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#okay yeah FINE he looks hot in every colour whAteVeR
chocojae · 11 months
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𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒 — kim doyoung
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summary ▸ seven signs you are in love according to not so love expert, kim doyoung ft. a tired and frustrated kun
genre ▸ doyoung x female reader | pure fluff | university au 
word count ▸ 3.2k
warnings ▸ none! 
luna’s note ▸ hello @beautifulchris​ ! I am your author for the exchange event held by @kflixnet​! i enjoyed writing this piece and really hope you will like this ♡ since the event’s main motive was to be friends, i hope we can get to know each other!
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ONE: YOUR DAY STARTS AND ENDS WITH YOU THINKING ABOUT THEM.
Doyoung’s eyes widen as he notices the words he just scribbled on his notebook. He was spacing out in the lecture hall, and guess what he wrote? Your name, once again. 
It astonished Doyoung when he realised just how much he has been thinking about you these past few days. 
When he got to learn that you have a (secret) crush on him, all he did was think about you and notice your likes and dislikes. From him eating his breakfast and getting reminded (out of nowhere) that you love cats to him putting on an outfit of your favourite shade because you like that colour, his life was suddenly revolving around you.
It bugged him that it was you who occupied his mind 24/7 when it should have been his studies. Lately, he gets on his bus every day thinking if you would attend today or not and can’t help but get a little disappointed when he notices your absence. 
Something is wrong with him, but what? It’s the question that messes his mind the most. Doyoung angrily stabs the paper with frustration, his mind running a thousand miles per second, trying to figure out what could be the possible cause of his sudden curiosity and then his face suddenly drops. A tiny voice in his head whispers: You couldn’t like her back, could you?
Doyoung shakes his head violently, trying to shush the tiny voice. Through the corner of his eye, he looks at you for a split second. Right, there was no freaking way he possibly could.
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Fine, Doyoung takes back whatever he said a few hours prior. There might be a possible, tiny, tiny chance that he might like you, romantically. 
He stares at your laughing figure for a little longer than he would before tearing his eyes off you, gulping soon after. God, why wasn’t he able to look away? Sure, you are attractive and kind but does he really like like you? Like as in a boy liking a girl? That type of like? 
He presses his lips into a thin line and steals another glance, soon feeling his cheeks burn up. Shit, have you always been that pretty?
“I don’t think this tragic piece of literature is supposed to be making you blush, Doyoung.” Kun squints his eyes at the younger male sitting beside him, noticing how Doyoung looked completely taken aback by his comment. 
Wait, Doyoung was blushing? BLUSHING? Now, that was unexpected. Doyoung cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. It’s just the weather. You know how hot it can get in summers here.”
Kun squinted his eyes, not satisfied with the so called answer. There was no way he was buying the “reason” Doyoung was beetroot red. It was a white lie. Sure, he agrees that summers are hot in here but with all the fans and air conditioners present and just a simple black t-shirt thrown over him, Doyoung couldn’t possibly be reddening because of it.
“Are you sure you were not checking out someone and blushing?” Kun asks with suspense laced through his words, crossing his arms and giving a look that indicated he was ready to hear the tea. 
“Jesus, no!” Doyoung responds immediately. Hey, it was the truth. He wasn’t checking you out or something, he was just glancing at you. Glancing. There’s a difference, okay?
“Sure.” Kun shrugged, not convinced and continued his explanation, hoping Doyoung would get whatever he was trying to make him understand. Doyoung slumped down on the table, Kun’s words becoming white noise to him. With his head resting on his arm, he dragged his eyes towards you. Hell, you look absolutely breathtaking—
Here he goes thinking about you once again, not like he could help it.
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TWO: YOUR EYES ALWAYS SEEM TO SEARCH FOR THEM.
Considering that he thinks about you most time of the day, it should have been natural for Doyoung to accept that he likes stealing glances at you. It would have been easy if that was the case. But it’s not.
Every single time he is reminded about you or glances at you, Doyoung tries to convince himself that he does not like you. It is tiring, very tiring since he thinks about you so much that it makes him frustrated.
If he would tell someone about this train of thoughts running through his head, he is one hundred one per cent sure that it would conclude he likes you. 
The thought that he might have harboured feelings for you, for unacceptable for him.
He chose to ignore those confusing feelings, shoving them aside. But what he couldn’t control was the way his eyes always gravitated towards you, taking his time to adore you like you were his love interest in some cheesy romance novel. 
You looked so ethereal in his eyes, so beautiful that he believed you were the most beautiful person to exist. 
He sneaked glances at you now and then and most of the time, you were already looking at him. So when he looked back to admire you out of nowhere, you both were caught off guard and turned away in a beat at being caught.
 Kun, who observed this quite often, found it pretty cute and enjoyed teasing Doyoung about this. Doyoung would shake his head, saying he was just spacing out and it was not what Kun thinks. But Kun could see how just two seconds after calling him out, Doyoung’s gaze was fixated on you once again.
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THREE: YOU RANDOMLY START PICKING UP THEIR HOBBIES.
Seriously, painting and Doyoung? 
Doyoung looks around helplessly in the room filled with what seemed like skilled and passionate students. They all seemed so focused and determined, unlike him who stood there awkwardly, face laced with confusion.
Doyoung should have been studying in the library for the upcoming exam, or doing his laundry that has stacked up for about two weeks now. He should have been anywhere but here, occupied with the set of brushes he has no idea how to use.
Painting never once intrigued Doyoung, so why was he here? Answer: For you.
Through his secret source obviously Kun, he found out you liked to paint in your free time. 
To Doyoung, painting was something uninteresting but since you liked it, he was adamant to try it out as this would mean him finally having a common topic to start a conversation with you.
In the past two months, Doyoung got so frustrated with himself that he accepted he liked you, and yes, romantically. He disclosed this to Kun, who didn’t waste a single second to tease Doyoung by revealing he already figured out his “secret” long ago by the way he gawked at you.
And the more Kun teased him, the more Doyoung’s feelings grew and so did his desire to get to know you.
He wanted to start a conversation multiple times but the blush on his cheeks whenever he was with you prevented him from doing so. Doyoung did draft the convo scenes with you in his head, preparing different things to say based on your supposed replies in his imagination.
But to actually start a conversation with you was hard. His mind just goes blank whenever he decides to start a small talk with you, and the script he had prepared for weeks in his head, gets blurry. He stammers, and he blushes. 
You too, wanted to talk to him and spend some time together but you didn’t have the courage to. He made you feel so euphoric, it was hard to focus on anything else, including your words.
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FOUR: YOU GET FLUSTERED AROUND THEM.
Doyoung’s standing behind you. You are standing in front of him. The proximity is so close that Doyoung could catch the faint smell of your perfume lingering over him. 
Kun nudges Doyoung from behind, leaning in and whispering. “You are red like a tomato. Don’t be this obvious.” Doyoung nods. He could feel the loud thumping of his stupid heart and is doing everything in his power to avoid looking at you, not because he doesn’t want to glance at you, but because he knows his heart will beat louder the more he will look at you.
What Doyoung didn’t notice was the way you were being a mess too. Eyes roaming everywhere in nervousness, cheeks painted pink and your friends passing you a teasing look.
You are so sure that Doyoung knows you have a little crush on him, and that didn’t bother you— until now. Because he is behind you, just behind you. The prettiest and kindest man (with utterly attractive hands and a honey like voice) you have ever known is behind you. Your freaking crush is behind you.
It feels awkward, nervous and exciting all at the same time and the adrenaline rushing through your system makes you go numb. Do you look good? Is your hair alright? What about you back? Oh, you should have taken your roommate’s advice and done some back exercises so you weren’t regretting right now. And what about your perfume? Is it still there? What if Doyoung doesn’t like scents?
The train of thought was never ending, and Doyoung could relate too. He should’ve worn something more presentable. The tray in his hands was shaking. Why the hell did Kun pushed him to stand next to you?
“I hate you, Kun.” Kun raised an eyebrow at his words, a small smirk adoring his face as he answered back. “But you also love me for this.” 
Doyoung bit back a smile. Kun just knows him too well.
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FIVE: YOU GET (UNNECESSARILY) WORRIED ABOUT THEM.
Doyoung has no right to worry about you but it’s the third day he hasn’t seen your pretty face and it’s making him nervous. What if something happened to you? Or what if you left the university?
Millions of baseless thoughts ran through his head, his body stiffening. You couldn’t have gotten sick, right?
But what if you did? Cold sweat broke out on his forehead at the mere thought. Doyoung’s ears perked up hearing the giggles of your friends and he looked at them curiously. 
Maybe he should ask them, but wait, wouldn’t it seem extremely suspicious when he would randomly ask about you? Screw it, he says to himself and marches towards your friends.
“Hi.” The sudden appearance of Doyoung made their giggles come to a halt and they were visibly confused. “So, I was saying that..” Shit, he can’t do it. 
“Do you have the notes from the previous lesson? I forgot to jot down mine!” He passes them an awkward smile, hoping they won’t catch his unusual behaviour. 
“Sure” One of the girls, which he vividly remembers seeing by your side the most, takes out a notebook from her bag, handing it to Doyoung with the same expression as earlier. “Here,” Doyoung mumbles a quiet thank you before completely disappearing. 
The girls, confused, shrugged their shoulders and decided to not think much, later joking about how you should have been there.
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Doyoug gave Kun his best puppy eyes. “Please.” Kun sighed and asked, “Why can’t you do this?” 
“Because it would seem weird.” Kun raised an eyebrow at the reply. “And it wouldn’t when I will? 
“No, because even if it will do seem that way, you are not me. That’s why.”
“Your logic is so…….baseless.”
Doyoung clung onto his arm, swinging it in an attempt to persuade him. “Oh come one, please, please.” 
Kun closed his eyes. “I am deaf, I can’t hear anything.”
“Please, only you could save me from this misery.”
“Misery? Misery? You not being able to find out why Y/N has not been coming for three days has driven you into misery?” Kun’s voice was laced with sarcasm followed by an eye roll. “And FYI, I don’t even talk to Y/N that much.”
“Well, you can ask just out of curiosity. I am sure they would understand.”
“Then why can’t you do it?” 
“Because it feels weird!” 
“Just say you are shy.” 
“I am not!” 
“You are.”
“I am not, okay!?”
“Liar.”
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“So?” Doyoung asks in anticipation, eyes full of hope darting at the tired Kun. “She is at her grandma’s. No big deal.” 
“That means she is okay, right?” Kun slumps down beside him. “Yeah, I guess.”
Doyoung glares at him. “What do you mean you guess? You didn’t ask?”
“Obviously dude, I am not her boyfriend or something!”
“You had one job. One.” 
“Not again.”
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SIX: YOU PICK UP THEIR HUMOUR.
caution ▸ cringy dad joke ahead
Doyoung has been observing you every single time so it wasn’t long before he picked up your humour. You were the dad jokes type and while Doyoung wasn’t interested a bit in them, the humour grew on him and now he has made Kun’s life a little harder than it was before.
“Wanna hear a knock joke?” Doyoung grins at the annoyed Kun. 
“It’s not like I have a choice.” He mumbled. Doyoung cleared his throat, “Knock Knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Nobel.” There was still that grin on his face when Doyoung waited for Kun to respond. “Ask Nobel who?”
Kun rolled his eyes. “Nobel, who?”
“No bell so I just knocked.” Doyoung bursts into fists of laughter and smacks Kun’s shoulder. “Be real, isn’t it funny?”
“It’s not—” Kun pauses sensing a glare thrown at him  “It’s so hilarious, I can’t even laugh!” Kun sends Doyoung a small, scared smile and releases a sigh of relief when Doyoung takes the comment as a positive one.
If Kun is going to stick around Doyoung who will find humour in dad jokes because of you, you both better get married for his unthinkable sacrifice. 
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SEVEN: YOU IMAGINE A FUTURE WITH THEM.
Doyoung grasps the bouquet of flowers tight in his hands. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and calming his nerves down. 
You can do this, Doyoung! He says to himself, glancing at the flowers in his sweaty palms. He is finally doing this, Kim Doyoung is finally asking you out. Seems unreal, right? For Doyoung too.
He had never imagined he would ask you out, but here he is. 
He was smitten over you, everyone knew. You were referred to as his crush but that label soon was ripped away when Doyoung started seeing you in a new light. When everything about you seemed more lovely than it could ever be. When your flaws, which he had previously ignored seemed so perfect to him. When instead of getting all nervous and excited, he felt warmth and comfort from your presence.
The tag of a crush got removed and replaced by the one called love.
He imagined doing everything with you, going out on dates, meeting your family, late night celebrations, unexpected calls and what not. It become clear Kim Doyoung was in love with you. 
He had finally mustered up the courage to ask you out, for real. His heart was beating a thousand miles per second. He doesn’t know if you were ready for this, or even if you still had feelings for him but he was going to do it. It’s now or never.
Doyoung had called you in a cafe near by, and as much as you were puzzled, you were internally screaming. You were attracted to him, no doubt. He was kind, he was cute. He was everything you looked for in a man. So when you met Doyoung with a bouquet of flowers in his hands and cheeks flushed red, your heart beat synced with his, uncontrollable and messy. Your palms become sweaty as you sat down opposite him.
“Hi, how have you been?” You asked, a smile spread across your lips. The talk started off great. It seemed so pleasant and comfortable with Doyoung and you wished you could stop time. The moment felt surreal. 
Doyoung cleared his throat before scratching the back of his nape. “I don’t know how to say this, but I um….I…..like you.” Wait, he what??? “What?” 
“I like you.” Your eyes were about to pop off. Are you dreaming? Doyoung noticed your reaction and was quick to say, “We will pretend this never happened if you are not comfortable.”
“No—. Well, I— oh, god. I like you too.” Dooung blinked a few times. Okay, what should he respond with now? 
“Here,” He handles the bouquet with utmost gentleness and care. His cheeks you red, and so were yours. 
“What I was saying is…..how about we get to know each other first? This would help us to decide if we want to become official or not.”
“Like, get to know each other on ‘dates’?” You asked with a broad smile.
“Yeah, small dates.” he smiled back and finally made eye contact and was washed over with the warmth that spread through his entire body. His shoulders relaxed and leaned in, ready to hear all about you. “So tell me about yourself, Y/N L/N.” You chuckled, the smile never leaving your lips.
You both were over the moon, and the memory easily become your and his favourite.
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Doyoung smiled as he closed his diary. Reading his old entries, he felt nostalgic and happy. He glanced at your sleeping figure beside him. One thing that he had never ever regretted was loving you. He was grateful to have you by his side. 
You were his first love, and now, his wife. 
The diamond ring on your finger sparkled every so slightly in the dim light of your shared bedroom. Doyoung lay down on the bed beside you, staring at your sleeping face with a silly grin on his face.
It was your third wedding anniversary today and you being all excited and proud drank a little too much than you could handle,  knocking out soon after. Doyoung, being a smitten man for you found it hilarious, and adorable.
He tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear and continued to look at you with fond eyes over flowing with love. He kissed your forehead. He loves you so much, and nothing can ever change that.
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luna’s note ▸ congrats for making it to the end of the story, i hope you enjoyed reading! thank you for taking out your time and giving a chance to this work ♡ as always, feeback is much appreciated! please share your thoughts as a a small feedback can change my day for the better and give me motivation to bring more of such stories to you.
you can find more of my posted works here and fic ideas here!
© chocojae 2023
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vemuabhi · 6 months
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Kidd by your side
Annyong Haseyo! This is for the Green Flags Collab hosted by @suyacho​ please check it out! I hope you like my piece for your event! 
Pairing : Eustass Kidd X Reader
Word Count : 1.2K
Genre : Fluff, Romance
Summary : A cute romantic Fluff drabble, where you and Kidd go to Prom with a small hustle but still made it work.
Please read the story. I suck at summaries.
Please support me if you like my writings. copyright © vemuabhi
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"But The heels look so pretty Nami~", the orange haired girl sighed as she heard your pleas.
"Okay, fine. Wear them. But let me warn you they hurt"
"No problem!!", you held her hands in yours, "I will bring them back safe"
Finally you didn't have to spend money on your footwear. Getting the blueish black coloured prom dress was like a gods gift to you, finding it in a thrift store.
Luck was on your side. You held your head high as you left Nami's place with the heels.
Prom was just few days away. Now was the time for you to meet your date for prom. The man had two left feet so you had no choice but to teach him some moves making sure that both of you don't fall to ground on the main day.
"Hey man", you raised your hand to high-five your boyfriend which he returned as he pulled your hand making him to stumble forward into his arms.
"So, what moves do you wanna teach me miss", he smirked causing you to blush at his antics.
"Kidd, that sounds a bit-"
"Dirty", he ended your sentence.
"Whatever", you huffed as pushed him away, "Let's see how far we have come"
"Eager to be in my arms again, aren't we", he grinned at you.
You rolled your eyes as a smile still held your lips. "Smooth talker, how about we show some smooth moves, shall we."
He placed his right arm around your waist pulling you closer and stepped back making you step forward. His left held your hand. His crimson eyes had the glint of confidence in them. Well, he had been practicing dance with you for some days so naturally he got cocky. But... but the confidence made him... made him freaking hot. He swayed and pulled you around with your hand still in his. Your free hand had stayed on his shoulder.
"You watched youtube videos on how to dance", your statement made him to slip a gasp from his red lips. His eyes widened; cheeks turned the shade of cherry like his hair.
"Wha- tha- you!", he ended his sentence by stepping on your foot. Yeah, it wouldn't be the usual Kidd if he didn't step on your foot once at least during the session.
"Argh! Jesus", you hopped while Kidd walked beside you ready to catch you if you fall.
"Shut it. I didn't even step that hard", he was clearly suppressing his laugh at your situation.
You both sat on the bench. "Here", he handed you a water bottle.
"So...", your gaze shifted to the scarlet. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he continued, "4 days to go... right".
Ah... was he cute or was he damn cute. This big buff scary-ass looking man was such a romantic nervous mess in reality.
You snapped. You didn't even know how you pulled him by his collar and connected your lips with his which he didn't complain.
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You put on your dress and looked into the mirror Infront of you. You thought luck was on your side. But yeah... the moment you put on those heels.
Every step made your toes to scream for help. Thankfully Kidd was already waiting to pick you up.
"Eustass!", you gleamed as you looked at the man, the Kidd, the Buff, who wore grey suit with navy blue shirt underneath it.
His cheeks turned pink as he spotted you. His eyes looked different. His lips parted as you stopped in your tracks.
'Ah! Stunning he is', you thought. His hair was slicked back enhancing his sharp features even more.
Who said that his scars were scary? You could only admire him as he looked without any flaw to you. Except your administration was stopped as your ankle hurt because of the heels just when you took your step towards him. You looked back at your heels. 'Damn! But they look so pretty', you thought as your muscles cried their pleas.
"What happened?", his question made you to look at him again. This time he was beside you already.
"Nah, its nothing, lets go handsome", your words made him to click his tongue in embarrassment because you always make him blush when it should be the other way around.
"Your... dress also looks... nice", after fiddling with his jacket he offered his hand to you.
"You wanna hold my hand so badly~", your wink didn't help with his racing heart while your legs shook with pain under your dress.
Kidd kept glancing at you throughout the time you almost covered up your pain.
Even after getting down from his vehicle, you struggled to walk. Kidd kept holding your hand and stayed by your side while you walked, way too slowly than usual.
'Ah! Its over for me', your legs cried as the host announced that dance was starting soon.
"Wait here", you saw the red hair go into the crowd while you stayed behind still seated on the chair in the corner. No one really sits here, especially the people who have their prom dates. You remember the last time you sat here was the time when your date bailed on you last minute. That day you drank orange Juice as if it was booze.
'Ah- sad old times, at least now I have Kidd', you smiled to yourself then a cold touch on your shoulder made you to shiver.
"Why are you smiling to yourself?"
"Thinking about you, so smiling", he rolled his eyes as you took the can of orange juice from him.
"You know...", you tilted your head towards him as his leg kept shaking anxiously, he continued, "you could.... I mean... we could leave if you are not feeling well".
"I'm okay. Why did you think that?"
"Its just that", he gulped, "You... you were limp-", he was interrupted by the song which started to play. People started to dance to the song.
You got up. Took his hand in yours and tried to walk towards the centre, but no. Your legs gave out. Just when you were about to fall, strong arms stopped the fall.
"What is bothering you!", he exclaimed. Kidd got serious. "You are literally limping. Do you think you hid it well?"
"Ah, sorry Kidd", you said as you placed a hand on his cheek to calm him down. "My heels are killing me".
Kidd's serious features turned into more of a confused one. He knelt down and lifted your dress up.
"So, all because of some dumb heels. You dumb idiot concerned me as i felt it was a serious issue. This makes me dumb for worrying", all the while he removed your heels, while you held onto him to keep your balance.
He took the heels and got up. While he went to place the shoes in a corner, your legs found peace from being freed with them.
"You seem relaxed now", he spoke with a smirk on his lips as he placed his arms around your waist.
"It feels so good~", your happiness was so clearly visible which made him to chuckle.
"Let's dance now shall we", he said as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and lifted you up. He placed your feet on his making you gasp.
"I will not stomp on your feet this way and you can relax more now", he flexed his monster strength while giving such a beautiful dialogue. What is he?
"Okay dear, don't drop me now", you kissed his coat which was close to your face and even that made him blush.
"Dumb! I... I wouldn't drop you", he flustered before he swayed with you in his arms.
Well Kidd was on your side at least.
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Thanks for reading!
copyright © vemuabhi
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the-fiction-witch · 11 months
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Track Suit
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Media IRL
Character Thomas Brodie Sangster
Couple Thomas X Reader
Rating Sexy
Concept Snug Track racing Suit
I finally finished the dishes so I left the kitchen heading to the living room sitting myself in my usual side of the sofa with my pillows grabbing my tea mug from the side having a sip of the still warm tea. I smiled as I set my tea down leaning over giving his cheek a kiss 
"Hi TomTom" I smiled
"Hey buttercup" he smiled giving me a kiss too before returning his focus to the TV and the motorbike racing on it
"I miss anyone crash?" 
"No, but you did miss a guy in the stands who dropped his beer down a girls shirt"
"Awww damn it." 
"Yeah you missed out" he says having his coffee 
"Would you ever go racing?"
"I mean pretty much every time I go out with Jack we race to some extent. Last time I beat him on a race from one end of Oxford Street to the other at peak tourism season on a hot sunny day."
"Ooohh what'd win?"
"Bragging rights." He shrugs "and a slushie" 
"What colour?"
"Don't you mean flavour?"
"I mean colour Thomas" 
"Red and blue"
"Classic" I nodded "but I mean like track racing?"
"Fuck no. I don't wanna die." He says "look at that look how far they have to lean knee pads to the pavement at god knows what miles an hour. No thank you"
"That's fair. But don't you go knees to the pavement at god knows what speeds on roads where you know there are other drivers and police men? Isn't a track environment safer?"
"No it blurs the lines with track racing you end up in shit. Plus I prefer watching it. Plus track racing is a fucking expensive hobby"
"... How's the flying lessons thomas?" I asked sipping tea 
"Okay that's an investment. Four more months I get a pilots license. I'd like to see what you'll do in an potential apocalypse when you need someone to fly a plane safely and legally. Yeah. Pretty fucked then aren't you ground girl" 
"I'd fly. Just not legally. Or safely. And not sure how to land but what goes up must come down so I'll land one way or another" I laughed "but that's a pretty expensive hobby"
"Not like track racing. I'd need a new bike. Need parts for the bike to modify it. I'd need track paperwork. The bike would need paperwork. I'd need new gear. Paying for the track. Then a trailer because you can't have a road legal track bike. Then a car to pull the trailer. Not to mention hotel stays and expenses to go to track meets" he explained "see expensive"
"You thought about buying us a new house so you could have a plane at home."
".... No comment"
I sat and watched for a while eager for a crash but nothing and as I watched I felt eager to ask a question "Tommy?"
For a moment he glanced at me suspiciously "I know that tone. What do you want?" 
"You have one of those motorbike outfits right?"
"I have gear. And so do you" 
"Noo I mean the like suit"
"You mean the track suits like them?"
"Yeah"
"I do yes. Why?"
"Could you wear it?" I suggested he gave me another look for a moment confused but then sly 
"For what?"
"For whatever" I shrug 
"Maybe later. If your good" he says kissing my head and returning his focus to the TV as did I for a while until I had another idea 
"Tommy?"
"Ummm?" He mumbled about to sip more coffee
"Can I wear it?" I asked 
Immediately he choked on his coffee "what?"
"Can I wear it?"
"My track suit?"
"Yes"
"... I don't think you'll fit in it buttercup"
"Why not?"
"It's snug on me"
"You calling me fat?"
"No! But you know. You have additions. In areas. I do not." He says glancing at my body 
"Can I try? Pretty pretty please Tommy?' I point 
"Fine. Cupboard under the stairs with the rest of the gear"
"Yay!" I smiled jumping up grabbing it from the rail in the cupboard and heading to the laundry room to get it on. Honestly he was right it was pretty damn snug, o mean this is basically a leather jumpsuit with some protective pads on areas, once it warmed up it was a little easier even if you could tell I was too big for it, I had to strip down to only my bra and panties to even get it on having to jump and swear a little to get into it. Once I actually got it on I tried to zip up the front zipper but I got to my waist and it would continue "ohh come on" I complained breathing in sucking my stomach in as much as possible getting it up to under my breaths no matter how much I squished the zip just would not go getting stuck on my bras bones so I removed the bra and management with some squeezing to zip it up just over my boobs I did have a fair bit of cleavage but anymore I was actually worried about busting the zip. 
"Tommy" I giggled opening the door
"I'm not looking" he sighed sipping his coffee so I went and stood by the TV trying to look as cute as I could he opened his eyes and saw me immediately doing a spot take of his coffee in shock his eyes wide looking over every inch of me "FUCK!" 
"Hi"
"Hi… I am genuinely surprised you got that on" 
"Yeah it's kinda tight and this as as high as the zip goes"
"Kinda tight? Buttercup you seem exposed to me and I've seen you naked" 
"How does it look?"
"How does it look? It looks like you just walked out of my nineteen year old fantasy"
"Really? Maybe I should get one for myself" I smiled doing a small spin making sure he saw me from behind
"Holy God! Did you paint that over your ass? Damn!"
"You really like it that much?" I giggled
"Y/n I am insanely hard just from the sight of you I think it's pretty damn clear I like it" he says just as the zip gave up and slid down to under my breasts leaving how I'd scooped them in the only thing now concealing them leaving my bare skin exposed
“Oops”
“Do you have to be so god damn sexy”
“I mean I’m not trying that hard”
“I know! God damn sexy girlfreind. I will say its not very safe. I mean you came off the bike dressed like that I don’t think its really gonna protect you that much. Mostly because I think the slightest bit of pressure anywhere the whole things gonna bust open like an overstressed dam”
“But sexy”
“Sexy does make a compelling argument” He nods 
“I think I look great” 
"I have a really strange request" he says unable to remove his eyes from me 
"Yes Thomas?"
"... Can you let me film you on my phone like that? Possibly with a helmet under your arm? And even more possibly with you saying 'you look like you need a good ride'?" He asks 
"...why?" I giggled
"To look at. When I'm working away."
"So to masturbate to?" 
"Yes" 
"...fine, if you buy me my own little suit?"
"Done!" He agreed 
18 notes · View notes
alsjeblieft-zeg · 1 year
Text
082 of 2023
Are astrological signs at all important in a match?
No, it’s all bullshit to me.
Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color and/or racial background?
No. Both of my exes happen to be white, and so is my husband (although he looks quite ‘southern’, if you know what I mean; dark eyes, dark hair and darker complexion), but I don’t think I’d ditch someone just because of their skin colour. Everyone can be beautiful and I found many black and Asian people aesthetically pleasing.
Say you’ve started seeing someone you really like. As far as you’re concerned, how long will it take before you have sex?
Years. I’m not into this whole sex thing. If I decide to do it, it will be only to please them.
What’s the most exciting thing about getting to know someone new?
Curiosity about what they’re like, what they like, all that.
Is jealousy healthy in a relationship?
To an extent, I think. Overly jealous = toxic and overpowering.
What’s your relationship with marijuana?
I’m not against it.
In a certain light, wouldn’t nuclear war be exciting?
No. It’s fucking dangerous. I’m very interested in ionising radiation, so I know what would be the potential consequences.
How do you feel about the word “queer”?
I’m not bothered. Call yourself anything you want, it’s your choice.
Are you either vegetarian or vegan?
As close to vegetarian as possible. I still allow chicken and fish in my diet, but I try to avoid red meat because I don’t like it.
How do you feel about vegetarianism and what are your views on veganism?
Both are okay, but I’m not fond of extremists who try to force their beliefs on others. You’re vegan, fine. But don’t look down on people who are not.
Should evolution and creationism be taught side-by-side in school?
Yeah, so then children can see the difference and later decide which they believe in.
For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy?
I don’t want to speak up about it. First of all, it’s irrelevant to me because I’m a man. Second, it’s your decision because if there are consequences, you will be the one who bears them, not anyone else. So in my book, do whatever the hell you want and what you feel is the best for you. Nobody’s gonna experience it for you anyway.
Once you’re intimate, how often would you and your significant other have sex?
Ideally, never. But in reality, he does need sex sometimes, but I try to keep it at an absolute minimum, because I’m not into sex.
How often are you open with your feelings?
Very rarely. I don’t know how to talk about them.
Could you date someone who was really quiet?
Sure. My husband is not much of a talker, neither am I, and we get along perfectly.
Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other?
Well, we live together, so it can’t be avoided. :P In any case, I think leaving some space is healthier than being too clingy.
Are you fetish-friendly?
No, I’m fetish-indifferent. Do whatever you like, just not with me please.
Straight women who kiss or fondle each other in clubs in the hopes of attracting men are…?
Not interesting to me, but I’m gay anyway, so.
Which is worse: starving children or abused animals?
What about abused children? All of these are horrible. There’s no better or worse.
Do you look better dressed or naked?
Dressed, hands down. There aren’t so many people who are fond of dudes whose bones stick out.
How do you feel about foreskins?
Better with than without. Also on myself.
Is there at least one nude photo of you on the net?
I don’t think so. I’ve never sent nor posted anything like that anywhere.
Have you ever cosplayed?
No, never. I’m not really interested in it.
Is it wrong to sleep in a bed and/or cuddle with a friend of the sex(es) you’re attracted to when you’re in an exclusive relationship with someone else?
As long as you don’t do sexual things together, I don’t see a problem.
If you had your own private hot tub, would you go nude in it?
Most likely. If it’s private, then it’s private, what else is there to say.
Is it wrong to cultivate or manufacture illegal drugs?
Well, they’re illegal for a reason.
How do you feel about government-subsidized food programs?
Depends on the government. Every country does it differently, I guess.
Do you believe that heterosexual pornography is degrading to women?
Many of them decide to enter the industry and they know what they’re doing. If someone is forced to do it, then it’s degrading for sure.
Do you support the exploration of outer space and if yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet?
Sure, it’s just natural to be curious. But I doubt I’d ever go to space. I find it kinda scary.
Could you have respect for someone after having sex with them on the first meeting or date?
My relationship started off as friendships, and in such case I don’t see any problem with sex on a first date because you already know each other pretty well. Speaking of that, I definitely wouldn’t lose my respect.
Is it okay for men to wear makeup, and what’s your opinion of male cross-dressers?
"Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression". It’s a quote from a song and I live by it. Let people be who they want to be.
In terms of sex, how experienced would your ideal mate be with people other than you?
I couldn’t care less.
Do you often find yourself worrying about things that you have no control over?
All the time. My anxiety is bad.
Do you spend more money on clothes or food?
Still food, but only because there’s three of us, plus two cats.
Is a girl who’s slept with 100 guys a bad person, and is a guy who’s slept with 100 girls a bad person?
If you have a good personality, it doesn’t matter how many people you sleep with. As long as you don’t hurt people with it.
You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners; does that sound like a lot to you?
It does, but only because I’m not sexual. On long term, it doesn’t really matter, but I’d be a bit afraid of being pushed to be another one.
Do you feel like you’re still hurting from something that happened to you a long time ago?
Yeah, scars from sexual abuse never really heal.
Do you attempt to conserve water, energy or other resources during your everyday life?
I don’t have to worry about it as a person with disability.
When chatting with a potential friend or significant other online, is use of proper grammar and spelling important to you?
I don’t believe in online relationships.
Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity?
No children for me, thanks.
If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”, would you know the answer right away?
No. It doesn’t mean I’ve never done anything bad. It means there was a bit of it and I wouldn’t know what to choose.
Once you take a moral position, can anything be said or done to change your mind?
I don’t think so. I always try to see from both perspectives anyway.
Will you teach your children to believe in Santa?
No children. Not at all.
Outside of work and school, how inclined are you to investigate something that interests you?
Very much so. I’m really dedicated to my interests.
If a blind date used a coupon while paying for dinner, how would you feel?
I wouldn’t even go on a blind date. I don’t see the point.
What’s your opinion concerning strip clubs?
To each their own. Not for me, though.
Imagine that you’re given $1,000,000 and told you must give it to one of the following political causes. Where do you donate the money: right to free speech, right to bear arms, pro-choice causes or anti-abortion causes?
Right to free speech, but none of these is 100% appealing to me.
Could you be in a relationship with someone who had been previously sexually abused?
Sure. I’m that person as well. And even outside that, I’ve never been into sex. I don’t need it in my life and certainly I would understand the pain of my partner, speking from my own experience.
Under the right circumstances, would you allow a partner to lick your anus?
Ew. Ass is for shitting, change my mind.
Is there any aspect of your sexuality that you would be too embarrassed to ever share with a match?
What match? I don’t use dating apps.
Have your sexual interests become kinkier as you’ve grown older?
No. I’ve never had sexual inerests.
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baekhvuns · 2 years
Note
FIRST OF ALL SEONGHWA IS THE MAN FROM THE ICE GUY AND HIS COOL FEMALE COLLEAGUE, DID HE FUCKEN HEAR US OR WHAT?!?! 😳😳😳😳 I also headcanoned him as Noe from Vanitas no Karte and now I got him 💖 godddd... Seonghwa's and Mingi's outfits, mwah let me steal, I thought they were both wearing skirts 😭
Second of all red Woo is finally real, but the red is REDDDD and ginger/orange Mingi?!
The amount of times I wanted to read a Ateez/Stray Kids Ouran inspired fic, not even anything with romance or smut in it, just then in that world 😭
Please no white hair Hwa pcs, naaaaurrrrr I don't want them, they'll cost me my other kidney :/ this Hwa with this Taeyang lmaoooo
My dreams of long-haired Hwa are getting further and further away, ehhhh what's going on in the back on his head usususbsjhdushsjsgsg anyway he looks good
Nether Hybe nor YG said anything about that fiasco??? Maybe they're investigating it behind the scene, but idk. Tbh both BTS and BP get so much hate maybe they're not bothered anymore, but I feel bad for both of them. If they're really together, but for real real not PR that's such a fucking move wtf 😵
Damn such a Usui simp, miss Baek but I get it... I'm currently re-watching Orange, have you seen it? Ngl, I'm tearing up a bit.
Oh no so it's THAT kind of ending, huh. I actually saw something, but I have no idea what was that about 🤡 Yonna pls uncurse yourself
Track, tennis, skating quite a variety, tbh I'm team skating or tennis, but runner Hwa is really hot too and actually a thing, I don't think he can play tennis or skate ksudisvsnshsuwjw
I listened to BP's album once it was fine, there wasn't anything I disliked per se, but nothing shook me. Yeah, I like SD much more than PV, it's too short and maybe I would prefer some more singing, but it's alright! 2 Baddies 1 Porsche... I can't take them seriously 😭 and the chorus is so wrong, but surprisingly the vocal parts are pleasant. I guess everyone's a rapper now? Idk how to feel about that 😬 and speaking of blonde hair, blonde Taeyong is superior, love him in colourful hair too, but black haired TY doesn't look right, blonde all the way!
Same with that Byeol video I was like AWWWWW KITTY and the replies went WHAT ABOUT THIS PUSSY. Truly a crime we've never seen Byeol with Ateez members :/ yeah Hwa and animals, we don't have much content of that, it's a sad world
Btw pussy...
Me at every fan sign: soooo that Taemin cov- Seonghwa: *blacklists me*
Should've barged in to that Sunmi gig!
I had Turkish dramas phase ages ago, because Magnificent Century was so popular over here, I was at uni at that time 😭
Look at this thread this is so rigged... the 1st place... that's not even his best part in that song who botted it :/
This the shade is better though I think they need to still work with it a bit. me: bright blonde Hwa is my least fave, also me with platinum blonde Hwa: *feel like I'm your cat, I'm your dog*
Okay but they're up to something what if Cyberpunk Halloween MV????? Don't wanna get too excited, but I'm used to losing so whatever
The show is premiering tonight uuuuuuuuuuh - DV 💖
hi hello!!
FIRST OF ALL SEONGHWA IS THE MAN FROM THE ICE GUY AND HIS COOL FEMALE COLLEAGUE, DID HE FUCKEN HEAR US OR WHAT?!?! 😳😳😳😳 I also headcanoned him as Noe from Vanitas no Karte and now I got him 💖 godddd... Seonghwa's and Mingi's outfits, mwah let me steal, I thought they were both wearing skirts 😭
ITS NOT A COINCIDENCE ANYMORE EVERYTHING WE SAY COMES TRUE WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON 😭😭😭 ICE GUY JACKFROST COMING ALIVE he is everything and every white haired anime man !!!! YOOOO HWAS SKIRT LOOKED SO PRETTY IM GONNA NEED HIM TO DROP THE SHOP NAMES
Second of all red Woo is finally real, but the red is REDDDD and ginger/orange Mingi?!
STOP WOOYOUNG RED LIGHT ERA INCOMING FBFBF MINGI WONDERLAND ERA RETURN??? 😭😭😭😭😭😭 AND HELLO??
The amount of times I wanted to read a Ateez/Stray Kids Ouran inspired fic, not even anything with romance or smut in it, just then in that world 😭
omg i think someone was gonna write ateez as that but the event got closed 😭😭😭 someone needs to have a series where they write ateez fully as animes bC HOW HAS IT NOT BEEN DONE YET 😭😭
Please no white hair Hwa pcs, naaaaurrrrr I don't want them, they'll cost me my other kidney :/ this Hwa with this Taeyang lmaoooo
WHITE HAIR HWA PC’S ARE ABOUT TO BE 100 BUCKS NO COMPROMISING, one thing i absolutely hate about shinestar’s is that they don’t be giving discounts on pc’s,,, sorry wHAT ARE U GONNA DO WITH THIS MUCH MONEY GIRLIE
My dreams of long-haired Hwa are getting further and further away, ehhhh what's going on in the back on his head usususbsjhdushsjsgsg anyway he looks good
Nether Hybe nor YG said anything about that fiasco??? Maybe they're investigating it behind the scene, but idk. Tbh both BTS and BP get so much hate maybe they're not bothered anymore, but I feel bad for both of them. If they're really together, but for real real not PR that's such a fucking move wtf 😵
LMFAOOOO bald hwa back 😭😭😭 no bc the more they keep going silent, the more the fans are going crazy,,, the amount of likes tweets get that’s just straight up degrading miss jen but then those same fans preaching women power???? hypocrisy and every racist name in the book coming out ??? 😭😭 like their private accs are being shown and their photos from showering??? nasty as fuck how much tIMW DOES THAT PERSON HAVE jENNIE GIRLIE U NEED A STRONGASS PASSWORD BC ITS ALWAYS U BEING HACKED INTO 😭😭🤚🏼 nO YEAH IF THEY ARE TOGETHER, POWER COUPLE
Damn such a Usui simp, miss Baek but I get it... I'm currently re-watching Orange, have you seen it? Ngl, I'm tearing up a bit.
LMFAOOOO 😭😭 USUI REALLY STARTED IT ALL FOR ME DBDB YES I DO !!! every time i watch it i keep seeing harry hermoine and ron 😭😭
Oh no so it's THAT kind of ending, huh. I actually saw something, but I have no idea what was that about 🤡 Yonna pls uncurse yourself
YEAH UHUH THAT TYPW OF ENDING,,,, rushed, confusing… idk when the yoona curse is gonna be lifted bc cOME ON ITS BEEN WAY TOO LONG THE SHOW WAS SO GOOD THE ENDING JUST RUINED IT ALL IN 15 MINS
Track, tennis, skating quite a variety, tbh I'm team skating or tennis, but runner Hwa is really hot too and actually a thing, I don't think he can play tennis or skate ksudisvsnshsuwjw
u know we are discussing sports but this man out here ending every bakery owner by just sitting
I listened to BP's album once it was fine, there wasn't anything I disliked per se, but nothing shook me. Yeah, I like SD much more than PV, it's too short and maybe I would prefer some more singing, but it's alright! 2 Baddies 1 Porsche... I can't take them seriously 😭 and the chorus is so wrong, but surprisingly the vocal parts are pleasant. I guess everyone's a rapper now? Idk how to feel about that 😬 and speaking of blonde hair, blonde Taeyong is superior, love him in colourful hair too, but black haired TY doesn't look right, blonde all the way!
i can absolutely agree on the nothing shocked me line bc same, a lot of it sounds like recycled version of don’t know what to do (yeah yeah yeah) or pretty savage (typa girl’s bass) but nice album nonetheless !!!! LMFAOOOO PLSSSS 2 BADDIES I FWKFHWK WHYS IT LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 THE BUILD UP IS SO NICE BUT THE 2 BADDIES 1 PORCHE SENDS ME FBWKFH blond taeyong >>>>> johnny abs we are being fED 🤲🏼 and jaehyun??? he was pISSED HE ATE HIS PARTS UP
Same with that Byeol video I was like AWWWWW KITTY and the replies went WHAT ABOUT THIS PUSSY. Truly a crime we've never seen Byeol with Ateez members :/ yeah Hwa and animals, we don't have much content of that, it's a sad world
LMFAOOOO BEQKHDQK WHAT ABOUT THIS PUSSY 😭😭😭😭😭 THE TWEETS WERE SO FUNNY,,, need an ateez normal episode where the only animals they are with are cars and dogs and not them 😭😭
Btw pussy...
LMFAOOOO PLS 😭😭😭 he catching nO scandals
Me at every fan sign: soooo that Taemin cov- Seonghwa: *blacklists me* /// Should've barged in to that Sunmi gig!
JDJDJDJDDJ AND ITLL BE WORTH THE BLACKLIST ☺️ I SHOULD HAVE BUT THE SECURITY DBDBDB WOULDVE CHUCKED ME OUT
I had Turkish dramas phase ages ago, because Magnificent Century was so popular over here, I was at uni at that time 😭
UR GONNA HAVE TO GIVE THIS ONE A TRY BC ITS TRULY SO GOOD
Look at this thread this is so rigged... the 1st place... that's not even his best part in that song who botted it :/ /// This the shade is better though I think they need to still work with it a bit. me: bright blonde Hwa is my least fave, also me with platinum blonde Hwa: *feel like I'm your cat, I'm your dog*
NAURRR ONE OF HIS BEST PARTS IS DAZZLING LIGHT THAT NEW SONG CANT COMPETE 🔫🔫🔫 no 100 this shade is Mich much better than the SMN one 😭😭 IM YOUR CAT IM YOUR DOG LMFAOOOO PLS FHWKDHKWDHEK
Okay but they're up to something what if Cyberpunk Halloween MV????? Don't wanna get too excited, but I'm used to losing so whatever
I’d literally pass away on spot,,, but i have a question the villain reader x king hwa,, does hwa have black hair or this new one..
The show is premiering tonight uuuuuuuuuuh - DV 💖
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IM SO EXCITED TO BE COMPLETELY WRECKED BY JAE YOUNG 😭😭😭 1:28 pm : i-i am watching it right now and kyung pyo’s ceo character is 😳😵‍💫 he looks so cute and sincere 😭😭 1:31 n-nvm. BESTIE NANA’S CAMEO FJWJFKS 1:53 ohO
quiz 🔫
also idk if u have watched the anime negima but yeosang gives that exact core
0 notes
yuziyuanapologist · 3 years
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do you really believe that you can save his cheap life from me?
wei wuxian + his Bastard Smirk™ in the “our love will transcend universes” palette for anonymous
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[ID: 10 gifs of wei wuxian from several different episodes of the untamed. each gif shows him smirking. the photo in the caption is a color palette of five colours: white, pale pink, orange-pink, purple, and dark purple. the coloured text in the caption reads “ do you really believe that you can save his cheap life from me?” End ID]
(pick a colour palette and one or more characters/scenes and send me a request!)
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Text
Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?
Masterlist
The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!
Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)
Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.
Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-
MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.
News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are
At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.
Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!
If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.
Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.
If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.
On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.
If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.
No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.
MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.
“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.
“Yep!”
“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”
“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”
“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”
“Really now? Name one person.”
Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.
“…Cerberus.”
“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”
…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…
“You’re grounded.”
“Worth it.”
*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)
Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-
Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…
Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.
If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.
He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.
Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.
When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.
If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.
This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.
Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.
MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.
“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”
“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”
“Five years?”
“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”
Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”
“You mean your pyramid scheme?”
“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”
“It’s a pyramid scheme.”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)
Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.
So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.
Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!
Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”
For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!
When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.
The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-
Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!
IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!
Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.
The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.
Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.
H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?
Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…
Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!
“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”
“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”
“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”
“Oh… really?”
“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”
The Know it All (Satan)
Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.
Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.
MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.
The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…
Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…
The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.
He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.
It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.
Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.
…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.
He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.
MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…
“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”
MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”
“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.
“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.
“Yes, why?”
“Satan, put that back.”
“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)
Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~
Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)
He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!
While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.
Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.
If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.
Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.
After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!
The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…
Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.
Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.
“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”
MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.
“MC..?”
“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”
Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”
“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”
Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)
Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!
He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.
Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.
But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?
MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.
And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.
Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”
Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.
Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.
Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.
After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.
They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.
“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.
“So I can eat this?”
“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”
“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”
“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”
“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”
“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)
MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.
They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.
MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.
He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.
The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.
Other than that? *snore*
If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.
MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.
“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”
“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”
“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”
“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”
“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”
MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”
801 notes · View notes
yoonpobs · 3 years
Text
bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m
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WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!
NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!
WORDS. 3k+
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“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”
“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.
Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.
Personal affirmations came first.
“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—
“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”
Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.
But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.
“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.
“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.
Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.
“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.
“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.
“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”
“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”
“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”
I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—
“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”
“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.
“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”
“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”
“I said that it’d be sad if—”
“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.
See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.
The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.
But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.
Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.
Not for—
“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.
Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.
“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.
“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.
Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.
“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”
“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”
Jungkook flushes.
“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”
“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”
Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.
“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.
“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”
“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”
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“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”
“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”
You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.
“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”
And of course, you knew his name.
“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”
“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”
You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.
“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”
“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”
“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”
Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.
“Boyfriend.”
Seokjin raises a brow.
“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”
“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.
“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”
He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.
“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.
The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.
Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.
“You’re not her type.”
He scoffs.
“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.
“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”
With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.
He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.
Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.
It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.
“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”
It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.
“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”
“But—”
“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.
“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.
“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.
You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.
“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.
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“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”
Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.
It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.
The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.
“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”
“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”
“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”
Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.
The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.
“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”
You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.
“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.
“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.
Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.
Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.
You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.
“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”
Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.
“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”
You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.
“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”
Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.
“Jungkook,” you say sternly.
He sighs.
“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”
“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”
Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.
“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”
You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.
“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”
Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.
“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”
You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.
“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.
“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.
“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.
He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.
1K notes · View notes
shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (ix)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety
Word count: 3.9k
A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Additional Scene   || Previous Part  || Series Masterlist
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Hot single in your area! 😈  Find your solemate! 
Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.
Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 
He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 
Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.
Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 
Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦
Decline/Accept
He wants to strangle you. 
______
“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 
“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”
He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 
He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.
“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.
“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”
His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.
He can hear your laughter even without the phone.
“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”
He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 
“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”
“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.
“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.
“I know, you told me.”
Oh. 
“Okay, what now?” 
“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 
“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.
You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.
You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.
His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 
It never comes. 
Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 
“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”
Just like that, the show was ruined.
He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 
“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 
“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 
He stares at you. 
“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”
Pepper would not like that. 
“That’s not even evil.”
“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”
You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.
He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 
Fuck, he really had only one option. 
He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.
He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 
“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.
You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”
The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.
“Hey man, I-
“No.”
“You didn’t even let me finish.”
“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.
“I need your wings.”
“I was right. Bye.”
It was a long shot anyway.
“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”
“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 
Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 
“Yeah.”
“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”
“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”
He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 
“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.
“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”
“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 
He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.
He takes a seat on the ground and waits.
“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.
 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.
“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”
“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.
“Do you not like your team?” 
“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”
“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.
He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”
Although it was appreciated. 
“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 
“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?
“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”
“Building’s dark, red is good.”
“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”
“I don’t have anything against them.”
“Then why do you do this every week?”
This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 
“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”
“No other reason?”
“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”
“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”
“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”
“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.
“My roommate.” 
“I didn’t see him when I came over.”
“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”
Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.
“He hates superheroes?”
“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 
“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 
“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”
“Not even a tragic backstory?” 
“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”
“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.
“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”
“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 
“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”
“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 
You stare at him. He stares at you.
“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”
“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.
“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”
“Gorilla.”
“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”
“Where?”
“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”
“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.
“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”
“What the fuc-”
“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”
Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 
“Raw and uncut, baby.”
“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”
“Witch.”
“Huh?”
“She was a witch who stole my hair.”
“Wha-”
He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 
Fucking finally. 
He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.
Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.
“Buck,” Sam greets him.
“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 
A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”
“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 
“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”
Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 
You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 
“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 
“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 
What the shit.
Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.
“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 
“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.
This is not what Bucky wanted.
“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”
“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.
“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 
You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 
“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.
“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”
“Very positively.” 
Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”
You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”
“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 
“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”
“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”
“Sam just get the damn-”
“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.
“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 
“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”
Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 
“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.
Showoff.
“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.
“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 
“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.
“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”
“After the ‘A’?”
“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 
“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 
“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 
“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”
“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”
“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 
“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.
“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”
“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 
“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.
Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 
“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”
“I like red.”
As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 
“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.
“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.
You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.
“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 
Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.
“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 
“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.
You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”
“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 
Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.
“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”
Bucky rolls his eyes.
“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 
“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 
“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.
“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”
“Got the motorcycle.” 
“See you there.” Sam nods. 
“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.
“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”
“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.
“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 
When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”
“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”
He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.
“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.
“Yeah.”
“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.
“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”
“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”
From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 
Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 
“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”
“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 
“What?”
“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”
“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.
“Just don’t.”
“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”
“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”
“What about when you’re not?”
“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 
“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”
 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”
“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”
“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.
“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”
“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”
Adorable? Adorable?
“I hate you.”
“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”
He wants to cry. 
______
By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 
Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.
He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.
“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.
“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 
“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 
“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.
“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 
Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.
“She made this?” 
“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.
“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.
“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 
“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”
“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 
It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.
“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.
He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 
Tony has an idea. 
And that was generally bad news.
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saltybaltic · 3 years
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AYO YOU AMAZING WRITER YOU💖 Can you write an nsfw Natasha x reader sex pollen fic where r goes on a mission with everyone and is the only one that gets hit with the sex pollen and thinks nothing of it until they get back for the debrief and r starts feeling the effects during the meeting with the rest of the avengers in there like the fever and aches and is super turned on and humiliated and everyone is confused trying to figure out what’s wrong then Bruce says the only thing that can help is sex and she picks Nat to help her out? Something super smutty 😳
Natasha Romanoff X Reader - EXPOSURE
Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic
Synopsis: On a mission you seem to be the only one who’s been hit with this air borne drug. Fortunately you have a great team mate to help you through it
Warnings: 18+ content, f/f sex, sex pollen so the usual dub-con for this trope
Words: 2345
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You’d really thought nothing of it until you’d gotten off the quinjet. Even the whole journey home you had felt fine, brushing off everyone’s concern with a flick of the wrist as if it was nothing. You really had felt fine. The exposure to the gas back at the enemy base had been minimal, barely a few seconds, and after a brief once over by one of the SHIELD medics, you had been given the all clear that it was probably fine.
It wasn’t until you were walking towards the briefing room to have the post mission meeting that you started to feel anything unusual. Your skin was starting to itch with a burning hotness that was impossible to ignore. When you had parted ways with the team to quickly get changed out of your combat gear before the brief, you had treated yourself to a very cold shower but if anything it only seemed to have made you even more aware of how hot you were feeling. Washing at all was starting to feel like a total waste of time, your hands already clammy with sweat and the hair by your temples beginning to dampen and cling to the side of your head. Your brain felt fuzzy but at that same time it was like you were thinking with perfect clarity. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before.
Looking around the briefing room as you entered, it was as if you were wearing tinted glasses, everything not quite the way it should be and with a tinge of deep red or orange. You could feel every beat of your pulse against your skull, every hammer of your heart in your chest. Your throat felt dry yet you couldn’t stop running your tongue over your lips to prevent your mouth from watering.
It wasn’t until Natasha sat down beside you that it became apparent that something was very wrong. The smell hit you like a bus and it only intensified everything you were already feeling. It was like your senses had been dialled up threefold. You could take her all in as if it were carefully arranged layers just for you to enjoy; the coconut of her shampoo, the sweet smell of the lotion she’d applied after the shower, the laundry detergent on her fresh clothes, the smell of her perfume.
Maybe it wasn’t the most subtle reaction you could have had if you were hoping not to attract any attention, but jumping up from your seat so violently that your chair fell backwards with a loud crash certainly ensured that everyone’s eyes were now on you.
“Are you okay?” The concerned voice of Bruce from the other side of the room hit you but you could barely focus on what he was saying.
Standing up from her own seat to look at you more closely, Natasha cocked her head to the side as she examined your flushed skin, heavy breathing and blown out pupils. She turned back to the others in the room with a frown, “See, I told you she wasn’t alright.”
“But the medics checked her over.”
“Oh like they know everything.”
“Well they know more than you!”
“It was only a minor exposure and we don’t even know what it was.”
“She said she was feeling fine on the quinjet, I mean this could be something else.”
“Sure, it’s just a huge coincidence that she feels like this after being gassed.”
As the team descended into an argument, you couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Nor, did you care. You felt restless and fidgety, tapping your foot up and down against the ground as you rubbed at your forearms uncomfortably. Your jaw was clenched tight, tilting your head from side to side to work the muscles in your neck as you tried to get your breathing to return to normal. It felt like an adrenaline rush, that feeling that hits you just as the rollercoaster is about to go over the big drop. But it also felt like a hunger, a craving for something like you were a predator that needed to hunt. It was too hard to put your finger on it, too early in the stages of whatever you were feeling to identify it yet.
The sound of someone calling your name broke you from your thoughts, looking up at the rest of the occupants in the room to see them all watching you expectantly.
“What?”
Sitting down by a laptop at the head of the table, Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he tapped a few keys before looking up at you, “I’ll have to use the database we have to try and identify what you’ve been exposed to. But I need you to concentrate and answer a few questions okay?”
You nodded your head, closing your eyes momentarily as a wave of heat washed over your body and you tried to remained focused, “Sure, sure, sure let’s do it.”
“So this gas ... could you see it? Did it have a colour?”
It was so hard to focus on the question, your brain working at a million miles a minute but unable to make sense of whatever it was that you were thinking about, “Erm ... I don’t ... it was kind of ... like a greyish blue, I guess.”
“And a smell? Did it have a smell?”
“It was ... sweet. I suppose. Yeah ... but like ... a dessert or something. Like someone had lit a vanilla candle.”
The questions seemed to go on forever, with the occasional interjection from someone else as they tried to help with the answers. Each question narrowed the possibilities down further, Bruce carefully inputting the information into the computer. By the time he got to the bottom of it, you could barely think straight any more, your hands balling into fists as you tried to process the discussion that was taking place around you.
“That’s ridiculous, they don’t actually use that stuff.”
“Well obviously they do because here we are.”
“If they don’t use it then how is it in their files? We only have the information because we took it from them.”
“But there’s never actually been a case of it being used before.”
“Until now.”
“I mean just wanting to have a lot of sex doesn’t sound that bad, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.”
“Tony! Can you be serious for one second.”
“It isn’t that simple. This is like a real urge. It can be quite uncomfortable for the subject they-“
“The subject?! She has a name you know.”
“But she’s not gonna do anything crazy right?”
“Well no she won’t do anything she wouldn’t usually want to do but the need will be off the charts. It can drive people crazy if they don’t get some sort of relief from it.”
Finally you couldn’t take any more, clearing your throat loudly to get their attention and gesturing towards the door, “Yeah so this is pretty awkward, little embarrassing, bit too intimate to be honest so I think I’m gonna take off.”
“Wait, you should go to the med bay.”
You interrupted Steve’s statement with a laugh, already making your way towards the door as you used all of your willpower to ignore the powerful surge of hormones and need coursing through your body, “What are they gonna do for me there exactly?”
“I dunno, some of those nurses are pretty cute.”
Despite the fact Tony’s joke earned him a disapproving look from almost everyone, you were actually grateful for it, laughing again as you took his words as your cue to escape and hastily left. You were halfway to your room when you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind you.
“Wait up.”
God even the sound of her voice was getting too much now.
“Nat. Please, I really really can’t be around you.”
Despite your statement, the red head fell into step just behind you and followed you down the corridor, “I wanted to make sure you got back alright.”
“And while I appreciate that, you’re way too hot to be this close to me.” your eyes fell closed at your words, the effects obviously starting to hit you stronger now as the confession fell freely from your lips. You never spoke to Natasha like this, you wouldn’t have dared on a normal day for fear she’d knock you to ground. Whatever you’d inhaled earlier that day didn’t seem to share your reservations as the arousal started to make itself known.
Natasha pursed her lips, not wanting to embarrass you as she was fairly certain you would never have normally said something like that to her. Certainly not so blasé. “It’s okay. I know this must be ... overwhelming.”
You snorted, “That’s one word for it. But seriously ... I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”
“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”
Stopping outside your bedroom door, you looked back at the other woman and immediately had to close your eyes and turn your head away instead as a strong pang of arousal hit you, “Jesus.”
“What? Does it hurt?” the concern in Natasha’s voice was obvious, watching you carefully as your eyes bunched closed tighter and you pushed out a shaky breath.
Shaking your head frantically from side to side, you went to grab the door handle from behind the other woman, “It’s uncomfortable. It’s way too intense. I just wanna ... fuck ... I need to get inside ... I need ... I need you to move, please.”
The sensation of Natasha’s hands coming up to rest on your cheeks caused your breath to catch in your throat. It was almost too much, the feeling of her soft skin on yours was like electricity, a shiver travelling the length of your spine and a heavy drop hitting your stomach. One of her thumbs brushed over your cheek before she spoke, “Let me help you.”
When you opened your eyes to look at her, the feeling that came over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was as if someone else had taken control of you, like you were watching from the sidelines as your body acted of it’s own accord. The moment your eyes had locked with Natasha’s, everything you’d been fighting to control took hold of you and in three brisk steps forward you had the other woman caged between the door and your body, one of your hands coming up to rest on the wood beside her head.
“Natasha.” You paused to wet your lips, ignoring the huskiness to your voice as you scrambled around in your head for the smallest ounce of restraint, “You really need to leave now before I do something I can’t take back.”
If you had been expecting any reaction from the other woman, what she actually did would have been somewhere at the bottom of your list. Over the year or so that you’d worked with Natasha you’d had a mostly professional relationship, though that wasn’t to say you weren’t friendly with one another. However the forwardness of her next move was new territory all together.
Moving her hands from your cheeks, she ran them slowly down to either side of your neck. You could do nothing but lean into the gesture, goosebumps rising and flesh searing at the feeling of her fingertips digging into you. You were so lost in the sensation of her touch that you hadn’t realised she’d leaned closer until her hot breath hit the shell of your ear and she spoke in a low whisper, “But just think how good it would feel if you let me help you.”
Her words actually pulled a growl from the back of your throat, the ever growing heat between your thighs magnifying significantly at her words, “Nat ... last warning.”
Instead of backing down, Natasha tilted her head enough that her lips could attach to the side of your neck before speaking again, “Stop fighting it, I know you want me.”
That was enough. You couldn’t have prevented it no matter what had tried to stop you, pushing the door open with one hand as the other gripped the back of her neck and pulled her into a searing kiss. Practically falling through the door together, Natasha’s hands found your waist and all you could do was groan at the relief of the full body contact. Feeling the way her breasts pressed up against your chest, her tongue slipping into your mouth, her hands around your waist as yours slipped down to grope at her ass. God it was intoxicating and still you wanted more
If you had any control over the urges that were powering your body you’d probably have wanted to take your time. Your attraction to Natasha wasn’t something you were particularly ashamed of or desperate to hide. However you’d barely got as far as building up a friendship with the red head and so jumping straight into sex seemed like you were skipping a few important steps. Not to mention the fact that you were fairly certain this was not going to be a terribly slow or tender encounter. No. With the way you were already pulling her clothing from her body and tearing at your own, you both knew that this was something else all together.
Fortunately for both parties Natasha really didn’t mind. Of course after Bruce had explained the effects you would be feeling, what else would she be expecting really? But in the time the two of you had been working together she had come to care for you and the idea of you struggling alone wasn’t something she cared for. Also she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about you in a sexual way before, granted she never thought this would be how it happened.
In all your haste to get Natasha undressed you actually fumbled several times with the fastening of her bra, sure that you’d be embarrassed under normal circumstances but currently too frustrated and impatient to care. You were relieved when Natasha wordlessly reached around and undid the clasp herself, throwing the item across the room before wrapping her arms around your body to do the same with your clothing.
You could barely register what was happening as the two of you staggered backwards into your bedroom, barely managing not to trip over the clothing and shoes that you’d discarded on the way. You were too lost in her to bring yourself to care about being careful. Just kissing her was absolute heaven. Her tongue sliding over yours, lips working frantically together. You had expected Natasha to be a good kisser and maybe it was just the effects of what you had been exposed to but it was like a sparks were flying, a warm wave washing over your body and a pang of arousal with every soft moan from the red head that vibrated against your lips. The way she would occasionally suck your tongue more harshly into her mouth made you feel wobbly on your feet, and the sensation of her nipping your lower lip between her teeth had you desperate for more.
It didn’t take long for you to be pinned on the mattress beneath her, both naked now and lips still moulded together as she settled herself on top of you. Already you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against her thigh, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that had started to build. If anything you needed it more now, the arousal bordering on uncomfortable as you became acutely aware of just how wet you were against Natasha’s thigh.
The other woman didn’t need to be told, evidence of your arousal already coating her skin. She finally broke the kiss to lean down, but she had barely attached her lips to one of your nipples when you pulled her back up with a frantic shake of your head and a groan, “Please Nat, I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me already, please.”
You felt on the verge of crying you wanted it so bad, the whole experience completely foreign to you. It was bizarre to be overwhelmed with such a primal, animalistic need. Every time you found yourself in bed with a woman you enjoyed everything about it; lavishing her body with attention, the anticipation, the teasing, wanting to take her to the heights of pleasure over and over. This was nothing like that at all. You really just wanted to fuck. More than anything you wanted to come and you were fairly certain if you didn’t soon then it would be the death of you.
Nodding her head in understanding, Natasha pressed her lips to yours again as she propped herself up on one of her elbows, “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”
You were so soaked by now her fingers slipped easily inside of you and all you could do was lie back and release a loud moan. You weren’t sure whether it was in relief or pleasure but either way you were certain that Natasha’s fingers had to be one of the most wonderful things you’d ever felt in your life. Just one thrust of her digits already had your fingers grabbing at the sheets below you, heels digging into the mattress and head thrown back against the pillow in bliss as finally, finally you were given what you had been craving.
“Good?” asked Natasha, her fingers having stilled inside of you almost immediately as she waited for some kind of signal from you that what she was doing was definitely what you wanted.
Nodding your head hurriedly, you brought her mouth down to meet yours again, mumbling frantically against her lips between kisses, “So fucking good ... keep going.”
Natasha grinned, happy to oblige as she started to move her hand again and picked up a steady pace. Almost immediately your hips were moving of their own accord to match her, grinding down against her fingers as she worked them inside of you. Every thrust was heaven, the woman above you seemingly knowing exactly what you needed as she began to push into you harder and faster with each stroke.
Everything about it was satisfying the urges that had been threatening to overwhelm you. The brush of her hardened nipples against your chest as she moved above you. The frantic pants for breath into your mouth between heated and messy kisses. The intensity of how she was watching you and the subtle smirk on her lips as she knew how much you were enjoying what she was doing. When her thumb came up to brush over your clit you wanted to be embarrassed at the groan of pleasure that rang out in the room but you were too far gone now to care.
All of it was perfect. She was perfect. You could feel your head getting foggy, that faint twitch to your limbs as the pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach. As you tightened around Natasha’s fingers you craved the release that you knew was so close. The way her eyes were locked on you almost made you melt under her gaze, the darkened green eyes and pink tinged cheeks making sure you definitely wanted to have your way with her after this.
You could feel it happening, allowing the sensation of your orgasm to consume you as it started to hit with another brush of your clit and a curl of Natasha’s fingers. A loud cry of her name echoed off the walls at the action, your teeth sinking into the side of her neck in a failed attempt to muffle the noise. You couldn’t catch your breath at the feeling of satisfaction that finally swept over your body, hands gripping at her shoulders and toes curling into the mattress as you relished the moment. Your thighs quivered slightly and you could feel your pussy clenching around Natasha’s fingers, the red head groaning in quiet appreciation at the sensation. It was exactly what you needed.
And just as her fingers were beginning to still, you could already feel the arousal rising again. The tingles of pleasure had barely subsided and you hadn’t even had a chance to catch your breath before you were hungry for more. Natasha seemed to notice it at the same time you did, not missing the way your eyes had clouded over with lust again.
You were filled with relief when you caught her smirking and her fingers started to slowly move again.
Yeah, Natasha was definitely the right person to help you with this problem.
—//—
Find the morning after HERE
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duskholland · 3 years
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The Box || Tom Holland
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summary ↠ you feel a mysterious object in tom’s pocket... word count ↠ 4.2k. warnings ↠ mildly suggestive, but this is just some very easy domestic fluff :’) a/n ↠ this is a rewrite of a fic I wrote back in 2018! I sat down just to edit it, but I ended up adding 2.5k and changing most of it. lmao. it’s very cute though. very gentle. I was in a proper state after watching cherry, and working on this soothed my soul <3 hope you like it!
if you want to read the original version of this fic, you can find the link for it here <3
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You wake up to an empty bed and immediately get the suspicion that something is amiss. The sheets are pulled down, the duvet crumpled, and the mattress cool. As you draw your tired fingers over the space beside you, a soft pout finds your lips.
Tom’s away so often that he rarely skips out on the opportunity to cuddle you in the morning, and if he does, he’s always attentive in the way he pulls the duvet to your chin and tucks you in. He knows you hate to be cold, so he’d never usually jump out of bed so recklessly, leaving behind his uncovered side and your leg sticking out the duvet.
Perplexed, you yawn as you sit up. A quick glance at your phone confirms that it’s still early, and you find your confusion about your boyfriend’s disappearance quickly turning into concern. With a furrow to your brow, you slowly get out of bed, groaning softly as your tired limbs stretch and click. There’s an ache between your legs that makes you bite your lip, memories of the night before flittering through your mind like polaroids. You see flashes of a rose-tinted Tom, kissing up your thighs, panting into your shoulder, moaning sweet words of praise against your lips. He’d made you dinner, then laid you down, and you’d felt like the only person in the world as he’d cupped your cheeks and shown how much he loved you.
After pulling on a pair of leggings and a jumper, you find your curious feet taking you off in the direction of the living room. You hear Tom before you see him—the sounds of socks dragging over plush carpet filling the air. He’s pacing, half-naked, thick arms crossed over his bare chest as a few fingers stroke his chin. He’s in a thick pair of fuzzy purple socks, and rounding off the ensemble are some simple grey sweats.
When your boyfriend reaches the other side of the living room, he pivots and starts to walk back towards you, gaze vacant and fixed on the floor. There’s a tenseness to his jaw that you haven’t seen in a while, the valley between his brows pronounced and deep. Stress is obvious in every single part of his person, and it makes you so concerned that you decide to shatter his reverie.
With a gentle clear of your throat, you step forwards.
“Tom?” you say, voice soft. Your eyes widen as he startles, head snapping up, loose brown curls springing through the air. “Baby, are you okay?”
He blinks at you for a few moments, seeming to shake off the daydream as his lips pull into an instinctive smile. When he meets your eyes, the nerves on Tom’s face start to melt. He gives you a tight nod as he walks towards you, folding into your outstretched arms and immediately burying his face in the crook of your neck.  
“I’m fine,” he vibrates, voice dark and husky like it always is in the morning. “Are you?”
You cup the back of his head with your palm, dragging your fingers through his curls in a way that soothes him. He’s so warm, his arms strong as they wind around your waist and hold you in a tight hug. Your heart beats a little faster at his question. He’s always been so attentive, even in times like these where it’s clear that he’s significantly worse off than you.
“I’m okay,” you respond. You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he releases a quiet sound of approval, snuggling closer. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” You pause for a few moments, hesitating. “Is something wrong? Is this about last night?”
You know that Tom loves you. He shows you every single day that he adores you. He leaves your special mug out by the kettle, brings home your favourite snacks from the shops, does your dreaded household tasks unprompted. He looks after you when you’re ill, has all the names of your extended family memorised, and always does his best to coax a smile onto your face. His love for you is as obvious as the stars that twinkle in the sky.
Yet, he left you alone, and he’s stressed, and even as you’re voicing your concerns, you can feel him tug himself free from your embrace. It’s hard not to focus on the loosening of his arms and think about his odd behaviour from the last few days. Tom’s been on his phone more, acting scatter-brained and nervous. You don’t doubt his love, but with his life as hectic as it is, you worry about him.
“Last night?” Tom says. He pulls back, warm hands falling to your waist as he peers at you, shaking his head. “Darling.” He frowns. “Last night was amazing.” His lips pull into a slight smirk as he squeezes your hips, eyes glinting a shade darker. “I had fun. Didn’t you?”
You press a light kiss to his cheek, shifting both of your hands to cup his face. His skin is so soft beneath your fingertips. “I had a nice time,” you agree, pushing back the memories before you can get too lost in them. “You’ve been stressed recently,” you observe, treading gently. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”
Tom closes his eyes, inhaling a quick breath. “Yeah... I know. I… Yeah. I’m fine.”
You play with a few strands of his hair, trying not to frown too much. “Are you sure?”
He pries open an eye, the honeyed hues of brown bringing you a sense of comfort. “I’m a little stressed at the moment. I have to do something today, and I… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, love… A lot.” He breaks into a breathless chuckle, swallowing nervously. “It’ll be fine. I know it will, but I… I can’t stop thinking about it.” Tom’s gaze shadows a little, and he swallows. “You do… You do love me, don’t you?”
“You have to know how much of a silly question that is.”
Tom bites at his lip as he sheepishly averts his gaze. “Yeah…” He’s sly as he gently pushes forwards to kiss your cheek. “‘Know you really loved me last night,” he rasps into your ear.
You roll your eyes, but you’re glad to see there’s some colour coming back to his cheeks. “What are you doing that’s got you so nervous?”
“Oh… Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Tom looks a little perkier now as he glances at you. “Nothing,” he repeats. “Well, a secret,” he clarifies. “I can’t tell you yet.”
Immediately you pout. “But why?” you whine, pulling your hands away from his face. “You can’t say all that and then not tell me what you’re doing.”
“Yes, I can.” He grins as he steps back, only leaving you once he’s kissed your lips. He hesitates for a moment before adding, “I love you. So much, darling.”
“I know,” you respond, tilting your head to the side as you look at him curiously. “I love you too.”
“Good. Good…” Tom steps back, briefly glancing behind you to the living room wall. His eyes widen as he looks at the clock. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I need to go.”
Tom runs away before you have a chance to catch him, stumbling back into the bedroom as he mutters something about finding some clothes. You decide to leave him to it, a yawn reminding you of how early it still is. You wonder for a moment why he hadn’t mentioned he had an early call time last night, but he’s been so all over the place recently that it doesn’t surprise you.
As you wait for Tom to re-emerge, you walk over into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle. You can hear him whistling to himself through all the open doors, and the melody mixes with the sound of your teaspoon bumping against the ceramic of your mug. It’s your favourite one—Tom had brought it back from Paris for you.
You’ve just settled at the kitchen table when Tom bursts back into the room, properly clothed and considerably more at ease. His hair is a little wild, but he’s in a pair of jeans and a lilac hoodie, and he wears his smile with confidence.
“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous this morning, darling?” Tom murmurs. He springs across to you, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the counter as he goes. When he reaches you, he tightly cups your cheeks and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Because you are, y’know? The most beautiful woman in the world.”
You chuckle as you sit back in your chair, cheeks aching from your dopey smile. “Thank you,” you respond. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.”
Tom pulls on his jacket and then reaches down, stealing your mug of tea and taking a long sip before you have time to warn him about how hot it still is. You watch as he splutters, cheeks burning red as he releases a yelp of pain.
“Fucking hell!” he yells, cursing a little more as he puts the mug back down. Tom sticks out his tongue, tenderly reaching up to poke at the tip as he winces. “Ow,” he whines, the word garbled around his open mouth. “It hurts.”
He looks very sweet standing there, and for a moment, you wonder how it’s possible to love someone so much. Your affections smother your chest, and you almost choke up as you’re briefly overcome with a sensation of utter adoration. It’s so intense that it almost hurts, but it aches in the most wonderful way.
You stand quickly and press a soft kiss to the tip of Tom’s tongue. He smiles and retracts it, chasing after your lips until he’s able to kiss you.
“It’s Harrison’s birthday party tonight,” Tom says as he steps back, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’ll be back from set at 9, then we can go. Is that still okay?”
You nod. “Yeah,” you reply. “Have a good day doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
He smirks elusively, then presses a final peck to your cheek before turning towards the porch. “Bye!” Tom pauses in the doorway to look back and send you a few air kisses, and you pucker your lips and send a couple back. The front door closes with a gentle click, and your smile lingers on.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You think about Tom’s behaviour all day, flipping between confusion and adoration as easily as the wind changes its mind. When 5pm rolls around, you find your way back home, and you spend a few hours milling around before you get ready for the event.
With your dress on and your bag slung over your shoulder, you wait in the porch for Tom to pull up, scrolling through your phone with a crease between your brows. Time is ticking, and with every second your boyfriend fails to show, the nearer you get to being late for the party.
When there’s a bright burst of light and the crunching of gravel, you glance up to see Tom’s headlights douse the driveway to your house. You’re surprised when he clambers from the car instead of jauntily honking the horn as he’s taken such an irritating liking to doing. You watch him mess around with his jeans before hurrying along the front path, pushing open the front door a moment later and startling when he sees you waiting.
“Oh!” he exclaims wide-eyed. His hand drifts down to rest over the left pocket of his jeans. “You’re here?”
You pull a face. “Yes? Hello to you too.”
Tom grunts as he moves forward to kiss you hastily, jumping back when you try to pull at his waist and bring him nearer. As you’re left baffled by his behaviour again, he seems to swallow down a lump in his throat.
“Hi,” he corrects, smiling nervously. “I, uh… I’m going to go and change.”
You wince. “We don’t have time,” you point out, reaching out to gently tug on his sleeve. You turn around, reaching back to pluck one of Tom’s stylish jackets from a peg. You offer it to him with a smile. “Try this,” you suggest. “We really need to go, though, Tom. Haz won’t let us live it down if we’re late to another one of his parties.”
Tom hesitates. You watch as he digs his hand into his left pocket, clucking his tongue. “I… Yeah. Okay. You’re right.” His eyes flutter back to the main body of your house, but his reluctance fades when you nod and peck him on the cheek. He easily pulls off his hoodie before replacing it with the jacket, the red of the smart coat complementing his black t-shirt.
“C’mon,” you urge. “Do you want me to drive?”
He begrudgingly follows you out of the house, locking up behind you both before slipping into the passenger seat. As you navigate the roads, Tom keeps you company, nurturing a constant dialogue as he chats to you. He avoids all of your questions about his day and his mysterious engagement, redirecting everything you say into a comment about you and your activities. It’s cute how much he cares, but you get a distinct feeling that he’s trying to distract you.
Harrison’s birthday party is being held in a bar in central London, and you find him easily amongst the throes of people. Tom’s holding onto your hand, standing back, quieter, as you pass over your gift to his best friend with a smile on your face.
“Happy birthday, Haz!” you exclaim, beaming at the man. Harrison kisses your cheek as he grins, cheeks flushed from the booze and warm atmosphere. When Tom is noticeably quiet beside you, you squeeze his hand and glance back at him, raising a brow.
“Oh,” Tom mutters, blinking a few times. “Sorry,” he adds. “Happy birthday, Harrison.”
Harrison rolls his eyes. “‘S alright, mate. You already passed on your congratulations earlier. Thanks, though.”
Your friend is pulled away by his sister a few moments later, leaving you with a confused furrow to your brow. You turn around to look at Tom, tilting your head to the side.
“Wait, when did you see Harrison?” you ask. “Weren’t you at work today?”
Tom reels you in by the hands, knocking his lips up against yours and disrupting your words. “Doesn’t matter,” he soothes, rolling his fingers gently across the sides of your face. “Let’s just have a good party, yeah?”
You melt into him with ease. “Okay,” you agree. His lips are warm and seductive as he kisses you again, deeper, harder, stronger.
Something is in the air. As a pair, you make a few rounds of the party, but somehow, you always end up huddled in a back corner together. As the alcohol flows and your friends around you get less and less observant, it happens more often. It isn’t long until Tom’s tugging you down onto a secluded armchair in the corner of the artsy bar. Your lips find home in his, slotting together as they always do.
As you shift in his lap, part of you feels guilty for blowing off Harrison’s birthday, but another part—a darker, hungrier part—demands you stay exactly where you are. You’re awfully comfortable with Tom’s hands on your hips and your legs spread over his thighs, content with the shadowy lighting leaving you secluded from the rest of them.
“Oh god,” Tom moans, speaking against your lips as he kisses you between laboured breaths. “Fuckin’ perfect woman, eh?”
You suck on his lower lip, smirking as you feel him whine. He discreetly grinds up into you, and you bite back a whimper. “Tom,” you whisper. You move your mouth to his ear, stroking your fingers through his curls as you brush your lips over his tender skin. “We shouldn’t do this here. We can’t go home just yet.”
He groans, head dropping down to your collarbones. When you expect him to agree and help you up, Tom instead seems to decide that his time would be better spent marking up your neck. Your pulse roars through your ears as he takes time licking and sucking and biting your skin, stretching from the base of your neck all the way up, up, up, soft lips suckling below your ear. By the time he reaches your face, you’re squirming, heat pounding in your body as desire replaces any wish to stay at the party.
“We should just go home,” Tom pants, lips red and inflamed. Your fingers drag over them until he uses his tongue to lick over the pad of your thumb. “I can’t take being here.” His voice drops down to a low grumble as he shifts in the chair, “‘m so hard, sweetheart.”
Wanting to feel for yourself, you shuffle up his lap, eyebrows furrowing together when instead of feeling his hardness, your knee knocks against something firm lodged where his pocket is. Confusion replaces lust as you tilt your head to the side. “Wait, what’s that?” you muse, unable to believe that his arousal has manifested itself in his jean pocket. Intrigued, you poke the object, pressing harder as your brows furrow.
Tom’s eyes widen. “O-Oh, no, that’s something else.” His hands go down to your waist as he tries to gently push you off his lap. “Just ignore it.”
But your curiosity has been piqued, and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached up and dug your fingers into his tight jean pocket. It’s dim and dark in your secluded corner, and you find yourself squinting as you bring the small object closer. Too focused on your task to hear Tom’s noises of panic, you pull it up into the air. As the first dredges of realisation wash over you, you’ve got it half-open, and it’s too late to stop yourself.
There is a glistening engagement ring embedded inside the silky black box, glinting magnificently.
Your jaw drops.
A few moments pass in silence, the air between you being filled by the songs coming from the bar. Your thumb wanders absently over the edge of the jewel as you peer at it, heart throbbing in the back of your throat. Guilt twists into you, mixing with your excitement and your shock, and you look up at Tom, tears pooling in your eyes.
He’s looking at you, nerves written all over his face. His teeth are bared, and his eyes are wide with shock, every inch of him seized up and tense. When Tom sees your tearful expression, he blinks a few times, clearing his throat as he tenderly reaches up to cup your face in a hand.
“Darling…” he starts, voice softer than before. He drums his index finger over your temple as he manages a tense smile. “What’s going on up here?”
You open and shut your mouth a few times before finally finding the words.
“I’m sorry,” you manage, voice thick. “I…” You take a breath, looking away. Your mind starts to spin, suddenly kicking back to life as you recover yourself. “Wait… Why have you got this in your pocket? Did… Oh. Did you get this today?”
Everything makes sense. His nerves all week, his pacing this morning. The fact he’d left suspiciously early and met up with Harrison without you. Tom’s conflict when you’d pushed him out the door instead of letting him enter your house and stash the little black box before leaving for the party.
“Yeah,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. His chest is rising and falling quickly, his jaw still tense. “What do you think? Do… Do you like it?”
You nod wordlessly before looking up at him, lower lip wobbling. “I ruined it,” you lament. You fall forward, groaning as you rest your forehead on Tom’s shoulder. He chuckles, dusting the top of your head with light kisses as he hums.
“You didn’t,” he assures you. “I’m just a twat and didn’t hide it properly.” He falls silent for a few moments, warm hands wandering your back. “Y/N, darling… You… You would want to get married though, yeah?” His voice is light and high-pitched and full of so much uncertainty it makes you bolt upright.
“Tom,” you say, voice soft. You balance the box between you and reach up to take his face in your hands, admiring his handsome features with your fingers. “I would love to marry you,” you whisper. You feel yourself well with emotions again, but you let them build. You don’t mind if he sees you vulnerable.  
Tom releases a deep breath, his own face twitching as relief ripples across his eyes in the form of light tears. He leans closer and kisses you very gently, his mouth soft and tender as if he’s savouring it. When Tom pulls away, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, the tip of his nose cool against yours.
“I love you so much,” he says slowly. “Every day, I wake up beside you, and I wonder what I did right to deserve being loved by someone as wonderful as you. I hate being away from you, and I think about you all the time.” Tom cracks a soft smile, his voice quivering. With trembling fingers, he reaches between you both and picks the box from between you both.
You gasp softly as he pulls back, squeezing your hip softly before holding the box out in front of you. The diamonds sparkle, blurred by your tears.
“Y/N… I didn’t plan to do this tonight, and I know this is sudden, and I know you deserve a proposal a thousand times more romantic than… than at Harrison’s fucking party, but I can’t wait another moment.” He swallows as he pulls the ring from the bed of silk. Tom’s gaze is unwavering as he looks back to you, speaking passionately. “There’s nothing else I want in life apart from you. I promise that I will love you for the rest of my life, darling, if only you’ll let me. So…” Tom’s lips pull into a small smile. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?”
The world stops, and everything fades until it’s just you and Tom and the ring held between you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, two stray tears dripping down your face.
“Tom… You could ask me to marry you anywhere, and I’d say the same thing.” Your heart pounds in your ears. “Yes. I would love to be your wife.”
Tom releases a strangled sound of relief, and you both look down as he hurries to push the ring down your finger. It’s cool against your skin, but before looking at it, you find yourself leaning in to kiss him. Both of you are smiling, and you think he’s crying too. His hand shakes as he holds yours, and when you pull away to admire the ring, Tom loops both arms around your waist.
“It’s so pretty,” you muse. You roll your thumb across the glittering gem. You feel so warm inside your chest. “Did you pick this out yourself?”
Tom makes a noise of disagreement. He cuddles in closer, burying his face in your neck and leaving a few soft kisses to your skin.
“Haz helped, and so did mum. Thought she’d have better ideas than him.” Tom pauses, and you feel him smirk against your neck. “I was right.”
Your heart softens a little at the revelation. “Do you think he’ll be upset that we’ve upstaged him at his party?”
Tom peels back from your neck, pressing his lips to your jaw as he chuckles. “Let’s...maybe not mention it tonight.”
You run your hand through his hair, eyes catching on the way the diamond cascades with shards of light. “Okay,” you agree. You lean closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Are you sure you’re not mad I ruined this?”
Tom shakes his head. “Absolutely not, love. If anything, this just makes it more special.” He shoots you a toothy grin. “Don’t know what I’ll do with all the stuff I bought to use in the proposal, though.”
You smirk softly. “Well, who says you can’t do two proposals?” you say, intending for it to be a tease, only to widen your eyes when Tom’s entire face lights up. “Wait— babe, I was kidding, you don’t need to do another—”
“Shhh.” Tom cuts you off with a kiss. “Pretend that this conversation never happened.”  
“What, even the proposal—”
“No.” He’s grinning, eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re marrying me.”
Your lips twitch as you give him a slight nod. “Yeah. And you’re marrying me.” Tom kisses you again, and you fall back into his lap with ease. For a few moments, you make out with him, the temperature in your body rising until you remember what started off the conversation, an eternity ago. “Can we go home now, Tom?”
He’s a little slow to respond as he chases your lips, but the smile you share feels like dawn breaking for the first time.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’ll take you home, fiancé.”
And you like the sound of that. You really like the sound of that.
“Okay, fiancé.”
Judging by the unstoppable grin that finds Tom’s face as he hears you speak, you have a feeling that he likes the sound of it too.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ 
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
:’))) im going to be rewriting/reworking a few of my older fics! if there are any in particular you’d like to see refreshed, lmk? 
lmk what you thiiiiink !!! <3<3<3<3
masterlist + taglist through the link in my bio wahey :D
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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years
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Deep End  -  Four
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Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader
Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.
Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Manipulation, Fluff, Smut, 
Word Count: 2.9K
A/n: Hello and welcome, formally, to part four. I hope you all had a lovely weekend and have an amazing week! I love you all very much.
Madness Masterlist
Bad Dream Masterlist
THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!
~*~
You sit nervously on the lip of the bathtub, picking at the skin around your thumbnail as you wait for the timer to ring.
It feels like it’s been hours already.
“It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry. If it isn’t positive, we’ll just keep trying.”
Steve's words don’t ease your anxiety the way he thinks they do.
Your eyes are trained on the timer, counting down the seconds, though you already have a feeling of what the tests are going to say.
The alarm sounds like war drums and you’re racing for the row of sticks on the bathroom counter, your heart dropping into your stomach as you inspect them.
Positive.
Every single one of them.
Tears fill your eyes and you bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.
There it goes.
Your last shred of hope for gaining freedom. Out the window, just like that.
Steve’s arms come up around your shoulders, hugging you tightly.
“I knew it. I just... I knew. You smell different, your breasts are bigger. I fucking knew it.”
He nudges his nose against your cheek until you finally tilt your head back, and then his lips are on yours.
You don't fight him, too hopeless to even try anymore.
Your tears are salty, you can taste them on his lips, but he doesn’t seem bothered at all by them. No, he still kisses you, walks you out of the bathroom towards the bed.
He helps you out of your clothes, his hands groping and squeezing every inch of you as if he’s never felt you before, as if you’re the first woman he’s touched in forever.
The tears are steady, continuing down your face as he pushes you gently onto the bed, his lips trailing over your inner thighs while his eyes raise to yours.
“We’re gonna have another baby, honey. I always knew your body was perfect. Absolutely made for me. And now you’re gonna give me another baby. You’re gonna grow all nice and round...” He trails off, his eyes dark and full of lust as he gazes down at your stomach as if picturing you pregnant again.
“C’mon, darling. We need to celebrate.” He sheds his clothes so that you’re both naked, his warm body pressed tightly against yours, though it does little to quell the shivers of distress rolling down your spine.
Pregnant. Again.
He places kiss after kiss onto your neck, trailing down to your breasts and halting there.
“Can’t wait for you to be nice and big again, all full and round because of me. Fuck, can’t wait ‘till you start makin’ milk again, honey.”
His lips latch around your nipple, sucking hard enough to make your back arch, a whine of pain and pleasure rolling out of your mouth.
“That’s it. M’gonna make you feel nice, honey. Gonna make you feel loved. You know I love you, huh? Yeah. I do.”
His words make your stomach twist in uncomfortable knots, and you close your eyes to avoid the intensity of his gaze. You focus instead on the feel of his body against yours, nice and warm and heavy.
One of his hands snakes between your legs, toying with your clit and dipping into your heat to prepare you for his cock.
“Getting all wet and messy for me, huh?” Your eyes remain shut, blocking out his face, the face of the man who’s done so many atrocious things to you.
He thrusts his fingers in and out rather slowly, dragging them against your sensitive walls until he deems you ready enough for him, though there’s no way to truly be ready for him.
He positions himself between your legs, perched on his haunches while his hands rub over your thighs gently.
“Can’t wait for you to have my baby, sweetheart. Gonna watch you get all nice and full, bring another life into this world for me. That’s what you’re here for, darling.”
He slides his manhood through your folds, coating himself in your essence before slowly pushing into you, forcing every inch into your tight wet heat.
Your mouth drops open, brows pulling together at the stretch of him so deep inside of you, pushing against every resistance your body brings forth. He forces himself into you until he’s seated comfortably, cock held tightly by your fluttering walls.
“Fuck, feel that. Feel you. So tight... tight ‘n wet. Fuck... Fuck...”
He pulls back then pushes in, each thrust slow and precise and far too good. You hate how good he makes you feel, how well he knows your body. You hate how good you feel beneath him, how right it feels to be with him, to be held in his arms.
And you fucking hate him for making you enjoy a single second of time spent with him.
His thrusts speed up until he’s hammering his hips into yours, each movement of his hips forcing his cock to press against your cervix painfully, but the pain is welcome.
It’s what you deserve for enjoying it.
A soft moan falls from your lips when he drops his hand between your legs, fingers working your clit with practiced ease.
He’s spent months learning and re-learning your body, he knows you almost as well as he knows himself, and if the only way you want him is physically then fine, but he’s going to make that want stronger than your hatred for him.
“O-oh god...” Your eyes squeeze shut as the edge creeps closer, each pass of his thumb on your clit and his cock between your walls bringing it so much nearer.
“You gonna cum for me, honey? Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” You nod, if only so he doesn’t stop.
“Fuck, you feel so good, darling... so good.” He picks up speed, and you get lost in your orgasm like a leaf in a windstorm.
It picks you up and pulls you from reality. Bliss clouds your mind, your senses, and nothing matters except the rolling waves of pleasure flooding you.
“Just like that, honey... fuck.”
He drops his head into the crook of your neck, breaths hot and damp against your skin as he follows you into the blissful embrace.
His hips stutter to a stop, warmth painting your walls and filling you to the brim, just like he always does.
He pants against you, his mind consumed with obsession, adoration, love. He finally has you back in his arms. Finally gets to rebuild his family, get the happy ending he’s been craving.
He’s not gonna give it up.
You’re right where you belong.
~*~
He waits an absurdly long time before telling anyone.
He doesn’t want anyone to know, especially not Nat. Bucky, sure, he can know, but not Nat. Not after the way she kept so many secrets for so long.
It isn’t until you start showing -about two months after the positive tests- that he finally tells the two of them the good news, inviting them over to help set up the baby's room and have a nice night with his family.
Bucky and Steve have just finished painting the walls yellow, a neutral baby colour that you suggested.
Steve insists that you sit slightly outside the room, even though both windows are open and a fan is going, the paint specifically bought because it’s non-toxic.
But you don’t argue. You’ll sit as far away from them as possible.
Sarah’s in your lap, her eyes focused on the colouring book on the ground in front of her, her tongue poking out between her lips as she tries to stay inside the lines.
“Alright. That’s the crib all done. Honey, you wanna grab us a drink?”
Your head snaps up at Steve’s request, and you nod, rising to your feet and instinctively dropping a hand to your small bump.
“Can I help?” Sarah asks excitedly, bouncing up onto her toes and following you down the stairs.
“Of course. You wanna bring this up to Uncle Bucky?”
You pour two glasses of lemonade, one for the blond and one for the brunet.
“Can I have some?” You nod, grabbing a cup for her as she starts carefully up the stairs with the glass.
“Need a hand?” You stiffen, eyes slowly raising to the redhead’s.
“No.”
She sighs, taking a seat at the counter.
“Just hear me out, (Y/n), please. I just... I just wanna explain. Please.” You grind your teeth together at her.
“What could you possibly have to say to me? How could you possibly explain the way you betrayed me? Betrayed Sarah? You got my dad killed, Natasha, and now I’m pregnant again.”
She looks so lost, so desperate, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s her fault you’re here.
"Just please, (Y/n). Please.” There’s nothing you can really do to stop her. It’s obvious that Bucky and Steve would side with her over you in a heartbeat.
“I never breathed a single word of your whereabouts to anyone, I swear. Not even my therapist. I swear on my life, (Y/n) I never told anyone where to find you.”
You look up at her and shake your head.
“You were the only other person who knew where we were hiding.”
She lets out a shaky breath and looks away from your eyes.
“After what happened at the cabin I started going to therapy. Saw a good therapist who helped me get through a lot of stuff. James was going to therapy too, we were getting better together.”
You don’t think any therapy in the world will change the fact that James Barnes is a monster through and through, but you don’t say that to her. No, you let her continue.
“I started getting better. James did too. We got back to work, to helping people,  being the good guys.”
She pauses, sniffling then scrubbing at her cheek.
“I told him that uh, one of my friends had a baby and that spending time around them made me want one too. It upset me because that... that’s a dream that I’ll never be able to have. Or, I thought it was.” A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, but it lacks any positive emotions behind it.
“He told me about this experimental procedure that they started doing in Switzerland. Reversals for female sterilization. Highly experimental but... he said I should give it a shot. The worst that would happen would be... well... no worse than what I’ve had to live with for most of my life.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, not in defiance but in comfort. Self-comfort, and for a moment you feel bad for her.
“I talked it over with Bucky. Told him about how much I wanted a baby, a little mini version of him or I, and he was on board. Said he wished I told him sooner.” She chuckles, shaking her head fondly at the memory.
“That’s when I left for that while, remember?” You nod.
She missed Christmas and you were only slightly devastated at having to spend the holiday alone.
“I got the procedure done. Was on bed rest for a while after and even after I was given a clean bill of health I... I didn’t want to try. I was too nervous. Afraid that it wouldn't work but more afraid that it would.”
She takes a deep breath, her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she recounts the events that occurred leading up to your abduction. Her betrayal.
“It uh... it took three months but we conceived. I was finally pregnant.” She smiles a tearful, wet smile at you and your own eyes prickle with tears as you realize that her story won’t have a happy ending.
Your mind immediately goes to the worst things you can think of, ranging from miscarriage to murder, and you find yourself wanting to call Sarah down away from her father.
“I was ecstatic, (Y/n). I was so fucking happy.” Her eyes are filled with a type of sorrow that you’re far too familiar with. One you’ve felt too much in your short life.
“I told my shrink about it, told him how happy I was. Bucky and I cried together when we found out cause... we were finally gonna be parents. That’s around the time when I started coming by more often. What, sic months ago? Yeah, right around then. I uh, I wanted to wait until I was showing more to tell you, but...” She trails off, her face falling even more and tears trailing down her cheeks.
“That’s around the same time when Bucky started seeing Steve more. Spent less and less time at home with me and more time with Steve. I uh, got a call one day from his therapist, asking if everything was okay because she hadn’t seen him in weeks. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right. We hadn’t spoken to Steve since the cabin incident and then Bucky was spending every waking moment with him.”
She stops speaking, her fingers trembling and her bottom lip wobbling.
“What happened to the baby?” You ask softly, needing to know who hurt her, who caused it.
She exhales deeply and slowly opens her eyes.
“I uh, I guess Bucky must’ve told him. And uh... if Steve can’t have his happily ever after then no one can.”
My heart drops into my stomach.
“What did he do?”
She doesn’t answer right away. No, instead she picks at her fingers for a long moment.
“Did you know... that drinking certain teas can cause a miscarriage? Because I didn’t.” You furrow your brows, trying to figure out what she means until it dawns on you.
“He made you drink it?” You’re not sure which ‘he’ you’re talking about, but you know it must’ve been at least one, if not both of them.
“The last time I uh, set foot in this house before that dinner we had together... he invited us over for drinks and to watch the game. He made me some tea and asked me why I thought it was okay to keep secrets from him. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time but... that hardly matters. A few days later I started bleeding. A lot. I was in the infirmary for days on end only to find out that he’d poisoned my baby.”
She sniffles again and wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“After that, he didn’t trust me, only trusted Bucky. Went to my therapist and took his notes, beat answers out of him when he refused to speak. I’m assuming they bugged me o-or something. Or followed my licence plate, searched through my history to figure it out."
Her candy apple green eyes meet yours, vibrant and staring directly into your soul with passion and fire rivalling that of a forest fire.
“I never breathed a single word of you or Sarah to anyone. Steve figured it out on his own, after almost killing my therapist, and killing my baby. I never said anything, I swear. On the life of my child, I didn’t say a thing.”
Your breaths come in shallow bursts, anxiety spiking as you shake your head.
“I-I don’t...” She puts a gentle hand on your shoulder and nods, guiding you towards the couch.
“I’m sorry. But that’s... that’s the truth. Steve is a monster, and he’s got Bucky following him mindlessly. I don’t... I don’t know what to do or who to turn to.”
You open your mouth to speak, but the sound of feet trudging down the stairs cuts you off.
“Everything alright down here?” Steve asks, reaching for his glass of lemonade but pausing when he sees the look of distress on your face.
His eyes flutter between you and Nat before he takes a seat beside you, grabbing your hand gently in his.
“Honey? You okay?”
You shake your head, trying to rid it of the overwhelming thoughts.
“Mommy?” The three of you look up as Sarah bounds down the stairs, climbing into your lap.
“Where’s my juice?” You pick her up and rest her on your hip as you stand up, walking into the kitchen to grab her cup of juice and distance yourself from the people on the couch.
Bucky comes down the stairs next, confused and wondering where everyone went.
His eyes find Natasha’s first, the poorly masked sorrow colouring her features, and his heart aches.
Sarah drinks her lemonade quickly, making a loud ‘ahh’ sound once she’s devoured the last drop.
“Can we have pizza for dinner?” She asks eagerly, looking up at you with big blue eyes.
You swallow hard then nod, your eyes slowly raising to Steve’s as he walks over to you.
“Pizza?” You ask softly, turning back to your daughter when he nods.
“Of course.” She squeals excitedly, wrapping her arms around your neck and hugging you tightly.
You hug her closer to your body, burying your face in her hair as a tear slips down your cheek.
You knew he was a bad man, but you never thought he’d hurt a child. That would’ve been his niece or nephew, a friend for Sarah and your new baby. But no, he decided that Natasha didn’t deserve her happy ending, neither did Bucky.
Natasha is one of the few friends you’ve ever had, and the fact that he’d hurt her that way, kill off her one dream, is disgusting.
It makes you wonder what he’ll do to you, or even Sarah.
You thought hurting kids was something Steve would never do, but now you’re not so sure.
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puppypeter · 3 years
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✨ All fics are complete! ✨
He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱
He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.
Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?
“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”
OR
the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.
Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳
Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.
Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.
The rest is, as they say, history.
You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳
“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”
Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯
He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.
Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.
Taxi | 5113 words 🚕
Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.
He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.
Enough said.
Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️
“So talk to him,” Sam says.
“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”
“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."
(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)
Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️
When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…
Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻
“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”
While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.
"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."
“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”
“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”
Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️
After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.
The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡
When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.
He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.
Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡
Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.
Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.
Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄
Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.
At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.
The Settler | 52203 words 🍞
“What do you want to do?”
Steve pauses and looks at them.
What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.
He doesn't want to leave that.
But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.
So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”
OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.
You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈
"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."
He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.
To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾
Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.
Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️
Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.
-----
Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.
“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.
Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️
Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?
-----
Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.
Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️
Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.
-----
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.
“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.
Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.
Sadly, they’re closer than they think.
The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕
Steve Rogers is fine.
After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.
From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.
The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕
"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."
After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.
One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕
Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.
Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒
You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.
But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.
Obvious | 917 words ☕
"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."
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tinyyoungblood · 3 years
Note
okay amazing here goes...so SOUR has been on repeat and your one-shot based on the album was super cute and just EVERYTHING 🥺 but also i was listening to 'traitor' the other day and the first line goes "brown guilty eyes and little white lies" and i just. the entire song puts me in the feels over a boyfriend i never had but anyway i was thinking what if...angst with peter parker!! maybe he's been more distant lately and lying about where he's been at nights or something? i'm not sure the world is your oyster!! thank you in advance💘 hehe
strangers with memories | peter parker
pairing: peter parker x reader
warnings: pure angst
a/n: “the world is your oyster” lol you’re so sweet <3 we don’t claim the peter parker in this fic because he knows better than this. enjoy x
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was nights like these that made you feel like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. The window was opened, leaving outside noise from the street to breeze in and blend in with the lo-fi beats playing quietly from Peter’s laptop.
Your legs were tangled under a soft blanket as Peter showed you outfit pictures from his Pinterest board, asking for your opinion. It simply made sense. The world felt at peace.
“No, I don’t think you understand. Orange and teal look really good together, see.” Peter turned his phone around to show you his screen. You squinted at the brightness, but once your eyes adjusted, you burst out laughing.
“Sure, if you want look like Perry the Platypus. Get that away from me.” You shoved his hand away and Peter grinned. He swiped to another picture with the same colours combination, and you shrieked. “Not the brown beanie! Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have a field day with this.”
Peter chuckled. He rose to his feet and tossed his phone next to you on the mattress. “I’m going to the bathroom”, he declared with an air of casualness that made you crack a smile. He was halfway through the doorway when he popped his head back in and asked, “You want anything?”
“From the bathroom?” You looked up from your phone.
Peter shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Uh-huh.”
You suppressed your smile. “I’m good, thanks.” He gave you another shrug and left the bathroom, whistling a tune you didn’t know.
Not a second later, Peter’s phone gave off a subtle ping. It wasn’t your intention to look, but reflexes made you glance at it from the corner of your eyes. You regretted it instantly. Your shoulders tensed. It was just a text message—nothing scandalous, but the contact name made your stomach drop.
MJ.
Her name popped up on Peter’s phone screen more often than not. You really didn’t want to be bothered. You knew they were only friends, but you could already see the broad smile edging his face as he read the message. You hated where your thoughts had taken you.
Peter trusted you and you wanted to trust him as well, desperately. You demanded yourself to take the high ground. It still felt stupid and your chest caved in just at the thought of Peter grinning at his phone. He barely even answered your texts anymore.
You could already hear the white lies he was going to feed you. But you felt yourself wanting to keep the white lies. At least, that meant getting to keep Peter. All you could do was swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath. The world still blurred around you.
“May asked if you’re in the mood for Thai food.” Your gaze shot to Peter���s. He was leaning against the door frame, arms folded over his chest with the same calm expression as before. Don’t ruin this. Keep the peace.
You forced a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t like Thai food.”
Peter frowned at that. “Since when? You’ve always liked it.” He appeared almost affronted before realisation crossed his face. “Oh wait, my bad, MJ liked it. We actually just had Thai food together the other night with Ned.” A private smile curled around his lips at the memory.
“Sounds nice,” you replied weakly. It was all you could say.
Peter didn’t seem to mind. He pushed himself off and strolled over, picking up his phone to see the texts he had just received. He chuckled softly at whatever he had been sent and punched in a reply.
You simply sat there, fiddling with the blanket that suddenly felt too hot. Say something, the voice inside your head demanded. Be exciting. Don’t make him lose interest. Your hands curled into a fist. You felt ridiculous.
“So about Friday night,” you began awkwardly, feeling suddenly very out of place although there was nobody else in the room. Peter’s eyes were bright with delight as he typed away on his phone.
“Hm?” He said, and you had a feeling it wasn’t because he wanted to you to go on. He just wasn’t sure if you had spoken at all.
Your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile. “Are you going to pick me up or should we just meet there?”
Peter’s eyebrows creased. “Meet you where?”
“At the movies,” you said curtly. “We wanted to watch that movie, remember? It was your idea.” The bite in your tone finally made Peter look up. It was like watching a slow car crash.
“Was it?” Peter mused, and you nodded stiffly.
“Oh.”
From somewhere on the street, you heard people arguing. Their sharp voices cut into the room and drilled themselves into your chest. Don’t let this be us. That isn’t us. We’re better than that. You fixed your eyes on the curve of Peter’s neck, concentrating on his breathing to feel like he wasn’t drifting away. In reality, you knew that the ship was already leaving the harbour and there was nothing you could do.
“Sorry,” Peter finally said, lips pursed. “I kind of already made plans with MJ. Her uncle has this cool train collection that she wanted to show me. She told me about it at lunch today and I’m really excited. It’s pretty awesome.”
Your face dropped and he had the good sense to add, “But we can always catch the movie on Monday night if you want.”
“Why not on the weekend?” A part of you dreaded to hear the answer.
Peter didn’t hesitate as he waved you off. “Ned and I wanted to get started on that new Lego set I told you about.” You had no recollection of that. Peter’s eyes flickered to you before another text message came in, demanding his full attention. The sound made you feel nauseous. The ship was a dot now, fading into the horizon while you were still stranded.
“You can join us if you want,” Peter offered with eyes glued to his phone. “MJ is going to bring Thai food, I think.”
You didn’t bother to reply. You felt claustrophobic. Pushing yourself off his bed, you headed for the window. It was already opened by a crack, but you needed fresh air. It was almost overwhelming when you stepped over the window sill and let yourself out onto the fire escape. The stairs screeched but you didn’t care for the noise. What you needed was proof that there was more out there.
The railing was cold as you wrapped your hands around them. Each window across the street was alit in numerous colours. Silhouettes moved in those colours—people with their own lives and sorrows. The world continued to live.
You settled on one of the stairs and stared up at the night sky. No stars, nothing. You were really stuck at the harbour. Peter’s room was glowing in purple thanks to the LED strips you had set up together a few weeks ago. He had bought old vinyl records and you spent the entire night rating them until sunlight pooled in through the curtains. It all felt like a pipe dream now.
You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting outside by yourself. All you knew were the colour blocks of windows, shifting in and out of blurriness. You had been too busy watching the ship sail away that you only now realised how much you had starved yourself. One good night wasn’t going to change that. Your mind was just really good at leaving out the bad parts.
“Here you are.” Peter’s voice caught you off guard. You turned away, wiping your tearstained cheeks hastily as he watched you with knitted brows. “I just came to tell you that I invited Ned and MJ over. I hope that’s fine.”
When you didn’t reply, Peter stepped out and sat on the window sill. “You okay?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Do I look okay to you?”
“Well,” he said, “You’ve been acting weird all week, so…I’m not sure”
“I have been acting weird?” You echoed.
Peter hesitated but lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, but you’re always smiling, so I just assume you’re all right.”
“You can’t be serious,” you said bitterly, tucking your hands under your thighs to stop them from shaking. “Just look what we’ve become. You can’t even tell anymore if I’m putting on a fake smile.”
“What are you talking about?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Oh, you know.” You waved your hand at nothing. “Air pollution, climate change, everything and nothing these days. But you wouldn’t know, would you.”
“Y/N,” Peter said with an edge to his voice. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”
You hadn’t realised that you had started pacing until his question made you halt and whip around. There was acid in your tone as you snapped, “Don’t you miss me at all?”
“What?” Peter looked stumped. “We see each other every day at school. You’re literally standing in front of me right now.”
You scoffed and sat back down on the stairs. “Love really does make people blind,” you murmured and stared at the sky. Maybe it was going to rain.
Peter exhaled sharply and knelt before you, lowering your chin to look you in the eye. He thought he could find an answer in them, but you knew that if he’d been blind to it all this time, he wasn’t going to see it now. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, and your chest ached.
You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I want you. That’s all I wanted.”
“Wanted? You have me.” Peter pressed his lips together. “You have me right now, Y/N.”
“I don’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “MJ has you. She’s had you for a while now, and I’m just here watching you both from afar.”
Peter opened his mouth, most likely wanting to deny it, but no sounds came out. He simply stared and stared and stared. Your heart was racing. There was no way back, so you went on, “I don’t care if you’re just friends. I really don’t care, because it hurts just as much knowing that I still let you treat me like that. I miss you and you’re sitting right in front of me. And you know what the worst part is?”
Memories flooded your mind, bricking you like thorns. You devoured them, hungrily, because you were used to living on crumbs. Peter holding you in his arms. Peter looking tenderly after your wounds and kissing your tears. Peter turning sorrow into bliss until you were drunk on laughter and the sky was dusted in stars.
A sad smile hung to your lips. “I still think the world of you. All those nights when I had prayed for someone like you. Someone who could be my safe person and I could be theirs—I thought I had that with you.”
“You do,” Peter hissed, and at once you wondered where he found the strength to believe his own lies. He sighed. “I promise you, you did. It’s just…” Your throat went dry as he bit his tongue. “It’s not something you can control, okay? Maybe you’re just not my only safe person anymore. It’s…it’s not a big deal.” Peter’s gaze dropped as your breath caught.
You were glad you were sitting. There was no doubt that your knees would’ve given out otherwise. His confession felt like a punch to the gut. That small, pathetic voice inside your head screamed and trashed, denying everything he’d just said. A part of you was always so hopeful—Peter used to love that about you.
Remember, it tried to reason, he promised he would never hurt you. Remember how it felt to have his arms around you. It couldn’t have been a lie. None of it could’ve been a lie. You squeezed your eyes shut.
“You’re not actually sorry,” you heard yourself say. “You’re just saying that to feel good about yourself. If you were sorry, you would’ve never made all those promises—” You didn’t have it in yourself to continue. No words would’ve done you justice anyway. “If you’re just going to keep hurting me, then leave me alone.”
Something dark flared in his brown eyes. “Leave you alone?” asked Peter incredulously. “This is stupid and you know it. All of this, just because I’m friends with MJ. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous? We’re just friends. There’s no reason for you to get paranoid.”
“I’m being paranoid now?” Your eyes narrowed.
“That’s what I would call it, yes.”
“Then tell me this.” You jumped to your feet. “Last week, when Mr. Harrison took points off my assignment because I supposedly handed it in too late, why didn’t you speak up for me? You were there, you knew I handed it in time. All I needed was for you to tell him the truth, but you didn’t say a damn thing. Now I’m failing that class, and you know why this is the first time you’re hearing about this?”
Peter remained silent, but his eyes flickered, and the crease between his brows was evidence enough.
“Because you were too distracted giggling with MJ in the back. You didn’t even notice when I stormed out of that room, so don’t lie to yourself, Peter. You haven’t been by my side in a while now.”
You shook your head when Peter averted his gaze. Of course, he had nothing to say. Both of you knew it wasn’t just about that class. It was about the missed calls, the empty words, and all the times he had stood you up and let you down. At least he respected you enough to not deny it. No more white lies.
“See, this is the thing,” you began, swinging your leg over the window sill to step inside the room. You faced Peter and waited until his gaze drifted to yours. “You gave me your word and I was stupid enough to believe you. I trusted you. It was supposed to be you and me against the world, but you sat back and watched it beat me down because you were too busy falling in love with somebody else.”
Peter’s expression shifted and you turned your back to him. Seeing his frustration replaced by realisation was something you knew you couldn’t stomach.
So you made to leave. It was only when you were halfway through the room that you recognised the feeling simmering in your gut as something a bit different than resentment. You looked back over your shoulder, eyebrows lowered, and struggled to find your voice.
“Peter?”
It was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He tore his gaze from the floor and looked at you. Wild storms were trapped in his eyes, an ocean rising. It was devasting to look at.
But it was then that you realised, that although Peter had never cheated on you, his brown guilty eyes still made him a traitor. You took a deep breath.
“Just don’t treat her how you treated me,” was all you said. And with that, you were gone.
* * *
i’d really appreciate if you left some feedback since i barely ever write angst and want to know what you think:) stay hydrated guys
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fairyaali · 3 years
Note
hello! I was wondering if I could request a kinda spicy kinda not spicy chat noir x reader fic? It can literally be about anything you want. Please and ty❤️❤️
AHHH I’M SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT I FINALLY WROTE IT !  Thank you for the submission anon! <333 i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you enjoy it! 
Ship: Chat Noir x Reader 
Warnings! : SEMI-NSFW, all characters are aged up here!, swearing!
Tags: enemies to lovers?? ;))
“merde.”
That was the first word you hear that caused you to open your eyes. Your head was hurting and your whole body ached. You rubbed your eyes and sat up on the cold floor beneath you.
You saw Chat Noir sitting, slumped in front of you with his head resting back against the wall.
Great he was here too. You guys didn’t really get along, mostly because he tried to flirt with you on the first day he saw you and you didn’t want to put up with his shit because you knew he did that to every girl he saw. You both started growing pissy with each other since that day.                                                                                                       now you were stuck with him in this dark, humid room.
where were you guys? most importantly what happened that got you both here? you furrow your eyebrows as you try to recall what happened. All you can remember was Ladybug giving you the bat miraculous to fight along side them again. Then you went near the Louvre where the villain was and both you and Chat Noir made a run towards him. that’s all you could remember.
“You’re finally awake.” You hear him croak.
You snap out of your thoughts and look at him. His blond hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and his chest was moving up and down with every deep break he took. He looked hot. wait, what no he didn’t why are you thinking that? “what happened?” You ask him. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of him and your body felt warm. Too warm.
“the villain knocked us out with his power and Lady locked us up in this room until she changes everything back to normal.” He says and slides a note to you. You grab the note and begin to read it.
Hi guys. You were both hit by the villain and got knocked out. I had to put you both in this room and lock you in here until I change everything. Don’t worry Rena is here to help me. Whatever you do, don’t give in to certain thoughts and fight against urges. -Ladybug.
You furrow your eyebrows. fight against urges? What power did this villain have?
“I don’t know why she’s keeping us locked in here, I mean, I’m awake now so everything must be fine,right?” You say as you get up from the floor and walk to the door. You feel a hand grab yours and turn around to see Chat Noir in front of you. His cheeks were a deep crimson colour. “Not so fast, bat.” He whispers. “His power wasn’t just to knock us out.” He says.
You look down, your eyes fixated on his body. Your body starts burning you. why the fuck was it so hot in there?
“T-Then what is it?” You ask, looking up at him again and noticing how big his pupils have become.
“Hawkmoth gave him to power to make people uncontrollably aroused.” He states, looking down at your lips. oh.
This is what ladybug meant by fighting your urges.
You instantly pull back from him and scoff.
“as if, I’d ever be aroused at the sight of you.” You say and cross your arms over your chest, turning around and giving your back to him. You were lying, you knew that every time you looked at him you could feel your body burning and aching for his touch.
You gulp and sit back down where you were, trying your best not to look at him.
“Yeah because it’s not like you want to rip all my clothes off and suck me dry whenever you look at me, it’s just cause you hate me right?” He says, chuckling dryly.
You instantly feel your cheeks heat up at his words and your legs close together. fight the urge. fight the urge. fight the urge. that’s what you kept telling yourself but god you needed some type of release so bad.
“What is it now, Chat got your tongue?” You hear him whisper in your ear and your head instantly turns to face him.
How did he get there?
Your faces were inches apart. Your lips were both parted, your cheeks both red and your breathing increased with every passing second that you stared down at his pink lips. They were a deep shade of pink, mostly because he was biting them so much because of the frustration. You look down at his body again, the bulge in his suit was evident and it made you rub your thighs together even more. You knew he wanted it as bad as you.
But why him? You hoped that when Ladybug reverted the damage done by the villain, you wouldn’t remember this at all. But maybe the attraction to him was always there.
But you never wanted it this bad before in your life.
Fucking akuma.
Your body moves without you realizing and you end up straddling him, catching him off guard. His hands move to your thighs for support and you swear that it took everything you had in you to repress the moan you wanted to let out simply because he touched your body.
“Shut up, kitty.” You say, your noses touching and your hand running through his hair.
You felt vibrations emerging from his chest as he rolled his eyes back. He was purring.
Holy shit. You wanted to remember this moment just to be able to tease him afterwards. You couldn’t take it anymore. This stupid teasing. Ladybug’s voice started speaking in the back of your head.
Don’t give in to certain thoughts.
It’s your fault for locking us up In here together Ladybug so, fuck you.
You move closer to his face and lick his lips gently and slowly.
You feel his grip on your thighs tighten.
“Holy shit, we can’t do this.” He breathes out while you start kissing down his jaw.
“why not kitty?” you mumble against his skin.
“Because I don’t think I want to forget it.”
“Maybe we wont.” You whisper and look up at him with half lidded eyes.
And with that, he crashes his lips onto yours.
It was pure bliss.
Just what you needed. Just what your body was aching for.
Okay, maybe your body did want more but this was something that gave you that hint of satisfaction.
Your lips moved in sync and your hands wouldn’t stop running through his hair.
Your bodies started moving together, both eager to get any type of friction, any type of satisfaction. God you needed him so bad that it was painful.
The room was filled with lewd noises you made while you kissed and small grunts and moans that escaped your lips.
You wanted more and at this point you couldn’t think straight anymore.
A hand moved from his hair down to his shoulder. You gripped it a bit for support before making your way to the bell on his neck. You fiddled with his bell before you noticed something behind it. A zipper. Jackpot.
You felt his teeth bite your lower lip and you let out a soft whimper. You gripped the zipper and began to slowly pull it down.
You froze when you felt a gust of wind overcome you.
A surge of pain went through your head and you shut your eyes. you opened your eyes again and realized that you were on top of Chat Noir.
What the fuck? You fell on your ass and rubbed your head. “What the hell happened?” He asks scratching his head.
You were about to respond until you hear footsteps and the door unlocking to reveal Ladybug and Rena Rouge 
“Are you guys ok-“ She stops and looks at both of you, her eyes wide.
You furrow your eyebrows and look at Chat who has his hair disheveled and his lips red. Little red marks were peppered from his jaw, down to his neck and then it hit you like a truck.
Holy shit.
“Oh my god do you think they-?” Rena didn’t finish her sentence and started chuckling.
“we what?” Chat asked, confusion filling his voice.
Ladybug shook her head and laughed nervously. “Nothing, the villain knocked both of you guys out and we put you here for your safety.” She says and grabs the sticky note from the floor, crumbling it in her hand.
“You guys don’t remember anything right?” Rena asks, smirking.
Chat shakes his head and gets up.
But you did remember everything.
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kuroopaisen · 3 years
Text
after hours || kuroo tetsurou
➵ a late night study session might just end with kuroo having a heart attack over how stupidly cute you are. 
wc: 3.1k
warnings: f!reader, i guess it’s implied she’s short?, kuroo’s Dumb, i can’t stop thinking about the in-between someone get my own story out of my head please
a/n: hi i wrote this on a whim and for some reason it’s 3k i’m gonna yartz,,, kuroo brainrot let’s go! but thank you ren for beta’ing it yet again :( 
the in-between m.list
“But I’m tired,” you whine, plopping your face cheek-first onto your textbook.
“We’re all tired,” Kuroo goads, shaking his head. “Come on. The more we do now, the less we have to worry about later.”
“I know,” you whine. “You don’t need to keep reminding me.”
“I wouldn’t have to remind you if you just did your work,” he grins. “We know for a fact that leaving things to the last minute makes you really stressed.”
“Maybe I work best under pressure,” you mumble. “Ever considered that?”
“I have,” he smiles. “Now you tell me: is it worth the nervous breakdown?”
“You’re cruel and I hate you.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you mutter.
“I think someone’s trying to procrastinate,” he chuckles, reaching over to ruffle your hair.
“It’s late,” you groan. “I’m tired.”
“You’ve made that very clear,” he grins.
You lift your head off the textbook, glare-pouting at him. Your attempts to look intimidating rarely succeed, and this is no exception. 
Kuroo can’t hold back his fond smile.
You look exhausted.
Your eyes are a little blearier than usual, shot through with red. Your hair’s a bit of a mess – not that you’ve really made an effort with it anyway – and you’ve got that dull pallor that seems to befall everyone deficient of adequate sleep.
Maybe ten forty-six in the evening was a bit late to be starting homework. And unfortunately for you, the focus for this evening is maths and chemistry.
Of course, Kuroo’s adamant that he tried to get started earlier.
(He didn’t think that the two of you would end up wasting so much of the afternoon just watching Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but when he’d checked the time, he’d tried to move onto studying.
You, on the other hand, had other ideas.
“Just one more episode.”
“No,” he shook his head. “We’ve got work to do.”
“But we can’t stop here,” you whined. “I wanna know what happens.”
“We’ve got to study,” he’d replied, firm and strict and resolute.
But when you’d grabbed his arm and pouted up at him, saying “Please, Tetsu?”, his resolve toppled in on itself like a poorly constructed engineering assignment made of straws.)
“Hey,” he sighs, patting you on the back. “Let’s just try to get this chapter done tonight, okay? That’s all.”
“Okay,” you mumble.
He knows it’s a bit unfair; the chapter in question is a rather long one, with far more activities in it than the average. But he trusts you to understand what needs to be done – he wouldn’t be putting you through this if it wasn’t so relevant.
He wants you to succeed. He really does. And you both know just how hard he’s been working to help you get to where you need to be.
Time and time again, you apologise for taking up so much of his time, for asking so much of him. He always smiles, saying that it’s actually good practice for him, too – and, of course, you’re managing the volleyball team.
He insists it’s a two-way street.
Not that it matters. He knows that he’d still do this for you, even if he gets nothing out of it.
He finds it too hard to say no to you, after all.
Kuroo jumps as a solid three-rap knock rattles his door.
“Are you still up, Tetsu dear?” His grandmother’s voice sounds far too amused for his liking.
“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, getting out of his chair and opening the door.
His grandmother stands in front of him, dressed in her purple silk pyjamas.
(They’re a recent birthday present that you’d chipped in a bit of money for, even though Kuroo had told you it was fine – you didn’t need to.
You’d just smiled and told him that you wanted to say a little thank you for how kind she’d been to you.
He remembers that his heart skipped a little at your smile.)
“Goodness, Tetsu, I keep forgetting just how tall you are,” his grandmother chuckles, craning her neck to get a good look at his face.
“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Kuroo grins.
“Don’t even joke about that, my boy,” she laughs, shaking her head. “That’s a very real possibility at my age.”
She pokes her head through the doorway, catching sight of you slouched in your chair.
“You look exhausted, dear,” she smiles, tilting her head at you.
“I am,” you whine, stretching your arms over the desk. “Your grandson is a tyrant.”
“Perhaps you and Kenma should stage a coup,” she suggests, eyes twinkling. “Dethrone this despot king and free yourselves from his incessant nagging.”
“I don’t nag!”
“Oh, is that so?” her smile widens. “‘Oh, don’t forget to drink this whole bottle, Obaa-chan. It’s important to keep your fluids up – especially at your age,’” she coos, dropping her voice an octave or so in her best attempt to replicate Kuroo’s tone. “‘Oh, Obaa-chan, come take a walk with me! You’ve been sitting in front of the TV too long. Let’s get those old bones moving.’”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kuroo grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, “we get the picture.”
“‘Obaa-chan! You shouldn’t be up this late! You don’t wanna wear yourself out!’” She continues, cracking a grin.
“Okay, okay!” Kuroo grouches, a sour look on his face. “Point taken!”
“I’m just teasing,” she grins. “Goodnight, Tetsu. And goodnight, dear! Don’t let him boss you around!”
“Yes ma’am!” You bark cheerfully.
She chuckles, shaking her head. But she says nothing more, ambling out the door.
Kuroo sighs.
If anything, he’s just glad she didn’t poke fun at him for having a girl in his room. Though he’s well-aware he should be grateful for the fact that he's trusted enough to not have his family snooping on him every five minutes.
Besides, being alone together in a room doesn’t mean anything. Even if…
He swallows roughly, forcing his mind to go blank.
No space for unsavoury thoughts here. None at all.
He shuts the door with a firm slam, turning back to you with his best poker face.
“So,” he hums, ambling back over to you and glancing at the textbook laid out on the desk. “What do you want to focus on?”
“Well, I think it’s time for us to talk about Pride’s true identity—”
Kuroo tsks, shaking his head. “We’ve had enough Brotherhood for one evening.”
You whine, slouching back in your chair. “Just one more episode?”
“No,” he laughs. “If we keep putting this off, we’re just going to have more to stress about later.”
“Fine,” you sigh, sticking your tongue out at him. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m starting to think hiring you on as manager was a mistake,” he grins.
“Excuse me?” You gasp, affronted.
“You’re supposed to be responsible,” he chuckles. “You know – able to make good choices and all that.”
“I do make good choices,” you glare at him. “I just hate any and everything to do with maths.”
Kuroo snorts. To be fair, he’s had the sneaking suspicion that you might be much better at chemistry if it didn’t involve so much mathematics.
“Besides,” you huff, crossing your arms, “the first years would riot.”
“You mean Lev would riot.”
“I’m sure Inuoka would stick up for me,” you say. “And you don’t want to make Shibayama sad, do you?”
“I didn’t say anything about kicking you out,” Kuroo grins, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I know,” you hum. “Just making sure you’re aware.”
Kuroo rolls his eyes playfully, flicking your forehead. “Whatever.”
The two of you settle down after that, returning to your blasted enemy.
You do fairly well, all things considered. Your focus is a bit off, but you make a good effort. And, like always, you manage to understand Kuroo’s layman explanations of things.
Of course, the two of you can’t help yourself – your study is punctuated by straying conversations that last a little longer than they should (Kuroo’s a big believer in the fifteen-five-fifteen study method, but sometimes there’s simply too much to say; a mere five minutes doesn’t cover it). Sometimes you simply demand to see Inu-chan, not budging until you’d given the Akita a good pat.
But tonight, even Kuroo tires quickly. He figures it’s probably because you started so late; something he promises himself he’ll never let happen again. Although, he’s not willing to bet money on it.
“Alright, I’m gonna go get a drink,” he sighs, stretching his arms above his head as he stands up. His interlaced fingers almost brush the ceiling. “Did you want anything?”
“I’m okay, thanks,” you sigh, putting your pencil down.
You’ve got that look on your face. The one you get when you’re faced with a particularly confusing equation or a concept you need a bit of time to wrap your head around. Kuroo knows it well; it’s usually soon followed by a quiet confession of worry and doubt.
“Hey,” he murmurs, reaching out a hand and ruffling your hair gently. “You’re doing better than you think you are.”
He wishes he could do more for you, wishes he could kick those awful feelings out of your brain. But there’s not much more he can do than this.  
You look up at him with wide eyes. Your features look so gentle in the light of his desk lamp, the shadows soft and diffused. You look fond.
Kuroo tries to ignore it.
“You think so?” You pout.        
“Would I lie?” He chuckles.
You peer at him closely for a moment, leaning close.
Too close.
Close enough for him to make out the intricacies of your eye colour. Close enough that he’s sure you can feel just how hot his face has become. Close enough for his mind to wander to a place it really shouldn’t.
He stands up sharply before he’s even processed what’s going on.
“I’m, uh…” He clears his throat roughly, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. “I’m gonna go get some water.”
“Okay!” You nod, smiling sweetly at him.
He doesn’t let himself linger, rushing off to the kitchen and pouring himself a tall glass of water.
He gulps the whole thing down at breakneck speed. His punishment for such hastiness is a hiccup that lurches his whole chest. Well, at least it shifted whatever weird feeling was there before.
What time is it?
He turns to the clock on the kitchen wall.
His eyes blow wide.
Twelve thirty-six. Oh, shit. He ponders, for a moment, if the clock is a few hours fast.
With a little nugget of guilt in his chest, he rushes back upstairs to his bedroom.
He opens the door slowly, not wanting to disturb the house. He slips through just as quietly, turning to say something to you.
You're lying on the desk again. But this time, your head is laid on crossed arms, your back rising and falling gently with each breath.
Kuroo’s heart feels like it might damn well shatter.
His first instinct is to pick you up and put you on his bed.
His first coherent thought is ‘what the fuck, dude?’.
He slinks towards you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. He flushes at the contact.
What are you, twelve? He chastises himself. You’ve touched each other plenty of times before.
He immediately regrets that phrasing.
“Hey,” he murmurs, shaking your shoulder slightly. “Wake up.”
You’re motionless.
“Hey,” Kuroo whines.
“Hm?” You croak, stirring a little.
Kuroo draws back.
You lift your head and blink at him through bleary eyes.
Holy shit, he thinks. Holy fucking shit.
“It’s past midnight,” he says, ruffling your hair on instinct. Why he made the effort to yet again make physical contact with you, he doesn’t know. It’s a terrible idea, really.
“Ew,” you frown. “No.”
Kuroo shoves both his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. There’s no risk of him doing something stupid if he does that, right?
You’re staring at your phone, your eyebrows drawn together and your lips pursed.
He knows that look.
It’s the one you always pull when he (reluctantly) calls an end to whatever you’re doing before walking you home in the evening. And he doesn’t miss how you stick a little closer to him when it’s dark, or how you always seem to glance over your shoulder at each and every peculiar sound. And he certainly doesn’t miss how you ask him to text you to let you know he’s gotten home safe.  
You don’t need to tell him that you don’t want to walk all that way in the dark.
“Do you just want to stay here tonight?” He asks. He loathes himself for the weird fuzziness that churns in his gut.
You pout at him. He’s seen that face enough times to know that it means ‘please.’
“Wait here,” he smiles.
He hurries to the laundry area, rifling through his grandmother’s pile of clean clothing. There’s no way he’s going to let you sleep in your school uniform; it can’t be comfortable, and the fabric doesn’t seem breathable.
He goes through the pile once. Twice. Three times.
Nothing. There’s nothing he can lend you for the evening.
“Shit,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. Surely there must be—
Oh no. Oh no.
He catches sight of a plain black shirt sitting atop his pile of clean clothes. His face suddenly feels very, very hot.
It’s fine, he thinks. It’s not a big deal. My heart is not racing at the thought of her wearing one of my clothes. It’s not.
He grabs the shirt with a certain boyish carelessness, as if to prove to himself that he’s not losing his mind.
Sure, the blurry image of you wearing one of his shirts keeps trying to barge its way to the forefront of his mind, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s just a teenage boy thing.
He stalks back to his room with the whisper of a scowl on his face. Man, he needs to go to sleep.
As he opens the door, he catches sight of you mid-stretch. Your face is screwed up like a cat’s, nose scrunched up and eyes screwed shut.
But you’re cute. How is that cute? Why is that expression so endearing?
I’m delirious, he surmises. Probably because it’s so late.
He holds the shirt out to you with a stiff arm. “Here.”
Would you find it weird, him giving you one of his own shirts to sleep in? Would you think he’s being creepy?
You just nod as you take it from him, holding it to your chest with two hands like it’s a blanket.
Ah. So he’s overthinking it. Like an idiot.
“Did you let your family know?” He asks, trying to distract himself from his own fraying thoughts.
You nod. “I called them.”
“And they’re… fine with it?” His eyes widen slightly. Their daughter, staying over a night at a boy’s house…
“They were more angry at me for waking them up,” you pout. “But they didn’t have any problems with it.”
Kuroo’s heart swells. He’s trusted – your parents don’t mind this little arrangement. He’s not quite sure why he’s so proud, but he lets himself bask in it.
“Hey, Tetsu?”
“Hm?”
“Could I please have some water?” You mumble, rubbing one of your eyes with your knuckles.
He dashes out of the room a little quicker than he usually would – almost like his body had moved on instinct to fulfil your request.
By the time he gets back to his room, you’ve finished changing.
Kuroo’s certain he’s going to explode.
His shirt is so big on you – it’s already a bit roomy on him – grazing your lower thighs and giving him the overwhelming desire to wrap his arms around you. Your eyes are half-lidded, your cheeks puffed out a little, your hair all messy and unkempt. You look so sleepy, so cute, so—
He thrusts the glass of water towards you, cringing as the liquid sloshes dangerously close to the lip of the cup.
“Thank you,” you smile, your face lighting up as you take it from you.
Kuroo doesn’t fail to notice how your fingers brush against his as you do so.
God, he really needs to get some sleep.
“You stay in here,” he swallows, gesturing to his room.
You blink at him for a moment before realising what he means. “Wait, really?”
He nods. “I’ll just sleep on the couch.”
“No—” You’re pouting at him, misplaced guilt shining in your eyes.
“It’s fine,” Kuroo grins, ruffling your hair on reflex. He swears he zaps his fingers. “Now, you get some sleep.
“Fine,” you mumble, glare-pouting at him. “But you’ll… you’ll pay for this.”
“Will I now?” His grin broadens.
“I will,” you nod, comically resolute. “Wait, no—no, you will.”
Kuroo laughs, ruffling your hair again and reaching to—
Woah. Woah.
Where’d this sudden urge to kiss you on the forehead come from? That’s… weird.
He draws his hand back quickly. He can’t risk doing anything stupid.
“Now sleep,” he tuts, pointing you to the bed. “But don’t forget to drink your water.”
“I know,” you huff, turning around and scuttling towards the bed.
Kuroo turns around sharply, making a beeline for the door. If seeing you in his shirt was enough to make his brain go haywire, then seeing you in his bed…
He’s pretty sure he throws you a ‘good night’ before pulling the door to his room firmly shut, but he can’t be certain. He’s too busy taking a deep breath, trying to filter all the unsavoury and alarming thoughts out of his brain.
You’re his friend. He’s not supposed to want to kiss you on the forehead, to hold you in his arms. Hell, you’d probably think it was weird enough that he finds you so damn cute. And God, the thought of making you uncomfortable…
The guilt roots itself deep as he grabs himself some blankets and pillows from the laundry cupboard, dragging himself towards the couch.
He throws himself onto it face first, trying to ignore the burn running through his body. It feels like he’s on fire – and that pouty, sleepy expression of yours is scorched on the back of his eyelids.
This is normal, he reasons. He’s just a normal, hormonal teenager who likes girls. And you, a dear and beloved friend, just so happens to be a girl. This is unfortunate, but it’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything more. Right?
You’re just friends. Nothing weird going on here.
Besides, it’s not his fault. Anyone would’ve been endeared by what he’d seen tonight.
You’re just too damn cute.
Right?
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