on adjacent to her.

Suddenly, the giant’s eyes blinked open, and an immediate look of relief came upon him when he saw Lark sitting up, awake.

“Oh, thank god.” He said as he raised his head up to look at her. “I wasn’t sure how long you were gonna be out for.”

Lark’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the no-longer slumbering giant beside her. His face was close, very close. She could almost feel the warmth of his body emanating off of him.

“I… did I pass out?” Lark asked.

“Yeah. About oh… 20 minutes ago.” Sky said as he glanced at the clock. “I’m sorry, I had to pick you up to bring you here. I couldn’t just leave you on the floor.”

Lark bit her lip and looked to the side. With the main light on inside the bunker, she could see more of Sky’s place. The inside looked like a large-scale studio apartment, built with industrial-grade concrete and rebar. Not exactly homey, but at least the bed was comfortable.

“It’s okay… thank you, Sky...” Lark said as she turned back to face him. As she looked up at his hulking face, she remembered why she blacked out in the first place. “Ugh…” Lark groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. This giant must really think she is hopeless.

Sky let out a short laugh. “Do you have vertigo?” He asked as he tilted his head at her. “You looked up at me and just… kept going. Fell flat on your back. Would have had a nasty bump if I didn’t fix it.”

“I might have vertigo.. that would explain a lot.” Lark replied. “Wait, what do you mean ‘fix it’?”

“When I picked you up, I healed your head.” Sky said matter-of-factually. “Yeah, I don’t know how it works, either. I can heal humans by my touch.” The giant shrugged, then covered his mouth as he yawned.

“Huh…” Lark mumbled as she watched him yawn. She felt herself tire as well, and couldn’t help but yawn in succession.

“I think it’s time for bed. Is this comfortable enough for you?” Sky smiled as he nodded to the pillow that surrounded her little body.

Lark blinked and looked around. She certainly was comfortable, but this meant that she’d be sharing a bed with a titan. “I… yeah… is this okay?” She blurted. “S-sharing a bed?” Her face blushed.

“It’s hardly sharing a bed. You’re on my pillow.” Sky rumbled as he leaned to the side, pulled the blanket out from under him and shimmied underneath it. “Not like you take up space, you know. Don’t worry… I won’t bother you. I’ll stay on my side.” The giant grunted as he rolled over to the other end of the bed and settled under the covers.

Lark was too tired to argue. She was quite comfortable on the giant’s pillow, covered by the thick edge of a huge blanket. It had been such a long night of travel, partying, and riding in a giant’s shoe. Sky’s gentle yet assertive way of speaking gave Lark no reason to complain; she was just happy to have a safe place to rest after a night of drinking.

“O-okay!” Lark peeped as Sky reached over to the bedside lamp and switched it off. Suddenly the room was almost completely dark, and only the sound of Sky’s breathing reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

“Goodnight.” The giant rumbled, and Lark replied back with a hasty “Night!” before settling down under the covers. Sky rolled onto his side, his enormous back facing Lark. He had shared his bed with humans before, so the situation didn’t bother him. In his mind, as long as he stayed still while laying on the bed, she would be safe from getting crushed.

Lark, on the other hand, found it difficult to sleep. As comfortable as the gigantic pillow was for her, she couldn’t get over the fact that she was in bed with a giant man. She glanced over at his hulking, sleeping form, and sighed wistfully. She laid her head back and looked at the far away ceiling, longing for her own room that wasn’t so vastly oversized. The huge underground room was cold, even with the blanket covering her.

The woman shivered as the night went on. Sky seemed to be in a peaceful sleep, completely unmoving aside from the swelling of his breaths in his enormous lungs. His massive body did not seem bothered by the chill of the air, much unlike the little human on his pillow.

Lark, unable to sleep or to get warm, decided to crawl closer to the giant. She figured it would be warmer, though how close she was daring to get was still to be determined. The shivering little human slid off of one pillow and started climbing onto the next one, upon which rested Sky’s head.

In the darkness, Lark could make out the large, dark form of the back of the giant’s head. His sleek, black hair was hard to make out in the darkness, but it looked soft and warm; perfect for Lark to snuggle into.

The woman hesitated, however. As she scooted closer to Sky’s head, she looked up at the top of his skull, which was easily twice her height. Though he hadn’t moved at all tonight, what would become of her if he rolled onto his back? She’d be completely smothered, flattened against the pillow.

Lark nervously glanced around, scooting backwards to see more of the massive man. Any other part of his body would be just as dangerous to cuddle up against. She tried to imagine the best place to be on the sleeping giant; there had to be a place for her to get warm and also be safe from getting crushed.

As she was brainstorming the next step, she was startled when Sky suddenly spoke.

“Are you cold?” He rumbled without turning his head.

Lark scooted herself backwards. Was he awake this entire time? Or perhaps her small self woke up the giant by pitter-pattering around his head?

Regardless, she replied with a resigned “...yeah.” It was late, she was tired, and frankly had enough of scuttling on the oversized bed.

Sky smiled to himself. He had a hunch that Lark would eventually scoot her way closer to him overnight. As timid as she was around him, at least this meant that she wasn’t as terrified as their initial meeting.

The giant kept still as he reached up to his shoulder, bringing his hand into view of the little human beside his head. He beckoned her with his finger as he spoke. “Come on over here.”

Lark stared at his huge hand, fingers draped across his wide shoulder and steep neck above her head. Did he really intend for her to climb over him? His mountainous frame? The small woman opted to skirt around his huge head instead. Sky waited patiently for his little friend to make her way to his front, wobbling her way along the indents of the pillow. He laid still on his side and soon the blonde woman stepped in front of his vision, pushing her way past the fringe of his hair.

The two made eye contact for a moment, and Lark awkwardly looked away, taking in the length of his body laid out before her. His frame seemed even more vast, covered in an enormous, thick blanket.

“I’m sorry, I guess it is pretty cold in here for a human.” The titan uttered as he lifted his head up, adjusting his view so he could see her more clearly. “I just wasn’t sure how close you’d want to be to me.”

Lark hugged her shoulders as she stood under the giant’s gaze. She looked down at her feet as he spoke to her. “No, I appreciate it. Honestly, you’re… a lot more accommodating than I expected you to be. Like… not only are you huge, but you’re so… popular? It’s like all the people here know you, and here I am… a total stranger in your house.” She said quietly, unable to look the titan in the eye as she spoke.

Sky couldn’t help but chuckle. This was the closest look he had of Lark so far, and to him, she was quite cute. He liked her shy personality, even if it meant going slower with her than the usual humans he interacted with.

“Aww. I’m not really that popular, humans just like to be around titans.” Sky smirked at her. “Well, some do. Are you still scared of me?” His blue eyes were focused on the little human on his pillow.

“I… I don’t think so.” Lark said, still averting her gaze.

“Then…” Sky chuckled. “… feel free to come closer, and get warm.” The giant said softly as he raised his arm and gestured to himself.

Lark finally looked up to see the titan gesturing to his huge body, and her cheeks flushed. It was as if he was offering himself to her as a luxurious, heated bed.

“Um… ah…” She stammered, hesitating at the sight of his vast being. Where to even begin? She felt so vulnerable before him, and yet he was just laying there, presenting his huge and warm body. Her arms gripped her shoulders tighter in hesitancy.

“It’s okay. Just think of me as a big teddy bear.” The giant giggled and lowered his head back down on the pillow, watching her in amusement.

Lark nodded slightly, daring to take a step closer. She eyed his face, his chest, both so broad and imposing. If he truly was a giant stuffed bear, this would be no problem. But the fact that he was indeed a towering titan of a man made it hard for her to picture it.

Sky could see her hesitating, and had to stop himself from reaching out and pulling her close. He could tell that she wanted so badly to huddle up to him and warm her little body up, but having never encountered a titan so close before… perhaps she didn’t even know where to begin.

“Do you want a suggestion?” Sky asked her softly. “Crook of the neck.” The giant smiled as he tilted his chin to reveal his neck to the little human. “You can also just crawl into my shirt collar from there.” He patted the base of his neck invitingly.

Lark’s face got even more red as he did so. Never did she expect herself to be so close to a giant; even though she was really just getting warm, to her it was becoming something more than that.

“O-oh, um… okay.” She peeped and slowly made her way closer to the giant man’s neck. He was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, with a thick collar that hugged his neck and kept it very warm. Admittedly it all looked so comfortable, and Lark’s exhaustion and lack of warmth made her stumble forward and lean against Sky’s throat.

All was quiet as Sky practically held his breath, keeping himself still as his tiny friend adjusted her position. Lark’s curious little fingers touched his bare neck as she sighed happily, feeling his body heat permeate her senses. A smile crept on the giant’s lips, the fluttering of her bashful self against his sensitive throat made his chest warm.

“You’re so small…” The giant uttered in a breathy tone, mostly to himself. But Lark’s proximity to his larynx made her jolt.

“Excuse me…?” She squeaked, feeling the gentle rush of his breaths through his neck upon which she rested her head.

“I just. I dunno. You’re really small.” Sky uttered, her little body against his neck making him acutely aware of their difference in size.

“Are… are you just now realizing that, Sky?” Lark half-laughed, feeling very sleepy. His gentle breaths were very soothing to her ears.

“Kinda.” Sky said as he smiled and pulled his blanket up closer to his chin. “As much as when I picked you up off the floor earlier when you were an unconscious ragdoll.”

Lark’s eyes widened at his words. She suddenly imagined how she must have looked, limply draped across the giant man’s palm. The fact that she wasn’t even awake for that gave her mixed feelings.

“Ah…” She muttered, feeling her cheeks continue to warm. She was glad at least that he did pick her up, or else she wouldn’t be with him on his bed.

Sky giggled at her shy response. “I hope you can get some sleep at least. It’s really late.”

“I know… I’m really tired, but… I guess cuddling a giant is too interesting for me to fall asleep.” Lark admitted, taking care not to move around too much and tickle him.

“Aww. Well I couldn’t just let you freeze.” The titan chuckled. “I’m glad you snuck your way in here, though. Still not sure it was the best idea but...all things considered, I appreciate that you were so dedicated to setting things right.” Sky said sleepily. “Not that I was upset or anything to begin with, but I was hoping to get to know you after Jung introduced you to me. Especially after he told me that you’re new here.”

Lark listened to him speak, blushing a little when she realized that he was interested in her in some sort of way. She grabbed the collar of his hoodie and pulled it closer to her, pressing her back into his neck for warmth.

“Do you… bring humans into your bed often?” She asked timidly.

“Sometimes.” Sky chuckled, tucking his chin down and touching the top of her head with the bottom of his jaw. “It’s nice to have a little snuggle buddy. I’ve accepted the fact that being a titan means essentially becoming a warm bed for tinies.”

Lark giggled. This giant really was like a big teddy bear. She couldn’t believe she was scared of him before.

“Tinies… is that what you call us?” She asked softly, feeling her fatigue getting to her.

“Mmm, yeah, collectively you’re all just tiny little things. Tinies. It makes sense to me.” The giant yawned. “But tonight, you’re my tiny.” Sky uttered to the shy little woman in his collar.

Lark’s face, previously pink, suddenly turned red. His words of possessiveness caught her off guard.

“I… uh…” She stammered, gripping the edge of his collar tight. Never had she felt so small in her life. Despite being shorter in height than most people, the difference in size was nothing compared to this man’s mountainous form.

“Sorry, I’m mostly kidding.” The giant laughed. “I don’t want you to think that I’m trapping you here. I am enjoying your company, though.” Sky said as he reached up and stroked the edge of his collar beneath Lark.

“I-I am too…” She replied, feeling the rustle of his finger against the fabric. She took note of how careful he was being with her, especially with his hands. “This is all just so new to me… but I’m having a good time.”

“I’m glad… you know, I don’t know if you have any plans after the morning, but you can hang out with me if you want.” The giant uttered to the tiny human snuggled against him. “I got nothing going on. And again… you don’t take up much room in here.”

Lark gripped the end of his collar tightly as he spoke. She was having a hard time believing her luck. After having traveled all day to get to Horizon City per Jung’s request just to meet a titan at the party, only to end up in his massive bed with him at 2 in the morning. And now that he was asking her to stay longer, she had no reason to refuse.

“Wow, uh… that would be… that’s very nice of you, Sky.” She stammered.

“It’s no problem.” The giant rumbled sleepily. “Knowing Jung, I’m sure he’ll be busy anyways.”

“Yeah… admittedly it was his idea to get in your sneaker after the party.” Lark bit her lip, recalling their conversation after her exuberant friend found her in the bathroom.

“Of course. I knew it.” Sky sighed with knowing smile. “He would be the type to convince someone to climb my shoe. He’s done it himself multiple times.”

“Really? Yeah, that seems like him… but I don’t even really know what he does for work...” Lark peeped from the giant’s collar.

“Oh, he just… gets to know titans in ways most people wouldn’t.” The giant rumbled in amusement. Sky was surprised that his little friend hadn’t fallen asleep, yet.

“Wha…” Lark yawned, feeling her eyelids flutter, too tired to comprehend his words. She fought herself to stay awake, but the comforting heat of Sky’s neck coupled with his soft sweatshirt collar and rumbling breaths practically lulled her to sleep.

“I think it’s time for bed.” Sky chuckled as he slowly reached his fingers up towards his collar. “Are you comfortable where you’re at?” He asked the sleepy little person huddled against his neck.

“Mm… I am…” Lark mumbled as she glanced up at the vast expanse of the giant man’s neck. She couldn’t imagine a more pleasing amount of warm body heat around her, coupled with an endless expanse of clothing to snuggle into.

“Well… I’m not. I’m gonna roll onto my back, so just stay put.” The titan said softly as he pushed the tips of his fingers into his shirt collar where Lark was tucked into, gently securing her in place as he carefully angled himself from his position on his side to his back.

Lark blushed as she was gently but firmly held in place against the giant’s neck. Soon she was laying directly on top of him, rather than leaning against that expansive wall of flesh. She laid there, frozen in place, hearing Sky’s breaths rush through his windpipe as he sighed in satisfaction.

“Alright… that’s better. You just get yourself comfortable… I won’t move.” The titan rumbled as he laid his head back on the pillow and draped his arms across his stomach. Ideally he would have laid like this in the first place, after picking up the little human and placing them on his chest. But Lark was different… she seemed to have an aversion to those giant hands of his. Though it was tricky, Sky had no problem changing the way he interacted with Lark. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her, and to him, having her snuggled under his collar without picking her up was a job well done.

Lark’s tired eyes started to close. The giant’s words reassured her that she would be safe, and it had been such a long night. She reached down and grasped Sky’s jacket collar and pulled it up to her chin as she settled down on his neck and drifted to sleep without another word, pacified by the sounds of his low, deep heartbeat.

The two of them slept peacefully. As Sky promised, he slept on his back through the night, and by morning, Lark was still snuggled up where she fell asleep. The titan was the first to awaken, blue eyes flitting awake in the dark bunker.

“Mmm…” he mumbled as he blinked himself awake. He became aware of the tiny, warm body in his jacket collar, and realized that Lark was still sound asleep in the crook of his neck.

Sky smiled warmly and laid his head back gently. His chest rose and fell as he breathed, allowing himself a little more time to wake before turning the light on by his bed. He glanced down, trying to get a look at Lark. He could feel her tucked under his shirt, just above his collarbone, where his throat was softest… not moving, still very much asleep. The titan couldn’t see her from his point of view, as much as he tried.

He was quite pleased that she was still sleeping. The giant reached over slowly and flicked on his light, then decided to get up. Sky reached up to his collar and picked up the edge of it, folding it lightly on top of Lark. He pushed his fingers into her from the outside of the fabric and pinned her in place as he sat up on his bed.

Lark made a soft little noise as he did this, but still did not wake. Her tiny hands balled into fists and she nuzzled her face into Sky’s neck, which made the giant smile. He found her to be quite cute when she was asleep. His fingertips gently pushed against her middle, the two of them nearly half of her size.

The titan swung his legs over and stood up, feeling the need to stretch. However, with one hand keeping Lark in place, he could only alternate between the two arms as he raised one over his head, then replaced his hold on her in his collar before stretching the other one.

Sky then walked over to his countertop, which was quite bare. In fact, the giant did not have for himself food or dishes or silverware of any kind. He did, however, keep an array of human food on hand for his tiny guests.

The massive man kept his hold on Lark in his shirt as he bent down and glanced at what was essentially a miniature kitchen on the expansive countertop; fully functional with a fridge, stove, and cabinets.

“I wonder if I have anything that’s good…” Sky muttered as he peeked into the little fridge, spying some eggs, a carton of milk, and various condiments. He would have loved to cook breakfast for his little human friend before she woke up, but the ingredients were simply too small for him to handle. With eggs the size of pinheads, there would be nothing left of them if he decided to crack them between his fingers.

As he was looking over the miniature space, it was then that Lark finally stirred awake. Completely covered up by the giant’s collar, the little human awoke in darkness. Confused, she pushed out at the cloth surrounding her, feeling Sky’s enormous fingers on the outside securing her in place.

Oh, right. She was in a giant’s shirt. She had nearly forgotten this glaring detail, but just hearing the man’s deep breaths around her brought it to her attention.

“S-Sky?” Lark squeaked, flailing in the darkness of his hoodie. She was completely covered up, unable to see what was going on.

Sky glanced down and instinctively removed his hand from the collar, giving her room to breathe. “Hey, Lark… woop!” The giant exclaimed suddenly as the tiny woman, unaware quite yet that he was standing, started to slip down underneath his hoodie.

Lark let out a yelp of surprise as she slipped down, quite quickly, past the giant’s chest. The light above her disappeared as she was enveloped in layers of clothing, trapped between Sky’s hoodie and t-shirt. She felt like she could fall endlessly along the titan’s expansive body, but eventually a solid object came down upon her and halted her descent.

Sky clapped his hand against his belly, stifling a laugh as Lark nearly managed to tumble halfway down his jacket before he caught her. “Geeze!” He uttered as he cupped his hand around the wiggling little woman under his shirt. “I got you…”

Lark’s eyes were wide. “T-That’s one way to wake up…” She squeaked as she flipped herself upright, steadying herself by bracing against the titan’s stomach. Her heart pounded in her chest.

“You okay?” Sky asked as he held her in place, not daring to move. The last thing he needed was for her to fall further down and come out of the bottom of his shirt.

“Yeah… uh…” Lark uttered as she looked around. “How do I get out of here?” She asked timidly,

mind racing as she realized she was pinned in place.

“That won’t be a problem. As long as you let me hold you…” Sky said as he looked down at his middle. He kept his hand in place, doing his best to keep Lark calm. After all, she was quite literally trapped in his jacket.

“Oh… um, that’s fine.” The tiny woman could feel her heart pounding as she leaned forward against Sky’s stomach and gripped his shirt fabric. She wondered if the titan could feel her own, tiny heart, nearly jumping out of her skin.

He could, and the woman’s nervousness put him on edge. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he carefully reached under his shirt with his other hand, cupping it below Lark. He removed his other hand and let the little human drop down and land in his bare palm.

And just like that, Lark was in the hand of a giant. She tumbled down shortly and landed on her rear in the middle of a man’s hand that was easily twice her size. Her breath caught in her throat as Sky removed his hand from under his jacket and held her out in front of him. The giant looked down at her tentatively, watching her movements closely.

“… there you go.” Sky uttered cautiously, holding her as steady as he could. The little woman in his hand felt so warm, so light. One precious little life.

Lark shuddered, looking up at Sky. His chest filled her vision, a massive wall of a body spanning before her. Yet beneath her, the man’s hand was steady. The woman’s hands gripped Sky’s palm as she glanced around her, with the giant’s fingers at her back and his enormous thumb beside her.

She was utterly speechless. This weightless sensation, her entire being suspended in the air, held aloft effortlessly by this titanic being… it was overwhelming, to put it lightly.

“U-uhhh…” She shuddered, blue eyes as wide as dinner plates as her whole self was laid out before the massive man, who eyed her closely. She had spent the night sleeping on top of him, and yet… in his hand, all she could feel was small.

“It’s alright.” Sky uttered suddenly, making Lark jolt. “I won’t drop you.” His face softened as he brought his other hand up and cupped it underneath, securing his hold even more.

Lark bit her lip as she took in his words. His gentle, reassuring words… though she wasn’t even sure if that was what she was afraid of, or if she was truly afraid at all.

“It’s just… you’re so big…” The woman uttered as she covered her face in her hands. She was starting to feel faint again, just taking in the sight of Sky from his palm.

“I am…�� Sky said in agreement, peering at the nervous little lady. “Does it scare you?” He asked, unsure of what kind of response he was expecting. She was clearly apprehensive about the whole situation.

Lark peeked out at him through her fingers. His face, though gigantic, was gentle. He looked as though he enjoyed holding her in his hands, despite her uneasiness.

“Well… no…” She uttered, gazing up at the titan. “I’m not really sure what to think, to be honest… I’m not scared, I’m just… wow.” Lark said with uncertainty. “Like… you’re just holding me... everything I am fits in the palm of your hand.”

Sky tilted his head at her curiously. “Oh? I suppose that’s true…” the titan moved her closer to his face, cupping her in his hands softly. “But that’s just what it is… you’re like a little treasure.” The giant said quietly, unable to stop himself from smiling at his own mushy words.

Lark stared at him as he spoke, feeling rather touched by what he said. “A treasure…?” She uttered softly as she returned his gaze, feeling her chest flutter. She couldn’t quite tell if this was the titan’s way of flirting, or if he meant it more literally. Nevertheless, as he lifted her up closer to his face, Lark couldn’t stop herself from blushing. She just hoped that she was too small for him to notice it on her cheeks.

Sky could feel her tense up in his hand as he said this. He let out an awkward chuckle as he narrowed his gaze. “Y-yeah. Something delicate, yet priceless. You being so small only makes it… makes you more of a precious little thing.” The giant rumbled as he attempted to explain his choice of words.

Lark’s face flushed even more. It was clear that the titan had a fondness for her and her tiny self. She averted her gaze now, looking down at her feet as she fiddled with her fingers in the giant’s palm.

Sky could see how shy she was getting, and he couldn’t help himself from smiling. He brought her even closer to his face, studying her features. Her bright golden hair was cut short, but it came down around her cheeks and framed her face. She was small, with thin arms and legs. She looked to be shorter than a typical adult, as much as Sky could tell. And her shyness made her all the more adorable to behold, the way her blue eyes fluttered as she looked down at her feet and up at his face.

The titan tilted his head at her, his own bright blue eyes seemed to glow on their own. Lark returned his gaze shyly, tensing up as he stared at her.

“You’re cute.” Sky said to her suddenly, and Lark’s fingers immediately gripped into the giant’s palm.

“Wh… huh?” Lark stammered, feeling her face flush even more red. “I am… I mean… you think so?”

Sky nodded, closing his eyes as he did so. He gazed at her fondly, the adorable little woman in his hand. “Yes. You’re adorable.” The giant chuckled.

Lark was speechless. Never in her life did she think she would be in this situation, held so close to a giant man’s face, complimented by him. As she dared to look back at him, she realized Sky was rather cute, too.

She fiddled with her fingers a little longer, speechless. She wasn’t sure if she should accept his compliment as it was, or assume that this was him coming-on to her.

“So…” Sky said as he looked directly at the little woman in his hand. “First off, you should give me your number, so I can call your phone and help you find it again.” The titan quirked his brow at her. “Secondly, you should give me your number anyways. If you want. I’m thinking we go out for lunch later, what do you say?”

Lark bit her lip as she looked up at the giant. She had completely forgotten about her lost phone in the midst of all… this.

“Y-yeah… I would like that, Sky.” She said, blushing, still not quite comprehending all of this completely. Did she really pull a titan by being a ditz who literally fell down his shirt? The giant smiled, blue eyes shining with delight at her response. He then leaned forward and stretched out his cupped hand, showing his little lady friend the human-sized kitchen on his countertop.

“Great! Feel free to make yourself breakfast, though.” Sky said as he tilted his palm so Lark could step off of it. “How are you feeling, by the way? Sleep well?” The giant asked as he peered at her and the tiny kitchen.

Lark stepped off Sky’s hand and looked around the countertop kitchen. She was amazed that he would even think to have such a thing installed in his house.

“I’m good, actually… I thought maybe I’d have a hangover this morning but… maybe sleeping on a titan fixed that.” Lark replied to Sky half-jokingly as she peered into the fridge.

“You’re right about that. I can heal you just by touching you.” Sky beamed as he leaned over and watched Lark look around the kitchen.

Lark looked back at the giant, then touched the back of her head. He was right, she had almost completely forgotten that she had fainted last night and hit her head on the floor. Sky must have taken care of it quick enough for her to even remember getting hurt after passing out.

“That’s really handy, I gotta say… does it work for everything? Like, hereditary diseases?” Lark asked him curiously as she took out a loaf of bread and some butter.

“Um. I’d have to test that. You don’t happen to have any hereditary diseases, do you Lark?” The giant had to stifle a laugh as he asked her.

“No… I don’t think so.” Lark giggled as she made herself a plain piece of bread with butter to munch on. She was too excited to eat much else.

“That’s good… well, once we find your phone, I should get you back to your hotel so you can freshen up, huh?” The giant said as he leaned in close to Lark, a big smile on his face as she stood beside the fridge and clutched her bread with wide eyes. “If you will let me hold you, that is.” He winked at her.

Lark stared up at the giant’s face, feeling the warmth of his breath as he leaned close to her. She nodded at him, taking another bite of her breakfast. “Mmhm! T-that’s no problem.” The little woman said bravely to her 130 foot tall date.

She knew this was going to be the most memorable first date she’ll ever have.

[em-prentiss]

to leave the warmest bed I've ever known

-----

She lets go of his wrist and gently runs her fingers through his hair like she’s always thought of doing, just once, to see how it feels. It’s soft in her hand, dark as night against her skin, and Emily smiles. Aaron’s eyes flutter closed.

Or, it’s JJ’s wedding, and Aaron knows Emily is leaving. He tries to stop it.

Word count: 2k

-----

Her hand is so soft. He’d never held it fully in his like this before, only soft brushes of her palm against his or the meeting of their fingertips as she passed him a bottle of water. His thumb absentmindedly runs over her knuckles, something he’s unaware of, something that makes her cheeks heat.

They’re closer than they’ve ever been before. His hand is warm on her lower back, urging her closer, right up against his chest, and hers is on his shoulder, gripping the material of his jacket between her fingers to stop herself from sliding her hand into his soft looking hair.

They move with an easy, practiced rhythm; similar to the way they move in the field, in sync more often than not. It makes Aaron smile. “You’re a good dancer,” he says, his mouth right at her ear, and she smiles. “Of course I am,” Emily declares, “I’m an ambassador’s daughter. I attended balls in my sleep.”

“I remember.” He murmurs, and those two words make her close her eyes and tighten her grip on his fingers.

He’d been a security guard at her mother’s estate and she’d been a bored college student home for the summer. She had teased him lightly, gone out of her way to see him before she left for yet another bar, another outing with her friends. She’d always been drawn to him—and him to her—but he was engaged to Haley so nothing happened, and perhaps that’s the biggest shame of it all.

“You never asked me to dance,” she muses, her voice low. “I’m still very offended by that.” Emily looks up at him and smiles, the tight corners of it fading for the first time that night.

“If it makes you feel better, I wanted to,” he says, and she raises her brows in disbelief. His hand moves to settle on the curve of her waist. “God, I did, Emily. You looked so beautiful.”

She ducks her head in embarrassment, her cheeks heating as his words. She remembers that night, when her mother was hosting yet another one of her mind numbing parties. He’d been standing guard near the door and she felt his burning gaze on her all night, caressing the bare skin exposed by her red dress as she danced with man after man her mother threw at her.

“Did I?” Her lips curve into a smile and he sees the indent of her dimple in her cheek. Aaron has to force his gaze back to her eyes to stop himself from doing something stupid, like kissing her. 

But that’s a mistake too. Her eyes are warm and beautiful, the tiny pinpricks of light above them melting into her irises. He sinks into them, falls deeper than he has already. “You looked pretty okay, I guess,” she teases. 

Emily is rewarded by the sound of his warm laugh against her ear. Her heart skips at the sound and she holds her breath, wishing she could just trap herself in this moment. Her and him, so close together she can feel the heat of his body through her dress.

Aaron looks down at her as she suddenly grows silent, her eyes unfocused. He swallows tightly. She’s been that way ever since she arrived, the look in her eyes thinly veiled with a distracting smile. It scares him, that look, because he knows her well enough by now to know this means she’s going to run. Again. It’s something he can’t even bear the though of.

“What are you thinking?” He whispers, keeping his voice low so it doesn’t break. 

She doesn’t hear him, still replaying his laugh over in her head, shoving aside other memories to make room for it. She knows she’ll need it, something warm to soothe the cold ache of London. 

Aaron’s throat tightens. “Emily.” He squeezes her waist, and her gaze snaps to his. 

“Hm? Sorry, could you repeat that?” She laughs lightly. It’s as terrifying as it is impressive that she’s able to hide her emotions so well. 

He doesn’t laugh back. Emily swallows, the desperate way he’s looking at her finally registering in her brain. He knows. 

She almost laughs, because of course he does.

“What were you thinking about?” He rasps out, tightening his hold on her when her her eyes widen in panic. Don’t run, he pleads. Not now. 

Emily’s heart slams in her chest and she licks her dry lips. “What?” He asks softly, ever persistent, even though he desperately doesn’t want her to answer because he knows what she’ll say.

She forces out a dry chuckle, “That stack of paperwork on my desk,” she looks at him pleadingly, silently begging him to play along. “Though I’m sure yours-”

“Leaving.” He cuts her off roughly. Emily shakes her head and drops her gaze, feeling the press of tears in the back of her throat, all too familiar lately ever since her return.

They’re not even dancing anymore, Emily thinks as she surveys the other pairs on the dance floor. They’re just moving aimlessly, his hand still on her waist and hers on his shoulder; a ruse for them to touch each other, because they never have before, not like this.

Aaron’s heart drops straight to his feet. He bends down to meet her gaze, a sheen in her eyes that matches the one in his. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he begs. Emily looks away, her throat tight as she swallows. 

“Hotch..” She trails off. The song is over and she tries to slip her hand from his grip, but he doesn’t let her go. She can see Morgan approaching, chasing after her for another dance because he knows it’ll be her last, too. Emily tugs her hand harder and he lets go, his palm dropping from her waist. 

Her hand is unbearably cold at her side. She wraps her shawl tighter around her body, suppressing a shiver and avoiding Aaron’s gaze as she walks past him.

For a moment he’s frozen as she takes Morgan’s hand, her tight smile back on her lips. Aaron moves without feeling it, approaching them and placing a hand on Morgan’s shoulder, halting their dance.

“Sorry, would you mind if I stole Emily for this song? It’s my favorite,” he says hoarsely, the mindless lie slipping through his teeth.

Morgan takes one look at him and glances at Emily, clocks in the expressions on their faces and lets go of her. “Sure, man.” He says softly, the desperate look in Hotch’s eyes telling him he knows, too.

“Save me the next one, princess.” He smiles as he walks away. She nods wordlessly, looking after him as he approaches Penelope, feeling Aaron’s burning gaze on her.

Emily doesn’t dare look at him. “I need some water,” she says quietly, bolting before he can reply. He wonders for a minute if he should leave her alone, give her some space; they did have a date tomorrow. But he thinks of the look in her eyes, her skittishness, and he’s not sure he can trust she’ll stay another day. 

She’s gone, already disappeared into the house, and just the absence of her in this moment makes his heart clench. Aaron follows her into the kitchen. She’s turned away from him, her dark head bent as she looks down. 

He stands in front of her, bends his head down to meet her eyes. “Why, Emily?” He whispers.

“Stop it, Aaron.”

He’s stunned into silence, his name on her tongue halting him in his tracks.

“Stop.” She whispers, tears finally rolling down her cheeks. She wipes them off roughly. “You know damn well why.”

Her voice is ragged, defeated, and Aaron feels his heart drop.

“Garcia still looks at me like I’m about to disappear. Reid,” her voice trembles and she clenches her hands into fists. “Reid doesn’t trust me anymore.” A sob escapes her lips and she turns away, looks at the floor. “He won’t talk to me, he won’t even look me in the eye. He flinched when I hugged him the other day.” Emily presses her palms against her eyes in an attempt to staunch her tears, but the dam’s been broken. It’s every hurt she hadn’t let herself feel since she got back, every paper thin cut they’ve unknowingly inflicted on her, and she’s finally bleeding out.

Tears burn in the back of Aaron’s throat as he watches her tremble, shaking like a leaf before his eyes. “Emily..” he moves closer to her but stops shy of actually touching her, though his hands twitch at his sides.

She removes her palms and looks at him through blurry eyes. Emily blinks the tears away and feels the heat travel down her cheeks and drip off her chin.

“Nothing fits, Aaron,” she says hoarsely, her voice cracking. “I don’t fit. I ruined it all.” She whispers brokenly, looking into his eyes and allowing him to see this side of her, because even through her hurt she knows he’d understand.

“No, Emily,” he refutes firmly. He slowly moves closer, and when she doesn’t shy away he wraps her tightly in his arms, his forehead pressed to her hair. She clutches him tightly, her nails digging into his shirt so hard she’s surprised it doesn’t tear. Emily stuffs her face in his warm neck and shakily breathes in. He’s so familiar; the scent of his cologne and the feel of his body against hers, though they’ve never done this before. 

“You didn’t ruin it, sweetheart,” he soothes, his hand rubbing her trembling back, feeling her sharp breaths staccato against his neck.

“Didn’t I?” She laughs bitterly. She ignores the nickname he called her, because she knows if she doesn’t he’d somehow make her stay. And she can’t do that.

“No.” He pulls back to look at her, cupping her face to gently force her watery gaze on his. “It’s not your fault, Emily,” he says, but he knows his words have no effect on her. She’s set in her decision, they both know that, but he can’t help but try.

“Sure,” she wipes her wet cheeks and looks up at him, holding one of his wrists. “Thank you for saying that.” She smiles softly, the realest one he’d seen all night. She doesn’t believe him, but she gets some peace knowing he does.

“I mean it,” Aaron grits out roughly, feeling her slip through his fingers. “Don’t go, Emily. It’ll get better, I swear it will.” He whispers, his thumb stroking her cheek, catching a final tear leaking out from the corner of her eye.

Emily shakes her head, “I can’t stay, Aaron.” She lets go of his wrist and gently runs her fingers through his hair like she’s always thought of doing, just once, to see how it feels. It’s soft in her hand, dark as night against her skin, and Emily smiles. Aaron’s eyes flutter closed. He leans into her touch, just savoring the feeling of her hand when she pulls away. He opens his eyes.

“You’re the only one who didn’t make me feel different,” she whispers, her eyes shining. “Thank you for that.”

She pulls away, lets his hands fall from her face, and it feels so much like goodbye—because it is—he almost sinks to his knees.

“Don’t go.” He says quietly, a last futile attempt at keeping her with him. Emily smiles sadly, her heart twisting at the rasp in his voice, the slightest sheen of tears in his eyes.

“I have to.”

She adjusts her wrap around her body and wipes away any lingering tears, mentally making a note to hide for a few minutes in the bathroom, let the redness of her eyes and cheeks fade.

He watches her turn his back on him and walk away, like she’s done so many times before. 17 years ago, 8 months ago, and now; like a cycle they can’t stop themselves from repeating.

“I love you.” Aaron whispers when she’s at the doorway. 

Emily stops, closing her eyes against another onslaught of tears. She swallows against the lump in her throat. “I know.” Her voice is thick and low, trembling the slightest bit, just like the line of her shoulders.

Aaron closes his eyes as she walks away, unable to see it one more time.

[anmarifromearth]

Chapter 9: When Plans Work Too Well

Note: You can read the finished version on Quotev, but for Tumblr, I'd like to upload the chapters one by one.

WC: 1.5 K -- Masterlist -- featuring art by @amalthiaph

Charles and I sat at one corner of the long thick wooden table at the dining hall. I sat straight, both hands on the table. Charles was positioned the same. There were a few students at the table with us.

I hate it when plans work too well.

We just decided to watch video later with Zach. He has to be here for the reveal. Also, I am not ready to see what happened yet. Given the state Charles is in—far from his usual lively and loud self—I think it is well within the parameters of strange.

Like after dinner time, the hall was filled with perhaps around forty students, spread across the ten long tables. I also noticed that the staff use the weekend to clean the school; right now, two men were on ladders, cleaning the tall windows. Both men and women, in uniforms, pass along the tables with linens tucked in their arms. Contrary to my expectations, the dining hall is a lot noisier today. 

I cleared my throat to break the silence, “Has-has Zach texted back?”

Five seconds went past. It was only then that Charles looked at his phone to check. “Uhh,” he began. He’s still shook, I know. “He said he’s entering the school grounds.”

“That’s great.”

It wasn’t long until Zach entered the doors. Or I guess it was long. We were just too shaken to feel the time. 

Zach was panting. He held on to the table for support. I guess he hurried back excited. “All right,” he panted, “What do you want me to see?”

Charles laid his phone on the table, the object making a slight thud on the wooden table. He opened the gallery and played the video. We all hovered over it. Zach was smiling from the excitement. His eagerness towards this is really strange.

It was all dark but the passage is clearer as we had removed the cobwebs the first time we went inside. Soon, the skeleton was in sight. It laid across the passage.

It pains me more now as I had seen that man when he was alive. I even saw him get killed.

We both came to a stop in front of the skeleton. The camera pans out to the ground.

I remember this. Charles and I said a prayer.

Charles said our little prayer to the skeleton. When it was over, I was shown kneeling in front of it. I slowly reached out to touch the skeleton. I gasped. We stopped to check if someone heard me. When we were both sure we weren’t, the camera went back to me and the skeleton.

I reached out my hand and carefully pulled out the silver club-shaped object. “Do you have any idea what it is?” I asked as I hold it near to the camera. “No,” Charles whispered, “Here, let me take a closer look.”

“Hold on,” I said as I started to sit up. put the object in the camera. The flash made it glimmer. I looked back at the skeleton.

Then, I slowly turned into smoke.

Zach stood up from his seat. Charles looked away. And I froze in complete horror. I watched as I fully vanished into thin air.

“Iris?” Charles said. “IRIS!” He was shouting now. He spun, shone his flashlight everywhere, and walked everywhere near the skeleton. He kept on calling out my name.

He checked out every turn, including the one where I hid at. “Crap, what is happening?” Panic is very much evident in his voice. “IRIS!”

“Okay, the plan works, but it worked too well. What the hell am I going to tell Zach? I’ll just tell him ‘hey, we found this tiny shiny object and now Iris has vanished’.

“I would choose detention over this any day. What would I tell Mr. Philipps? ‘Hey, we went inside the passages even if you told us not to and now Iris has turned into smoke’.”

Charles turned. On the other side of the passage on which the skeleton lies, I was starting to materialize from smoke. I was crying. As soon as I fully transformed back, I fell back. I was muttering really fast it was barely understandable.

I remember I was saying sorry to the man who unfortunately died.

The video went off.

We are at the same café Zach and I went to. Knowing how revealing the next conversation would be and the fact that there are probably students spying on us, we all decided to hold our meeting outside of the school. We did the same technique; we all go to different places and “run into” each other. Much to Zach's delight, the café was busier, noisier, and easier to hide our conversations. I can see some familiar faces and some I assume live in the town nearby. 

“So, the skeleton isn’t Christina's,” Zach began, “It was a man’s whom Iris saw get killed by another man. And when Iris disappeared, it was because she got transported into the past.”

“And,” Charles continued for him, “It only happened when she touched this”. He placed the silver object on the table.

Zach took it to examine it closely. “This thing,” he put it over my face, “Has allowed you to time travel.” He looked at me. “Do it again.”

“WHAT?” Charles and I said in unison.

“Come on, Iris,” Zach said, “This thing caused you to time travel and so you saw how that skeleton got killed. In what you saw, Christina is still alive. This would be our way to find out how she got killed and give her the justice she so desires.”

This is ridiculous. However, it is worth a try. I owe it to Christina. I opened my palm but not before rolling my eyes. Zach placed the object on my hand. I grasped it and closed my eyes. I thought deeply. No, I wasn’t thinking of anything. I just closed my eyes and concentrated.

I continued to do so until I heard silence. I slowly opened my eyes.

I saw Zach and Charles staring at me. “Nope,” I began. “It didn’t work this time.”

I heard both of them groan as they looked away. “Ugh,” Zach began. “What’s different this time? The last time you touched that, you got transported to the past. Why isn’t it working now?”

“Hey,” Charles cut in. “Don’t pressure her. We don’t even know if it’s really this.” He took the object from my hand. “We don’t even know what this is.”

Zach took it from his hand. He carefully examined the object. He turned it upside down so now it looks like a upside-down clover. “Wait a second,” he began as he pushed the object to the middle of the table. “Look at this.”

At the top of the heart, in between the “V” groove, was what used to be the “stem” of the club. In the stem was a hole with a thread, like in a screw. “Something goes here,” Zach traced the thread with his hand. “This object is just a part of something bigger.”

I flashed back to what I saw in the past. I remember that object Christina was clutching. It may be that. Or whatever this silver object is a part of, Christina had its pieces. “I remember,” I began, “Christina was clutching something wrapped in a white fabric. I was thinking it may be the other pieces. One must have fallen off while running and the man picked it up. That’s why he had it.”

Zach pondered at my words for a few minutes. He tapped his fingers on his temples as he processed the thoughts. “What happened next?”, he finally spoke.

I once again thought back to what I saw last night. The man told Christina and the others to run. That’s right, he did. If I remember correctly, they went to the farthest left turn. “They ran to the end of the passage,” I began, “And turned a left.”

Zach tapped the table, “That’s it.”

Charles and I both looked up at him.

“We follow where they went,” Zach continued, “And try to find the other pieces.”

Charles started to speak, “Maybe,” he began. Zach and I both looked at him. For some reasons, Charles has been silent for a few minutes, something he doesn’t normally do, especially after a discovery like this. He took a quick look around, maybe to check for possible eavesdroppers, before whispering his next words, “This has something to do with Christina’s death. Charles crossed his hands over the table, “Breadcrumbs,” he began in the most serious tone I had ever heard him speak. Confused, Zach raised his eyebrow on him while I shrugged. “You said she was holding something, right? And it’s probably the rest of this,” he took the object, “And that man swore to never tell the bad guy where went. That’s because they were going to hide it. And Christina was one of them. We find the pieces, we find Christina. Our breadcrumbs. Like Hansel and Gretel." 

[whoficky]

Love Lost and Found - Chapter 2/2

Rating: G

Pairing: 10th Doctor X Rose Tyler

Warnings: Major character death

Work Summary: The Doctor manages to make his way across the void to Pete's world, but what he finds is nothing like what he expected.

Chapter summary: Sometimes the Doctor does look back. Sometimes he is brave enough to say goodbye.

Chapter 2

Rose hardly had time to get over the shock of that beautiful blue box materializing in her living room before the doors were opening and a tiny pink and yellow blur shot out towards her.  Instinctively, Rose bent down to meet the toddler and like she’d done it a thousand times before, she whisked the giggling child up in her arms. As the little girl, who could only be a future version of the child growing inside of her, set a hand on either side of Rose’s face and opened a link between their minds, a hundred swirling thoughts fought for her attention.  

It was all swept away when the girl laughed in delight at their telepathic connection and sang, “Hi Mummy!” in both word and thought.

“Oh my little girl!” Rose choked out before wrapping her daughter in a tight hug and resting her forehead on her daughters so that their noses just barely brushed.  Then a pair of strong arms was rapped around them both, and Rose knew it was her Doctor finally come for her.

“Rose,” he whispered with an undercurrent of desperation as he nuzzled into her hair, breathing her in just like she was taking in his comforting scent.  “Rose.”

They were both crying.  She felt his tears in the drops on her shoulder and the hitches in his breath.  Rose knew that the only reason she wasn’t full out sobbing was that she didn’t want to upset the daughter who was giggling with the joy of touching both her parent’s minds.  A daughter that Rose had long worried she wouldn’t be strong enough to bring into this world.  She wondered if the Doctor was similarly restraining his expression of emotions.

When the roaring in her ears finally dimmed and she felt she had somewhat of a handle on herself she pulled back just enough to look into the eyes of the man she loved and asked the question that could not wait, “How long do we have?”

For when her swirling thoughts settled, she’d realized he wasn’t here to rescue her as she had first hoped.  Not with their child who hadn’t been born yet for her.  The timelines wouldn’t have allowed it.  

No, the two people she loved most in the world were here to say goodbye.  Because Rose was suddenly certain that in their future, she was already gone.  She’d feared such a fate for herself for several weeks now, what with Dr. Harper endlessly frowning over her test results and the ever weakening state of her body.  But eclipsed by her own declining health had been the fear that the child she carried would also be lost.  Now, as she held her healthy daughter, she knew her worst fear at least would not happen.  She thanked every deity she could think of for that, even as she railed against her own impending death that would separate them.  

“Two and a half hours,” the Doctor’s rough voice answered her, confirming that this was just another tearful goodbye.

Rose’s gut twisted, but she found herself letting out a short shaky laugh, “Don’t know what I was thinking’.  Whatever you said wouldn’t have been long enough.”

The Doctor with his sad, ancient eyes, moved a hand to cup her cheek and agreed, “No.  Nothing short of forever,” he said.  Then his eyes narrowed, “Don’t you have a lifting restriction?”

Rose laughed again, this time with less irony, “Oh.  I guess you’re right,” she turned her focus to her daughter and bounced her a bit on her hip to elicit a burst of giggles from the little girl, “I hadn’t even thought I could lift anything heavier than a can of peas anymore.  Guess I was just waiting for the right incentive.” 

“Ah, yes, this one is very good at getting her way,” he grinned at their…blimey, their daughter. “Still, I think the sofa is just as good of a place for mummy hugs, right Abigail?”

“Uh-huh,” little Abby agreed seriously, as if it were a very important decision.

The Doctor took a reluctant Abby from Rose’s arm, promising to give her back once they were all seated.  As her daughter’s telepathic link dimmed with the lack of contact, Rose found herself swaying on her feet, the familiar dizziness that hat plagued her lately reasserting itself now that the adrenaline was starting to fade.  Deftly, the Doctor adjusted Abby so he was holding her one-armed, and wrapped his other around Rose’s waist to steady her.

“Easy, there,” he said softly, concern evident in his voice.

Rose looked up apologetically but gratefully leaned against him in the short walk to the sofa.  Coming together like pieces of a puzzle, her small family was snuggled together in short order.  Rose leaned against the Doctor’s chest with his arm a comforting weight cupping her shoulder.  Little Abby, bundle of wiggles that she was, crawled back and forth from one parent’s lap to another.  

“Daddy AND Mummy!  Daddy AND Mummy” the little girl sang, and Rose’s heart constricted painfully that her daughter would only have this one day with both of her parents.

“Easy there, Totsie” the Doctor laughed as he tried to calm her.

“Totsie?” Rose asked him with a raised eyebrow, glad for a distraction from the larger circumstances that brought them together for just this moment.

“Er…yeah.  Gallifreyan children were sometimes called Time Tots.  So, Totsie just sort of…happened,” he said, as if only just realizing how silly the nickname sounded.

Rose laughed, “Makes about as much sense as I expected.”  Then she brought her arms around Abby, caging her into a place on Rose’s lap, “Oh no you don’t Totsie!  You’re all mine now!”  Abby shrieked with laughter as Rose peppered her with kisses and made valiant attempts to break out of “Mummy cage.”

The three of them wrestled and snuggled, tickled and laughed until Rose’s breathlessness turned into wheezing coughs.  The Doctor stopped the offensive he and Abby had teamed up for immediately, scrambling to kneel in front of Rose with one hand on each of her knees.

“What can I do, love?” he asked, fearful even though he must know through future knowledge that this cough wouldn’t kill her.  Well, at least not yet.  She pushed the thought aside, and easy enough feat with her brain getting fuzzy from lack of oxygen.  

“Inhaler,” she managed to croak, “On the kitchen table.”

With a nod, the Doctor went to fetch the fancy device Torchwood had whipped up for her disguised as a regular inhaler.  Abbie, changing moods as quickly as her father, snuggled up to Rose and sent waves of calm and strength through the telepathic connection she opened.  Rose basked in it, and managed a shaky smile at her daughter.  Internally, she was marveling at this remarkable creature that was part hers and part the Doctor’s and yet completely her own person as well.  

The little time she’d known her daughter was in part mitigated by the complete opens of a telepathic bond.  Rose had deeply missed this connection with the Doctor and now cherished the bond with her daughter for unique reasons.  Through it, Rose could see the swirling blues of Abby’s mind, the cheekiness and stubbornness and the loneliness of the first two years of her life without anyone to make a mental connection with.  Each second they were connected, Rose learned more about her daughter.  The sound of Rose’s raspy breath, and the fear that always came with needing more air than she was getting faded to the background as Rose soaked up all she could.  She learned that her daughter adored the Doctor and loved when he taught her about being a Time Lady, although she could do without the advanced algebra he was trying to teach her.   Abigail was most certainly not a math person.  She did however like building things and already would help her father tinker with the TARDIS.  And boy did she love the Old Girl.  The feeling was mutual if Abby’s elaborately themed nursery was anything to go by.  And Abbie’s favorite color was bluish-purple, and she loved Jackie’s shepherds pie, and…and…

“Easy there,” the Doctor’s soft voice broke through the flood of information, “Mummy’s human, remember?  And she needs her medicine.”

Rose took a moment to let her eyes focus once Abby had sheepishly pulled back from the link until it was just a pleasant hum in the back of Rose’s mind.  Then, she gratefully took the inhaler out of the Doctor’s hand and took in a few puffs.  In seconds, she felt the welcome sensation of her lungs relaxing and welcoming the air that had been choking her before.

“Thanks,” she smiled tiredly once she could speak.  “And Abby love, don’t listen to your father.  Mummy may be only human, but that doesn't mean her brain is gunna boil with a little telepathy.  It was lovely getting to know you, sweetheart.”

Abby, who’s lip had been trembling at her father’s rebuke, beamed and snuggled back into Rose’s lap.

“You’ll spoil her,” the Doctor warned good naturally.

“Naw, that’ll be your job,” Rose said it with a light voice, but couldn’t hold back the undertone of deep sadness that she wouldn’t be there to help raise their child.  When the Doctor’s face fell, she wished she hadn’t said anything.

“C’mere,” she entreated, patting the space next to her.  He sat down and held her perhaps just a little too close as they settled back in to talk about their lives and all the wonderful places the Doctor would take their little girl.

The time passed by far too quickly.  There had been moments that were so full of joy and love that it was easy to believe they could go on like this forever; the three of them together and happy in a blissful mix of domestic and adventure.  But the ebbs of time had a different plan for them.  One that would take her from her family far too soon.  Rose knew what a gift this brief time with them was, and yet she couldn't help railing against the injustice that it would not, could not last.  

With a forty minutes to go, Abby’s eyes grew heavy and her head lolled on her little neck.

“Well I think it’s someone’s bedtime,” the Doctor smiled at the sleepy little girl.

“Mummy’s?” Abby asked, and there was the cheek showing itself again.

They all laughed appreciatively at the two-year-old’s humor.  “No, sweetheart, I think he means you,” Rose booped her daughter’s nose.

“But how about we both tuck you in tonight?” the Doctor said softly, both joy and pain in his voice.

Abby nodded emphatically, and so it was settled.

The Doctor carried the sleepy girl with one arm and clasped Rose’s hand tightly with the other as he led both of them to the TARDIS.

Rose only barely held in a sob when she stopped outside the Old Girl’s blue doors to stroke the wood and fish the key from around her neck.  Rose had felt the presence of the TARDIS in her head ever since they had landed, but it bloomed as she stepped over the threshold of the place she would always consider home.  

“Oh look at you, beautiful ship,” she whispered, walking over to stroke the console.  After a deep humming, Rose replied, “I’ve missed you too.  Thank you for bringing them to me.”

Then the Doctor was at her side, his cool hand caressing up and down her back.  She took a moment to lean into him and fix this moment in her mind.  Then her wobbly legs let her know she ought to seek out somewhere to sit sooner rather than later.

Abby’s nursery was just two doors down from the console room and Rose caught her breath at seeing the room in person.  “Oh, she outdid herself this time,” Rose said approvingly.

“Yeah, Abbie loves it,” the Doctor agreed.

“TARDIS the best!” Abbie chimed in.

They converged on the child-sized four poster bed to tuck the sleepy girl in for the night.  The Doctor set Abby down on the impossibly soft bed, but let Rose do the tucking in.  Abby did not hold back showing Rose exactly how the covers went and how to line up all her many stuffed animals so that they would protect her from any closet Absorbaloffs.  At that, Rose sent a glare in the Doctor’s direction that clearly showed her distaste for his choice in what bedtime stories he’d told their daughter.  

Rose snuggled in the bed along side her daughter with the Doctor folding his lanky form to sit in a small chair on her other side.  They each read Abby a story, and Rose finished the short book even though her daughter’s soft snores filled the room by page five.  For a while, they just stayed there, unwilling to move, unwilling to face the future and imminent separation.

“I wish it could go on forever like this,” Rose said tearfully, unable to hold back her emotion now that Abby was asleep.

“Oh Rose,” the Doctor breathed before gathering her in his arms, “If there was anything I could do, anything, you know I would.”

“Course,” Rose looked up into his face and brushed away a tear that was making it’s way down his cheek.  At a happy sigh from Abby, Rose looked back down at her sleeping daughter and ran a hand through her silky brown hair.  “She’s perfect.”

“Oh yes,” the Doctor breathed.

“I’ve been so worried, that I wouldn’t be strong enough, that I couldn’t bring her into this world, that I would fail you both.” Rose’s voice cracked.  Before the Doctor could address that, she went on, “But, Oh Doctor, she’s here.  And she’s healthy and happy, and just perfect.  A little person made from you and me.  Someone to stay with you for your forever.”

“Yes,” the Doctor croaked, and she knew he was fighting to reign in his emotion.

She turned to where he was seated and laced her fingers through his, “Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me?” he said incredulously, “Rose, this was all you.  This was you fighting for months for her, for sacrificing everything, for…”

“And this was also you,” she countered, “fighting through impossible to get to her before you even knew she existed, rising to the occasion even though I know you must have been terrified to be a dad again, taking care of her and loving her, bringing her here so that I could meet her, so she could meet me.  No, Doctor, she’s ours.  She’s brilliant and beautiful and ours.”

At his silence she asked cheekily, “So you concede then?”

He laughed softly, “I suppose I do.”

She nodded, satisfied.

“We don’t have long,” the Doctor said while opening a telepathic connection to send her a picture of their room.

Rose nodded, understanding his intention.  They wouldn’t have time and she didn’t have the energy to do what she really wanted with him there, but just being in that sacred place suddenly seemed very important.  But first, she had to say her first goodbye.

She reached over to trace her daughters features, trying to memorize everything about the small girl.  Even though her Abigail couldn’t hear her, Rose spoke some of the hardest and most important words of her life, “Oh my beautiful girl.  I wish I had a lifetime, but if I only had this one afternoon, I couldn’t imagine a more wonderful way to spend it.  Please,” she was crying hard now, hardly able to get the words out, “Please always know…no matter what…please know that Mummy loves you so much.  You take care of your Daddy now.  And he’ll take care of you.  Goodbye, my love.  Goodbye my little Abigail.  I love you so much.”

When she could speak again, she turned to the Doctor, “You’ll tell her, right?  You’ll make sure she knows how much I love her?  You’ll make sure she never forgets?”

“Of course,” he managed, before they both broke, crying and holding each other as if it was the only thing tethering them to the ground.

The Doctor stood with Rose still in his arms and for once, she let him carry her.  He paused a moment inside the door of their room, letting her take it in with tear-blurred eyes.  She blinked a few times and felt a warmth suffuse her.

“S’ just like before I left,” she said in wonder.  

“I still sleep here,” the Doctor said.  “I couldn’t sleep anywhere else, really.  Still smells like you if I concentrate.  I think the TARDIS helps with that.  But other than a rumpled bed, and let’s be honest, it was never made anyway,” Rose giggled at that truth, “I kept everything the same.  I think even when I thought it was impossible, I still held on to just a bit of hope.”

Rose hummed, “And it paid off.  Oh Doctor, I’m so glad you found her.  I’m so glad you came back to see me.  I know this is…hard for you.  I know you don’t normally look back…”

“For you, I seem to break all sorts of rules,” he nuzzled into her neck, making her giggle.

The Doctor set her down and let her wander through their room, fingering a keepsake, a half-read book, a big leather jacket she had insisted stay in the closet despite it not being his style since he regenerated.  Finally, they met back at their bed, a place where they had made so many precious memories and one beautiful little girl.  Rose climbed into bed and let out a happy sigh at finally being home.  The Doctor was quick to join her, and she went into the circle of his arms so quickly, it made him chuckle.

After a moment of basking, Rose had to ask, “I have to forget all this, don’t I?”

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor confirmed, “Although not completely.  The emotions will stay, the sense that Abby will be ok and taken care of.   You’ll dream about us.  And, in the end, the memories will be unlocked.”

Rose nodded, “That’s better than most people would get.  Perks of falling in love with a Time Lord,” Rose teased half-heartedly.  “So remembering this, what I’m living now, will be my last thoughts?” Rose asked.

“Yes,” the Doctor said, his breath tickling her neck.

“Good,” and Rose meant it.  She grabbed his hand, laced her fingers through his,  “I always thought we fit well, ya know?”

“Oh most definitely,” the Doctor said, turning it into an innuendo.

“Down boy, we don’t have time,” Rose said and then immediately wished she hadn’t brought up the ever ticking clock.  Because now that she was thinking about it, it was taking over her mind.  She swore she could even hear the seconds counting down.  Despite herself, she was about to ask how much longer they had when the Doctor cupped her chin to turn her face up towards his.  

Once their eyes met, his face brightened into a watery, but genuine smile, “I love you,” he finally said the words she’d longed to hear, and that, more than the question that went unasked told her they were down to minutes.  Seconds maybe.  Suddenly she found that she didn’t want to know exactly how much longer they had left.

“Oh my Doctor, I love you too.  So much, and for so long.  And I know mine is so much shorter than yours, but I’ll love you forever.”

“Rose,” he answered her with a sob of her name and brought his lips down to hers.  After a few moments of the touch Rose had craved for months now, they changed positions to better accommodate the deepening kiss.  Rose was still reeling from it, still cataloging the feel of his stubbly face under her fingers, the brush of his tongue against hers, tasting the mingling of their tears, when he opened his mind to hers.

It was just as overwhelming and beautiful as she remembered.  Rose.  Rose.  Rose.  was echoing throughout his mind, and it wasn’t just her name, but her essence.  She realized that she really would live on in him, in a way.

“I want to show you something” he said once they had adjusted to the ecstasy of sharing minds.  “Follow me.”

In the mingling space of their minds, he grabbed her hand and led her through a swirling view of the night sky.  The path was not random, Rose realized.  He was leading her along one particular dancing path of light.  It was faint, not nearly as strong as the other ones whirling around them, but it felt to Rose like she was somehow connected to this lighted path. Without any feeling of getting closer, they had suddenly arrived and Rose gasped in wonder.  The timid path of light had led them to the flicker of a little mind.  It was Abby’s, but not the two-year-old now asleep in her nursery, but the child growing within Rose.  

Just as Rose had scooped up a toddling Abby into her arms, she now enveloped the spark of light in all her love and joy in her daughter’s existence.  The Doctor added the bright light of his mind, and Rose thought that she’d never felt so complete as in this moment.

“Will I be able to remember how to do this?” Rose pleaded more than asked.

“Yes,” the Doctor said, granting her yet one more priceless gift.  “When I first met Abby, she acted like she knew you, even though…well that wasn’t a possibility.”  Rose took a moment to mourn the fact that she would never hold her daughter again.  “I felt rather thick when I realized that it was the bond between mother and child.  You can communicate with her like this.  Just feelings now, but some words by the time she is ready to be born.  Time Tot’s minds are much more advanced then their motor skills.  You may have noticed Abby can communicate far better telepathically than orally.”

Rose nodded, basking in her family’s presence and the gift that she would get to keep at least part of this.

“And Rose,” the Doctor added, “I’d like, that is if you wanted, I’d like to bond with you too.”

“Like my bond with Abigail?” Rose was confused. 

“Similar, but different.  It would be a bond of lovers, as well as family - the equivalent to getting married for my people.”

Rose was stunned, “You really want that?  With me?  But Doctor, as soon as you leave…won’t it hurt when it breaks?  We only have a few minutes.  How can it be worth it to you?”

“It will hurt” He admitted, “But it would hurt more to never share that with you.  Even if it’s the last thing we do, Rose Tyler, I would be honored to have you as my wife and bond mate.”

“Of course, my Doctor,” Rose’s thoughts got tangled up in the bittersweet joy of this moment.

“Shhhhh,” the Doctor calmed Rose’s whirling mind.  When she felt more grounded, he gently eased them away from the flickering light of Abigail’s essence and led her by the hand down another path.

They arrived as abruptly as before into a field of brilliant red grass.  Rose grinned as she took in the beautiful meadow cradled beneath a shining mountain range.

“S’ beautiful,” she hummed.

“It’s home,” the Doctor said, “Or rather, where I’m from.  I’ve had many homes over the years…”

“S’ beautiful,” Rose repeated, “How do we…What do we do?”

The Doctor led her through a short ceremony that involved wrapping their hands in a silk cord that appeared in his hands.  He spoke a beautiful, melodic language, and though Rose could not understand the individual words, she felt that she sensed their meaning.  And then with a nod from each of them, accepting the union, they kissed under the starry sky and became one.

It was similar to the connection they usually shared, but so much…more.  It was beautiful beyond words and Rose let go of any ties to her body to dance through everything that the Doctor was.  They flowed around each other and into each other and it was the most amazing thing Rose and ever experienced.  She felt the Doctor’s joy to share so much of himself and to be gifted with so much of her.  It was rich and pure, and she knew why any pain that would come after would be worth it for what they had in this moment.

But a moment was all it was.  Now, instead of imagining the sound of the seconds ticking down, Rose felt them through the Doctor’s mind.  Coming back to their physical selves, the cried and kissed and whispered reverent “I love you’s” until…until…

****

The Doctor had been so greedy for these last moments with the woman he loved that he didn’t have any time to just hold her after he’d nudged her into sleep where he could lock up her memories.  Perhaps that was for the best.  Perhaps if he hadn’t had to rush to get her back on the sofa of the Tyler mansion, he would have simply never let her go.

Jackie’s car was pulling up the drive when he placed one last kiss on Rose’s lips and fumbled his way back to the TARDIS through tear blurred eyes.  It was the TARDIS as much as him who piloted them into the vortex.  

As soon as the ship dematerialized, the pain he knew would come with both the broken bond and the knowledge that he had just seen his beloved Rose for the last time all but crippled him.  He sank to his knees, letting out a cry that echoed throughout his ship.  

It was a long time before he and Abigail emerged from the TARDIS back at the Tyler Mansion.

The pain was beyond anything she’d thought possible, and that was saying something with the way the last few months had been.  There were green people…no, people clothed in green rushing around her adding their yelling voices to the cacophony of beeping and commotion.  Though oxygen was blowing through a tube in her nose, she didn’t seem to be getting enough of it.  She squeezed the hand that held hers in a firm grip and turned her head so that she could see her mum.

“Mum!” she cried helpless with pain and fear to a sobbing Jackie.  Then she felt something tear in her abdomen and she screamed.

Somehow, out of the blur of voices and movement she heard, “We’re losing them both!”

“No!” she sobbed, “No, save her!  Please save my little girl!”

She felt the hand she gripped start to shake and she knew all was lost if the unstoppable Jackie Tyler was this scared.

And then, the commotion of the room seemed to pause as she remembered…

“Oh mum!” she breathed, hardly loud enough for even her own ears to hear, “Oh mum, it’s ok.  It’ll be ok.  They’ll have each other.”

Knowing her job was done, her struggle over, she closed her eyes and let out a final breath, eager for peace.  

A moment later, the sound of a crying baby filled the room.  

Rose was not there to hear it.

[rayne-storm]

Flirting with Danger

AUgust 16 - Circus

Fandom: Hyperdrive

Summary: Stella/Sol

Stella is a helping hand at the Carnival, not talented enough to have any kind of act of her own, but brilliant with animals and kids. She has a crush on the newest attraction. Could it be mutual?

A/N: just a silly little thing that happened when I tried to picture what these two would be doing in a circus.

****

To watch Solomon throw knives was to watch a master work. The precision and strength were art in themselves, and Stella could never help staring when she passed by his acts. It was mesmerizing, and she was only human. Not that anyone like her had a shadow of a chance of being with someone like him.

It wasn't to say she was ugly or anything of the sort. She thought she was pretty enough, in an earthy way, and her figure was one earned by years of hard work on a farm that she left only to help here. But everyone knew that the help and the stars didn't really intermingle. Not in a lasting way. The light of stardom, even here, was simply too bright for most.

She was content to watch from a distance as he performed, satisfied that she could at least have that privilege. Maybe he'd know her name eventually, if either of them stuck around long enough. That would be amazing.

She wasn't expecting to be asked to assist.

"Now, Miss, forgive me. I see you all the time, and it's really amazing to see you work, especially with the animals, but I don't believe I've ever caught your name?"

She can scarcely believe it. He had asked for volunteers as she was taking a break and watching him for a moment, and he settled on her. Here she was, mere feet away from the man she fantasized about.

"S-Stella," she managed to squeak out.

He grinned and took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips.

"A Star, indeed," he purred, and turned back to the audience. "A massive round of applause for my lovely helper Stella, if you please!"

People actually clapped, and he had her stand against a bright red wall. There were no previous holes, which was nice, nothing to try and cram herself within. This was almost too intense to be real. But he had knives in his hands, and he was saying something about remaining very still.

Not that she could move under the intensity of his gaze anyways.

As the knives went in around her, it felt… romantic. Sensual, even. One landed between her knees and he winked, and she thought she was going to die and ascend to Heaven itself.

The world was silent save the sound of metal piercing the material behind her, and she was numb to everything but the sensation of blades zipping past her, tiny breezes blowing her curls around ever so slightly.

It was over all too soon.

But rather than say goodbye, Solomon held her hand after their bows, pressing another lingering, searing kiss to her knuckles.

"You were perfect. How would you like to be my partner full-time? Nobody's ever been as still as you," he praised, and for a terrible moment she thought he may have missed during the show, tragically killing her, and this was indeed Heaven.

"What? You want…me?"

"Oh, very much so, but even just as co-performers would be fine," he purred, and that wink made her legs weak.

"I, I would love you- to. I mean to."

Dammit.

He merely grinned and pulled her in for a proper kiss, resting his forehead against hers when he pulled away. "I might just love you too."

[reinersmilkies]

I always imagined that my heart was made of glass. I may not like my brain very much but i do like my heart and i always want to share it with people. Ive shared my heart with 3 people and theyve all broken it in different ways. When i describe them its not to say i did nothing wrong its just a way to reflect on how i felt in the relationship.

The first person i gave my heart to was not a good one. His heart was already so broken from the people who were supposed to love and take care of him that he didnt know how to live with an unbroken heart. So he would break mine. Sometimes it was small, a scratch, maybe he chipped a little away. Other times they were violent. Thrown at the wall, smashed with a hammer. But every time he helped me fix it. He'd bring stronger fixing materials to show me how committed he was to fixing what he broke. Eventually i was so scared of that broken heart that the last time it broke, i let him fix it and then left. He took a small piece of my broken heart with him.

Then came him. I knew that my heart was going to break the moment that it started to beat for him. Another broken man with a skewed outlook on life. On me. When i gave this man my heart i imagine him holding it disgusted with one hand, holding it at an arms length. He looks me dead in the eyes, an uncaring, slightly bored expression as he slowly turns his hand over to wait until the last second to drop it on the floor. I watch it shatter as he turns his back. My heart may have been through more with the first person, but this one well and truly broke not only my heart, but my soul and my essence as a human being too. Due to the other person fixing my broken heart with me, i didnt know how to do it on my own. I picture myself desperately picking up the tiny broken shards of my glass heart, furiously trying to show him that its broken and that im fixing it myself while he still has his back to me. Eventually, i find the biggest piece of my shattered heart, and slip it in his pocket for safe keeping.

I figure out how to fix my heart all by myself. And then I met him. He wasnt like the other two people. He wasnt broken and that somehow scared me more. I was so terrified of just showing him my shattered heart, clumsily glued back together, foggy from the breakages, no longer clear and pure. I was worried it would frighten him away from me. He did something the other two did not. He gave me his heart first. He kept his in a thick metal box with a lock on it. But he gave me the key. When i unlocked it, i could see his heart. Chipped and scratched, but whole and clear. When i showed him my heart, ashamed of the way it looks, he gently asked if he could hold it. When i did reluctantly, he was so kind and gentle with it. He ran his fingers over the cracks, kissed the chips and told me it was beautiful. He held me and my heart close for as long as we could. Until we had to move away from each other. The hardest lesson i had to learn is i can be selfish with my own heart, i cant be selfish with other peoples hearts. His heart was too good for me to keep all to myself, especially when i couldnt give him the intimate love that i wanted to while he lived two hours away. So i gave it back. And he gave me mine back. And that was it, when he carefully placed my heart back in my hands, i see him looking back at me and my heart as he walks away, making sure that we are okay. Damn him and his beautiful heart i think, as my heart crumbles with my own hands this time as i watch him start his new life. There wasnt even time to give him a piece.

I never tried to fix it after this one, i accepted that i was a broken heart and that was all. And then i met you. You who saw it fully broken and in pieces and held me tight. You who bought me flowers when i was sick, who tucked me back in bed when you left, who made sure i ate properly, who massaged my aching body. You who i feel guilty for as my heart still yearns for number three. Im sorry if my heart is never yours. I want my heart to be yours so badly. Youve taken care of me when i was low and that should be what i want. I am so so grateful for it all but my heart is tired and broken. Yours is broken too i can see it, you just want to be loved. Your heart just wants to take care of someone who takes care of you just the same. I promise my heart is doing her best.

[barnesafterglow]

only the two of us

summary: stuck together, you and bucky find yourselves in an unfortunate position (or maybe not)

pairing: tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon (very much consensual but it's sex pollen so yk just being safe), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pining bucky (just a little), one computer was harmed in the writing of this fic

a/n: here is my next prompt: sex pollen with tfatws!bucky. i really liked writing this one! i'm sorry i haven't posted hardly any prompts but i'm trying not to pressure myself. please reblog and comment so i know you liked it!

you can join my kinktober taglist or follow @theafterglowlibrary to get updated when i post 🤍

kinktober masterlist ─ main masterlist

The sound of your fist hitting against metal echoed through the empty room. It would be your luck that you’d get stuck in a metal bunker the same night you had your first date in months.

“I know you’re feisty, but I don’t think even you could break down that door.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Barnes.” You spun to face him, your back pressed against the cool door. “We wouldn’t even be in this mess if it weren’t for you.”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, casually leaning against the metal shelf on the other side of the room. You looked away from his stare - god that man could stare - and took in your surroundings.

It was a fairly small room, two shelves lined without unlabeled chemicals across from the door, a desk with a computer older than you and then some, and what looked like a lab table - cool black countertop littered with beakers and metal instruments. 

“If saving your ass counts as my fault then sure, I’ll take the blame.” You could hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, which only irritated your situation.

“I didn’t need help,” you said, voice raising a few octaves, as you threw your hands in the air in frustration. “I was totally fine.”

“Maybe you didn’t need help, but it wouldn’t kill you to take it every once in a while.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. He was in the same position as he was before, looking entirely unbothered despite his tone matching your own annoyance. You knew he was right, not that you would ever tell him.

Two enemy agents had you backed towards the room you were currently in, though you could tell they were not in fighting shape. You had one down when Bucky rounded the corner, taking your attention away just enough for the agent to swing his knife at you, slicing through the thick material of your Kevlar suit. He went in again, this time aiming for your jugular, and Bucky pushed you out of the way, getting off a shot as the two of you careened into the room, the metal door closing shut.

The same door you now pushed off of, pacing back and forth in front of the door, trying to strategize your next move. The comms were out, so you had to hope that Sam would notice when the two of you missed your checkpoint. But your checkpoint wasn’t for another hour, and then he would have to send a team, and then they would have to figure out where you were and how to get you out. You guessed it would be at least three or four hours before you were free from this tiny box.

“I want to get out too, but you don’t have to pace like that. We’ll just wait for Sam. It’s not like we have anywhere else to be.”

“I do,” you replied. “I was going to- I had plans tonight.”

“Plans?”

“Plans.”

“What kind of plans?” You threw your hands up in the air at his question.

“Plans that are none of your goddamn business, Barnes!” He blinked, not fazed but shocked nonetheless. He held his hands up in surrender.

Of course he would be able to make you feel bad for snapping him without saying a single word. The effect he had on you was not one you had ever examined closely, nor would you want to.

“I just,” you took a deep breath, deciding if you really wanted to share something so personal with him, of all people. “I was supposed to have a date tonight and… it’s been a while.”

You wrung your hands together, waiting for the pieces to click into place for him. It only took a moment - damn him and his incredible brain - before he nodded knowingly. Then a lazy grin spread across his face and you immediately regretted ever opening your mouth.

“I’m sorry you’re gonna miss your date. Try Tinder when we get back, I’ve heard it’s great for fulfilling your needs.”

It took all your willpower not to throw your boot at him, but you managed to keep from doing any bodily harm - for now. Instead, you turned away from his amused stare and began making a slow circle around the room, you trailed your fingers along the way, searching for any kind of groove or crevice that could be hiding your escape. When you reached the shelves - where Bucky still stood - you avoided eye contact, instead examining the shelf for anything out of place. If you were being honest, everything was out of place, but for the sake of being optimistic, you carefully examined the glass vials and beakers.

Bucky, who had been following your movements, zeroed in on the gash on your arm. It wasn’t deep, and the blood had dried, so you weren’t concerned. But apparently had turned into a field medic or a mother hen, and gripped your arm to look at it.

“Just let me -” “Quit that -” The two of you spoke at the same time, and you pulled your arm away from him.

Not realizing just how close you were to the shelf, your elbow knocked against it, shaking the rack just enough for a vial that was too close to the edge to fall towards you. Even with his supersoldier instincts, Bucky couldn’t stop it.

You tried to grab it, and the thin glass shattered in your hand. Tiny cuts bloomed across your palm, and whatever the hell liquid was inside seeped into your wounds. You tried in vain to wipe the liquid off on your pants, but you knew it was useless. The mystery chemical took effect almost immediately, heat spreading through your chest and face.

White hot pain flashed through your entire body, bringing you to your knees. Bucky shouted your name, picking you up and setting you in the old desk chair. He had to keep his hands on your shoulders to keep you upright, the pain still coming in harsh waves.

“What was that?” Each word was broken by a heave; even talking was a painful task. You looked at Bucky and for the first time, you let yourself truly take in just how beautiful he was. You had always known - anyone with eyes knew that - but the thought of even acknowledging the feelings that bloomed in your stomach every time he looked at you was terrifying.

Your relationship with Bucky was tumultuous - sometimes coexisting in sync, as if you had been friends for years. Other times, you got under each others’ skin so bad that Sam would have to scold you like children. It was an odd dynamic, and you could never decipher his feelings towards you.

Now, though, none of that anxiety stirred within you. Instead, you could feel the imprint of pure fire where he touched you, and he was closer than he had ever been before.

You took in the small details of his face, the ones you would never see unless you were so intimately close like you were now. The dip in his chin, the small scatter of freckles across his nose, the flecks of darker blue in his icy eyes. The heat in you increased tenfold, this time spreading through your core, and when Bucky moved one to lift your chin towards him, a small whimper left your lips.

His brow furrowed, then he frowned - his thoughts obviously circling rapidly - before his eyes finally widened in understanding.

“Buck, do you know what it is?” Your voice came out small, trying to dampen down the arousal that pressed between your thighs.

“Yeah it’s -” He looked down, biting his lower lip. Whatever it was, it was clearly hard for him to explain it. “I’ve only ever seen it once, with HYDRA. I don’t even remember what they called it, but basically it creates an intense sexual desire. They used it to torture traitors of the institute. The gist is, you have to have intercourse or it will burn you from the inside out. Fry your brain.”

“Oh.” It made sense now, why your body felt like it was on fire, why Bucky’s touch unleashed rampant feelings.

His eyes fell to your thighs, where they were squeezed together, trying to stamp down the waves of arousal. You knew he had hypersensitive senses, but you prayed to the gods that he couldn’t smell how wet you already were from his slight touch. You knew your hopes were in vain when he met your eyes again, his own so dark and intense that you had to look away before you did something stupid.

Then another spike of pain struck your abdomen and you doubled over in pain, burying your face in Bucky’s neck as he steadied you.

“Please.” Your voice was a whisper, a whimper, a plea. “Help me.”

“I can’t -”

“You can. You always lecture me about how I never ask for help. Well I’m asking for it now.”

More pain rolled through you, and you pushed closer to him.

“I didn’t want it to be like this.”

You didn’t have time to question his words before he was cradling the sides of your face and drawing you to him for a kiss. You could tell he was trying to keep it chaste, free of passion, but that wasn’t what you wanted. Needed.

You grabbed his hands, moving them down your body until they rested on your chest. He pulled away, looking into your eyes, and your small nod of consent snapped something within him.

He pulled you up from the chair, lips finding yours again, and pushed you onto the desk. Except there was something blocking his movements - the old computer - and he gave no thought as he pushed it out of the way. As it crashed to the floor, he settled you farther back on the desk, stepping between your legs.

Your moans echoes through the small room as he undid the buckles and zips of your tact suit. When he finally managed to slip the top from your body, his mouth immediately trailed downwards, nipping at your jaw, snapping open your bra as if it were second nature. Once you were bare to him, he took one of your nipples in his mouth, his left hand circling your other, and the cool sensation of the metal nearly took your breath away.

He looked up at the sound of your gasp, a look of concern that melted away as he took in your debauched state. You gripped the short strands of his hair, pulling his mouth back to yours. As you worked off his own tact suit, he pulled back for only a moment to slip off your boots and his own, then easily slipped your pants from your body as his mouth attacked yours again.

In a matter of minutes, you were both bare to each other and you had never wanted anyone more than you did him in that moment. Maybe it was the drugs coursing through your veins, maybe it was the feelings that had been hidden and buried since the moment you met him. All you knew was that you were going to die if you didn’t have his body pressed to yours.

“Buck,” you said, reaching your hand out for him. “C’mere”

He was more than happy to oblige you, gripping your hand and marrying his lips to yours again. The kiss was short, too short, and you whined as he pulled away until his knees hit the concrete floor, spreading your legs even wider.

You gasped when his tongue circled your clit, and you clenched around nothing when he groaned at the taste of you. Feeling your distress, his eyes bore into yours as he easily slid two fingers into you.

“Bucky please.”

“Gotta make you feel good, baby.” You could swear your intermingled moans rattle the metal surrounding you as he buried his face between your legs.

Your body still felt as if you were burning alive, even as you came around his fingers, drenching his face. It wasn’t enough. Nothing would be enough until he was buried deep inside you.

And he knew that, because he stood - grabbing your hair and tilting your head back so he could kiss you again. You pulled away just enough to speak, opening your mouth to beg again - you would get on your knees and beg if you had to - but he bit your lip, effectively shutting you up.

“I know,” he soothed. “I know what you need, honey.”

You cried out as he slid into you, the stretch present even with his preparation - even though your body was more than ready to take him in. He pushed and pushed, and you thought he may never bottom out, but then his pelvis was pressed against yours and you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he whispered, gripping your hair again and pressing your foreheads together. The look in his eyes only heightened your pleasure. “Wanted this for so long.”

You were hearing things. This drug was making you crazy. Even though you could feel the heat dissipating with every thrust, you were sure your brain was already fried, because you could never have imagined hearing those words from Bucky.

But even as your mind cycled through surprise and denial and confusion, you knew that you felt exactly the same, even if you had never let yourself admit it.

Your foreheads were still pressed together, breaths heavy against the other’s mouth, when he finally spilled inside you, and the feel of that alone pushed you over your own edge.

He fell forward, still inside you, and began scattering small kisses along your shoulder. You shivered at the gentle touch juxtaposed with the arousal still lingering, and you felt everything crash around you.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry.” The panic was evident in your voice now that the drug had fully left your system. And even though your revelation still rang true, you felt a pit in your stomach at the thought of you forcing yourself on him. It was like he could see the thoughts racing through your head, because he gently pressed the pad of his thumb against your lips.

“Don’t apologize. You’re okay. I’m okay.” From the pile of clothes on the floor, there was a crackle of static before Sam’s voice rang through. 

“Guys? I got Parker to fuck around with your comms when I saw you went offline. Are you okay?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he said before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

He searched through his suit until he found the small device, and described your location to Sam as best he could. 

As he talked, his eyes found yours, and a small smile tugged at his lips. You could feel a blush creeping across your face, but you still smiled back at him anyways.

kinktober taglist *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

@treatbuckywkisses @sgt-barnesveins @bucky-barmes @opheliastark @sweetascanbee @writing-for-marvel @sophiejay @christywantspizza @hi-sarahh @highlyintelligentblonde 

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 10

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam helps you out in planning for the launch while Bucky is away.

Word Count: 4.2k (woopsies)

Warnings: SMUT is back, angry unprotected sex, spitting, a tiny hint at scratching and choking, some hurtful words thrown in yada yada yada, kinda intense asjkcackansk

A/N: STRAP THE FUCK IN BECAUSE WE BOUTTA RIDE A DAMN ROLLERCOASTER OMG I’m nervous for this because I found this part very intense while writing it. And I hope it comes across as that to y’all as well because my fingers ached from how hard I was typing this part lmfao. Team Bucky vs Team Reader/Team Sam here we goooo sksksk enjoy

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

You didn't accept Sam's invitation to connect in LinkedIn. Not yet. But it did give you several ideas, like maybe submitting a resignation letter? Get away from Bucky and his toxic ass? He has Mackenzie now, he can easily have her take over your position anyway.

However, you were also torn because you loved your job at Bucky's company. It paved way for you to improve your skills and you experienced a lot of growth too. And well, Bucky's there too but god, you hated him right now. As much as you wanted to wave the white flag, you didn't feel like it was the right thing to do.

You wanted Bucky to learn that not everything he wants, he can easily get. And Mark was right, that you weren't just a trophy employee or whatever. You were so much more than what Bucky probably thinks of you.

And you were going to prove him that.

-

"Hey, Bev. Can you ring up your boss for me? Tell him I want to go over some of the plans I made for the launch before I discuss it with Mackenzie tomorrow." you asked.

Beverly was about to lift the phone up when an unexpected visitor arrived. None other than Sam Wilson himself.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop but did I hear you correctly? You've already made some plans for the launch?" he asked with interest.

You chuckled, "Sort of. Well, it's a rough draft of my ideas. I just thought it would be nice to get a headstart." you admitted.

Sam nodded and was about to say something when Bucky stepped out of his office, his brows furrowing upon seeing you and Sam conversing. Bucky eyed you before glancing over at Sam, patting his shoulder gently as a greeting.

"You checking up on us or what?" Bucky teased with a chuckle.

Sam shook his head, "Not really. Well, kinda. I figured that another presentation would be unnecessary, I mean. I'd love to work on the launch with your team instead of being on the sidelines for approvals." he admitted.

You shrugged, "I think that's a great idea too. Less time to waste, less back and forth." you pitched in.

Bucky frowned a bit, his jaw clenching at how you backed up Sam immediately. "That's fine, but I have a meeting in a few. Might last the entire day. Mackenzie won't be here until tomorrow too." he said.

"She and I can discuss her plans today and maybe I can pitch in some of my ideas too. She can present them tomorrow to you and Kenzie." Sam suggested, gesturing over to you.

Bucky stared at you and Sam alternately, his hands balling into fists at his sides. You could see his internal struggle about leaving you and Sam to discuss about the launch, without his presence.

You lifted up the folder in your hand, "I wanted to go over these plans with you but I didn't know you have a meeting. Sam and I can just refine these today, would save us a lot of time. We don't want to be rushing anything for this project at the last minute." you told him.

Bucky swallowed but nodded anyway, albeit with hesitation, "Yeah. Of course. I'll just catch up on the both of you later."

And with that, Bucky walked away but not without sparing you and Sam one final glance. His eyes met yours for a brief moment and you weren't sure, but you saw a flash of worry in his eyes before it was immediately replaced by his usual stern, ice-cold gaze.

You turned to Sam with a smile, "We can discuss in the conference room." you said and led the way.

-

The planning was seamless and you were surprised that you had so much fun exchanging ideas with Sam, to the point of almost forgetting about lunch break. It was quarter past noon when the both of you realized that it was way past lunch time.

"Do you want to grab lunch or order something instead? I honestly hate working lunch, just so you know." Sam said with a laugh.

You groaned, "I hate that too, honestly." you admitted with a chuckle.

Sam nodded, "Great, we can head out for a quick lunch?" he asked.

It didn't even cross your mind to hesitate, so you immediately agreed and even asked if you can take Beverly with you. You'd grown somewhat attached to her in the short time you've known her. Poor kid was being treated like an outcast by the other office girls. She always waited for you to have your lunch break too, especially that Mark has been pretty busy lately.

Sam was kind enough to agree about including Beverly for lunch. The two of you were about to head out of the conference room when Beverly peeked in, worry etched all over her face.

"I need your help." she whined, "I think I messed up Sir James' schedule. Mister Nakajima is on the phone and said that he's going to be an hour late for a meeting today. I forgot about Sir James’ meeting with another company today!" she explained, almost close to tears.

You rushed over to her and held her shoulders, "Hey, calm down. Did you tell Mister Nakajima?" you asked.

"I did and he got mad at me! Today is his only free day and he said that if he doesn't meet up with Sir James, the deal is off." Beverly said, stomping her foot on the ground.

You heaved out a sigh, knowing that the deal was very important. Mister Nakajima owned an auto manufacturing company which produces world-class materials for cars. Bucky had been working on convincing Mister Nakajima to be his permanent supplier for quite a while now. Big fucking deal.

You looked back at Sam, "Hey, I'm sorry. Can you give me a couple of minutes?" you asked with an apologetic expression.

"Take your time." Sam nodded with a smile.

You went over to Beverly's desk and took over the phone call, without knowing that Sam trailed behind you. He watched you carefully as you talked to Mister Nakajima, your demeanor calm yet confident.

"Hi, Mister Nakajima. I'm the company's Marketing Head and I would like to apologize for the mix up. Bucky has been working really hard on improving the quality of our products, he's been in meetings in and out. That being said, would it be alright if I take over this afternoon's meeting instead? Bucky worked on an amazing presentation and I honestly would love to go over it with you and just show you how this partnership would be beneficial for both our companies." you asked.

Fortunately, you were able to appease Mister Nakajima while also saving Beverly's ass for her honest mistake. As soon as the call was done, you reassured Beverly that everything was fine now and that you'll take care of Bucky. By the time you looked back at Sam, he was merely smiling at you.

"You're really good with people."

-

Lunch break passed by quickly, with you, Sam and Beverly engaging in all sorts of conversations. Even Beverly felt comfortable being around his presence. He mainly talked about his experiences at his first job, giving Beverly a couple of tips on how to navigate through the corporate world.

Sam was very kind.

The planning resumed after lunch and by the time Mister Nakajima and his associates arrived, the launch plan was pretty much refined with a lot of details. Sam excused himself to give you time to meet with Mister Nakajima, however, he said he'll be staying until Bucky comes back.

Presenting to Mister Nakajima made you nervous as fuck, especially that he didn't really work closely with you which might affect his decision. Luckily though, you knew Bucky's presentation like the back of your hand due to the fact that he had gone over it with you for a couple of times back when the two of you were still, well, fucking around.

Ah, the good old days.

The meeting with Mister Nakajima went perfectly well because as soon as you were done with the presentation, the old man simply asked for the contract to seal the deal. Although it wasn't you who actually worked on the deck, you had a sense of fulfillment. You were proud of yourself and you couldn't wait to dangle it right in front of Bucky's face.

"Thank you so much, Mister Nakajima. We are excited for this partnership." you said happily as you led him and his associates out of the conference room, just as when Bucky arrived.

He looked confused when Mister Nakajima greeted him happily, shaking his hand and telling him how good his presentation was. Bucky looked over at you, as if asking what the hell was going on. You merely shrugged and headed back inside the conference with Sam.

Bucky followed shortly and for some reason, he looked agitated. He was about to speak up when Sam beat him to it, giving him a hard pat on the back.

"The launch event is gonna be really good." he said confidently before glancing at you.

"You're lucky to have her, Bucky." he said before bidding goodbye, giving you one last look and a wink as well, something that Bucky immediately noticed.

When Sam left, so did the light atmosphere inside the conference room. Bucky turned to you with a scowl, his footsteps rushed and heavy as he approached you.

"What the hell happened with Mister Nakajima?" he asked gruffly.

You smiled as you handed him an envelope, "The partnership is a go. He signed the contract and his team will be keeping in contact with us and our factory soon." you explained proudly.

Bucky took the envelope from your hand and went through the contract before placing it back on the table. "I thought my meeting with him isn't until Friday."

"Beverly mixed up your schedule and before you even reprimand her, give the girl a break. It's her first job and with the amount of meetings you've been having, mix-ups are inevitable. What matters now is that I took over the presentation and Mister Nakajima signed the contract." you explained with nonchalance.

Bucky shook his head, "The end does not justify the means." he said. "Beverly should have been careful. My schedule is not a joke and if I miss another important meeting, that can fuck up the entire company."

You rolled your eyes, "Calm down, Beverly surely learned from today's mistake. It's done. The deal is on. Everything is peachy. The launch details have been planned out, Sam is happy with it. All I have to do is to secure your and Mackenzie's approval for it and then we can start with the execution. You're welcome." you said all in one breath, handing Bucky a USB containing the details of the launch.

You brushed past Bucky to leave the conference room but you were immediately pulled back with his hand around your arm. He looked down at you with an angry look on his face, almost fuming. You couldn't understand why the fuck he was so aggravated with you today. Sure, he had been testing your patience lately but it was the first time he actually looked like he was going to snap.

Not at the situation, but at you.

"Are you trying to impress Sam? Taking on my responsibilities while he's around?" he asked, eyes narrowing at you.

You scoffed, unable to believe what Bucky was accusing you of. Pulling your arm back, you took a step back and looked at him with disgust. "You're unbelievable, Bucky." you said.

"Had I not stepped in, we would have lost the deal. You promoted me for a reason, and I believe part of it is my leadership skills. And no, I'm not trying to impress Sam. I'm simply doing my fucking job." you hissed and tried to side step Bucky, only for him to block your way.

"Did he offer you a position in his company? What the fuck was the wink all about?" Bucky accused yet again.

"Oh my god, Bucky! You're blowing things out of proportion. He didn't. We talked about the event. That's it." you explained, pinching the bridge of your nose because Bucky was getting on your very last nerve.

Bucky had been fucking with you too much now and you could feel the last bits of your composure slowly slip away with every word that was coming out of his mouth. Coming for your job was one thing, but accusing you of flirting your way to another company? That was a low blow.

"Don't lie to me, I saw the notification on your phone the other day. Seems to me like Tinder matches don't work for you anymore, you moved on to LinkedIn now to find connections instead?" he asked and that particular statement struck a certain nerve.

You let out a bitter scoff, "Do you even hear yourself, Bucky? At least Sam was being professional and didn't use Tinder to hire a fucking consultant to threaten my damn job!" you slipped, unable to hold back.

The look on Bucky's face was a whirlwind of emotions-- shock, wrath, exhaustion-- and you felt like you were supposed to get scared. Gone were the blue orbs that used to make you feel safe, his eyes only held anger in them. And the thing was, your eyes looked the same as you held Bucky's gaze.

You were so fucking tired of everything, of Bucky.

"How did you-- it doesn't matter." Bucky said, shaking his head. "How much did Sam offer you?" he asked.

Your jaw dropped at the implication of Bucky's statement, "You are a fucking asshole, Bucky. Sam didn't offer me a fucking job. You really don't listen, Bucky. You never listen." you huffed out exasperatedly.

"Okay, maybe he hasn't laid down his offer yet. Perhaps, you let him fuck you too?"

Your vision blacked out upon hearing that and by the time you regained your senses, all you could feel was how your palm stung. You had walked up to Bucky and slapped him right across the face, hard enough to make the corner of his bottom lip bleed. Your entire body was trembling from rage as you stood in front of Bucky.

He tilted his head as he wiped the blood off from his lip, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes. And then his hand gripped your neck, tugging you close for a bruising kiss. You grunted against his mouth and pushed him away, slapping him again. Before Bucky could even recover, your fingers wrapped around his tie pulling him down to you for another kiss.

Walls crumbled down, tension was broken and needs were being fulfilled. The rush of emotions blurred the line between fury and lust with the latter obviously winning. All you could think about was the throb that you suddenly felt within your core begging for relief.

Relief that was denied from you for the past few weeks of playing cat and mouse with Bucky.

And with the way Bucky was kissing you, you knew he felt the same. It had been too long and both your minds were too hazy to even care that it was only five in the afternoon and that there were employees working just outside the conference room.

Was the fear of getting caught going to stop you? No, not now. Because you needed release and you were sure as hell going to get it. This wasn't like the other times you and Bucky fucked. You didn't care about Bucky at the moment, how he felt or what was going on in his mind. You just needed to release all your pent up emotions and you were going to use Bucky to get what you need.

Bucky pushed you against the table, your tailbone hitting the edge with such force that made you groan from pain.

"Yeah, why don't you make some noise so everyone can see how fucking needy you are for me?" Bucky growled, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep your eyes on him as his other hand bunched your skirt up to your waist.

You let out a chuckle, "I'm not the one going to make noise here." you warned before reaching down to palm his erection.

Bucky hissed and bit his lip hard to prevent himself from eliciting a moan. His jaw ticked as he squeezed your face tighter, forcing you to open your mouth as his eyes scanned your features.

"Watch your fucking mouth, baby. I still own you, you're fucking mine." he said through gritted teeth, his eyes lidded as he looked down at you like a predator.

You kept your mouth closed but as soon as Bucky's fingers found your damp panties, you weren't able to stop your whimper. Bucky took the opportunity and spit in your mouth before crashing his lips against yours in a messy kiss. It was all tongue and spit, the way he kissed you as his fingers rubbed at your folds through the thin fabric of your underwear.

He kissed you like he owned you.

"I'm not yours, Bucky." you said as your hands quickly unbuckled his belt, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his hard cock from the confines of his boxers.

The groan that reverberated from Bucky's chest as you stroked him made you smirk. His hand on your face slid down to your neck, holding you tightly as he pushed aside your underwear and then he slid into you with no prior warning. The lack of foreplay made it hurt when he bottomed out, but the pain quickly turned into pleasure when Bucky started moving his hips against yours.

No words were further exchanged from then on. Only soft whimpers and hushed grunts could be heard. However, it was clear that even up until now, there was competition. You didn't want to make noise, didn't want to lose to Bucky. You didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing how fucking good he was making you feel right now, with how each drag of his cock was making your toes curl inside your heels.

Your hands held onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the table, the fabric of his suit bunching up against your fingers. Bucky kept his gaze on you and not once did you falter, not even when the tip of his cock hit your cervix, almost punching the air out of your lungs.

Bucky held the back of your thighs and lifted you up, sitting you on the edge of the table and bending forward so he could angle his cock in a way that you would feel it deep within you. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, one of your hands scratching at his jaw as he continued to pound your sopping cunt.

"God, fucking missed this pussy. Can feel you clamping down on my cock, you gonna cum soon?" he asked, pressing the tip of his nose against yours.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling the wanton moan that Bucky pounded out of you. Not wanting to be the only one to make noise, you clenched around him hard. Bucky let out a growl at how your walls squeezed his cock, his balls tightening as his own orgasm approached.

"Cum for me, Bucky." you whimpered, tipping your head up to lick at Bucky's mouth as your legs tightened around his waist to pull him deeper into you.

Bucky exhaled heavily through his nose, the veins on his neck popping out as he fucked your harder on the table. He kept his hand wrapped around your neck while the other held onto your waist so tight, you could feel his fingers digging deep into your skin. Even with your clothes on, you were sure that you'll be getting bruises from how hard his grip on you was.

"Go on, Bucky. Want your cum inside, want to feel you fill me up again." you moaned against his parted lips, darting your tongue out to taste his mouth.

The needy tone of your voice sent Bucky to the edge first. He uttered a string of curses under his breath as ropes of his cum painted your walls with their warmth with triggered your orgasm. Your body convulsed as waves of pleasure ran through your veins, starting from your fingertips down to your toes. Bucky kissed you and swallowed your moans as his thrusts slowed down.

It took a while for the both of you to recover from the intense fucking. Bucky nuzzled your neck with his nose, his heavy breaths warming up your sweaty skin. There was a short moment of peace that followed, the tension gone and was replaced by a heavy feeling.

You swallowed hard and slowly regained your senses. The release cleared your mind and the memories of the heated exchange from earlier were quick to come back. Bucky's accusations echoed in your ear and they were so clear it almost felt like he was saying them to you again.

Suddenly, you doubted Bucky's intentions when he promoted you. Was he really impressed of your skills at work or was it because you let him fuck you?

"Get off of me." you said, pushing at Bucky's chest until he straightened up.

Ignoring the emptiness you felt when his cock slipped out of you, you hopped down from the table and started fixing yourself. In the many times you had slept with Bucky, it was the first time that you felt disgusted with yourself.

You turned your back to Bucky as you adjusted your underwear, pulling down your skirt and pressing your palms against the fabric to iron out the creases. Your breath was heavy as you processed what had just happened. And just like that, your reserve broke and the strong facade you had built crumbled down into pieces, leaving you vulnerable.

"Hey, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Bucky suddenly asked when he heard your sniffing, the darkness in his features gone.

His eyes were back to blue and there was nothing but genuine concern when he saw the tears in your eyes. Bucky tried to approach you but you quickly backed away from him, your arms wrapping around yourself as protection.

"Did you hurt me?" you scoffed. "In more ways than one, Bucky." you quickly added, wiping away your tears hastily with the back of your hand.

You were about to walk out of the conference but decided that it was probably time for you to actually speak up about everything. How you felt for him and how much you hated him for coming at you like that.

"I was going to admit that I like you. I thought about it and figured that I was too proud and a bit selfish for not considering your feelings when I rejected you." you explained.

Bucky blinked in confusion, "What? When?"

You shrugged, "The day you brought in Mackenzie. And I was more hurt than mad that you did that. Because you knew how much this job means to me and you had used it against me. You basically took advantage of my weakness, for what? To get me to cave in? Even when I clearly told you how fucking scared I was of the consequences of whatever kind of relationship we have?" you huffed out.

You didn't allow Bucky to speak, not yet. Not until you were done making him understand why you had been so hell-bent on keeping things professional.

"I wasn't born into a rich family like you, Bucky. I had to work my way up to where I am. Unlike you, I have a family to support and if I lose this job, it's not only me who would suffer. And it won't be easy for me to find another one, not after the reputation I'd have once we get busted." you further explained.

"I told you about it so many times and I wish you listened. Because maybe we could've figured shit out. Or I don't know, maybe the fucking was too good and you only wanted me for that." you shrugged.

Bucky quickly shook his head, "No. God no, you're more than that."

You chuckled again, a fresh wave of tears flooding the corners of your eyes. "It most definitely felt like it when you accused me of fucking Sam."

"Fuck, I'm sorry. Let me explain, please? I didn't mean to, I was too--"

"No, Bucky. You didn't listen to me when I told you how I felt about us. Now you're going to know how it feels to not to get what you want." you sternly said before walking over to the door.

You turned back at Bucky and refused to let his expression get to you. He looked devastated, his eyes glassy from the tears he had been holding back, his lips parted as he finally realized what he had done.

"Expect my resignation letter by tomorrow. As soon as we're done with the launch, I'm out."

-

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[emile-hides]

H*lding H*nds Imagines

I am once again making content for me and me alone because I have an unhealthy obsession for BNHA blond boys

BNHA Blond Boys X GN!Reader h*nd h*lding moments

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Twice, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

Knuckle brush

You handed him things before

Stacks of papers to grade, coffee after a long day, a napkin when he goes into a coughing fit

But something about this time turns his face a deep red

He withdrew quickly, in a jerking manner that dragged more attention than you’re sure he meant it to

He cleared this throat and thanked you quietly before shuffling off

It took a few moments to really set on you

You’d made contact

Such little contact you’d barely even felt it

He was cold, his skin rough and calloused, wrinkled and dry

How you managed to notice so much with such brief contact is astounding

And also incomparable to how much he noticed

He’s thinking about it all day, glancing at where the contact was made, shuffling, flushing to himself, holding his knuckles to his lips

Do it on purpose next time you hand him a stack of papers and he’ll drop them

Present Mic

In a crowd

It’s LOUD

You and Hizashi are trying to get home after a live show

The crowd is huge and still hyped from the concert

The quarters are tight, the space is limited, and without his towering hair spike it’s hard to keep track of your loud blond

Eventually a strong clasp from a hand horribly decorated in rings, fingerless gloves, and black nail polish claps on your wrist as your continued to be pulled though a crowd

When the world finally starts to calm and you have room to breath his hand slides to connect to your palm

Fingers intertwine with yours as a series of “Y’all good?”s start, followed quickly by an excited narration of the chaos that just ensued

He’d taken your hand so causally you barely even noticed

The two of you walked in a much calmer crowd, hand in hand, as Hizashi randomly picked bystanders out of his vocal range and made up their life stories to tell you

Fatgum

Big hands

You laid idly on the couch in Fatgum’s office, the interns long sense gone home

A pile of paperwork blocked your view of your hard working hero as he sat at his desk

You slumped and slid off the couch, boredom rising as you phone lie dead on the table nearby

A loud groan drives a “Just a bit longer, gumdrop” from behind the piles of unfinished work, a bit longer could be years for all you cared

Sliding across the hardwood floor on your back, you found yourself beside Taishiro’s desk, looking up at him from an angle you were rather use to

He was focused, with a smile still on his face as he worked, writing with one hand, the other causually turning Takoyaki in the grill built into his desk

You sat up, watching quietly. He was typically pretty observant, but he may not yet have noticed your approach

When his hand stopped turning and released, you took your chance

Both your hands snatched his wrist, sitting up a bit to rest yourself on his lap, you examined his large palm

He chuckled, “What’cha doin’, cupcake?”

His hand was massive in your own, enough to make anyone feel like a child. It could engulf you, hold half your torso and still have a pinkie to spare

You pressed on his palm, he hummed and returned to work, leaving you to admire as you pleased

His knuckles were scarred, several gashes and scrapes from punching at materials harder than even his fat could handle

Old burns from cooking, white spots on his finger tips from a time before he learned patients

You leaned back on him, holding his hand in your own, and watched him work

He seemed much more blissed from your company

Twice

Not enough hands

Jin’s a very physical person

He hangs off you every chance he can get, coddling and loving on you

He finds it annoying

So it’s not surprise as you two settled down for a movie night he was instantly on your lap like a cat

He lays over you like a blanket, limbs tangled every which way, head on your chest, looking at you more than the movie

One of your hands lay idly by your head, that one he has his own over, fingers tangled messily, almost uncomfortably

His other arm trapped under you, a hug from below, resting also uncomfortably against your spine

Leaving your free hand to tangle in his hair, a rare sight to have his mask off, though it probably wouldn’t last the whole movie, it should be cherished until then

When you notice his staring at you more than the screen, you choose to join him

You slide your hand from his hair to his cheek, he leans into it with the most lovestruck puppydog look a man his age could muster

He then starts to fidget around, moving like he’s stuck

It doesn’t take long from there for him to start getting frustrated with himself, splitting an argument for two between just him

You gently lift his head to regain eye contact and ask what’s wrong

He nearly starts crying

“I want to hold your cheek too but I don’t have enough hands!!”

He’s not willing to remove your hand from his hold or pull his other arm out from under you to compromise his own needs

He does eventually start crying over his lack of extra limbs to love you with

Aoyama

Standing ovation

Roaring applause rippled thought the auditorium

It wasn’t a big show, or a big stage, but it was your first written play, and seeing it go over so well was enough to bring a tear to your eyes

You joined the audience in standing to applause as the actors took the stage for the final bow

Only the lead, your star, wasn’t there with them

You blinked once, twice, three times before panic set in

There’s no way Yuga Aoyama would miss the chance to stand center stage in a spotlight. If he wasn’t on stage something must have happened

You tried your best not to look around too fervently, not wanting to startle anyone else

When a hand clasped yours

“And let’s not forget the playwright~✨”

Before you could question how he said that with his mouth, you were dragged onto the stage by your previously mentioned star, with his own mic in hand you don’t remember giving him

He held your arm up above his head as he runway walked his way along the stage, you closely in toe

You were going to go on stage eventually but you’d planned to be a lot more quiet about it, when more people had left early not wanting to sit though the applause

But instead, here you were, center stage, hand held high like you’d just won a boxing match by your own and only Aoyama

How he could stand being this bright all the time way beyond you

For now though, it was rather nice 

Ojiro

Lost and found

You stepped out of your class stretching, ready for a well deserved lunch break when you heard your classmates muttering

“Isn’t he from the hero course?”

“What’s he doing?”

Being nosy wasn’t usually your strong suit, but the mutterings has peaked your interest

You followed the eyes of those speaking to find a blond boy sitting in the floor of the hall, knees pulled to his chest to keep his legs from disrupting the flow of traffic, with his tail resting over his feet to protect them from being stepped on

He smiled and gave a light wave to your class as the dispersed

You alone approached him, curiosity peaking. Why was he sitting out here in the hall?

When question he very sheepishly answered, “I, uh.. I got lost on my way to class”

There was several things wrong with that

Number one being, he’d been at this school half a year now. He has one classroom, a big classroom, in the hero course. It’s not easy to miss??

Number two, it was noon. Lunchtime. He has one classroom. How long had he been lost???

These questions had answers and he was, while slightly embarrassed, happy to share he had, in fact, been lost all morning. Not just in finding his class, but also in finding the exit to the building, any teachers he knew, or his phone to call for help

You began to feel sorry for the guy, as this seemed to be a common occurrence in his daily life

With a sigh, you offered your hand to help him up

It was lunch, for all courses, so surely he’d see his hero course classmates in the cafeteria. No one turns up Lunchrush’s food after all

He smiled and took your hand, lifting himself from the floor with a thankyou

“I’m Ojiro, by the way. You are...?”

He was rather polite to talk to the entire walk, his grip on your hand was soft, gentle, and his smile never seemed to waver

Kaminari

Swing yer partner round and round

“Oh this is my JAM!”

Mina excitedly turned up your shitty little radio before kicking herself up off the floor, grabbing Sero all in one quick motion

The two danced horribly off beat, you quickly guess Mina had never heard this song before in her life, just wanted to get moving

“Come on you two, it’s dance break time!”

You found yourself enraptured with her energy, already forgetting the homework you all were doing

Kaminari took your hand much like how Mina took Sero’s and began to dance just as off beat and spuratic as queen pinkie had

You laughed, stumbling with every step, same as the others, the giggling energy filling a previously silent room

Denki’s fingers dug into your knuckles as he smirked, suddenly spinning on his heel and dragging you with him

The two of you became a tornado in your tiny dorm room, barely keeping from knocking into your tea table as you spun like a couple of children

You could hear Mina cheer and laugh, a brief glanced told you Sero was recording this silly moment

You looked across the way at your dance partner

Spinning, laughing his head off like this was the most fun he’d ever had, eyes closed, caring not for his surroundings

You decided to let go

The momentum sent you both toppling, you safely into Mina, who was more then ready to catch you

Denki got the much less desirable aforementioned tea table, which sent him toppling backwards over the also aforementioned homework

If you all could have laughed any louder, you would

Bakugo

Sweaty hands

You always knew when Bakugo was going to hold your hand

He may think he’s smooth, wiping his hand on the pocket of his pants before reaching behind himself to grab at you

But you’d always notice

It was a good indicator you were walking too slow for his liking, or the area up ahead was crowed, or that he simply felt you were too far away

You couldn’t initiate holding hands, when he didn’t actively want to be in contact he’d keep his hands shoved deep in his pockets

So you just had to wait for him to wipe himself off and reach for you

You were free to wrap yourself around his arm whenever, though

He’ll look pissed, but won’t say a word

And if you move away, he’ll wipe his hand on his pants, and offer it to you, a silent plea for you to come back

Honenuki

Magic hands

You stretched out over the couch of the 1-B common room with a whine, the rest of your class in a similar state

Training was hell today, sparing with class 1-A was never a joke, and with Monoma egging the whole game up to be more than it should have been, it all just escalated to a point you all wish it hadn’t

“Alright, next.”

Honenuki, a godsend, your blessed angel, helped Tsuburaba off the second common room couch, his typically wide eyes closed and relaxed as he wobbled his way across the room

You happily took his place, stretching out on your stomach before your classmate with the magic powers of massage

His hands pressed into your back and you instantly relaxed, letting out a low hum as you snuggled the pillow under your chin

Honenuki returned your hum, his hands pressing into all your tenses spots, almost instantly releasing them from their knots

You’d probably have fallen asleep, if it wasn’t over so fast

He had the entire class to get though after all, though he hated to rush an art form

You took his hand as he helped you stand, the actual minute of his touch enough to wobble your legs

Kissing his knuckle and thanking him for sharing his magic, you found yourself plopped peacefully on the couch beside Tsuburaba

Honenuki chuckled at you as he called next, happy to be of service

Monoma

He’s showing off

You’d known for a while now Monoma didn’t know how to shut the fuck up

He’d brag about anything, over anyone, to everyone

He’d always loudly bragged about how much better his class was, how much stronger his friendships were, how absolutely amazing his partner was

You being said partner didn’t make said bragging less annoying

The two of you had been together less than an hour and he was already boasting about your perfection to all who would hear

Some genuine, loving, almost gaggingly sweet comments

Others just to rub it in the face of class 1-A as much as possible

A week into this relationship and people were starting to think you must be come kind of god with how Monoma spoke about you

You’d been on two dates with the guy

Now here you were, holding his hand on the walk to class, and regretting every step

As every single person who passed must take note of the fact you were holding his hand

And also must be aware how blessed he is to be holding your hand in return

And really you started to understand the concerned look Kendo gave you when you told her you’d agreed to date Neito Monoma

Still his words were genuine, no matter how they came across, and he truly had a million and one things to say about you

So you could hold though the embarrassment his overexcited bragging may cause

He just wants to show you off

Mirio

Quietly

You sat by his bed side, holding gently to his limp hand

Moments ago he was inconsolable, crying and screaming his lungs out

His quirk gone

His teacher gone

Everything he worked so hard for seemed to vanish in an instant

His grip, still so strong, had left your hand bruised, circulation cut off

It wasn’t a concern you really had

Sleeping, his pain was still so obvious

Bags under his eyes, dried streaks of tears still down his keeps

And your hand still tightly gripped in his

What would happen next, where he would go, who you all would become

They were all problems for the future

Tomorrow you could work on a solution

Tonight, you could hold his hand

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Positions

Summary: Andy wanted your trust.

Pairings: Andy Barber x Black!Reader

Warnings: minors dni, smut, swearing, Daddy kink, rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, verbal degradation

(A/N: yay my first non request in awhile. Something I hadn’t been able to work on for a long time so if it seems a little disjointed that’s why. But I love it 🥺. Like follow Reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

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“Nice doing business with you,” Andy said, standing up to hold out his hand.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help yourself as you smiled. After giving you a handshake like you were a client, he chuckled and pulled you in for a hug. Then kissed your forehead before finally moving to your lips. God it was a good thing he’d gotten a private dining room.

Tonight had been a big night. The two of you had been dating for a few months now. Starting out as neighbors when he’d moved in next door after his divorce. What started out as a friendly plate of freshly baked cookies to welcome him turned into him helping you carry your shopping bags into your apartment. Which was followed by two of you ending up on the same jogging path to grabbing breakfast together. Then beers, then dinner, then movie nights to him finally kissing you.

At some point sex started to become a constant topic of conversation. Of him talking about how he’d tried to ask his ex wife to explore more, but every time he’d chicken out. Then when the feelings went away it didn’t feel right to ask. Like if he did he’d deserve a slap on the face.

Then you’d ended up giving him the finest glimpse into what kind of stuff you were into. How you’d been judged in the past by people so you were a little shy about opening up. But that you felt like your secret was safe with him. You’d even whispered it in his ear like someone else could hear him.

Fuck was he dying to touch you. You were all close on your knees. Tits pressing into him. If he’d turned his head just a little he would have gotten face full of them. You were wearing these thigh socks. It was cold, but you apparently didn’t like sleeping in pants so that was your compromise. Thank god for that.

It became kind of a thing you did. He’d open up about the side he’d been trying to explore and you told him the same. Always whispering it in his ears. Until he finally kissed you. He doesn’t know how he waited so long to do it.

He pulled you on his lap so he could kiss you feverishly. Then you tugged at the bottom of his white t-shirt which told him everything about where this was headed. Fuck why hadn’t he done it sooner.

He carried you to your bedroom before laying you down. Fuck he didn’t let up. Just kept pounding into you and you couldn’t help yourself as you cried out and moaned. Said his name over and over again. While he whispered in your ear this time. Saying exactly the things you’d told him you liked.

Didn’t even care that he hadn’t worn a condom. The thought never even crossing his mind. You’d just felt so good as he fucked you. Beside he knew you were on birth control. Even then he wasn’t sure if he cared.

After you came all over his cock once again, he finally exploded inside of you. Making sure to get it nice and deep as if he was trying to impregnate you on purpose. Maybe a tiny little bit of him hoping he caught you when your birth control was failing or something.

After you rolled onto your side. He’d wrapped his arms around you, repeatedly kissing your cheek as you were coming down. Asking you if you needed anything.

You just yawned and turned to snuggle into him. He didn’t stop pressing kiss after kiss into anywhere his lips could reach. Making you giggle a little before you finally kissed him back which is what led to part two.

The next morning you’d woken up before him where he found you in the kitchen making pancakes. He kissed your face over and over as you giggled before he helped you finish.

Since then most mornings were spent like this. Alternating between his place and yours. Yet he noticed something every time. Through all that talking he’d picked up on every kink you had. What made you tick. He’d found out just how to work you up to the point where it was almost too easy. God he was obsessed with it.

But, he’d also noticed was that you were holding back. You hadn’t called him Daddy once. Didn’t let him tie you up. Never even asked for it. So of course he was going to bring it up one day.

“Well,” you’d started, “I guess it’s because I feel like whenever I open up about it...” you trailed off, sighing as you shrugged, “I feel like I end up getting used.”

Andy sighed and pursed his lips. “Aw, Babe...” he sighed before kissing your temple. “You know I’d never do that.”

You shrugged. “You say that now.”

“I won’t. We’re three months in, haven’t I been good to you?” He asked.

“Yeah, but that’s not that long.”

He sighed. He didn’t wanna argue. He wanted you to trust him. Wanted to prove that it wasn’t about the sex. Well, completely. “Okay,” he started, “how about we,” then bit his lip as he thought, his head going to the side, “how about we set a time. It’s three months down. Maybe,” he shrugged,” three more?”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes playfully. “What are we gonna sign contracts?” You asked with a giggle.

“I mean, we could! That’s a great idea!” He laughed. “I can draft one up.”

“I didn’t realize you wanted to be my daddy so bad,” you said not being able to wipe the smile off your face.

He sighed before kissing your cheek. “Well, yeah I wanna be your daddy, but I also want you to be comfortable around me,” he replied.

You peeked up at him through your lashes. You knew he was right. Andy knew you wanted that. With a dramatic sigh, you casted your eyes to the side. “I mean. True.”

He pulled you in. Wrapping his arms snugly around your waist. “Hey, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Then he lifted your chin up with his fingers. “We can go at your pace. Or not even do it at all. I just thought-“

“No,” you interrupted him. “You’re totally right. I kinda like the idea of a contract.”

“Yeah?” He asked a grin spreading on his face. “Okay. I can draft it in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure to talk it over with my lawyer,” you teased.

He kissed your cheek. “You’re already my favorite client,” he said before kissing your nose next.

You signed it over drinks then next day. The both of you sitting on the couch as you ‘negotiated’. With anyone else you would have felt silly, but with him you were laughing so much it made your stomach hurt.

Then you made out. Which was interrupted when his son called. Then you sipped on your wine as you curled into him.

He’d held up his end up of the bargain. You’d been a very willing participant. Happily taken part trust exercises as the both of you called them. Like the time you tested how he’d respond to your nonverbal safe word by as he fucked your face. Which he is as quick to ask you if you were okay only to be met by you giggling and smiling and telling him he passed your test. Which only made him chuckle before going back into it.

Clearly it had all paid off because now you were making out on the couch after dinner. Barely able to wait as he pushed your dress passed your waist. “Daddy,” you moaned.

Fuck it was like music to his ears. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, standing up with you in his arms. Fuck he needed you so damn bad. Making sure to get you undressed on the way to his bedroom. Leaving a trail of your clothes and his. Stopping to kiss you along the way. “Gonna finally let me take care of you right?” He asked as he was finally able to lay you down.

“Please,” you whimpered. Suddenly realizing just how badly you needed him. Fuck you should have just let him do this sooner. Andy Barber was clearly a trustworthy man. You don’t know why you were tripping so hard in the first place. He was obviously daddy material from the moment you met him.

He licked his lips as he put his forehead against yours. “Yeah?” He asked. “What do you want?" Then he grabbed your cheek when you tried to look away. Feeling intimated by his bedroom eyes.

Before you could answer, his hand got real close to your pussy. Thumb pressing into your clit making your eyebrow raising as he started rubbing that spot he knew was just right. Making you squeak out, “You.”

He chuckled. The noise vibrating deep in his chest. You looked so fucking cute laying there. All spread out. Eyes begging for him to make his next move. “Don’t play stupid with me.”

Your pussy had gotten so wet. Dripping down onto the sheets. He just got you like that. Almost like you never had a choice and he’d barely even done anything. The noise that fell from your lips was almost pornographic.

Then he shifted so he could replace it with the tip of his hard cock. Flicking at it. Not taking his eyes off of you as he angled himself at your entrance. Covering it in your wetness. Wishing he would stop teasing you because your pussy was aching so bad for him.

“I want you to be my daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he said before finally putting you out of your misery and sliding into you. Going about half way. Giving you a little time to adjust. Pussy tightening around him already.

His thickness feeling a little intrusive already in your pussy. You gasped. He kissed the corner of your mouth. Rocking into you slowly. Fuck it felt like your pussy was just begging him to go deeper.

Nose to yours as he inched in a little more. It made your breath hitch in your throat. Instead of going in deeper he pulled out to where his tip was the only thing in you again.

“Daddy,” you mewled. “Please. I need you so bad.”

“Tell daddy what you want, Baby.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You looked up at him with big watery eyes.

“Yeah?” He asked going back in half way. “How you want daddy to fuck you?”

“Like he owns it,” you whined.

“Aw, Baby,” he cooed before leaning down to kiss you. Taking the time to finally go in the rest of the way making you pull away to gasp.

“Fuck!”

“You want me to fuck your pussy like I own it,” he asked once again going to where only the tip was in before sliding in home.

You cried out. “Yes. Please, Daddy.”

“I can do that,” he cooed before kissing the side of your head. “I can do that, Baby.”

“I wanna be your slut.” You sniffled.

“I know.” He whispered still fucking into you nice and slowly. “You been my slut.”

“Please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He wrapped his hand around your neck as he pretty much shoved himself into you that time then went back to square one with only the tip. “Yeah? You think you can take my dick?”

“I can,” you promised.

Ah fuck he couldn’t tease you anymore. Your eyes shutting tight as he pushed into you. Thick cock feeling like it was splitting you open until he bottomed out. Giving you a minute to get used to his intrusion before capturing your lips in his.

You moaned into his mouth when he finally started to move. Hands going to his back so you could dig your nails into him. Crying out from how deep he was going.

It wasn’t to say he was being gentle, but he was giving you a moment to feel him without completely overwhelming you yet. It was more like a calm before the storm as he peppered your face in kisses and whispered, “You take your daddy’s dick so well, pretty girl.”

Your walls tightening around him, one of your legs over his shoulder. It felt so good but you needed something more. “Daddy,” you whined. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want,” he said. “Don’t play stupid. Use your fucking words.”

You let out a cute little squeak. “More. Fuck me harder.”

Andy pulled out. Flipping you onto your stomach and not waiting for you to get on your hands and knees before slamming in. You let out a scream as he did as you asked. Not letting up as he his hips back and forth into you.

“Yes!” You cried into the pillow.

“Yeah? What you want? Needed to get fucked like a whore,” he practically growled before smacking your ass. It was too much and somehow not enough. You wanted it all. Fuck your wanted to be his forever and ever. He felt so damn good.

You worked back against him. Finally feeling like everything you’d ever craved from a man was being fulfilled only in such a small amount of time. If any man deserved to be your Daddy it was Andy fucking Barber.

He’d proved it from the moment you met. Just the little things he I’ll did. Just how much he cared. You owed him your pussy for making him wait so long.

“That’s it. Fuck yourself on my cock,” he groaned watching your ass move back and forth onto him. Slapping against his pelvis every time.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you chanted with your face still in the pillow. He chuckled seeing you so desperate. You were so damn cute. Even when you were taking his cock. “I’m gonna cum!”

He grabbed your hand twisting it behind your back so he could really start driving into you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your boyfriend went exactly like you needed making you cum all over his thick cock.

“Fuck me. Do what you want I don’t care.” You’d officially been all fucked out and Andy had been waiting for this moment. For you to finally and fully submit to him in the way he knew you’d been too afraid to ask for before.

He grabbed your hair laughing at how far gone you were. “That’s my good girl. Gonna let me use this slutty pussy to get off.”

“Please don’t stop. Please.” You begged.

“Daddy’s not stopping until you can’t take anymore,” he replied. “You’ll be begging me to stop.”

You came again. Pussy clamping around thick cock again. Screaming daddy. Fuck he loved you like this. Using your body. Calling you names. Fuck. It was addicting.

Making you cum over and over because he wasn’t satisfied until tears were streaming down your face. Then he just made you do again because he wanted you to do it one more time as he sought out his own.

He’d wanted you back on your back for this. Wanted you to look him in the eyes as he pumped in and out of you. “Gonna cum in you, Baby. Gonna take my cum like a good fucking whore?”

“Uh huh,” you breathed because he’d officially broken you by now. “I’m daddy’s slut.”

Fuck that did it.

He doesn’t think he’d ever finished that hard. Body tightening up as he finally came deep inside of you. Making sure to get as far as he could before what felt like a never ending stream let go.

Andy was breathing hard as he laid down on top of you. Putting his head between your tits. Breathing hard, chests heaving.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. You threaded your hands through his hair. The both of you too blissed out to move. He hadn’t even fully pulled out yet.

He loved being so close to you like this after sex. You always said you loved his warmth. Then he’d roll over to pull you into him instead. Resting your head on his shoulder.

Andy kissed the top of your head. Still trying to catch your breaths. Just getting so close. Just like you needed to be.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you mumbled back despite being positively cock drunk.

“You okay? I wasn’t too rough?”

You shook your head. “It was perfect.”

“Glad you thought so,” he said. “Just give me twenty minutes. I gotta tie you up.”

[bbyheedeungie]

Tales of the ring | Orphan! Jay AU Part 1

Pairings: Jay x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut, age gap (4 years)

Warnings: suggestive content, messy timeline

Synopsis: You've spent most of your lives together at a Catholic orphanage in a small town, with Jay being left there as an infant and you volunteering there since you were thirteen years old. Now twenty-three, every child in the orphanage looks up to you as their older sister. Well, except for that one stubborn kid named Jay.

You always tend to his cuts and bruises when he fell down after climbing on trees with his friends, but not after a long hour of bickering.

"Stop climbing trees if you're just gonna fall down!" You scold 9-year old Jay as you rummaged through the first aid kit.

"Just shut up and fix me up, woman." He demands, his arms crossed over his chest. You sigh.

"I'm just worried about you, okay? You could've broken a bone or something!" You reasoned with him. His eyes turns into slits, glaring at you.

"Are you calling me a wimp?" He challenges. Though it never crossed your mind, the thought of calling him a wimp was indeed amusing. You tried to suppress your laughter but it came out as a snort.

"Hey, I'm not a wimp. Drop it." Jay says, almost coming out as a whine. You nod, trying to calm yourself down from wanting to laugh. Cause you know Jay's going to end you if he even hears anything close to a giggle come out from your lips.

_

"Still as wimpy as ever, huh?" You teased him as you disinfected his wounded knees. He was sitting on the couch with you kneeled infront of him, and 16 year old Jay just can't seem to take his eyes off you.

Your lower lip is caught in between your teeth as you concentrated on his cuts, and Jay licks his own lips unconsciously.

At 20 years old, you have grown to be quite a lady, Jay notes. Beautiful, luscious hair that complimented the perfect features of your face, your body slightly plump in some places which gave you that womanly figure, dainty and gentle hands that cared for his wounds, any man would think of you as wife material. And Jay couldn't help but huff in annoyance at the thought of other men wanting you for themselves.

"And you're still as annoying as ever." He mutters before he pinched your cheeks hard, making you yelp in pain and involuntarily putting pressure on the cotton ball you were dipping onto his wound. Soon after, you were both crying from pain.

"How could you." He said in betrayal, clutching his wounded knee.

You always chased after him around the orphanage when he had a fever to make him take his medicine when he refused to drink them, dragging him by the back of his shirt to his room to make him rest.

"You can't just pull a stunt like that when I'm fixing up your cuts you dummy." You glared at him, massaging your reddened cheek.

_

"I don't want to stay in bed, woman. I wanna play outside!" 11-year old Jay huffs in annoyance, kicking off the blanket you've just placed on his body. You sighed and placed it back on him.

"Bold of you to call me a woman after I've just wrestled you at the lobby earlier." 15-year old you chuckled, remembering what you had to go through to make him go back to his room.

"Don't remind me, you were like a freaking hippo back there! Geez." Jay scrunches his nose and turns his back to you.

_

"You insufferable woman." He mutters as you tuck him into his bed. 18-year old Jay was just as irritable as ever, but only when it came to you.

"Yeah yeah." You rolled your eyes at him dismissively as you placed a cold compress to his forehead. He's such a big baby.

"Stop being a jerk for once and learn to take care of yourself, will you?" You scold him, leaning in to fix the position of his pillow. Jay's heartbeat goes nuts, with your body so close above him. He could just grab you by the waist then and there and hold you tight. Your feminine scent was so alluring, filling up his senses, your skin translucent in the moonlight shining through the windows and he even caught a glimpse of your cleavage through your thin, white dress shirt.

Shit, shit, shit. He thinks, fisting his blanket tightly. His cheeks glowed crimson red, but thankfully you thought it was just because of the fever.

_

Rest assured, Jay wasn't all that bad as others make him out to be, and you strongly believe this. You remember that one night, it was your fourteenth birthday but you didn't bother telling anyone. You didn't want to burden the sisters, and your family didn't care much about it either. But Jay did. He cared, and he remembered.

You sat on the roof, your secret hiding place, as you admired the starry sky. But it's not really a secret when Jay knows about it. The ten year old boy climbed up, grunting as he struggled keeping his balance. You flinched at the sound and panicked, but it immediately died down when you saw it was just him. He quietly sat beside you.

Silence took over as you sighed in content, taking in the peaceful evening.

"Happy birthday." Jay said, almost a whisper. Your head turns to him and he immediately looks the other way, refusing to meet your eyes.

"Thank you, Jay." You said in gratitude, not bothering to hide your smile. He still refused to look your way as he held out his fist.

"What is it?" You asked in confusion, furrowing your eyebrows at his closed hand. He sighs, taking your hand in his as he placed something cold and hard on your palm.

"It's for you." He says. You gasped, taking in the shiny object encrusted with tiny jewels that glinted in the moonlight.

"Jay, where did you get this?" You ask him, bewildered.

"The sisters said they found that ring in my pocket when they found me outside the door of the orphanage the night that they took me in. It's my most precious possession. In fact, it's my only possession." He says, laughing lightly as he looked up at the sky.

"Must be an heirloom, maybe you came from a wealthy family! Jay, I can't accept this. This is important to you!" You exclaimed, holding the ring back to him.

You're important to me. He thinks.

"Maybe, but they've left me here haven't they?" He simply shrugs.

"But why give it to me?" You asked, holding the ring close to your chest. Jay rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue.

"Hey, no more questions. I gave it to you as a birthday gift, so you better treasure it. Good night." He says and prepares to climb down, leaving you dumbfounded.

_

At nineteen, Jay was the oldest at the orphanage. He never got adopted, and younger kids would pick on him because of it.

"You never got adopted because your a weirdo."

"They can probably sense that you're useless."

But Jay being Jay, he'd beat them up everytime just because their faces annoy him. And you'd be the one to ask for forgiveness for his sake everytime he got in trouble. You knew him well enough to know that although he'd never admit it out loud, seeing other kids like Jungwon and Sunoo get adopted while he gets left behind hurt him more than it should.

"I'm very sorry for Jay's actions, please don't send him away." You begged to the Mother Superior's feet, and Jay couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Not of you, but of himself for having you go through all this for him.

"Noona, please you don't have to do this." He tells you softly, for once as he tries pulling you up to your feet but you just won't budge.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I know you have grown quite close to Jay for the past ten years. But he is now of legal age he can't just keep hurting minors." The mother superior, which is the head of the orphanage states.

"Jay promises he won't do it again, please." You continue to plead, at this point you were so close at kissing the sister's feet if that'll make them forgive Jay.

"What, when did I promised—." He says and you signal him to shut up. The sisters sigh, and decide to just punish Jay by making him work at the farm for a month. You thank them over and over, tears welling in your eyes.

"Y/N, may I have a word with you. Jay, you may retire to your room." The mother superior instructs. Jay looks at you hesitantly, before leaving.

"Have a seat." She commands you, and you oblige.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You asked.

"Listen, dear. You're now twenty-three years old, you are at your ripest age of getting married. Not only that, but you're also one of the most beautiful maidens of this town. You can't spend your life at this orphanage forever. Won't you consider settling down soon?" She suggests, and you felt a lump in your throat, your heart feeling unease.

"That's alright, Mother Superior. I'm only twenty-three, I still have a lot to figure out in my life. When a man does take interest in me, I'll decide then." You assure her, and stand up to leave.

The next days, you'd wake up early to prepare breakfast for the kids and for Jay before he heads off to the farm. Jay being the stubborn boy he is, refuses to sit down and have breakfast and so on most days, you'd chase after him to bring him his breakfast and lunch box. He'd purposely walk faster, ignoring your shouts. A smirk never leaving his face.

"Jay! Jay! Wait!" You yelled, chasing your breath as you continued to run after him. But your quick steps were no match for his long strides.

"Jay you freaking dimwit! Haaaaalt!" You yell at the top of your lungs with all your might, and he finally stops in his tracks, turning to look at you.

"Oh, you've been calling for me? Did you need something?" He asks, feigning ignorance that you've been shouting his name for a good fifteen minutes. You huff, stomping towards him angrily. His face smug the whole time.

Others would think you're ready to punch him in the face, but instead you would take his hand and place his boxed meal there. You sigh.

"Take care of yourself, okay? And finish everything I packed for you." You say. Jay simply rolls his eyes and waves a hand at you dismissively.

"Yeah yeah, just don't go missing me too much." He teases, suppressing a smile. You scoffed, punching his shoulder lightly.

"Damn right, I wont." You stuck your tongue at him before waving him goodbye, running back to the orphanage.

As you walked back, you notice a fancy carriage parked in front of the orphanage. Many people were gathered around, gossiping.

"The crown prince has selected candidates to be his wife."

"Now that the queen has passed away, the prince must choose his bride in order to ascend to the throne."

"Oh what a lucky girl she must be."

You slip through the crowd of people, successfully making your way inside.

"Oh here she is now." Mother Superior introduces you to the men in fancy clothing, and you stood their dumbfounded.

"She is a beauty indeed." The men agreed to themselves.

"What exactly is happening?" You whisper to the Mother Superior.

"They came here for you, my child. You have been selected by the prince to become a candidate of being his wife. I've already had your suitcases ready, they will take you to the palace now. And don't worry, I've already informed your parents and they are more than happy and wished you the best."

Everything was happening so fast, it's like everything's been decided for you. And amidst the chaos in your mind, you could only think of one person. Jay.

"What about Jay, I haven't said goodbye—" You pleaded to the old woman to let you see Jay one last time but the footmen has announced your departure to the palace. You choked on your tears as pain burned through your chest, clutching Jay's ring to your chest as you were brought further and further away from the place you called home all your life.

Jay plowed the soil over and over, sweat trickling down his neck and forehead. The sun is high and the heat is a pretty tough companion.

"Jay! Jay!" Jay's friend, Sunghoon called his name, sprinting towards him as if his life depended on it. Sunghoon was one of the orphan kids who got adopted recently, whose home was only a few blocks away from the orphanage. Jay halted his work, placing the tool beside him.

"Haven't seen you in a while, what brings you here?" He raises his eyebrow. Sunghoon holds onto his knees as he catches his breath, before uttering words that shattered Jay's heart into pieces.

"No, it can't be." He refuses to believe it, shaking his head aggressively as tears welled in his eyes. It felt as if he was pierced so deeply in the chest with a dagger, so agonizingly painful.

"It is true, they took Y/N to the palace to become the prince's bride. It's been the talk of the town all morning." Sunghoon is sad for his friend, knowing his feelings for her all along.

"No! Y/N wouldn't do that, she wouldn't leave just like that. No." Jay cried and ran his way back to the orphanage, leaving his belongings behind.

He enters the orphanage, screaming for your name.

"Noona? Noona! I'm here, I'm here now. Noona? Where are you?" He kept on calling for you, his voice breaking as tears blurred his vision. The sisters tried to calm him down but he shoved their hands away from him.

"No! It can't be, she couldn't have left. Please tell me she didn't leave, please." Jay crumbled as he called your name over and over in agony. He begged for everything to be just some sick joke, a prank you planned to get back at him for always being so mean to you.

"Y/N." He choked out before everything spiraled infront of him and went black.