#sunflower smiles ♡

[moonstruckme]

As promised: more roommate!james

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Thunder crashes. A branch from the tree outside smacks into your bedroom window, making you jump. You smile a little at your reaction, and a frisson goes up your spine, giddy. 

You’re kind of in a euphoric state tonight. 

The storm came in early, darkening the sky hours before its time and bringing torrents of rain down upon your home. Immediately, your windows had been opened, your candles lit, and you were curled up on your bed with a book in your hands. 

Downstairs, you can hear the familiar buzz of the TV playing one of James’ sports games. The whole apartment smells like the cookies you made earlier, which you have a small plate of next to you and which your roommate had moaned as he’d bitten into upon you offering some to him. Sweetheart, keep spoiling me like this and you’ll never get me to leave. 

Suffice to say, you’ve been having a fairly good evening. 

Your book is just starting to pick up when the TV quiets. Everything quiets. There’s a thud, followed by a hissed curse. 

You laugh a little. Pick up your phone. 

Alright down there? You text James. 

More thudding sounds. You think about picking your book back up, but decide to wait.

If I were bleeding out on the living room floor, do you think I’d be able to text you back?

A moment later: If you wanted to do a thorough job of seeing I was alright, you should have come and seen for yourself.

Then: And I heard you laughing.

You smile to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping you. Sorry, can’t, you reply. Too cozy. 

You hear his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, and you have only a few moments to brace yourself before he’s swinging open your door. 

Lately, your body has been doing this thing where he looks at you and it’s like the ground softens beneath you. Luckily, you’re already on a bed, so it’s not really possible this time. 

James shuts off the flashlight on his phone, looking around your room with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Woah. Are you having a seance in here?” 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way the candlelight plays prettily over his features. “You’re just jealous that I was prepared for the power to go out and you weren’t.” 

“It looks like you were hoping for it.” James grins. He starts to cross the room, and you’re like a sunflower to your light as you tilt to face him. 

He lays down next to you on your bed, on his stomach with his forearms propping him up. It’s a somewhat tight fit, but James doesn’t seem to mind the way his hip and shoulder are touching yours. His shampoo smell wraps around you like a hug. 

You pick up your tea as an excuse not to look at him, blowing softly before taking a sip. James watches you consideringly. 

“You really are thriving in here, aren’t you?” he teases softly. “Look at you, you’ve got your fuzzy socks on, your tea, your book. You’re in paradise.” 

You smile sheepishly as you set your tea down on the floor. “Sorry you couldn’t finish your game.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “I’d rather hang with you anyway.” 

You feel your brows furrow, a confusing mass of emotions knotting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you tell him softly.

You can feel James’ gaze warming the side of your face. His voice is just as quiet. “Why not?” 

You look over, and his eyes don’t flit away like a sane person’s would. They’re steady and warm as the flames around you. Instantly the room feels too small, him a little too close. 

James’ smile is almost tentative. “Look, I know you drew the short stick with this roommate agreement, but I plan to soak up as much roomie time as I can get. Sorry.” 

“I did not,” you murmur. 

“Didn’t what?” 

“You drew the short stick.” Your face burns. You know James too well to think he’d be making fun of you, but it’s difficult to imagine an alternative. He can’t really think you don’t like having him as a roommate after all the ways he’s been a friend to you, the times he’s stepped in to help, when you’ve only been a burden and a drag. “Not me.” 

His eyebrows twitch closer to each other, and his lips tilt bemusedly, as though they’re unsure of what else to do. The lenses of his glasses reflect the candlelight, brown eyes molten behind them. 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he says. The air between you feels thick and sweet. Your heart seems to know something you don’t, quickening its rhythm in your chest. Then, because it’s James, he flicks up a brow. “Truce?” 

You laugh quietly, turning your face down towards your book. There are goosebumps going all down your arms. “Sure,” you say. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “Glad that’s settled.” 

You don’t respond this time. You’re not sure you can. The words on your page blur by, unnoticed and unimportant.

Lightning cracks outside. You gasp and turn to see it, and James’ lips meet you there. 

You should have known he would be soft like this. You’ve kept yourself from thinking about it, but you could have guessed. The first gentle, warm press of his mouth is so lovely you get lost in it, but when it lasts for too long and he starts to draw back, you remember that you can move, too. 

He takes in a tiny inhale when you part your lips for him, his hand finding your waist and his body curving over yours. Your arm falls out from under you, and James follows you down. He tastes sweet and familiar, like home. 

You bring your hands up to his face, one resting tentatively on his cheek while the other toys with the idea of slipping its fingers into his hair. The sky rumbles outside. Your heart pitters. 

“It’s okay,” James mumbles. His voice buzzes against your lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart, please.” 

You grasp at the roots of his hair, palm settling more surely on his cheek, and James makes a sound low in his throat. He breaks the kiss to pull off his glasses. You take them from where he sets them on the bed, placing them more carefully on the floor where they’re not so likely to get crushed. His lips curve over yours. You think that if you were to detour to either side, you might find a dimple in his cheek. 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Oh, it’s James again now, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “What is it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a nonsensical question, but in fairness you think all the blood that’s supposed to be in your brain has gone to your lips, and James seems to get what you mean anyway. 

He chuckles quietly. “I am, yeah.” He makes a sound that’s almost like a sigh, hand climbing up your back until it’s trapped between your shoulders and your bed. “I don’t ever tell you how lovely you are, but I’ve…I’m sure. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I think so.” 

“That’s okay.” James kisses your chin, the curve of your jaw. 

“You’re lovely, too,” you tell him somewhat desperately. His lashes tickle your cheek. Your fingers are still burrowed in the hair at his nape. “I never tell you. I like when you’re here.” 

You feel his smile bloom against your skin. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he says, voice light with teasing. 

You frown, wishing he would take you seriously. “I do. I really like you.” 

“I think I like you more.” 

You scoff. He nips at your jaw, surprising a laugh out of you. “You can’t always win,” you say. 

James makes a happy humming sound. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

[st4rbwrry]

𝒩𝒪𝒪𝒦𝐼𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: getou isn’t fond of the new gardener you hired who’s clearly flirting with you when he’s not home.

warnings ౨ৎ 2.7k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, cunninglingus/face riding, cottage core au? + getou’s a farmer, missionary in da kitchen, praising ofc, exhibitionism, jealousy, possessiveness, getou’s kinda rude, sub / dom dynamic, established relationship, rough play, m oral, impact play, unprotected, pet names ex. [ baby, sweetheart ], minors aren’t welcomed! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

getou doesn’t appreciate that you aren’t greeting him with his usual kisses after you raise on your tippy toes to smooch him after he comes home from a long day of churning butter and tending to livestock. it doesn’t make him happy to know that you’re not tending to his attention and rather giving it to another man after he strolls through your large kitchen, that he built for you, to head into the back of your farmhouse to find you giggling and conversing with the new gardener. a gardener that you personally hired that he had yet to meet.

he could smell the pan of shepherds pie and cornbread in the oven, ignoring the way his stomach growls hungrily and it quickly being consumed with irritation. you’re wearing your cute pink apron with tiny patterns of sunflowers and bunnies as you hold a woven basket of freshly picked strawberries the man before you tossed into. having a conversation about fucking strawberries. he didn’t expect this man to be. . . of your type. tall, nice smile, good hair, makes you laugh a little too fucking hard. what about fruits could possibly be so fucking funny, [♡]?

“what a surprise,” getou’s voice is laced with annoyance, deep and causing the two to go silent as he makes his way down the steps to stand directly next to you. you blink, knowing your husband very well and easily you could tell he’s off.

“hi, baby! this is matteo, he’s our new gardener! we were talking a lot about the new setup i plan on having!” the smile on your face is pure, looking back and forth between getou and your gardener. “he just started today.”

“hey, man. nice to meet you. your wife told me all about you,” matteo remains professional, extending his hand for a handshake. you roll your lips in, waiting for your husband to comply with respect. it’s silent as you stare between both men, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise from anxiousness.

“mhm,” is all getou can say, matteo taken aback by his approach. it’s extremely rude, and you blink excessively to keep your composure. taking a deep breath, you form a tight lipped smile towards your gardener.

“excuse me for a moment,” you speak, side eyeing getou before pulling him to the side, matteo continuing his job by picking juicy fruits from their stems.

“what’s your deal? that was fucking rude,” you denounce, gawking up at him with a raised brow. getou folds his bulky arms, not understanding how you’re acting dumb right now. you knew this would piss him off.

getou leans down to get closer to you, lips inches from your ear. “who told you to hire somebody like this?"

"hire somebody like what?" the man retaliates, overhearing getou’s weak attempt of whispering to you, taking offense. regardless, he spoke on his name when he was right there.

getou turns his face only an inch or so, barely giving the man full attention. you swallow, his face nearly touching your own possessively, like an animal protecting it’s mate. getou then switches his eyes fully, intensely staring at the man. "like someone she'd fuck."

his immature response causes you to step away from him with a look of disgust, brows pinched with anger. you couldn’t believe his mouth. you’re not sure what the fuck’s gotten into him, but it wasn’t cute. quite frankly, he looked stupid.

“you’re making a fucking fool of yourself,” you spat, eyes burning. knocking your head back in the sweet gardeners direction, you hold your hand over your heart apologetically. “i am truly sorry for my husband’s rudeness. please forgive me for this, but i think it’s best if you go. i will give you a call tomorrow. i’m sorry again.”

the man nods only once, keeping his focus solely on you, not even bothering to glance in your husband’s direction. his possessiveness a black cloud over the party. “it’s not a problem at all. have a great rest of your day, ma’am.”

the minute your gardener is out of view, that’s when you give getou an irritated snarl, looking him up and down as if the man had no shame. which he didn’t, and that was the problem. “what is wrong with you?!”

getou intakes air as you strut away angrily, heading back into your kitchen to adapt into the ignoring him bubble and completely tuning into your dinner prepping. since you have freshly picked strawberries, you decided to start a mixture for muffins you could sell to the neighborhood tomorrow morning. a festival was being held at the ranch a few blocks down, already promising a few ladies you’d whip something up sweet.

getou follows behind, studying as you huff and puff to yourself while gathering eggs, milk and other things you needed.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“because it’s fucking stupid. why’d i hire someone to help me out? oh my god, such a mystery.”

“you’re being immature.”

that causes you to stop all movements. holding onto the edges of the island and staring at him with disbelief, mouth actually drawn open as you scoff. “i’m immature? because you didn’t just disrespect that man for no reason. you know him or sum?”

“don’t act slow. you hired that man ‘cause he’s someone you can eye fuck when i’m not home. don’t pretend you don’t find him attractive,” getou grits his teeth.

you roll your eyes. “ohh, so it’s jealousy! why would i want to cheat on someone i’m in love with? you’re being extremely distrustful. take that shit out of my kitchen, suguru.”

“say that again,” he’s approaching you now, getou observing as you cross your arms and pretend to be unfazed by how much bigger he was compared to you. his bare feet thumps along the floor as he nears you, hands in the pockets of his dark washed jeans, shoulders broad as he stared down at you darkly. now your body’s pressed up against the kitchen counter, turning your head the opposite way to avoid eye contact.

“suguru,” you stand on what you say, uncaring. your husband deviously grins.

getou kisses his teeth smugly. you practically moan when his hand grips your jaw to bring your attention back, fingers denting into your cheeks to make your lips pout, head tilted back. “watch that mouth of yours. there’s no need to be bratty.”

teeth sinks into your lips he gawks at for a split second before meeting your eyes again. a feeble noise comes from you as he swiftly pulls up your white sundress, hands on the backs of your thighs to spread you open, fingers pulling your pussy open. not surprised to see you weren't wearing underwear. really, that pisses him off even further. it’s windy out and you were engaging in conversation with that man knowing your pussy was bare. he wants to laugh, seeing how wet you are already. fucking nympho. even though you’re mad, you can’t ignore how hot his touch makes you. you gulp, holding onto the edge of the counter as your gut flips after he crouched on one knee.

his breath hits your clit, and instantly your thighs tremble, getou slowly sticking his tongue out his mouth, wide, long, and slick with saliva. it hovers over your clit, barely touching it. part of you wants to grab his hair and shove him down, but the look in his eyes says not to try it. his fingers come up to your face, extending two of the long digits inside of your mouth. you suck obediently, moaning around them while rolling forward towards his, aching for it. his free hand smacks your inner thigh causing you to release his fingers and whimper, getou wasting zero time and curling them deep into you, shaking them frivolously as his lips suction on your clit, kissing your pussy deeply, using so much saliva.

his stare is hard on you the entire time, wrist moving instantaneously as he fucks you with them. he’s having a ball watching you wither and roll your hips, squealing and raising your thighs higher to your chest, listening to his fingers slam into you, that gushing sound of your pussy coating his fingers.

"c-can’t. . .”

"shut up," briskly, he pulls his fingers out and spanks your clit with them, standing to his feet, towering over you. you rest your head back against the wall by the window, shifting your body since your ass hurt a little from being on a granite countertop.

most of his words are blocked out as you watch the sexually pent-up man drag his pants down until they sit at his waist, pussy clenching at the dark pubic hairs sticking out, lust in your eyes as his veiny, big hand fists his cock. the thick vein leading up to the crown leaking precum makes you smile hazily.

"look at me when i’m talking to you."

you're too fucking mesmerized by him. his slightly dirty white tshirt is hiked up now, godly sculpted abs enticing you to run your fingers over them with a giddy laugh. getou tilts his head to the side, clenching his jaw.

"hey," he calls to you, snapping his fingers twice in your face, voice deeper than usual. you can see that he's not up for bullshit. he’s arched over you, hair sticking to his forehead as he places his right hand on your lower back, arching into him until your chest presses against his. "listen to me when i talk to you, woman.”

the smell of his skin is intoxicating, reaching your hands behind him to claw at his ass, open mouth on his chin, moaning as he slides deep into you, looking down at you with a groan escaping his throat, furrowing his thick brows. getou tries not to lose it, because despite his frustration, there's no way he could deny just how fucking good you felt pulling him deep right now. you hold tight, eyes hazy as he pounds into you without another word, arm stretching over to press his palm on the cabinet above, balancing himself and dragging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

"pussy so needy for me. it fuckin’ better be,” please shut up, is what you think. his voice is too damn addictive, and the way he fucks you, virulently, like he fucking despised you . . . you didn't know if you could take much more. the other half of your brain is the opposite, thanking him over and over.

"oh, look, princess. there’s your favorite man,” it doesn't register that the two of you are legit fucking near an open window where anyone could see. “let’s say hi, baby."

unsure why he came back, it only takes ten seconds for your sweet gardener to immediately be swept with trauma, catching a glimpse at the two of you, getou’s dark eyes burning into him while yours are shut to hide the embarrassment, stomach still flipping with rouse. his fingers has your jaw locked still to keep your fucked out face in the direction of the man who’s nothing short of unimpressed. tasteless, he thinks. wasting no time and turning away to hop back inside of his truck, only coming because he forgot to give you back the key to your garage. his lips are by your ear now. "looks like we’ll have to hire someone else.”

"you’re s-so . . . mean,” it’s the only thing you can think of, trembling and yanking your face out of his grasp. you wanna say you hate him, but deep down you knew this is what you've been craving all along. he’s exactly how you wanted him to be; lecherous. "fuck, can’t stand you.”

"you love me, sweetheart,” he coed, you hiccup. sobbing as he throws one of your legs over his arm, angling his hips slightly to the right and hitting into you faster, rolling your neck back, listening to how viscous his skin claps with your own, and his breath fans over your face.

"awe," he pouts, giving your forehead a chaste kiss. "y‘not gonna say it back?”

“d’nt deserve it,” you’re slurring your words and it pisses you off how dumb he makes you. his hand is around your neck now, choking you until you feel the blood rushing to your skull, luring the back of your own hand to your lips, using it as some sort of blockage for how loud you were being. louder than usual.

inching his lips towards yours, he studies how desperate you are to latch your lips with his, only for him to snatch them away. “then you don’t deserve my kiss.”

a frustrated whine leaves your throat, getou humming tauntingly, delicately skimming his bitten red lips over yours with a moan following along with a whispered ‘no’. tightening his lock around your neck, he rolls his hips deeper, your hand clutching his wrist with tears in your eyes. “not until you tell me you love me.”

you gently sink your teeth into the back of your hand, getou leaning closer before sloppily kissing at your palm where your lips rested, an evil stare painted his expression. he sucks, licks, and moans on your hand, knowing you were wishing he'd do that to your mouth instead. fuck, that was enough to get you to the breaking point. thighs trembling as you drop your mouth open, nothing coming out.

"wait, are you gonna cum?" his mouth upturns as he widens his eyes and mouth with fake surprise. "you’re cumming, aren't you? don’t cum. if you cum, i’ll stop."

"suguru, fucking stop—"

"stop what, huh? why you talkin' back?" shoving his thumb in your mouth, he fucks you harder, body jolting as your eyes roll back and your mouth drools, clutching his wrist harder to keep him there. "weren't you gonna cum?"

"yessss!" you wail, tears falling down your eyes. that coil in the pit of your stomach is ready to snap, getou’s sadistic voice ringing in your ears as he praises you, hips ramming harder to get you to break, clutching the back of his neck and screaming into his chest, giving him the answer he wants, riding the wave. "love you. love you.”

“good girl, good girl,” he proceeds to fuck you through it, just enough until you're pushing at his stomach to stop, kissing up the side of his neck drunkenly. getou slides out of you, holding back a moan before he's grabbing your hand and pulling you off the counter, holding your waist so you don't fall over.

"knees, now."

you're more than happy to lower to your knees, already knowing what to prepare for, lulled, teary eyes focusing on him and the slick coated cock stretching over your face. you hold onto the back of his thighs, widening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, getou holding your head still before gliding his dick inside the cave of heat now inundating him, jaw dropping, using the other hand to hold the cabinet once more and mercilessly fucking your throat. his moans are coarse, grunting and throwing his head back, hips stuttering as he holds you still and shoots deep in your mouth, cursing thousands of times he nearly filled the dictionary.

"swallow it and show me," and you do, without hesitation, sticking your tongue out proudly and it makes getou even prouder. "that’s my girl."

"whatever," you wipe the side of your mouth, getou lifting you off the floor, legs still too weak to function.

“there’s that mouth again, sweetheart. cut it short before i fuck you harder,” oh, he’s serious. that darkness in his eyes telling you not to try it again.

“s-sorry, baby. love you,” you give him those pretty doe eyes he falls weak to, rubbing your hands over his waist while placing your chin on his chest. batting your lashes innocently.

getou hums. “tell me that after you get rid of that fuckin’ gardener.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[witchywithwhiskey]

assembling legos in avengers tower

pairing: captain america!steve rogers x shield agent!female reader

summary: you want to spend a night assembling legos with steve rogers, but when he proves to be too good at it, you have to get creative.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established relationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, teasing, begging, dirty talk, praise kink, captain kink, pet names (buttercup, daisy, sunflower, honeysuckle), lots of kissing, lots of fluff and silliness, avengers tower shenanigans

word count: 4.9k

a/n: this fic is entirely inspired by a conversation i had with my therapist last week where she was helping me think of things to do to disconnect from social media and give myself a break from the world. i mentioned i had a box of lego daffodils i hadn't put together and she encouraged me to do that. however, i finished those in like a couple hours and now i need more... anyway, i hope y'all enjoy this bit of fluff/smut and i hope it's a nice distraction from the world!! ♡

“A daisy for my pretty girl.”

You were focused on assembling a plastic version of a queen anne’s lace when a pretty pink Lego gerbera daisy appeared in your eye line. Steve Rogers’ comfortingly deep voice and the flower he offered dragged your attention from what you’d been doing and you looked up for the first time in half an hour. 

You were curled up on the couch in Steve’s suite, assembling Legos in Avengers Tower on the rare night off he had from his duties as Captain America. He’d been sitting beside you, working away at his own flowers on the coffee table, but had clearly decided to get your attention with the pink daisy he’d finished. 

For a moment after you looked up from your own Lego flower, you were distracted by just how good Steve looked in a simple white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He always looked good, of course, but there was something especially delightful and attractive about seeing him in casual, cozy clothes. 

It almost made you want to abandon the Lego wildflower bouquet you were assembling together and slide into his lap. Suddenly, all you could think about was burying your fingers in his soft blond hair and having his sparkling blue eyes focused entirely on you for the rest of the night. But instead, you blinked and refocused on the moment. 

“Aw, thank you, captain,” you murmured, a smile curving your lips as you took the plastic flower from Steve and gave it a pretend sniff while batting your lashes at him. “My favorite.” Your words were little more than a purr, and you couldn’t help the way your smile widened when a pink flush dotted Steve’s cheeks.

It was on the tip of your tongue to suggest that you and Steve leave the rest of the Lego bouquet to be assembled another time, but then your gaze fell on the nine already-finished flowers that were neatly lined up on the table in front of the couch. Your smile fell.

Steve had already put together more than half of the flowers that had come in the box, and you still hadn’t finished a single one. Briefly, you were confused about how he’d put them together so fast—until you remembered something that often slipped peoples’ minds when it came to Captain America.

Everyone knew that Steve Rogers’ strength and stamina were enhanced when he’d been given the super-soldier serum in the 1940s, but most folks forgot that his intellect had been heightened as well. It was why he was the trusted leader of the Avengers—Steve had a knack for strategizing in the midst of battle. 

It also made him a wiz at puzzles. 

You should’ve known that Steve would easily zip through his half of the Lego bouquet while you toiled over a single flower. You knew he was smarter than the world—and even some of the other Avengers—gave him credit for, and you were disappointed in yourself for not thinking through the idea of assembling Legos together.

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Steve was also much more perceptive than most gave him credit for, and he noticed your change in mood immediately.

“What’s wrong, daisy?” Steve asked, cupping your cheek in his large palm and turning your face gently to look at him. 

His brows were drawn together, and you knew instantly that he’d caught the slightly crestfallen look on your face. Before you could muster a smile and assure him everything was fine, Steve went on, his thumbs brushing your cheeks in a gesture so achingly soft, a lump of emotion formed in your throat. 

“Did I do something?”

“No, no, no, it’s nothing—really,” you said in a rush, trying to shake your head and show him that you were being silly. But your reaction only had Steve frowning even more.

Gently, he scooped you up off the couch and deposited you on his lap, arranging your body so you sat across his thighs, your legs curled up while he wrapped one arm around your back. Once you were settled, he cupped your chin in his other hand and tilted your face up so he could look into your eyes.

“Tell me, sunflower, please,” Steve rumbled, his final word a rasping plea that tugged so effectively at your heart, you couldn’t help but do as he so sweetly asked. 

“I just thought we’d spend a little more time working on these together, that’s all,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze to the corner of Steve’s mouth, which was turned down in a slight frown. You wanted to reach up and smooth away that unhappy curve with your fingers, but you knew it wouldn’t work. Steve could be stubborn when he wanted. 

“I���m sorry, buttercup,” Steve said in a hushed, regretful voice, ducking his head and pressing an apologetic kiss to your forehead.

You let out a soft, happy sigh as your eyes fluttered closed and you sank into the warmth of Steve’s body, snuggling deeper into his chest. You were wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts and a pair of leggings, so you weren’t necessarily cold, but you enjoyed the heat that emanated from him all the same.

“It’s ok, Steve, really,” you whispered, meaning the reassuring words more than you had a moment ago. Your thoughts were already straying to what you and Steve could do with the rest of the night alone in his suite…

You tipped your face up toward his, pouting your lips in a wordless plea for a kiss.

A chuckle rumbled deep in Steve’s chest moments before his lips brushed against yours. You could feel the smile in the gentle press of his lips, and your mouth curved in an answering smile, a giggle building in your chest at how silly the two of you must’ve looked—smiling at each other with your lips pressed together. 

But then Steve’s mouth pressed more firmly to yours, kissing you a little harder and a little longer, and the smile slipped off your face, your fingers curling into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You tugged him closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips sliding slowly against yours like he had all the time in the world and didn’t want to do anything other than kiss you.

The two of you sank deeper into the kiss together, your bodies growing heated and your hands beginning to wander. A hard bulge nudged against your thigh and Steve groaned into your mouth, and you suddenly had an idea.

Pulling away from Steve, you ended the kiss abruptly, a grin spreading across your face as you watched the big, blond man blink his way back into the present. He looked so cute all dazed out from kissing you that you took a moment to appreciate it before voicing your idea.

“I know how to make it more difficult for you to put Legos together so fast,” you said, your voice slightly wheezing as you worked to catch your breath. “We just need some more Lego flowers.”

Steve’s kiss-swollen lips curved into a smile of his own. “I think we can manage that, honeysuckle,” he murmured, his expression filled with affection as he took in the excitement on your face. “Just one more kiss first.” 

He reeled you in for another slow, drugging kiss, his mouth stealing the smile from your lips, though you were happy to give it to him if he kept kissing you like it was all he wanted to do.

A little later in the evening, Steve’s suite in Avengers Tower was piled high with dozens and dozens of boxes filled with Lego botanicals of all sorts. There were boxes for sunflowers and daffodils, two types of flower bouquets, and even a whole heaping pile of cacti and succulents. 

It was more than you’d ever know what to do with, but Steve looked so pleased with himself, all you could do was smile. If he wanted to spend the rest of his nights off with you, assembling Lego flowers, who were you to complain? It sounded like a dream come true.

“Bought out everything from the Botanical Collection at the Lego store over on fifth,” Steve was saying proudly as he opened a couple daffodil sets, pouring out the plastic packages onto the coffee table while you watched him with amusement. Steve cut his eyes to you and smirked as he said, “I put it all on Tony’s card—d’you think he’ll notice, buttercup?”

You couldn’t help yourself, you tossed your head back and cackled at that. You knew, as a member of the Avengers’ SHIELD support team, that Tony Stark had given all the members of the team access to his credit cards “for emergencies only,” and you were frankly surprised no one else had thought to use it to prank him before. 

When you finally got yourself under control and looked back at the mischievous Captain America, you shook your head at him. Your heart gave a little extra thump of delight when you saw the way Steve was looking at you, with so much happiness and affection, it made emotion clog your throat. It took you a full minute to gather your thoughts enough to answer his question. 

“Nah, there’s no way,” you scoffed, but then you tilted your head to the side and really thought about it. Your eyes trailed over the boxes. There were just so many. 

You figured Tony would leave something boring like financial statements to Pepper Potts, but there might be another way for Steve’s late-night Lego shopping spree to be used as a way to prank the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…

“Y’know, he might notice something when Lego flowers start popping up all around the tower,” you said slowly, cutting your eyes to Steve and offering him your own impish smirk. “Do you wanna see how many we can put in his lab before he says something?”

Steve’s head tipped back and he gave a great, booming laugh that filled all the corners of his suite. When he looked back at you, his blue eyes were sparkling with playfulness and his mouth was spread in a wide grin. 

“You’re diabolical, daisy,” he rumbled, pulling you closer on the couch so he could catch your lips in a kiss. 

It didn’t last long, both of you were too busy laughing to deepen it, but you did throw a leg over Steve’s thighs so you could sit in his lap. When you finally pulled away, you quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You up for the top secret mission, Cap?” you asked in a deceptively serious tone, the corners of your mouth flickering as you tried to hold back your grin. “You gonna help me prank Tony Stark?”

“Gladly,” Steve declared, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. 

All the evil plans that had been brewing in your mind disappeared when your heated core settled against the thick bulge in Steve’s sweatpants, a delighted gasp tumbling from your lips. Your gaze found Steve’s and a thrum of desire pulsed between your thighs when you saw how much his eyes had darkened.

“But first,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back beneath the sweatshirt you wore, making you tremble deliciously in his lap. “I’d like to hear more about how you’re planning to make it more difficult for me to assemble all these Lego flowers.”

Steve’s mouth captured yours in a searing kiss and it would be another long few minutes before you were able to actually tell him what you had planned for him.

“Hah! Another daisy done,” you crowed, bouncing a little on Steve’s lap and dragging a deep groan from the man beneath you.

The movement of your body had shifted his cock inside you, his thick, sensitive length dragging against your warm, inner walls, which were hugging him tightly while you exulted in your accomplishment. You’d managed to finish seven flowers since you’d put your plan into action, and you had no idea what kind of progress he’d made.

You did, however, know he was enjoying himself, if his deep moans and muffled groans were anything to go by. There was also the way his cock throbbed inside you every so often, like his body was encouraging yours to move, even though the point of your plan had been to sit still on his lap.

It had come to you earlier in the evening when you’d felt his hard bulge against your thigh—the only way to slow down Captain America’s super-soldier-enhanced intellect was to distract him. And you’d come up with the perfect way of distracting him.

Once you’d explained your plan to Steve, he’d been all too eager to enact it, sitting on the floor in front of the couch and pushing down the hem of his sweatpants so his cock had bobbed free. You’d discarded your leggings and panties before lowering yourself down on his lap, taking his thick, hard length deep into your pussy while you straddled his legs.

For the next half hour or so, you’d been assembling Lego wildflowers on the couch cushions behind Steve’s shoulders and he’d been working away at his own box of daffodils on the coffee table—all while trying not to get distracted by the way your pussy was dripping all over his thick cock.

Leaning back so you could catch Steve’s eye, you grinned at the pinkness in his cheeks and the slightly hazy look in his blue eyes. 

“You doing alright, captain?” you asked teasingly, your fingers trailing along Steve’s sharply cut jaw to turn his head so he’d look at you. His blue eyes were dark with lust as he blinked them into focus, a snarl of barely held restraint in the twist of his soft mouth. “It’s been a little while since you gave me any sort of update on how your flowers are coming along.”

You clenched your inner walls around Steve’s cock on the word ‘coming’ as a way to taunt the large blond man, and were satisfied by the way he grunted in pleasure, his eyes sliding closed. Plastic clattered on the coffee table when his hands abandoned the daffodil he’d been assembling to grab your hips, like he couldn’t stop himself from touching you any longer.

Steve huffed a laugh as he opened his eyes again, catching your gaze and groping your soft flesh a little roughly. He smirked when your mouth fell open and your eyes went heavy-lidded, his strong fingers working their way down to your ass as he kneaded your curves the way you liked—possessively.

“When you said you had an idea to make things more difficult for me, I thought you meant a blindfold, or hiding the directions,” Steve rumbled, his smirk turning playful and mischievous. 

His expression was your only warning, but you didn’t have a chance to prepare yourself. 

“Not this.” He thrust up from beneath you, slamming deep into your dripping pussy.

A moan wrenched free from your lips, pleasure bursting through your body at the friction of his cock dragging against your inner walls, the tip bullying against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You collapsed against Steve’s broad chest, gasping for air as you recovered from the single, brutal thrust.

It had been difficult to ignore the constant, throbbing perfection of Steve being inside you while you were cockwarming Captain America, but you’d done your best so that you could make headway in assembling your Lego wildflowers.

And, of course, it had become a stubborn stand-off between the two of you, where you both were holding out on giving in to your bodies’ desires. 

That hadn’t stopped you from taunting Steve, though, and you’d told him there was only one thing he could do that would make you forget about the Lego flowers entirely. He just hadn’t been willing to do it—but you smirked into his neck as you caught your breath, thinking he was finally ready to be done with the stand-off.

“If you want to fuck me, captain, you know what you have to do,” you purred in his ear, pulling away and nipping at his jaw, wringing another tortured groan from the super-soldier. “You just have to admit I’m the best Lego flower assembler in the tower.”

Steve had initially chuckled at your silly demand, playfully telling you he’d only admit such a thing when you assembled as many flowers as him. 

But the way his cock throbbed inside you when you called him ‘captain’ and the way his hands were desperately groping your hips, ass and thighs—any soft part of you he could reach beneath your sweatshirt—told you he had reached his limit. So, his next words didn’t come as much of a surprise.

“You are, honeysuckle, you’re the best Lego flower assembler in the whole fucking tower,” Steve rasped, his hips rocking slightly, like he simply couldn’t stop himself from fucking you even a little bit. His fingers were digging deep into the soft flesh of your body, moving you back and forth to grind on his cock. “You’re the best in the whole city—please, just let me fuck you, sunflower.”

Your breaths were catching in your throat as helpless whimpers and moans tumbled from your lips. The way Steve was jerking your body on his cock, like you were little more than a fuck toy for him to play with, was making your mind melt as heat cascaded through your body, settling heavily between your thighs.

It felt so good—Steve’s cock grinding deep in your cunt, your wetness dripping down his hard length to soak his balls, your clit rubbing against the base of him—that it took your mouth a moment to remember how to form more than unintelligible sounds of pleasure. 

“Yes,” you gasped finally, dragging the word from the depths of your desire-drenched mind. And once you started, you couldn’t seem to stop, your hips rocking into Steve’s, meeting his grinding thrusts as you clung to his shoulders, your fingers buried in his soft hair. “Please, captain—please fuck me.”

“Thank fuck,” Steve growled, wrapping you up tightly in his arms and pounding into you from below. He held you pinned to his broad chest and buried his face against you, his lips mouthing at the soft mounds of your tits through your sweatshirt. “You feel so fucking good, buttercup, so warm and soft and fucking perfect wrapped around my cock.”

“Oh god, oh fuck, Steve,” you babbled, spreading your thighs wider and splaying them further open so that Steve could slam deeper and deeper into your pussy, making your head spin with how good it felt, how wildly perfect it felt to be fucked by him. “You fuck me so good, captain—please, ‘m already so close, Steve—please.” 

Your last word was a desperate, begging cry as your body trembled so violently in Steve’s arms that he had to hold you tighter to keep you right where he wanted you. Pleasure was coiled tightly in your core, and you knew you were seconds away from cumming. It was all you could do to gasp for air as you prepared to tip over the edge.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” Steve rumbled, lifting his head from your tits to drag his mouth along the line of your jaw until he found your lips. His kiss was so all-consuming, you almost missed the way he tilted your hips so your clit was grinding ruthlessly against his pelvic bone while he rocked up into you. “Cum on your captain’s cock like the good girl I know you are.”

His command was rumbled against your lips before his mouth pressed back against you, his tongue plunging into you and swallowing your sounds of ecstasy as you shattered apart. You were undone by his words and the deliciously perfect way he worked your body.

The sheer force of your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs and you screamed, the sound muffled by Steve’s lips as he eagerly drank down the sound like it was his favorite thing in the world. Wave after wave of heated pleasure washed over your body and you moaned helplessly as your pussy clenched hard around Steve’s cock.

A groan ripped free from the depths of his chest and poured between your parted lips as he followed you over the edge, his hips rutting into you with hard thrusts that had you bouncing wildly on his cock. 

If it wasn’t for Steve’s arms still holding you firmly against his chest, you were sure you would’ve lost your balance, but he kept you right where you were meant to be—on his cock while he emptied his balls into your cunt.

As Steve spilled himself inside you, your hands slid from his hair to hold his jaw in your palms. You kissed him through his release, licking his sounds of pleasure off his tongue and groaning at the delicious warmth that filled your body from head to toe. 

Once Steve’s cock had been milked dry of all his cum, he rumbled a satisfied sound and finally loosened his hold on you. His big hands stroked up your spine and back down again, soothing your body as you relaxed against his chest, your mouths still moving together in an endless kiss. 

Eventually, you pulled away from his mouth and let your head fall to his shoulder as your eyes slipped closed. A happy, contented sigh puffed from your lips and gusted against Steve’s neck, making him tremble slightly.

“So,” you started when you’d finally caught your breath, your heart rate back to normal and matching the steady pounding in Steve’s chest where you were pressed together. “How many flowers did you put together after I started cockwarming you, captain?”

Steve was quiet for so long, you half thought he’d fallen asleep against the couch, but then his hand squeezed your hip and he huffed an exasperated laugh. 

“Three.”

Your cackling laugh was so loud, it filled every corner of Steve’s suite, and a moment later, Captain America’s booming chuckle joined the din to make a wonderful cacophony of joy in your little corner of Avengers Tower. 

It seemed you had, in fact, figured out a way to make assembling legos with Captain America much more fair—and much more fun. 

A week later, Tony Stark stormed into the Avengers Tower conference room where he’d gathered all the superheroes and their SHIELD support team for what he’d deemed an “urgent” meeting. 

You sat next to Steve, his hand on your thigh and his fingers twisted with yours as you tried not to look at each other. Both of you suspected you knew what the meeting was about, and you knew you’d both break if you made eye contact.

It didn’t help matters when Tony slammed a small, potted Lego succulent on the glass table of the conference room, hard enough for the whole thing to tremble. A hush fell over the room as everyone stared at the irate Iron Man.

“Where the hell are all these Legos coming from?!” he demanded, his seething gaze roving the room, making eye contact with every single person who sat around the table. When no one spoke, he went on. “They keep popping up in my lab—and they’re starting to crowd my workstation. So who is it?”

You couldn’t help yourself, you cut a sideways glance at Captain America, and had to press your lips even more tightly together to hold back a laugh. 

Steve’s gaze was filled with so much mischievous amusement, you could feel a laugh clawing up your throat. As you looked at him, Steve let the corner of his mouth flicker in a smirk, and it was nearly your undoing. You looked away before you could snort and give yourself away.

Thankfully, Clint Barton piped up, telling the room he’d assumed Tony had been the one assembling the Lego flowers that had been showing up all over the tower. He noted he’d found them in the kitchen, the gym, both locker rooms, and plenty of other places.

Bruce Banner agreed with Clint, asking Tony if he hadn’t picked up the hobby during one of his latest bouts of insomnia. It would make sense, Bruce reasoned, since most of the Legos seemed to be cropping up in Tony’s lab.

Meanwhile, Thor had plucked the Lego succulent from Tony and was playing with the pieces, pulling them apart and putting them back together. He lifted his head with a goofy grin and nudged Phil Coulson, murmuring something about the tiny building toy being quite fun actually.

At the opposite end of the table, Nick Fury and Maria Hill shared an exasperated look, then began having a hushed conversation among themselves. You caught snippets of intel about the next mission the Avengers were set to go on, but that was less interesting to you than the reason for Tony’s “urgent” meeting so your gaze slide away to see how everyone else was reacting.

Across from you, Natasha Romanoff caught your eye. She flicked something tiny and pink across the glass surface of the conference table, so discretely, no one else noticed except Steve. He caught the pink thing in his hand as it tumbled over the edge toward your lap.

When the two of you glanced down at his open palm, you discovered the tiny pink thing was a Lego cherry blossom from one of the sets you’d assembled and left in the kitchen. 

Looking back at Natasha, she was smirking, and there was an unmistakeable knowing glint in her eyes.

As you watched, though, she pinched two fingers together and twisted them near the corner of her mouth, like she was turning a key in a lock. Her message was clear: Nat knew the Legos were coming from you and Steve, but she wasn’t going to say anything.  

Both you and Steve let out silent sighs of relief. 

The meeting went on for a little longer after that, though it didn’t go anywhere. No one admitted to planting the Lego flowers around the tower, and Tony was still furious that he didn’t know who was behind it. 

Fury finally had to call an end to things when it looked like Tony and Thor were about to come to blows, the former convinced Thor was playing dumb about not knowing anything about Legos while the latter was grinning and egging him on.

Another week passed of Lego flowers and succulents appearing around the tower. Nat had taken to helping you and Steve, sneaking into Tony’s lab while the two of you kept him distracted with speculation about who it could be. Clint caught you leaving a Lego cactus on Bruce’s desk, but he promised to keep your secret and even joined in on the fun just like Nat had.

It wasn’t until the end of the month when Tony called another “urgent” meeting that your prank was finally unmasked. 

Tony had a sheaf of papers in one hand and a video disc in the other, claiming that Pepper had discovered the charges made to one of his cards at the Lego store over on fifth. Apparently, he’d talked the manager into giving him a copy of the security tapes from the night when they’d been purchased, so he was about to uncover the culprit.

Once he’d announced all of this, Tony paused for dramatic effect, giving everyone in the room one last chance to come clean.

That time, when Steve cut his eyes to you, his mouth flickering with a smile, you couldn’t keep it together. Steve and you both lost it, laughing so hard, tears began streaming down your faces while Nat and Clint shared a private, knowing chuckle.

Steve came clean about the prank and admitted it had been you and him the whole time. He even explained how you’d roped Clint and Nat into helping once they’d discovered you—and both of them nodded to confirm Steve was telling the truth, grinning unrepentantly.

Tony took it all in stride, seemingly relieved to finally know the source of all the Legos. He did ask how Steve managed to spend so much money at the Lego store though. By his calculations, not even half of the Lego flowers Steve had purchased had popped up around the tower.

At that question, Steve’s cheeks pinkened a little and he admitted there was still a hefty pile of Lego boxes in his suite. You and him had spent plenty of nights assembling Legos—even when you weren’t getting distracted by cockwarming Captain America—but there were still a lot left. 

Squeezing his hand in your lap, you spoke up with a suggestion for a Lego night, where everyone could get together and assemble some Legos. It could be a fun opportunity of team bonding, you said.

Fury liked the idea so much, he approved it immediately, then wasted no time in calling an end to the “urgent” meeting.

And that was how you ended up spending a night assembling Legos in Avengers Tower with Steve Rogers and the rest of team, laughing and talking and taking a much-needed break from the stresses of the world. It was the first of many wonderful nights.

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'that funny feeling' - logan x gn!reader

summary: no matter how hard he tries, logan can't escape one simple fact. he's falling in love with you. (900 words) tags: fluffy, cutesy, short but sweet, feelings realisation, a lil angsty for logan thoughts, for the 'love' prompt for logan promptober.

logan finds you on his mind more than he'd like to admit. you've taken root inside his brain, infuriatingly made your home there, nestled between every thought and daydream. but he doesn't have the heart to evict you.

a heart, the dangerous thing, something logan thought he'd lost a long time ago. withered away, dying, fulfilling nothing more than its designed purpose - to keep him alive, without really having anything to live for.

until you. and he finds it's always you. you're the reason for so many things these days, he realises. how you've so sneakily, cheekily and annoyingly invaded every part of his life, slipped right under his finely tuned nose.

he doesn't mind cream in his coffee anymore, not since you introduced him, and he finds himself. . . humming? softly. tunes you listen to on your phone while in the shower or while driving. and for a moment you'd believe he's stopped surviving, and almost, just almost, started living.

yes, you're the reason for so many things these days.

logan didn't have a favourite colour before you. it wasn't something that concerned him. why would a two-hundred-year-old man need a favourite colour? it wasn't until the third time he met you, dressed all in yellow, that he realised he may have a favourite colour after all. and in yellow, every sunflower, every marigold, in the sun, he'd see you. and he'd smile.

in bed late at night, separated by distance, he thinks of you. he scolds himself for craving your touch, for growing accustomed to your presence in his life, knowing how easy it would be to lose you. . . but he can't help himself. you're too special, too important, no matter how much it frustrates him to think so.

what's happening to him? perhaps he's sick, maybe this is finally it. it's long overdue. that would explain the fevers, the sweaty palms, the aching in his chest. right? totally. he's just. . . sick.

but sickness doesn't explain his thoughts of you, the way he behaves with you versus all others. his rough, calloused hands trace tenderly across your skin. his eyes, sharp and focused, now soft and vulnerable as they commit every one of your features to memory.

sickness doesn't explain it, so what does?

it's frustrating, you're frustrating. and annoying. and persistent. and gentle. and kind. and sweet. and beautiful. and-

fuck.

this doesn't have to be more than it is, he thinks to himself. logan can keep it simple, as if he's ever had the capacity to keep anything simple in his long, long life. if he just distances himself. . .

no.

he can't. the thought fills him with fear. he couldn't.

what is it about you that has him on his knees, worshipping you, craving you? he wishes he knew, almost wishes he could forget you so he can be free from the worry that he'll have to watch you walk away one day. you'd walk away and he'd never get to tell you that-

he loves you.

what?

fuck.

no!

wait, he loves you? logan sits up in bed, heart racing. no, he can't possibly love you. he'd sworn off that disgusting feeling decades ago. it wasn't worth it, he'd said. no, you're irritating, the way you smile in the face of adversity. you're frustrating, in how you insist he takes care of himself. you're aggravating, because you're everything he's not.

so, why does he feel this way?

it's love. it always has been love. no matter how hard logan has tried and dodged and weaved to avoid that sickly sweet feeling, you're there with a bullet aimed straight at his heart - struck him, dead aim, no mercy.

he's in love.

of course he loves you, how could he not? visions of you flash in his mind and he finds himself smiling, on his bike, in the grocery store picking up that one wine you like, watching your name light up on his phone. you're. . . suddenly everything, everything he wants, everything he didn't know he needed.

it's you, it's always been you. no matter how hard he's tried to suppress it, to push it away, to kill it, strangle those feelings with his bare, tired hands, it always emerges stronger than ever.

he loves you.

god he loves you, so much so that it's overwhelming. it's pouring out of his chest, making a mess of his life, of everything he thought he knew. logan had sworn it off, everything he touches turns to shit. he's a poison, and you're. . . you're the sun.

and yet, you hold him like he's fragile, like he's not the monster he believes himself to be. you know the violence that lies beneath his calloused knuckles, but instead of running, you tenderly place a kiss to his weathered skin. you pull him closer. you welcome the monster into your life with open arms and a smile that brings the monster to his knees.

he really loves you.

logan is tired, tired of running from the feeling, of running from you. with every bone in his body, he loves you, all of you. and you him, monster and all.

yes, logan loves you. and he'll die before someone takes that feeling from him. the fire in his heart beats steady, steadfast, for you. he's alive, for the first time in a long time, he feels alive.

because of the love he feels for you.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When you bring your boyfriends flowers out of the blue, they panic.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None except loads of fluff

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

The Marauders were sitting in their dorm when you walked in with a bouquet of flowers in hand. They didn’t notice you at first as you approached with a mischievous grin on your face, but as soon as you cleared your throat, all four of them froze.

They stood in a line like they were under some spell, eyes wide as they glanced at each other nervously. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter exchanged panicked whispers, but you couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying—just snippets like "Is today something special?" and "Did we forget an anniversary?" and "Is it Boyfriend’s Day?"

You chuckled softly to yourself as you pulled out the first flower from your bouquet. James was the closest, so you walked up to him first, holding up a bright sunflower. His face lit up, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

“For you, James. A sunflower, because you’re always bright, always warm… like the sun,” you said with a grin.

James's face turned red as he fidgeted with his glasses, trying to hold back a goofy smile. "Uh, happy… Girlfriend's Day, darling?" he stammered, clearly unsure of what was happening but wanting to play along.

Next, you turned to Sirius, holding out a dark, mysterious nightshade. His brow furrowed slightly, but he accepted the flower with a smirk, though you could tell he was just as confused as James.

“Sirius,” you said softly, “Nightshade. It’s bold and fierce, just like you.”

He blinked a few times before running a hand through his hair, looking nervous for once. "Uh… happy one-month anniversary?" he guessed, his voice unusually soft.

Moving on, you pulled out a delicate moonflower and handed it to Remus, who took it with a gentle smile.

“Remus, a moonflower… because you’re always calm and thoughtful, and you remind me of the night sky an d you know for obvious reasons,” you explained.

Remus’s smile grew, but he glanced to the others for reassurance before saying, “Happy anniversary?”

Peter was last, looking increasingly anxious as you held out a daisy for him. His hands shook a little as he took it, eyes wide.

“Peter, a daisy. You’re sweet, kind, and always bring joy to everyone around you,” you said, squeezing his hand gently.

Peter’s face turned pink as he glanced between his friends. "Happy six months?" he whispered, clearly uncertain if he was even remotely correct.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “No, no, there’s nothing special about today.”

They all blinked at you, the confusion deepening.

James, always the one to voice his thoughts first, asked, “Wait… if today’s not our anniversary, then why did you get us flowers?”

Sirius tilted his head. “Is this some Hufflepuff thing? You know we love you just the way you are, yeah? You don’t need to be all, uh, 'Hufflepuffy' for us.”

Remus chuckled, and Peter nodded eagerly.

You felt your face heat up as you quickly began to babble, “No, it’s not that! I just—I read somewhere that most boys don’t get flowers until their funeral, and I thought… well, I thought that was sad. You all deserve flowers now, not just later! And I wanted to do something nice for you, but now I’m worried maybe you didn’t like it, or it made you uncomfortable, and—”

Before you could continue, James let out a loud, choked sob, surprising everyone. His eyes were filled with tears as he clutched the sunflower to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“Oh, Merlin, you’re the sweetest thing ever,” he cried, his voice trembling with emotion. "No one’s ever given me flowers before!”

Sirius had tears gathering in his stormy eyes. He looked at the nightshade in his hand like it held some deep, hidden meaning. “You’ve got me all teary-eyed, love,” he muttered, trying to blink the tears away.

Remus was grinning ear to ear, holding his moonflower delicately as if it might crumble in his fingers. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said softly.

Peter didn’t say anything, just threw his arms around you, hugging you tightly. "You’re the best, really!" he whispered, face buried in your shoulder.

James was still sobbing, unable to stop. "And the kindest," he added through his tears.

Remus stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. “And the prettiest,” he said, his voice full of warmth.

Peter, still hugging you, mumbled, “And the most caring.”

Sirius suddenly scooped you up into his arms, twirling you around. “And the best girlfriend ever!” he declared loudly, spinning you until you were dizzy with laughter.

They all crowded around you, each holding their flowers tightly as they showered you with compliments and affection. James finally managed to stop crying long enough to plant a kiss on your forehead, while Sirius pulled you close for another twirl, this time with his nose nuzzling your neck.

“I think we’re the luckiest blokes in the world,” Remus said softly, watching as Peter beamed at you.

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you looked at each of them, holding their flowers like they were treasures. “You’re the sweetest too, you know,” you said, eyes twinkling.

And in that moment, surrounded by your boys, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

i need someone to give me flowers!!

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・741 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive themes so mdni / 𝗮/𝗻・inspired by our beautiful boy's bbl texts about the nylon shoot. he is so loved. i hope he knows it ♡

𝟬𝟵:𝟬𝟵 — Chan is nervous.

He doesn’t say so out loud. He doesn’t say anything out loud, actually, simply appearing in the kitchen to pluck a slice of toast off the counter. Damp curls dripping into the towel slung around his neck, brushing against your cheek when he leaves a good morning kiss there.

But there’s a squareness in his shoulders. A muted glaze over the brown of his eyes and a tightness in the smile he gives you as he pulls away. The images linger in your vision after he disappears back down the hallway, presumably to get ready for the big day ahead.

Words. There are times when they embrace Chan like orchestral musicians awaiting their conductor’s cue, like sunflowers swiveling eastward in the halcyon morning—but there are other times when they haunt him, like the faceless sea of spectators instead of the hopeful performers, like the shadows that comprise the fathomless night rather than the rays of sun that follow.

You rise out of your seat, a quiet sigh leaving your lips. Chan needs the sun, today.

Inside your bedroom, Chan’s towel sits atop your duvet, right beside the white material of the T-shirt he slept in. The bathroom door is ajar and spilling yellow light onto the hardwood. You nudge it open further.

Free to roam after the towel’s removal, transparent waterdrops pave silvery trails down the sides of Chan’s neck, over the gentle incline of his collarbones and the naked hills of his chest. His palms are pressed flat on either side of the sink, his eyes glued to the mirror before him, his jaw set as squarely in his reflection as it is on his person.

He jumps when your reflection joins his. Parts his lips, prepares to speak. But his whole vernacular evaporates when your hands find his waist, when your breath hits the nape of his neck. 

“Baby,” he breathes.

There’s a question embedded in the word. The only answer you give him is the quiet drag of your fingertips down the center of his back. He expels an involuntary shudder, and with it the muscles beneath your touch shift like fields of marigolds tousled by a kindred breeze.

You kiss the highest ridge of his spine, letting your lips linger against the smooth skin for a few moments before doing the same, just below his ear. 

“What—” He pauses, swallows. “What are you doing, angel?”

When your hands return to his hips, they request something this time. He complies, lets you turn him around, his lower back meeting the marble with a soft bump.

You bring yourself close to him. Close enough to gauge his blushing cheeks and trembling breath and brown, brown eyes, crossed from trying to look at you. Close enough that you only need slightly dip your head to mould your lips to the hollow right under his jaw.

He moans, the sound melodic and low and quickly muffled by the lower lip he bites down upon. You suck lightly, careful not to leave a mark yet entirely fine with the alternative, then graze your teeth over the tender skin, pull away. You don’t go far, though, as your next destination is his Adam’s apple, which you reach not by boat or by plane but by short, wet kisses that resound in the silent bathroom, that draw from Chan’s throat another gorgeous whine.

As you progress in this fashion, traipsing across the plane of his clavicle, the valley of his pectorals, you want to tell him that he’s beautiful.

He’s beautiful when he laughs so hard that his smile turns boxy and his voice gets all squeaky. He’s beautiful when he’s trying not to cry and his eyes look like mirror pools because he’s failing. He’s beautiful in front of the cameras; he’s beautiful away from them. He’s beautiful always, your Chan, your Chris.

That is what you want to tell him.

But you don’t. Not even when his back hits the mattress moments later and he looks like your every wildest dream come to life underneath you: pupils blown so wide that they’ve swallowed his irises, lips glistening and quivering and inconceivably kissable as he sighs your name, chiseled upper body rippling when he props himself up on his elbows. Straining to look at you as you lower your mouth to his navel, undo the knot of his sweatpants with a gentle tug.

You’ll show him instead.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: Poppin' bottles, here are some headcanons of some of the Wind Breaker boys taking care of their significant other when they've had one too many. Characters: Jo Togame, Hajime Umemiya, Ren Kaji, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo,& Toma Hiragi. Word Count: 2.1k Contains: Fem!Reader x Multiple Charcters (separate). Fluff. Mentions of alcohol/being drunk. Slightly suggestive in some (Sakura's is borderline smutty, oops). Not proof read. cw: mentions of attempted drink spiking in Kaji's. (Drink responsibly y'all). ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Author's Note: This was a request for wbk headcannons for them taking care of a drunk partner. I hope you enjoy it, Kisa!! This was actually so much fun to write, honestly, it was just the silly/fluffy thing I needed to get me back into the swing of things post-writer's block/sickness. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

Togame scanned the crowd, leisurely drinking from the glass bottle in his hand, his eyes never straying from your form. He snickered to himself, watching you and Choji throw your bodies around dancing awfully with one another as you both laughed loudly. It warmed his heart to see you both together, the fact that the two most important people in his life got along and were even friends never eased to bring a smile to his face. He watched the both of you have a significant stumble to your movements as he eased off the bar, heading over to where the both of you were. His hand settled on your waist to keep you upright, grinning as he leaned down to your ear. “Woah there beautiful, careful, don’t want you taking a tumble now, hm?”

He chuckled as he felt your body stiffen beneath his fingertips, only for you to relax as the sound registered to your ears and you turned in his embrace. If there was ever a moment he wanted to commit to memory, it would be the very moment your features lit up upon seeing him. Throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your level to place a wet kiss on his lips. He could taste the liquor coating your lips, leaning down to scoop you into his arms, large hands holding you steady by the backs of your thighs. “Come on, dove. Let’s get you home before you regret this tomorrow.” You begin to protest, only to trail off your words as the scent of his cologne meets your nose. Relaxing in his embrace, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, humming in contentment. “mmm.. fine but you’re carrying me home.” He chuckles once more, pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet gesture. “I wouldn’t have it any other way darlin.”

Umemiya kicked the door closed with his foot, his arms occupied with your form as he carried you inside your shared apartment. Despite being perceived as immature, he was an older sibling and the former leader of Bofurin for years, making him a very nurturing partner. He smiles down at you, still wrapped around him like the cutest koala bear, he was glad you had a good time. Watching you dance with Tsubaki and giggling with Kotoha at the bar had filled him with happiness. Gently he sat you on the couch, kneeling in front of you, delicately removing each of your shoes, pressing a sweet kiss to each of your knees as he completed his task. Handing you a bottle of water and some painkillers to combat the hangover you were sure to have in the morning. “Did you have a good time sunflower?”

A smile breaks out on his face as you give a wobbly nod, your head bobbing in the cutest way. He picks you up once more, walking you both to the bedroom, placing you delicately on the bed as he gingerly removes your clothes. Pressing sweet kisses to your skin with each inch of it that was revealed to his eyes. “You're so beautiful honeybee.” He murmurs against your skin, forcing himself to pull away from you. You were intoxicated and Umemiya would never cross that line. He walked to the dresser, pulling your favorite sweater of his from the drawer before making his way back over to you. “Arms up, angel.” He laughs lightly when you do so, slipping the article of clothing over your form. He always loved seeing you in his clothes the way the soft fabric drowned your frame always came with a sense of pride knowing you were all his. After stripping down himself, he climbs in the bed, pulling you to rest against his chest, running his blunt nails along your scalp in a soothing gesture until he hears your breathing even out, letting sleep claim him with a smile on his lips.

Grey eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your form amongst the sea bodies in the crowded bar. He was waiting right where you left him before running off to the bathroom. There had been two men at the other end of the bar that had been eyeing you all night, and Kaji hadn’t liked that he lost track of them from his field of vision as well. He had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. As he continued to look for you amongst the crowd he caught something moving in the corner of his vision. With lightning-fast reflexes his hand shoots out to grab the wrist of one of the men who had snuck up, by the looks of it they had intended to slip something in your drink that was left sitting with his own on the bar top. He tightens his grip, fingers digging into their skin, his threat clear as he spoke through gritted teeth as he hard cany shattered between his molars. “You so much as think about it and I break your damn wrist, got it?” He growled, leveling the man with a glare hat caused the color to drain from his face.

The other male nodded, a look of fear overtaking his expression. Kaji shoved him harshly, releasing his iron-clad grip, watching as he and his companion scrambled off disappearing into the crowd. His blood was boiling, breathing deeply to calm his raging emotions as he replaced the candy in his mouth with a fresh one. Your voice breaks through his racing thoughts, turning back to you, “Rennie, I’m back! Hopefully, you weren’t waiting too long there was such a long line.” You huff, causing his shoulders to go lax in relief. It was miraculous how your mere presence was enough to bask him in a state of calm. A small smile, one he reserved only for you, slipped onto his expression. Pulling the lollipop from his lips, he leans down to press a longing kiss to your lips. “No not at all, but why don’t we head home, sugar? It's too crowded here.” He takes your hand in his own, dragging you out of the bar. Maybe if he decorated your skin in his marks, idiots like them would think twice before trying to touch what was his.

Sakura’s cheeks were hot, blush traveling down his neck as his hands gripped your hips. Your hips moved back against his own in time with the music that blasted from the speakers. No matter how many times he had found himself in this situation with you it never ceased to get him riled up. His eyes were drawn to your hips, noting how similar you had looked the night prior, him behind you in your shared bed. How his hips met your own as he had taken you, the sounds that had spilled from your lips better than any song they could play here. Your voice pulls him out of his daydreaming, your arms now wrapped around his neck as you face him. “What's on your mind handsome?” You purred, your lips pressing themselves to his ear as you pulled him down to your level. His heart picked up in his chest at the clear public display of affection. The liquid coursing through him giving him a surge of confidence to lean down and capture your lips in his own.

Sakura wasn’t one for such public affection but the effect that you and the alcohol he consumed had on him led to him throwing his inhibitions aside. His grip on your waist was tight, trailing his lips from your own to your jaw. His mouth left open-mouthed kisses in his ascent to your ear. His voice came out husky against the sensitive skin. “Can't help thinking how gorgeous you looked last night, moving your hips back on me, that’s all baby girl” He relishes in the shiver he feels go down your spine, meeting your hooded gaze as he pulls away from you. Grinning as he rendered you speechless, taking your moment of stunned rigidness to his advantage as he lifted you easily into his arms, effectively throwing you over his shoulder. His hand comes down on your ass in a playful smack, walking to the exit of the club. “Let's get you home kitten, lets see if we can't have a repeat of last night, yeah?” In that moment you swore you needed to get him tipsy more often.

“I know I know aren’t I just the worst?” Suo teases as your nose scrunches up, attempting to get you to drink the herbal tea he had prepared for you, knowing it would combat the hangover you were bound to have the next morning. He laughed at you, amusement present in his tone. “I know sweet baby, I know it isn’t coffee. But if you drink it you won’t wake up with a nasty headache tomorrow, now go on. Drink up my love.” He coos, you were absolutely adorable like this, refusing the tea he had brewed for you after getting you to eat something. He was patient, caring for you delicately as he had taken you home. Ignoring the way you had pressed your lips to his neck, the way your hands roamed his form in the back of the uber you both had taken home. He had a might high tolerance for alcohol than you did, so much so it didn’t sit right with him to take advantage of you when you were like this. He rested his chin in his hand as you begrudgingly began to drink the tea, eyes soft with adoration as his eyes drank in your features. “Now that wasn’t so hard was it babygirl?”

He ushered you off to the bathroom next, grabbing a cloth to moisten in micellar water as he began to remove your makeup. “Can’t have you breaking out because you slept in your makeup baby.” He hums as he washes your face, patting it dry before applying your nighttime moisturizer. “There isn’t that all better? There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiles pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. Taking your hands in his own he leads you to your shared bed, climbing in with you. He was sure to maneuver you so you weren’t lying on your back in case you got sick. “Come now starlight, let's get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, my beloved.” He begins to hum a soft tune, knowing it would lull you to sleep. He sighed in contentment as he felt you relax against him, removing his eye covering as he curled around you protectively. Pressing one last kiss to your temple with a declaration of love before letting his eyes close. 

Hiragi heaved a deep sigh, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This had been the third time he had lost you tonight, you had kept slipping from his grasp, testing his patience with how slippery you had become. He was happy you were enjoying yourself, overjoyed even, your happiness was all he wanted after all, But every time he turned his back to get you water or something to eat to combat the alcohol you had consumed you managed to wiggle away from him. His ears perked hearing the sound of your laugh, following its melody. It led him to the end of the bar, both you and Umemiya throwing back another round of shots, the two of you perking up when he came into your line of sight. His eye twitched, why couldn’t you be best friends with anyone else? Why not Sako or Kaji? Those two were far more responsible and far less reckless than the man standing before him. Popping a ablet of his stomach medication from its sleeve into his mouth to combat the indigestion you both were sure to bring him.

“Hey, Hiragi!” Umemiya threw a heavy arm over the blonde’s shoulder his boisterous laughter meeting his ears. “Come drink with us!” His words were slurred and his movements unsteady as he dragged him over to where you both were previously standing. He sighed taking a seat in the booth, opening his mouth to protest, only to shut it as you laid your legs across his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled close to him. “Hi my Toma.” You cooed, nose rubbing against his cheek in a pseudo-kiss, before resting your head on his shoulder, humming contentedly. “You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?” You spoke so softly adoration filling your tone. His cheeks darkened, supporting your body against his own, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he rested a large hand on your back to steady you against him. He supposed your slippery nature when intoxicated wasn’t all bad, especially when it meant he got to see this side of you.

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here.

[dolicekiss]

Hello there,

If you are still taking in requests, I thought I'd just leave this here. Could you potentially do a Hannibal Lecter x reader one-shot/headcanons (it's up to you) where they used to be lovers. But when the reader caught wind of Hannibal not exactly being a normal, she practically dissappeared from his life entirely. Now, years later, he sees the reader in Baltimore at an art gallery or something (idk maybe the reader is an artist herself or just a guest?) And it just re-sparks some sort of deep longing (yandere vibes???) within Hannibal.

Just a thought.

♡: i love this idea, its fr gonna awaken the poet in me. i hope u like it and it was up to your expectations (fear of disappointing ppl goes hard)

An ache for art

YANDERE HANNIBAL HEADCANON

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal x Artist!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: Yandere hannibal, mentions of kidnapping, forced (?) kissing, persistant hannibal, not much, only obsessed hannibal who wants his woman back

SYNOPSIS: When you abandoned Hannibal Lecter, he searched for answers everywhere in his desperation for you. Oblivious to the fact that you'd caught onto the abnormalities of the man. Years later at an art gallery, Hannibal finds solace in the painings presented before you and when he finds out you're the creator, a spark is once again lightened.

An art gallery in Baltimore was the last destination of all places in the world where Hannibal expected to find you.

When he'd asked to see the artist that had performed such a spectacular job at capturing human longing — akin to his, under the stroke of a brush, he didn't expect it to be you.

And you surely didn't expect to meet him. Yet here you were, nervousness heaving on you like cemented blocks.

You'd abandoned him under the fear that you might become his next victim. A voice inside you prevented you from informing the authorities but your morals could not allow you to stay with a man like him.

Especially after realizing he must've fed you human remains, on one of his special dinner nights. Torn between your love for him and the need to escape, you never looked back.

Hannibal tried searching for you, everywhere. He thought you two were soulmates, meant to be forever. You'd climbed the walls that he had always kept higher and higher.

Just why did you leave then? Had he done something so severe that you had to disappear from his life? Leaving your job behind, your life behind in Florence and never appearing in front of him ever again.

“Hannibal.” Your voice a whisper. He could taste the way his name unfurled on your tongue.

For a man that in complete control of his emotions and what he felt, he couldn't contain his excitement and happiness upon at the sight of you.

Hannibal stepped closer to you, a smile causing the wrinkles to appear. The same wrinkles you once used to adore.

“Beautiful art, I must say.”

You nodded, accepting his compliment, a small smile on your lips. You felt no discomfort or resentment in his presence. Only thing left were the beautiful memories of a healthy relationship.

The rest of the evening was spent together. You showed him around the gallery, explaining subtle details of your art to him albeit that wasn't necessary as Hannibal read right through your gentle brush strokes.

Though he was more interested in the art that strolled alongside him. A beautiful sight in her glory, flourishing once more like the petals of a sunflower.

Hannibal had an ache. An ache to consume art but you were the type of art he felt full just by catching sight of. He couldn't satiate these cravings you'd left him with.

After your departure, Hannibal killed and he killed. Yet no one could even compare to what you made him feel.

You were responsible for the deaths of multiple innocents, because you chose to leave him with an ache. Hannibal wondered how you'd feel if you were to find out.

He wished for the time to stop. That everything would come to a halt and you'd stay frozen right before his gaze.

Nowhere to go, nowhere to run to. Only available to him, only before his very eyes.

If it came down to it, Hannibal would not shy away from denying you of your freedom.

As you both reached a secluded corner in the gallery, the tension like a pendulum hung in the air above your heads.

Unanswered questions probed at Hannibal from within. He needed to know why you'd left — just what had scared you away to the point of no return?

Somewhere he knew. Deep in his heart, he was aware that this abrupt abandonment had everything to do with his own sickly desires.

“Why?”

You knew it was coming and it did. You couldn't tell him you knew about his little murder sprees or how he fed you human flesh.

You tried to walk away from the suffocating conversation but Hannibal couldn't allow that. Hand grasping around your arm, his tight prevention scaring you.

“Hannib—”

“I won't let you leave this time.” He longed for you, he never stopped to begin with. Everyday he'd come to his house and find it empty, it felt like needles prickled his chest.

He missed you roaming the premises of his humble abode, dressed in one of his button downs. Casting a meaningful light over the painted walls and furniture.

His grip was tight. You saw the sheer determination so instead of causing a scene, it was best to continue the conversation someplace better.

Like a coffee shop.

Sitting before him with a cup of coffee in your hand, you stared at him. Hannibal was never fond of such small cafes on the roadside — he preferred lavish and rich restaurants.

“I know, Hannibal.”

That was all he needed to know that you were well aware. His face falling but there was no expression on his face at all. Like he'd expected this.

“Was it that easy to abandon me?”

A stinging sensation spread in your chest at his sorrow filled question. Of course it wasn't easy. You'd spent a whole year in complete isolation after parting from him.

Hannibal caught onto the painful expression, akin to his. He wished that he was different too, more like you and not the cannibalistic murderer he was.

But some instincts could not be controlled.

“Come back to me.”

You could not. To step all over your moral conscience required strong will which you did not possess.

“I can't. It will never work, Hannibal.”

Hannibal noticed the reluctance in your gaze, his own darkening. Plans to keep you by his side already forming in his cunning mind.

There was no limit he wouldn't cross for you. Whether it was manipulating you back into his life or kidnapping you, he didn't want to back out.

You picked up your bag and after sparing him one last glance, left the cafe. Bells ringing against his ears, notifying him of your exit.

Hannibal was in disarray. He needed to have you, he had to have you. There was no way he could sit idle and watch you leave him.

So he followed you, pressing you up against your car. Lips working hastily to captivate yours, as he fought the string of dark emotions inside him.

You almost melted.

Him being the only man that could make you feel like this. A bittersweet kiss which acted as the closure you never received from him.

Hannibal’s frame locked you in, his hands roaming down to your waist. He kissed you with vigor, with profound strength like you could disappear at any given moment.

Your hands stayed by your sides, lacking the courage to slither them across his nape.

The kiss heated – his lips sucking yours and then he attempted to enter your mouth. You didn't let him. Persistent you were.

Hannibal pulled back from the kiss and breathed against your lips.

You soon realized what you were doing, in who you were investing and you pushed him off you.

Hannibal loved the feeling of your small hands over his chest. The way you still tasted the same even after years had passed.

“Don't ever come in front of me again.”

He didn't like the venom in your tone and he sure as hell wasn't going to let you go like before.

Hannibal watched you leave in your car and sighed, his fingertips running along his own lips. Remnants of your saliva bringing him to the brink of insanity.

He would do anything to have you.

And if that meant going against your will, so be it.

[the19thduckpotato]

--!!!

oh sweet man isn't he the greatest??

A handful of Toshis 🤲

[haleysgf]

sunflowers

Haley x Reader (Farmer)

Summary: Emily told her to carefully place the letter and roll of cloth into the Farmer's (albeit overflowing) mailbox. Easy instructions with a short note detailing how to get to the farm. Hayley would have to do it after she put the newest sunflower on her doorstep into the steadily growing vase on her dresser.

Warnings: None! Intended to be female farmer/haley, but no pronouns are used

A/n: I saw the cutest tik tok and it inspired me to make a whole new blog to get the idea onto paper. See the tik tok here -> ib

w.c. 1.4k

--♡--

'Please take this roll of cloth and note to the farmer! I have an errand to run in Calico Desert today, so I wont be able to! -E'

Haley yawned as she stared down at the note on the dining table. She blinked twice before groaning in annoyance, picking up the note and flipping it over to see carefully written out instructions detailing how to get to the farm. Glaring at the roll of cloth and carefully sealed envelope addressed to the farmer, she gingerly pushes them aside, making room for her to set down her bowl of cereal.

She chews slowly, hoping that if she moves slow enough, she wouldn't have to go and face the farmer as she delivered her sister's gift. Haley didn't mind having to see the farmer. It's not like she disliked the farmer, rather, she just doesn't understand why they would choose Pelican town of all places.

A glance to her phone tells her it's nearing noon, and if Emily isn't back to the house by now, it's more than likely she won't be home until after her shift at the saloon.

Haley sighs, again, and after placing her bowl in the sink, trudges to her room to fix up her hair and apply some makeup, just to look presentable. And most definitely not because she wants to look her best, just in case she does end up seeing the farmer.

It's basically one by the time she's done, and Haley takes a deep breath as she collects all of the items for delivery, hoping that the mud from the rain yesterday won't ruin her shoes as much as she anticipates.

She moves slowly, shifting the weight of the cloth to her hip as she opens her front door with one hand, blowing the strand of hair that fell into her face out of the way.

The sun is bright, and she shifts the cloth again before glancing down, warmth blooming in her chest.

Laying neatly on her doorstep was a sunflower, a bright thing, trimmed neatly with a bow tied carefully to the stem.

Haley glances outside, barely suppressing her smile, attempting to see if the owner was still around.

Seeing nothing but the young boy, 'Vincent' her head provides, poking around in the river, the smile on her face slips a little. Haley makes quick work of placing the cloth and letter on the coffee table by the door before bending down and gently picking up the flower. She admires it for a little before her hand smooths over the ribbon attached. Her cheeks are warm, and she flushes with affection at the thought of someone going out of their way to deliver something she loves to her doorstep.

She takes it to her room, smiling all the while, as she pulls the little glass vase on her dresser towards her, placing the flower in the water gently.

There's a total of seven now, one for each morning the past week. Haley has no idea who could be leaving the flowers, but a flush of affection blooms in her heart for whoever it could be.

She carefully thumbs over a petal on the oldest sunflower, beginning to wilt, it's petals growing softer by the day.

There's a couple minutes of Haley gently smiling at the flowers before she remembers the errand she has to run.

The flowers are left with one last glance as she closes her room door behind her, smiling to herself as she picks up the cloth and letter from the table before making her way outside.

It's hot outside, as expected from summer, but Haley's mind is only concerned about any sweat stains on her clothes, or the possibility her makeup is running. Additionally, the walk is longer than she previously expected, sparing a glance to the bus stop and then to her shoes, caked with mud. Haley sighs.

She hadn't visited the farm before, finding the distance a deterrent along with the fact that she simply had no reason to visit previously. The mud and the sweat Haley's sure is running down her throat is only further justification for why she's never visited.

There's a sign that points down the road, the farm's name written neatly in Robin's handwriting.

At least she's headed in the right direction.

The walk is only a little longer before the path gives way to a large expanse of land and a large farmhouse on her right. The mailbox is easy to spot, slightly overflowing with various letters and items gifted from those in the community.

'Popular.' Haley thinks offhandedly, shifting the cloth around in her arms. She's starting to wonder if she should've written a letter of her own to stick in the mailbox alongside her sister's.

'Well, too late.' She thinks, walking over to the mailbox.

It's not easy fitting the cloth and letter in the mailbox, but she's able to fit it alongside all of the other things. Haley's even sure that there was a rock in the mailbox. What the farmer needs the rock for? She's not sure.

Once she's completely sure that the mailbox won't burst open, spilling all of it's contents all over the floor, she allows herself to look around. She justifies the look around, 'snooping' the voice in her head helpfully chirps, by telling herself that she's looking for the farmer. Someone has to tell them to check their mailbox.

There's a box to the right of the farmhouse, and when she opens it, peering inside curiously, there's a case of wine neatly placed inside, along with a box of blueberries and other miscellaneous items.

She closes the box, the lid closing heavily as it shuts, and turns around. If she squints, Haley's sure there's a silo, and a small chicken coop, but the land is mostly worked, green plants sprouting up from the group. She's almost jealous that the farmer's so good with plants.

Her shoes click on the wooden walkways that the farmer has placed down, looking around, when something yellow in the corner of her eye catches her attention.

She turns and follows the path towards where the glimpse of yellow came from. The path curves around some trees, previously blocking her view. When her field of vision clears of trees, the breath in her chest rushes out of her body.

There's a small plot of land, seemingly dedicated to sunflowers.

Her legs move towards the plot without her permission, and her hand comes up to touch the soft petals of the proud flowers.

She walks around the square plot, mesmerized by the flowers, before coming across one empty spot. There must've been a flower here at one point, the rest of the flowers uniformly lined up, at different stages of growth.

Haley's eyes widen as she notes which flowers are blooming in different stages.

There's six total plants in the plot that are still in the process of blooming, the oldest one just waiting to bloom.

Her heartbeat is loud in her chest as she makes multiple different connections at once.

First, the farmer has an entire plot of farmland dedicated to her favorite flower. Second, the flowers she's been receiving for the last week are more than likely from the farmer. Third, the affection in her chest and the heat that is steadily growing on her cheeks is definitely not a normal reaction.

The sound of boots on wood pull her attention from the blooms, as she locks eyes with the farmer.

They're slightly muddy, holding a pail of milk in one hand, the other holding a silver watering can.

Her heartbeat thunders in her chest as her eyes zero in on the bead of sweat falling on the farmer's throat, and the press of biceps against the fabric of their shirt.

Haley's almost positive that she's trespassing, but she's more positive that the farmer looks so pretty in the summer heat.

She makes a couple of aborted noises, before her hand comes up to point at the sunflowers.

"You grow these?"

Of all of the things she could have said, Haley's sure that this could be one of the worst things.

The farmer simply shoots them a smile, setting down the milk pail by their feet.

"Yeah, aren't they pretty?"

Haley notes that the farmer never broke eye contact as they spoke.

"They're my absolute favorite."

Her heart pounds in her chest as the farmer's smile grows almost sheepish.

"I know."

[lnfours]

ruin the friendship | l.n

summary: i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but i was wondering if you would ever consider doing a fwb/roommates fic for lando like the one you did for tom? i absolutely love your writings!! -> yes anon, my requests for lando are open :))) also i listened to ‘don’t ’ by bryson tiller while writing this so feel free to listen to it while you read <3

warnings: friends with benefits!! language, sexual tension u can cut with a knife, neck kisses, nothing too crazy, jealous roommate lando 🫣

masterlist | ask box 💌 | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove as soft music played from the speaker on the counter. you hummed softly, the door closing catching your attention, making you spin around in your socks. the voices entered the kitchen and you smiled at your two roommates.

“mate, you’re crazy,” max laughed, “i don’t understand how you did that.”

“because i’m a great golfer, that’s how,” lando said, putting his phone on the island as he pulled a stool out to sit, “how was your day, y/n?”

you turned back to the stove, “it was alright, i guess. got some work done, went to the store, the usual. not nearly as exciting as you two’s day it sounds.”

max smiled, patting lando’s shoulder, “mans was a beast on the green today, should’ve been there,” you shook your head with a smile, thinking about the last time the three of you were on a golf course.

let’s just say, drunk people shouldn’t drive golf karts. max continued, “oh, how was your date the other night?”

lando’s ears perked up, his head snapping away from his phone. you grabbed the pot with the oven mitts, pouring the spaghetti into the strainer, “it was alright, nothing special.”

“you went on a date?” lando didn’t mean it the way it came out. you looked over your shoulder at him, “with who?”

“some guy who was all over her the other night at the club,” max said, “was it not good?”

“he’s kind of a douche,” you said, bringing the spaghetti back to the pot and adding the sauce, “didn’t have a good time.”

“sorry to hear that, y/n,” max said before standing up, “‘mgonna go shower.”

you and lando nodded, his eyes going back to watch you as you fixed dinner. you met his eyes, “you have a staring problem, norris.”

“you didn’t tell me you were going to go on a date with that guy.” he said. you dropped the spoon in the pot, reaching up to grab plates for everyone.

“didn’t know i had to tell you all of a sudden.” you shrugged. he stood from his seat, walking over to you. you backed up against the counter, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he placed his hands on the counter, basically trapping you between the counter and him. he had a slight sunburn on his nose from being in the sun all afternoon, his sunglasses were still pushing back his curls, and his eyes were damn near mesmerizing.

“suppose you don’t,” he said, “did he bring you flowers at least?”

you shook your head and he clicked his tongue, reaching behind you for a plate, “that’s a shame. i would’ve brought your favorite.”

“do you even know my favorite?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as he turned around to the stove. he put his plate down on the counter next to you.

“of course i do,” he said, “your favorite flower is a sunflower, and if im not mistaken you have a tattoo of a sunflower right…” he trailed off, lifting up the edge of your hoodie and pointing to your hip, “here.”

his finger touched the exact spot the tattoo was, his touch burning through the fabric of your sweatpants. his smirked as you met his eyes again, grabbing his plate as he moved back to the other side of the island. of course he knew where it was, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. he knew all the ins and outs of your body at this point.

“dinner smells good,” max said as he reappeared, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you tried to regain your composure, “you alright? look like you just ran a marathon.”

you nodded, grabbing your own dinner, “i’m good.”

he nodded but still gave you a look. after dinner, max went to go stream but lando stayed back to help you clean up. you were washing dishes as he placed them in the sink. once all of them were collected, he wrapped his arms around your middle. you leaned back slightly, tilting your head to the side to let him place his head on your shoulder.

“going on dates with other guys when you still fold every time i do this?” he joked and you huffed, laughing softly.

“i don’t fold every time,” you said, “i pick and choose, and i guess today is your lucky day.”

he pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw and you couldn’t help the soft noise that came from your throat, “hmm? don’t fold every time?”

you rolled your eyes, “it’s been a while.”

“too long,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“i need a shower,” you complained, turning around in his arms.

“me too,” he said, brushing a stray hair from your face, “wanna save some water?”

you laughed, shaking your head, “you shower with the water too cold.”

“you’re the one who likes it boiling hot! it’s a wonder you don’t pass out in there.”

you rolled your eyes, “maybe you’re just dramatic, did you think of that?”

he fake gasped, “me? dramatic? never.”

you nodded, stepping away from him, “keep telling yourself that.”

“seriously, come shower with me,” he grabbed your hips, pulling you back to him. you let out a soft laugh as he pouted, “please.”

you let his lips go to your neck, giving into him the second time today, “no, lan.”

“cmon,” he said, “it’s the least you could do for going on a date behind my back.”

“you were the one who wanted to keep this,” you waved your finger back and forth between your two bodies, “a secret.”

“not anymore,” he said, “i’ve thought about it, let me take you on a date. a proper one. i’ll get you flowers, take you to the restaurant downtown you love that you go to with your friends. i’ll pull all the stops, you deserve it.”

you smiled softly, “only if you promise to wear that black button up shirt you wore last weekend.”

he raised an eyebrow, “you liked that, huh?”

“maybe,” you smirked up at him.

“okay, then you have to wear that red dress you wore on the night out the other night.”

“deal.”

he smiled before lifting you up off your feet. you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, “where are we going?”

“my bed,” he said, carrying you down the hallway and shutting his bedroom door with his foot, “because now i can’t stop picturing you in that dress.”

“thought you wanted to shower?”

he sat you down on his lap, hands wandering under your hoodie as yours tugged on the hem of his golf shirt, “need you more than a shower right now.”

[kaneaken]

Malleus is the picture of calm and collected, at least to you. However, the Malleus that stood in front of you, who was out of breath, was the exact opposite.

"Dearest, thank the Sevens..." Malleus says, resting his hand on the fence to catch his breath.

Malleus is always associated with dark colors, at least all the times you've seen him. However, the Malleus that stood in front of you, who was holding the brightest sunflower you have seen, was the opposite.

"I will not forgive myself for forgetting such a beautiful occasion. I have no excuse, so I will not bore you with made up stories. I would like to give you this sunflower. It is as bright as you when you smile, my love. Of course, nothing shines as brightly as you."

He takes a step forward, extending the large flower to you. When it is in your grasp, he takes your free hand and presses a kiss against it.

Malleus's love is as grand as the universe, at least, you believe so. Even as he stands before you, out of breath, you believe it's still true.

"I love you, my darling. Happy birthday."

author's note; actually finished my birthday post this year <3 wishing myself a happy birthday by writing a short drabble with my favorite dragon (pre neuvillette) a very happy birthday to anyone else who I share a birthday with (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[moonstruckme]

Hey girl. I saw you were asking for whimsical!reader. The one that you did with James was so cute!!! Could we get another part to that? Also you’re one of my fave authors on here.❤️❤️

Hey babe, so honored! There are so many amazing writers on here, so I really appreciate you taking the time to read my stories :) Thanks for requesting love!

cw: hurt (not direly) animal

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 846 words

“Jamie, do we have any seeds?” James hears you enter through the front door. He turns down the TV to hear you better. 

“Seeds?” he asks. “Like, for gardening? I don’t think so, love.” 

“No, like sunflower seeds.” Your voice fades as you move into the kitchen, cupboard doors opening and closing. “Or actually, kale would do. Can I use some of your kale, please?” 

“What?” He gets up to go to you. “What are you making?” 

James finds you standing in front of the refrigerator, trying to tear open his container of kale with one hand and cradling an alarmingly complaisant-looking bird in the other. 

“Sweetheart,” James says slowly. You tilt your head at him. “Is that a baby bird?” 

“Of course not.” You smile guilelessly, eyelashes kissing at the corners. “Don’t be silly, I know better than to take a baby bird away from its nest. This is a bullfinch. It’s an adult, they’re just small.” 

He nods. “And why’ve you brought it inside, lovie?” 

“Because something’s wrong with it,” you say softly, as if wary of the bird overhearing. “It flew into Mrs. Hutchinson’s window—you know, the older woman down the way? Anyway, it’s alive, but I think it’s in shock or something. See how it’s letting me hold it in my hand?” 

James says that he does. 

“It shouldn’t be doing that,” you finish somberly.

You’re telling him. 

“But I’m fairly sure you’re not supposed to touch wild birds,” he worries, fighting vigorously against the urge to take the thing from your hand. “They carry diseases, don’t they?” 

“I’ll wash my hands.” You finally get the kale open, taking out a few leaves and holding them in front of the bird. “I couldn’t just leave it, Jamie. Mrs. Hutchinson has a cat. What if it had found it all frightened like this?” 

James takes a breath and forces himself to remember that these are the things he loves about you. Though he does prefer when your kinder traits don’t come at the risk of avian disease. 

“It’s not eating,” you fret, watching as the poor thing’s reddish belly pumps with quick, tiny breaths. “Do you think we should give it some water too?” 

“Can’t hurt,” James agrees, grabbing a small dish and filling it from the tap. “Why don’t you bring our little friend outside? We can put this stuff on the ground and see if it’ll eat then.” 

He doesn’t add that despite its equanimous facade, the bird is probably scared shitless sitting in your hand like that. You take to his suggestion happily, leading the way out to James’ small porch. You set the bird down gingerly. James does his best to match your carefulness, placing the little dish of water and a few pieces of kale in front of it. 

“Come on, lovely,” you coo, voice extra soft and sweet for the small creature. 

James’ chest aches at the sound of it. If this bird dies, he’s going to have to arrange a whole funeral for your sake. 

“Let’s give it some space,” he says gently, wrapping his fingers around your waist to encourage you back towards the door. “It might be too scared to eat with us around.” 

You press your lips together as you nod. James nuzzles your hair compassionately. The pair of you sit on his doorstep in silence, you gnawing your lip raw and him reminding himself repeatedly not to hold your hand. After what feels like hours, the bird moves. 

Its head twitches towards where you sit, and then, without even touching the meal you’d set out for it, it flies off. 

Ungrateful prick, James thinks. 

The sigh that leaves you is so loud that he starts to panic before he sees the relief on your face. 

“It’s okay,” you say, not quite teary but looking dangerously close. 

“It is,” James affirms. He’s unable to keep from smiling, you look so adorably thrilled. “It may not have had much appetite, but you saved it, angel.” 

“Did you see the way it looked at us?” You’re awed, looking up at him with huge eyes. “It knew. It could tell we were the ones that helped it.” 

James isn’t sure he can get fully on board with that theory, but he’s not going to burst your bubble. 

“I’m sure it did,” he says, standing and taking your wrists in his hands. You get up too, and James holds your hands out away from you, shouldering open the door to go back inside. 

You follow him gamely. “What are we doing?” 

He leads you over to the sink, forcing you to keep your hands in front of you like a surgeon’s the entire way. “Washing your hands,” he replies. “Don’t need you falling ill from some rare bird disease.”

“I don’t think our friend would have given me any diseases,” you say, though you don’t resist when he holds your hands under the hot water, pumping soap into them. “It liked me, I think.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt it did, sweetheart. But just to be sure.” 

[jjunieworld]

── a bed in your shape ⋆ 𓈒 ⊹ 🖼️ ˊ𓂃

read part two here ⇢ a life in your eyes ☆

pairing: huening kai x gn!reader

genre: angst, fluffy, childhood bestfriends to ???, slice of life, blonde!kai, kai is kinda an asshole (i'm sorry)

synopsis: for as long as you could remember, you’ve been in love with your bestfriend kai. the only problem is, he never loved you back. yet, you can’t stop imagining your life with him.

word count: 1.4k┊part two┊masterlist

author's note: happy easter to all those who celebrate! this drabble was heavily inspired by the song strawberry blond by mitski!! all feedback is appreciated and please reblog instead of just liking! yes, i know i use ‘blonde’ instead of ‘blond’… i just like the way the ‘e’ looks better lmaoo.. txt comeback tomorrow and i’m so excited!!! i hope you enjoyed this little drabble!! ♡

you knew what you were doing was going to lead to heartbreak, but at the moment you couldn’t care less. you and kai had planned a picnic in a nice field that the two of you had been visiting since you randomly found it as kids.

at the moment, you were listening to kai talk about this girl that he’s been going on about for months now. the wind was flowing smoothly over your skin from the open window, the spring breeze cooling you off. it was nearing summer now. “we have a date later today that i’m actually really nervous about,” kai spoke, his eyes briefly glancing at yours from the road. “i really really like her, y/n.”

you turned fully from the window to him. despite your heart fluttering at your name on his lips, you gave him a small grin as you said nothing. kai had pulled up to the field, which had saved you from answering anyway.

looking down to your hands in your lap as he parked, you tried to ignore the crushing weight of your heart. of course it wasn’t you he liked—how could you be so naive? this wasn’t some sort of fairytale. you still remember vividly overhearing kai’s conversation at the surprise birthday party you and your mutual friends had threw for him. “don’t be ridiculous,” he had said.

“i could never see them that way.”

you got out the car, looking over to see the top of kai’s blonde hair kiss the sunlight and turn golden. a smile formed on your face. as long as you had kai, that’s all that mattered to you. you didn’t need anything else—not this town, not this road, not this field. not even the sunshine, you’d much rather be clouded in darkness. just him.

grabbing the picnic basket and the blanket, you followed kai out to the field. the field was quite beautiful, the lush green grass was spread across the rolling hills with tiny multicolored flowers dotted about. it looked straight out of a painting that claude monet would’ve painted, and it belonged solely to the two of you.

jogging a little to catch up with kai’s long legs, a giggle slipped from your lips. kai looked at you with a small smile playing on his mouth, “what?” another giggle escaped you as he dodged out of the way of a bee, shaking his arm furiously as the bee tried to land onto his arm after. “they must think you’re a flower,” you replied.

you wouldn’t doubt it, he looked like a sunflower if you’ve ever seen one. blonde hair like honey and rosy cheeks as sweet as pie. kai chuckled, “why are they only going after me then? what about you?” he waved his hand in the air at you to insinuate you’re just as much of a flower as him. you shrugged, “must not be shining as brightly as you are.”

kai tilted his head at you and shook his head. he then wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you both continued your way to your spot in the field. “come on now, don’t say that! you shine just as bright as me, if not more. if anything, we shine brighter together!” you couldn’t disagree with that.

you laid the blanket out onto the grass and kicked your sandals off so you were barefoot, kai doing the same. you sat down onto the blanket and began taking out the wrapped food the two of you had prepared. the wind picked up just as kai went to lie down, flicking the blanket up. instead of laying on top of the blanket, he was now laying fully in the grass. either kai didn’t notice, or he didn’t care about the change.

“the clouds are so beautiful,” he breathed, tucking his arms behind his head. you placed the remaining food onto the blanket and scooted over slightly so you could lay down next to him. pointing, you grinned as you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks, “look, that one looks like a duck!”

kai looked over to you and it made you realize how close the to of you were to each other. “a duck?” he asked incredulously, “that’s clearly a boat!” you returned his gaze with raised eyebrows. “a boat? maybe you should get a new prescription…” you shot back. kai playfully nudged you, causing the both of you to laugh.

you sat up and reached for the muffins you had bought. as you took a bite out of it, savoring the sweet flavor, kai spoke up. you turned to see that he was sitting up now, unwrapping a sandwich as he looked over the field. “i think she’ll really like it here,” he stated before taking a bite from the now unwrapped sandwich in his hand. raising an eyebrow, you lowered the half eaten muffin, “what do you mean? you’re bringing her here?”

“yeah, it’s breathtaking here,” kai shrugged as if what he just stated meant nothing. “she said she wanted something quiet but meaningful and this is absolutely perfect.” you abandoned your muffin in the empty space where it once sat in the container. he had your full attention now.

“but this is our spot,” you spoke slowly. it was as if you were trying to convince yourself that what you just heard come out his mouth somehow got twisted and you were trying to set the record straight. kai just nodded, adding nothing. so you did. “our spot—since we were kids, kai.”

kai nodded once more. “i know, y/n. what’s the issue here? it’s a field. we can find another field if you want to,” he furrowed his eyebrows at you and anger started to rise in you at the confusion in his voice. why didn’t he get it? even if you didn’t have any feelings for him, this was still your spot. your field—just the two of you. not the two of you and some girl.

“it’s not about finding another field. this field is suppose to be sacred—just for the two of us—and you want to bring some girl to our spot?” you practically seethed. desperately, you tried to control your tone, but the anger that had seeped through refused to be hidden. kai sat up straight and you knew you had made a mistake.

“it’s not just ‘some girl,’” kai said defensively. “she’s my girlfriend, and i can take her wherever i want to—even here. it’s just a stupid fucking field. it’s not even that special.” you opened your mouth to retort but all you could get out your mouth was a choked, “g-girlfriend?”

kai rolled his eyes at you, not hearing what you said, “save it, y/n. this is ridiculous.” he stood up from his spot in the grass and grabbed his shoes. kai began walking the path back to his car barefoot and you quickly stood to your feet. “you’re leaving me here? are you fucking serious right now, kai?” you shouted after him. kai continued, clearly ignoring you.

you watched as he got to his car and roughly flung the driver’s side door open. watched as he yanked his shoes back on and watched as he ripped out of the small gravel road and drove furiously away from you.

slumping to your knees, you let out a deep sigh. it looks like you’re walking home. you looked over to the spot in the grass where kai was just moments before. it was as if he didn’t even leave. the grass was still indented in the shape of him. your heart broke and your eyes watered as you reached over to softly touch the flattened grass.

packing up the food and the blanket, you tried your absolute hardest not to break completely. you knew this would all lead to heartbreak, and still—still you continued. foolish. you should’ve known better, maybe then all of this could have been avoided.

breathing out another sigh and looking over the field one last time, you began the walk back home. you were sure this was the last time you’ll ever be in this field again.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

permanent taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @rapmonie2047

part two┊masterlist┊request rules

[baby-yongbok]

a thorn to the heart

Hwang Hyunjin x afab!Reader

˙☾. ⋅Genre - Forbidden Love - Knight!Hyunjin x Princess!Reader ˙☾. ⋅Word Count - 5.5k

“Can we not pretend, just for a moment, that you could be mine?”

˙☾. ⋅ CW - angst, mentions of death, period piece ˙☾. ⋅a/n - i'm nervous to post this... that's all.. enjoy + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ˙☾. ⋅Masterlist

“My knight,” you call as you and Hyunjin walk back to your chambers, two roses—a bright yellow and a soft pink—in your hands. They’re stunning, the kind that makes you want to share their beauty, to have others witness their glow. Hyunjin looks at you with his usual studious demeanor, his eyes scanning yours with careful consideration. “Aren’t these just beautiful?”

He relaxes at your gentle tone, letting his guard down for just a moment. “They are,” he replies, admiration coloring his voice. “But not as beautiful as you, your highness.”

You feel a blush creep onto your cheeks and glance around to ensure you’re alone as he opens your bedroom door for you. “Thank you. You’re too kind.” You catch his gaze, your expression playful yet lingering. “I’ll need a glass of water for these roses, Sir Hyunjin.”

A smile spreads across his face, a sense of pride swelling within him at how easily he can paint your cheeks that lovely shade of red with just words. “As you wish.” He steps into your room, letting the door close softly behind him, and moves to the pitcher by your window.

As you continue to admire the roses, Hyunjin returns with the glass. You thank him softly, placing the flowers on your bedside table with a smile. “Are roses your favorite?” he asks, pulling your attention away.

You hum thoughtfully, glancing back at the shimmering petals. “I think sunflowers might be my favorite, but roses are just as captivating.”

Hyunjin walks toward you at a relaxed pace, a spark of intrigue in his calm gaze. “Sunflowers? Really? I wouldn’t have expected that from you, my princess.” You turn to him, curiosity piqued by his reaction.

“And why not?” you inquire, tilting your head slightly.

He glances at the roses on your bedside table, contemplating. “You always seemed like a… rose type of person. Delicate and beautiful, but with a certain edge.” His tone shifts, softer than the petals you’ve been admiring, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. You can’t help but smile.

“Maybe it’s because I’d like to be a rose at heart.” Hyunjin’s eyes meet yours, a tenderness in his expression as he returns your smile. “You’re certainly acting like one right now.” His voice carries a playful lilt, yet the earlier softness lingers.

“Is that so?” You cross your arms over your chest, teasing him. He chuckles softly, nodding as he steps closer—too close for a knight and princess, yet you don’t mind, not when it’s him.

“Yes, princess. You’re as delicate and beautiful as a rose, but you also have a thorn in your heart.” His words make your heart skip a beat, and the closeness between you intensifies the sensation. “A thorn in my heart?” You repeat, your gaze locked onto his.

“Yes… a thorn.” He nods, taking a small step closer, reducing the distance between you. “Something sharp that hides deep inside you. Something only I can reach.” He leans down, his breath brushing over your face as his eyes linger on your lips. Your breath hitches, your heart racing in your chest.

“Sir Hyunjin,” you breathe, halting him mid-action. “You know this isn’t… it can’t be…”

He remains still, his expression unwavering as he asks, “Can we not pretend, just for a moment, that you could be mine?” You sigh, inhaling deeply into your trembling chest.

“You know I’m to be wed to the Prince of the Southern Realm, and that—”

“Our love is forbidden by rule… I know, your highness.” He straightens, frowning. “Does that mean I can’t love you behind closed doors? That I have to accept your marriage to another man, even when I’m the only one standing before you?”

You shake your head, whispering back, “Whether the doors are open or closed, what we feel could get you killed. My marriage to the prince will be announced in two days, and—”

Hyunjin tsks, his expression darkening at the mention of you marrying another man. He fights against it, but the words sting. “So I’m just supposed to accept it? Stand back and give you to someone else while I’m right here, begging to be yours? How could I allow that?”

“If we’re found out… if my father, if the king catches on—”

“I’m aware of the consequences—” Hyunjin interrupts, but you step closer, placing a hand on his arm to emphasize your greatest fear.

“If my mother, the court… if anyone finds out… they would have your head, my knight. I would be devastated.”

The darkness in his gaze softens at your pained expression, his frustration shifting to sadness—rooted in anger but nonetheless real. He takes a deep breath as you look up at him, your eyes pleading for him to accept the reality of your situation.

“I know, princess,” he whispers, frustration evident in his tone. He tries to lighten the mood, glaring at you playfully. “I hate when you’re right.”

Your shoulders drop, and your gaze softens with a playful glint that makes him forget, if only for a moment, that you’re off-limits. “Then you must hold nothing but hate for me at all times.” Hyunjin scoffs, chuckling lightly as he steps back, shifting back into his role as your knight—your protector, but never truly yours.

“Dinner will be starting soon,” you say as you pass Hyunjin, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. “My… husband-to-be might be there tonight, according to my ladies-in-waiting.”

Hyunjin watches you with a mix of admiration and concern until your mention of the prince makes him tense. He folds his hands behind his back, squeezing them tightly to maintain his composure, but the grumbling that escapes him gives away his feelings. “The damn prince…”

“Sir Hyunjin,” you warn, shooting him a glare through the mirror. But he presses on. “I don’t understand why you have to marry him. You don’t even like him. He’s not good for you.”

“The prince is lovely, actually,” you reply, your tone steady. “He’s kind, sweet, and he genuinely cares for me. He’s really not as bad as you make him out to be.” Hyunjin scoffs, turning his gaze away from you. “I mean it. He’s a good man. I know you disapprove of my arrangement, my knight, but it could be worse.”

You step closer, closing the distance between you. “He can be kind, and he can be good, but there’s one thing he will never be for you.” Hyunjin meets your gaze, a flash of possessiveness igniting in his brown eyes. “He can never love you the way I do. He can’t and will never know you like I do.”

Silence falls as you stare at the floor, lost in thought. Hyunjin is right; while the prince is charming, he doesn’t hold your heart the way Hyunjin does. No one ever could. But you remind yourself that your fate is sealed—you are set to wed. What’s done is done.

Hyunjin watches you as you stand in contemplation, knowing your mind is tangled with conflicting emotions. He wants to say more, to confess his love and plead with you not to marry the prince, but he knows he can’t—not now.

“Are you thinking about him?” he asks softly. You blink, shaking off your thoughts, but your gaze remains cast downward. “I’m simply… thinking.”

Hyunjin reaches out, wanting to touch you, but you evade his hand and turn back to the mirror, holding his gaze in the reflection. “Shall we head to the dining room? Mother will have a fit if I arrive late.”

He swallows his feelings back into the depths of his heart, as he always does. Straightening up, he nods and presents himself as your knight. “Yes, your highness. You should make your way to the dining hall.”

After a moment of shared silence, filled with unspoken longing, you both leave your chambers. The two of you walk through the castle, quiet and controlled, as is your custom. The sound of Hyunjin’s boots echoes in step with your own, creating a rhythm that feels almost like a single heartbeat.

As we enter the dining room, my mother arrives just moments behind us. You scan the room, taking in each knight and servant as Hyunjin finds his place among the others. “It seems the men are running late,” You comment with a smile directed at my mother, who graciously returns it.

“Yes, it seems so. But I doubt the prince will be long; he’s never late for anything,” she replies. You nod, glancing at Hyunjin. His gaze is distant, as if he’s distracting himself from the tension in the air—a privilege you wish you could afford. Just as you’re about to take your seat, the prince and the king enter. You bow to them both, but only the prince acknowledges you with a nod.

Prince Lee Felix of the Southern realm is renowned for his strategic prowess and his ability to make enemies tremble with just a few well-chosen words. Since your engagement, you’ve spent enough time with him to know that beneath his polished exterior lies a heart of gold. He wouldn’t hurt a fly unless absolutely necessary. He’s a skilled performer, just as all royals are.

“Your highness,” he greets, smiling as he takes your hand to place a gentle kiss on it. You blush, maintaining the facade of love. “You look radiant today, as always.”

“You flatter me, my prince,” You tease, earning a more genuine smile from him this time. “And you’re looking as handsome as ever.”

“Please, everyone sit. Let’s eat; I’m famished,” Your father announces, taking his seat, and the rest of us follow suit. The servants begin to serve the courses, but your focus is elsewhere as you try to steal glances at Hyunjin. He stands at a distance, eyeing you possessively, his hands clenched at his sides, knuckles pale from the tension.

The sound of my father conversing with Felix pulls you from my thoughts, but it does little to distract you. You push my food around on my plate, barely touching your meal as the men discuss plans for the future. Your mother decides to shift the conversation to something else—your impending union.

“Have you thought about when you will wed?” she asks. You look at her, letting out a subtle sigh. While she has been kind enough to allow you and Felix to dictate the pace of things, you feel a pang of guilt for taking advantage of her generosity with your lackadaisical approach.

“I was thinking the next season would be lovely. Spring will surely bring forth positive energy—rebirth, renewal,” You reply, glancing at Felix. He nods in agreement, playing along. “A season's time sounds wonderful, princess. We’ll have time to… prepare.”

You both exchange smiles before turning your attention back to your mother, who watches the pair of you fondly. “The two of you truly make a grand pair. I couldn’t imagine that—” But your father interrupts, speaking firmly over her.

“A season's time is too long. The court needs to see you eager and in love. I’ll give you a month,” the king declares, his words hanging heavy in the air as the three of you process the directive.

“Father, a month is far too soon. We’ll barely have time to prepare, and our marriage will only be announced tomorrow. Don’t you think that will seem rushed?” You speak carefully, glancing at your mother for support. When you look back at Felix, his attention is elsewhere, focused on the knights, but you push that thought aside.

“You need to produce an heir sooner rather than later. The faster you’re wed, the better,” he replies sharply, his tone leaving little room for debate.

“Father, I don’t—”

“That is my word, and it is final.” He fixes his gaze on both you and Felix, the finality of his command clear. “A month’s time.” You stare at him, a wave of frustration boiling inside you. Your mother watches sympathetically, offering no help, and Felix remains silent, unwilling to oppose your father.

After a moment, you gather your composure and clear your throat, forcing a soft smile. “It’s getting late faster these days, don’t you think?” You catch Felix’s gaze, and he nods, understanding your intention to leave. 

“Perhaps it’s the season. You seem worn out, princess; you should rest,” he suggests, his hand gently rubbing your back in reassurance. You nod, agreeing, and meet your mother’s eyes. “I should head to bed now.”

As you stand to dismiss yourself, your father watches quietly, his displeasure evident. “Of course, dear. We should all rest.” Your mother glares at your father before standing with you. “Good night.”

You bow to everyone, then turn your attention to Felix, who takes your hand with a warm smile. “Shall I walk you to your quarters?” he whispers. A smile forms on your lips in response. “I’m fine; I should rest.”

Felix nods, recognizing your intention, though you’re unsure of the emotions swirling in your chest. It feels like anger mixed with anxiety.

“I will see you soon, Your highness.” He kisses your hand gently, and your heart flutters at the softness of the gesture. As you step past Felix, your gaze meets Hyunjin’s. You need to leave.   

Hyunjin opens the door to your chambers, and you stride inside with fierce determination. He glances down the hall, ensuring that you’re alone before following, He allows the door to shut behind him but does not move beyond the threshold. He quietly observes as you pace restlessly.

“That was… how could he think it’s okay to hijack my plans like that? My mother entrusted me with control over my wedding, and he just… gahh! He is an insolent man.” Your words spill out in a frustrated rant, each step punctuating your agitation. Hyunjin watches silently, a tension in the air that feels almost palpable.

When the absence of his voice halts your pacing, you turn sharply. “Sir Hyunjin?” He nods, avoiding your gaze, his expression clouded with a simmering agitation. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are locked on the floor. “Why won’t you speak to me? What’s going on?” 

He struggles to find the words to express the tempest brewing in his chest, knowing that any admission could lead to heartache. Each possible outcome is a battle he feels he cannot win. “Nothing is wrong, your highness,” he finally says, the lie hanging in the air like a weight.

You take a step forward, closing the distance between you. “You’re lying to me. It’s obvious.” You reach for his gaze, but he shifts away, flicking his eyes toward a nearby object. He doesn’t want to admit his discomfort, nor reveal how much the king has irked him or how deeply seeing you with the prince has stirred his jealousy.

“Sir Hyunjin.” You reach out, and your eyes lock, but his expression remains guarded. Conflict glimmers in his eyes—a tumult of sadness and jealousy, all rooted in a love that aches. It’s a look that speaks of longing, yet it feels like a wound, with you as the source of his suffering. You are the object of his torture. You instinctively step back, creating a significant space between you. “I see…”

Hyunjin feels that distance grow, an ache unfurling in his chest as you drift away in ways that go beyond mere physical space. He hurries to close the gap, desperate to reach you. “You are dismissed, my knight…thank you.” The words hit him like a blow, and he freezes, a frown deepening. Has he really pushed you away? “Are you sure, your highness?”

The tension thickens, hanging heavy in the air, almost suffocating. It’s a fragile moment, strung taut with unspoken feelings, longing hanging between you like a dark cloud.

“Yes.” Your gaze mirrors the distance he once held as you step back and sink onto the bed, lost in thought. Hyunjin bows his head, the respect he shows only intensifies the ache in your heart. Reluctantly, he turns, moving toward the door. Each step feels heavier, his hand trembling as it hovers over the handle, as if it weighs a thousand pounds.

“Permission to speak, Your highness?” Your eyes lift from the floor, meeting his. “You may speak.”

“I… hate seeing you with him.” His voice trembles, igniting a spark between you. You inhale sharply, the familiar longing rising in your chest. “My knight…”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me it can’t change.” He steps closer, eyes ablaze with a desperate intensity.

“It can’t.” You exhale, a painful weight settling in your stomach. 

“Yes, it can. There are other options for you—ones that aren’t so… forced.” 

You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping. “And what would those options be?” 

In that moment, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you caught in the tumult of unspoken feelings and the relentless pull of what can never be. The air crackles with urgency, your hearts racing as you stand on the edge of something both beautiful and forbidden.

“I could protect you, keep you safe. Take care of you. Like a lover would.” With newfound fervor, Hyunjin steps closer, and you rise from your bed, a mix of longing and dread swirling within you. “You and I are forbidden, and you know it.” You point at him, a warning laced with desperation.

Hyunjin scoffs, his eyes darkening as you nearly close the distance between you. “Who cares if it’s forbidden? What’s a few rules compared to your happiness?” Panic flashes in your gaze as you press your finger against him, targeting the heart that beats fiercely beneath your touch.

“Those few rules will cost you your life.” Your voice cracks, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Why can’t he see how heavy this truth is? Hyunjin inches closer, his breath mingling with yours, his expression fierce.

“And what about your life? Are you just going to throw it away for some stupid rules and a prince who doesn’t even care about you?” His words come out as a hiss, thick with unspoken emotion.

“He does care! You cannot discredit my prince based on your own jealousy.” The desperation in your voice lingers, hanging in the air like a fragile thread, binding you both to this moment of fierce, unyielding connection.

His jaw clenches, eyes darting over your face, bubbling agitation rising to the surface. He lets it all spill out: frustration, jealousy, longing—everything. “Oh, he cares, does he? That’s why he can’t keep his hands off you whenever he’s here. That’s why he’s so affectionate in front of everyone. And that’s why you look so happy whenever his lips touch your skin.”

You stare at him, your expression weary. “Do you hear yourself? You’re just naming things that reveal your jealousy toward the prince.” Hyunjin laughs, a bitter sound laced with disbelief, his eyes burning into you as he pours out more of his heart.

“Of course I’m jealous, princess. He’s everything I’m not. He can touch you, kiss you, make you laugh and smile. He’s free to do all the things I long to do while I stand aside and watch.”

Your gaze softens at his confession, the tension in your features melting away as you listen. “It isn’t fair, but it… just is. We are forbidden. We cannot be wed, and you…” You pause, your words lingering in the air as your mind drifts to places you try to avoid.

Hyunjin steps closer, the space between you charged with unspoken longing. His voice is barely above a whisper. “And I what, princess? Finish that sentence.”

You look up at him, your gaze trembling with the pain you’ve suppressed since that kiss in the garden a year ago—the only kiss you ever shared. “You are a love I cannot have…” Your voice quivers, breaking under the weight of the emotions you’ve fought to contain. “And you have to accept that.” 

In that moment, the air thickens with heartache, leaving only the two of you suspended in the turmoil of what could have been.

Hyunjin reaches out, taking your hand in his, his voice cracking under the weight of it all. “How am I supposed to accept that when I love you so much? When I rise and set on your time?”

You pull your hand away, stepping back and breaking the fragile barrier between you. “Stop loving me, Hyunjin.”

He freezes, heart sinking as your words pierce the air. The desperation in his voice is raw, something you’ve never wished to witness. “I can’t. I can’t just stop loving you. I’ve tried, you know this. I can’t stop feeling this way about you.”

“Then… I will request a new knight. I’ll have you transferred. I’m sure the prince will help with the arrangements.” The sickness in your stomach twists as you see the horror etch across his face. “...You wouldn’t. You can’t be serious…”

“I am serious about keeping you safe.” Your voice is steady, yet your gaze holds an intensity that falters only slightly. “Your love for me is dangerous.”

Hyunjin scoffs, his eyes narrowing as panic floods his veins. “And you think transferring me to a different kingdom will solve that? Do you really believe that being apart from you will make my feelings disappear?”

You stare at him, taking in every detail—the strength, the vulnerability—and in that moment, clarity washes over you. He’s everything, and he doesn’t even know it. Perhaps you hadn’t realized it before, but it’s undeniable now. “I can hope…” 

A moment of silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken emotions. Hyunjin breaks it by stepping forward, gripping your shoulders to force your gaze to his. “Hope is all you have, princess. And hope won’t work. Nothing will change the way I feel about you.”

You stare up at him, possibilities and unethical solutions tumbling through your mind, each one crashing and fading away. There’s only one that feels bound to work. “What if I tell you that I do not love you?” The words tumble out, rushed and drenched in reluctance. You catch the way Hyunjin flinches, his heart visibly cracking within the confines of his chest. His eyes search yours, desperate for a reason not to believe you, for something to cling to as his grip on your shoulders loosens. 

“What?” He whispers, his voice shaking, mirroring the tremor in your heart. You’re lying. You know you’re lying, and it hurts more than you can bear, but your need to protect him outweighs any pain you could feel. “I… do not love you.”

His gaze locks onto yours, glassy and wounded, his mind racing as he processes your words. He doesn’t believe you; he doesn’t want to, but the anguish in your eyes makes it seem so painfully real. “You’re lying. You have to be…”

You look away, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill over. This is all an act of protection, a desperate masquerade. “There is no lie… your passion is one-sided, my knight.”

The weight of those words hangs in the air, a fragile thread tethering you both to the truth. Each heartbeat echoes the unbridgeable distance growing between you, and yet, in that moment, it feels as if the very fabric of your world is unraveling.

“No. No, you’re lying. I know you love me. You have to love me. Please… don’t do this.” A sob catches in your throat as you catch a glimpse of Hyunjin’s tear-filled eyes. He looks just as desperate as you feel. “There is no hope for us, so there is no room for love.”

“But there has to be hope… We can find a way.” His voice cracks, each word a silent plea as he fights back tears. “We can fight for us. We can… I don’t know… we can run away together! We can find a place where no one can find us, a place where we can love each other without fear or judgment. Please, princess… don’t give up on us.”

You shake in his hold, emotions threatening to overwhelm you as the weight of reality crashes down, like the world’s most beautiful wonder collapsing into itself.

“That is just… it’s not possible, Hyunjin. Don’t you understand? Our love cannot exist in this life. We cannot be together as we are now. You will be killed…” Your breath hitches, and the tears spill over at the thought of losing him. “You will be murdered, made an example of by my father, and I will carry the blood of my lover on my hands for years. There isn’t a single place I, a princess, can run. There isn’t a place where we will be safe… It’s not possible.”

You stare at him, and he at you, a reflection of hopelessness mirroring in your eyes. Hyunjin is forced to confront what he has been running from all along—the truth. He can never love you the way he desires; he can never love you as freely as the prince will.

He cups your cheek, gently wiping your tears away with his thumb, and you melt into his touch, feeling both comforted and tormented. “You’re right,” he whispers, his voice broken, tears slipping down his cheeks. “It isn’t possible. There’s no escape from this. No way for us to be together. No way for us to be happy.”

In that moment, the weight of unfulfilled love hangs heavy between you, the air thick with all that could have been. You stare at him, your heart skipping at the thought of all he deserves. 

“You deserve more than kisses in the dark, Hyunjin. You deserve to be seen, and I cannot give that to you.” He shakes his head, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I do not care about being seen. I don’t care about the world; I only care about you. Your happiness, your safety, your smile. I would give up everything for you. I would sacrifice anything if it meant being with you…” He pauses, his eyes searching yours. “Even my own life.”

You shake your head, fists clenching in the fabric of his garments, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on your heart. “I beg you not to sacrifice yourself for me.” His other hand finds your cheek, his touch tender yet filled with desperation.

“Then what am I supposed to do, princess? Let you go? Watch as you marry another man and spend your life with him while I stand on the sidelines in silence?” Your grip loosens, sorrow pulling your gaze downward. “That will… have to be. Yes.”

Taking a shaky breath, you allow yourself to sink deeper into him, letting your heart find a brief reprieve from the crushing reality. But for Hyunjin, that moment isn’t enough. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as you dissolve into trembling sobs. He buries his face in your hair, the familiar scent of you soothing his burning anger for just a moment before fresh tears begin to fall. He takes a second to memorize everything about you, trying to imprint the feeling of your body against his in his memory.

“Why? Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t we be together? Why can’t we be happy?” You inhale deeply, taking in the warmth of him, the comfort he brings—an untouchable paradise in a world that forbids it. In a whisper, you respond to his anguished plea, “It is not written for us.” 

The truth hangs heavily in the air, both a shield and a shackle, as you cling to each other, two souls intertwined yet destined to remain apart.

Hyunjin presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, allowing himself to unravel just a bit more. “It’s not fair. The world is so cruel, princess. So cruel to us, tearing us apart like this…”

You sigh, letting his words wash over you before a weak smile tugs at the corners of your lips. He feels it against his chest and hums in curiosity. “Maybe we’ll find each other again… in another life.”

He chuckles bitterly, the thought of another life offering him little solace as he confronts the harshness of his reality. There’s hardly any hope left in his heart. “And who’s to say that in that life, we’ll be allowed to be together?”

You ponder this, a heaviness settling in your chest at the idea that your souls might forever be pulled from each other’s embrace. It’s a heart-wrenching thought. “Maybe in that life we can truly run. Maybe there will be another choice for us.”

Hyunjin closes his eyes, letting himself imagine. He envisions a world where you could be together without obstacles, where love flows freely without fear of repercussions. The thought sparks a flicker of hope, and he clings to it desperately.

“Maybe in that life, we’ll be happy,” he whispers, and you respond softly, “Maybe.”

As Hyunjin opens his eyes, the weight of reality crashes back in. That imagined world dissolves with his hope, and fresh tears begin to fall. He holds you tighter, his tears soaking into your hair, feeling the energy of you—broken, desperate, spent. In this moment, he resolves that he’ll take you any way he can, even if it means standing aside as you build a life with another man. As long as he can see you smile, live, and love as he has always dreamed, he can endure.

“I love you, princess,” he professes through sobs. “No matter what happens. No matter how many lifetimes pass, or how far apart we are, my love for you will never change.”

Your body shakes at the resignation in his voice. He’s waving his flag, surrendering, and it hurts more than you could ever have imagined. “Hyunjin,” you whisper, crying harder into his chest. “I love you… I love you.” 

His voice cracks as he whispers back, truly at his limit. “I know, princess. I know.” The burning in your chest and the dryness in your throat become unbearable as you sob. Hyunjin has stopped, his own sorrow eclipsed by the need to comfort you. But when you push away, looking at him with bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks, he knows what’s coming, and his heart shatters as he waits for it.

“You… are dismissed, my knight.” Reluctantly, he lets go of you, stepping back while his gaze lingers on you, more tears threatening to spill. The formalities feel cold and wrong in this moment, yet he bows, his voice a distant whisper. “As you wish, your highness.”

Your body trembles at his words, and you turn away, desperate to shield yourself from the sight of him leaving. Hyunjin hesitates, drawing a deep breath and summoning every ounce of willpower to turn away. He makes it quick, hoping to spare you both further pain, but when the door catches the latch, he realizes he may have only prolonged the agony.

And he is right. You break as the door clicks shut, sinking to your knees, hand pressed over your mouth, sobbing soundlessly into the air that still carries his scent. You long for him, your heart aching with a desperate plea for him to return, but little do you know he is just outside, collapsed against the wall, his body wracked with sobs, the overwhelming grief tearing at him from the inside out.

You both feel suffocated, the echo of your shared sobs haunting the silence. There’s nothing but a double-edged dagger connecting you now, driven straight through the heart.

Hyunjin presses his hand against his chest as if trying to hold together the shattered pieces of his heart. He wants to go back. He’s just a step away. He yearns to hold you, comfort you, to promise he will find a way, that he will fight for you… but he can’t. He has to let you go, no matter how deeply it wounds him. 

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xoxo - lee donghyuck

synopsis. in which, your little niece has a crush on your boyfriend.

pairings. donghyuck x reader (f)

genre. fluff, established relationship, non!idol au

warnings. none!

notes. this idea is inspired by this tiktok i saw T_T i was like holy shit this is cute now let’s make it about hyuck :D also something is wrong w my taglist, it says it got deleted but i didn’t delete it so i might have to make a new one😭 so if the link isn’t working that’s why!! just letting y’all know :)

masterlist | series masterlist

—

“and she hates the crust on her bread–“ your older sister tries to inform.

you push her out your door, mindlessly nodding your head. “i know, i know, don’t worry she’s gonna be fine. now go, before you’re late.” you wave to her one last time before you close the door behind her with a huff.

your six year old niece is still standing behind you with her bluey backpack on her shoulders that has all the things that would entertain her for tonight.

“hi, sweetie. i missed you,” you crouch down to her level, helping her out of her shoes and taking off her backpack.

“i missed you too, auntie!” she smiles and takes off to your living room, giggling.

you had already put on her favorite cartoon on your tv, as you follow her with her bag in your hands before placing it beside the couch.

she’s totally immersed herself in the animated slice-of-life adventures of the dog family. you stand inches away from her, amused at how she has blocked out all of her surroundings.

you turn to walk into your kitchen, thinking of preparing something easy for dinner.

“auntie!” your niece calls out from the living room.

you hum in response, putting away the dried dishes from last night.

“is donghyuck-ie coming over today?” she asks, curiously. and you know just by her tone and the mention of her second favorite person (first is obviously me) she’s twiddling her fingers.

you chuckle to yourself. “yes, he’s coming over later though.”

you hear her gasp before it goes back to being silent, the faint sound of the tv echoing through your apartment.

you’ve noticed your little niece’s infatuation with your boyfriend and you and donghyuck think it’s the cutest thing. she loves playing with him when he comes over while you’re babysitting her, making him sit in the living room with her and color and play with her toys. she gets all shy and geeky when donghyuck walks with her holding hands.

your older sister finds it funny and amusing.

��tell your boyfriend to stop being so handsome yeah? my daughter is bragging to everybody that donghyuck-ie bought her a toy.” your sister groans into your ear, on the phone with you.

—

you’ve been busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, appreciating the comforting sound of bluey and bingo playing along. every so and so minutes you check on your niece by calling her name.

“yes?”

“just checking on you, you good?”

she hums cutely. “yes auntie.” you peek your head out, seeing her sprawled out on the floor with her backpack next to her and all its contents spread out. she’s drawing something in front of the tv, concentrating with her tongue poking out as she scribbled with her crayons and gazing up at the tv.

she crawls up to her feet, bending down to grab the piece of paper she was doodling on before stomping over to you.

“auntie! auntie!”

you raise your eyebrows, giving her your undivided attention.

she shoves the piece of paper in your face. “look!”

you lean your head back, blinking, trying to adjust to what she’s showing you.

she’s holding up a stationary bluey themed piece of paper that has blue textured crayon words written neatly across the printed lines.

‘dear sunflower ♡’

you gasp, bringing your hands to cover your mouth. “is this a letter for donghyuck?” you whisper to her, from her view, your eyes shaped into crescent moons and your hands are covering your smile.

your niece giggles, using the letter in her tiny hands to hide her face as the pig tails from her head bounce from her nodding.

“he’s gonna love it! i mean, who doesn’t love bluey?” you ask rhetorically, hands on your hips.

“right?”

the doorbell chimes throughout your small home, both you and your niece look at each other with big eyes. already knowing who’s behind the door. your niece runs out the kitchen and into the living room squealing as you make your way to let your boyfriend in.

“hi pretty.” haechan grins at you, his eyelids looking a bit heavy and you already know work was tough on him. he still smiles and extends his arms out for you.

you wrap your arms around his neck, playfully groaning when he squeezes you tight in his grasp.

he lets out a breathy laugh, grabbing your waist to pull you away to connect his lips with yours in a slow, gentle kiss. his hands roaming over your lower back and creeping down to your ass.

“sunflower!” you both break the kiss, you walk back to the kitchen while he bends down to greet the little girl.

“aigoo, hi cutie. how are you?” you hear him coo at her.

—

“thank u yn for the food.”

“thank you auntie for the food!” they both say at the same time.

you reach over the table to grab their plates and placing them inside the sink, your niece jumps up from her seat and runs out the kitchen. donghyuck takes this moment to snake his hands from behind to lace his fingers together so you can’t run.

his body towering over you, he leans down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, peppering small kisses on your exposed skin. “thank you for dinner baby,” he mumbles against your skin.

you smile, “of course.”

“sunflower!”

he pats your ass, pecking the top of your head before walking away. “yes bum bum,” he replies. the nickname that seemed fitting and grew on her over time, it being short for bumble bee.

“i made something for you.” the little girl shyly utters, the piece of paper in her hands as she shoves it in his hands.

he laughs lightly, sitting on the balls of his feet. “did you draw something for me?”

she shakes her head, her toothy smile on display, her hands behind her back as she sways back and forth on her feet.

you appear behind donghyuck, relaxing your hand on his shoulder.

it’s a comforting silence in your apartment, he’s taking the time to carefully read each word and reading a certain word over again because of the misspelling but he finds it endearing, his smile growing wider as he gets closer to the end.

‘xoxo, bum bum :)’

“hugs and kisses, where did you learn that from?”

“school!” she exclaims.

“school shouldn’t be teaching you how to win hearts,” he states with a playful pout.

she clasps her hands together, stepping closer towards him to point at the tiny prints. “i used my bluey stationary kit, do you like the paper?”

“i do, i’m very honored and i’m going to hang it up in my home. this is my first letter i got from a girl!” he whisper-shouts in your niece’s ear.

obviously you heard him and that made you nudge him with your knee, making him lose his balance.

“auntie you have to write sunflower love letters.”

he smirks, “yeah, auntie.”