i know lots of people get all hot and heavy for the 'rebel/bad influence who goes after the goody goody/nerd to corrupt them' but what about the reverse? what if the rebel was the one minding their own business when the goody goody suddenly started approaching them, asking them out, trying to get to know them. constant pestering and cute little quips that leave the rebel flustered (and a little flattered but don't tell the goody goody shhh).
just picture it. initially people think the rebel is the one giving the goody goody a hard time but instead the rebel's trying to avoid getting seen with the other a lot bc no you're too pure and sweet you're gonna ruin my punk rock image sTOP. but the goody goody just doesn't care about image or labels they just know that they want the rebel and dammit they're gonna get the rebel.
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will and nico are the perfect example of 'opposites attract'. im tired of reading shit like 'he was toxic and abusive and she was nice and helped him be a better person'. no sis, he needs to learn that himself. whereas with will and nico will is an optimistic and cheerful person while nico is more pessimistic but together they balance each other out. in other words, they are perfect and I love them
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Writing Romance: Opposites Attract
One of the most widespread among romantic tropes is opposites attract, and with good reason. When a couple are opposites, they’re meant to be one of a few things to each other:
1. An inverse reflection of each other.
2. Compliment each other
3. Cover each other’s shortcomings
In a sense, a good Opposites Attract serves to turn two incomplete people into one solid force. If they’re a battle couple, they’ll tend to fight very well together, often balancing force and finesse, melee and ranged, or physical and magical abilities. If the show or book has a lot of time dedicated to foils and character moments, they are more likely to be the ones that each other lean on, since their opposing characters makes them interesting to react off one another. Their roles, story arcs, and backstories tend to run opposite or parallel to one another depending on the series. If one character’s arc is to mature and become more responsible, likely their partner’s arc might be to learn to loosen up and have fun, learn to trust people, or to face a trauma in their past that made them so mature at a young age.
In terms of design, opposites attract partners tend to be inverse in color schemes. Light and dark hair or eyes, warm and cool color schemes, clashing or complimentary fashion styles, etc. The degree in opposition also varies. Some opposites attract look very similar with only a slight difference, indicating that something small is what set them on different paths in life but are otherwise very similar, almost as two sides of the same coin. Other couples are stark contrasts with virtually nothing in common to really emphasize their differences so that they can better make each other whole, as shown very literally through the character of Garnet in Steven Universe.
Femme and Butch
While typically, you’re mostly going to see this in femmeslash/yuri pairings, this dynamic is actually fairly universal. This divide focuses on a pairing where each couple reflects the values of masculinity and femininity. Although mostly used as lesbian terms, a femme and butch pairing can also be gay or heterosexual. A fashion-loving twink who cries during romantic movies dating a jock who likes sports and drinks beer is still an example of Femme and Butch. Heterosexual is rather obvious, but can also be inversed, with a tough, assertive woman partnered with a sweet, sensitive man, such as Calhoun and Felix in Wreck-It Ralph. A Femme and Butch pairing doesn’t need to check off every box on this list of traits, but these traits tend to be common in these types of relationships.
Brains and Brawn
Also known as Jock and Nerd, this romantic dynamic prioritizes the usefulness of both intelligence and brute strength. Another variation is Book Smarts vs Street Smarts. The Brains will be good at doing research, organizing, and will tend to fight more strategically while the Brawn is primarily going to be good at fighting and likely protecting the Brains from serious harm. Princess and Bodyguard is another possible example of this dynamic, albeit a little less directly.
Hot and Cold
Hot or Warm characters tend to be friendly, outgoing, upbeat, loudmouthed, temperamental, boisterous, and battle-ready. Cold or Cool personalities tend to be shy, calm, quiet, logical, reserved, serious, and emotionally withdrawn. However, while these extreme opposites of hot-head and cold-shoulder balance each other out, it’s worth discussing same heat relationships. Kiribaku is an example of a Hot/Warm relationship, as Bakugou Katsuki is an angry little spitfire with an aggressive streak, while Kirishima Eijirou is a happy-go-lucky sweetheart with a good attitude. This is sort of the same concept, just that both boys are on the warm side of the spectrum, with Kirishima being the cooler counter to Bakugou’s temperamental hot-head. This also works inversely, as the ship Tododeku is a Cold/Cool relationship. Midoriya is a shy, but upbeat young man who tends not to draw too much attention to himself, while Todoroki is stoic, logical, and a bit dense socially. In this case, Midoriya is Cool while Todoriki is Cold, with Midoriya serving as the “Hot” aspect of their relationship as the more friendly and outgoing of the two.
Light and Shadow
This archetype is often used as a “opposite sides of the same coin” format, where the characters serve as foils to one another. In Teen Titans, Raven’s powers are dark and demonic, while Starfire’s are bright and extraterrestrial. Both girls get their powers from their emotions, but where Starfire revels in her emotions to make her powerful, Raven must suppress her emotions to retain control of her powers. As the only two girls, they stick out as the obvious foils of the group. Many times, when this trope appears, it’s in the form of Classic Paragon Hero vs Cynical Anti-Hero. Superman and Batman are a great example. Superman is a boyscout token good guy, while Batman is a brooding loner. One is the hope for justice and goodness to always triumph while the other acknowledges that people are flawed, and maybe not everyone deserves to be saved. Naruto is interesting because he has two dark reflections. The first is Sasuke. While Naruto is the golden-haired idealist who befriends villains almost as often as Steven Universe, Sasuke is a dark counter consumed by a thirst for vengeance and the power to exact it. Naruto’s other dark counter however is Gaara. Both are Jinchuriki, but whereas Naruto eventually found friends and love in his fellow genin, Gaara was very much still alone when he met Naruto, reflecting what Naruto could have become without that love and support in this life.
Protagonist and Rival
Another case of “two sides of the same coin”, most anime protagonists and their rival tend to either have very similar backstories, very similar motivations, or very similar personalities, if not some combination of the three. Both Naruto and Sasuke were abandoned in the world at a young age with the Hokage looking out for them from afar. Naruto started off having nobody, and was always reaching out hoping to connect with anyone. Meanwhile, Sasuke started with a family and lost it, and decided to keep everyone at arm’s length and isolate himself further. Rin Okumura and Ryuji Suguro are practically the same person. Both lost their families and homes due to Satan, both are strong-willed loudmouthed tough guys with a knack for leadership, and both share the goal of killing Satan. Natsu Dragneel is immature and battle-ready, but while Grey Fullbuster at least pretends to be above it, he’ll jump into a fight with Natsu practically unprompted. The main appeal of the anime protagonist and his rival is that they push each other to succeed, often coming from very similar roots, but where they end up is entirely up to the effort they put in and the path they choose to take. They both refuse to lose to each other, and that propells them to constantly want to out-do each other.
Sweet and Sour
My best friend and I are polar opposites in this sense. When we met, she was far too trusting, submissive, and far too forgiving. Meanwhile, I was a lot more cynical, mean-spirited, and unfortunately, a little more closed-minded than I’d like to admit. After five years of friendship, my friend is far more assertive, has a lot more confidence in herself, is a lot better at handling criticism, and rather than just submitting in an argument, she now has the nerve to get in someone’s face and make her point heard. Because of her, I’ve become less stand-offish, more patient and polite, less of a control freak, more aware of valuing other people’s emotions, and more tolerant of a group I hadn’t realized I’d been intolerant toward. We saw the world in such distinctly different ways that we have managed to rub off on each other, and now we’re both such stronger and more complete people for having known each other.
Serious and Goofball
A classic comedy duo, the comedian and the straight man. The Goofball character tends to be immature, a knucklehead, a jokester, and comes off as a bit inexperienced. Meanwhile, the Serious character tends to be mature, responsible, disciplined, but comes off as a bit aloof. The Goofball reminds the Serious character to have a little fun every once in a while, while the Serious character reins in the Goofball before they hurt themselves or somebody else.
Hero and Sidekick
The hero has their act together and the sidekick is just doing their best. This happens a lot in Action movies where the handsome tough guy and the hapless damsel (who he kidnaps a little too often for my liking) is just kind of along for the ride. The two live in entirely different worlds. Sometimes this comes in the variant of Starlet and Manager where one in the relationship takes center stage while the other is content to help them run their life, promote their career, and help them. Another variation is Superstar and Random Extra, wherein one person leads a very visible life in the public eye being adored by millions of fans while their partner works 9-5 in an office dealing with insurance claims. Although they coe from very different worlds and lead very different lives, that doesn’t mean they still haven’t found love in an unlikely place. Often, the reason the hero or big shot loves this random nobody is because they fell in love with them before they ever became famous, or they didn’t know/care who the celebrity was and just liked them as a person without interest in using their celebrity to climb the social ladder.
Loud and Quiet
She’s quirky, outgoing, bubbly, energetic, and talkative. Too talkative. She never shuts up. He’s quiet, simple, down-to-earth, and calm. Too Calm. He never gets excited. This pairing works to push and pull each other until they’ve harmonized. The Quiet one will be pulled out of their shell and learn to be more open and talkative, while the Loud one will learn to think before they act. This couple is divided along lines of Introversion and Extroversion, and together can navigate the anxiety-triggering unease of a social gathering, and finding joy and pleasure in just enjoying each other’s company without needing to fill the silence with pointless chatter.
To be fair, many Opposites Attract couples will fit into more than one of these archetypes, and there’s probably more I didn’t list. But if you’re wanting to create a couple that balances each other out, I hope you find this helpful to you in your writing.
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"We hurt people that love us, love people that hurt us."
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In astrology each sign is paired with another sign directly opposite of it. Opposite signs of each other have the qualities they other one lacks.
Aries vs Libra
Aries is a very impulsive sign, they leap before they look and they very rarely stop to think if their actions could hurt somebody else. Opposite of them are Libra’s who overthink all situations. They are extremely indecisive, particularly due to their desire to make everybody happy in the end results.
Taurus vs Scorpio
Taurus are very straight forward signs. They aren’t known to get crazy emotional. They look for comfort and stability in their relationships. Opposite of them are Scorpio’s. Scorpios are deceptive as hell, they never let on what their true intentions are. They also have extremely intense emotions that they are not afraid to show to others.
Gemini vs Sagittarius
Gemini’s are all about their social image. They want to connect with everybody they meet and they want people to like them back. Opposite to them are Sagittarius who are more independent and focused on themselves. They would rather connect to nature and the world than with their friends.
Cancer vs Capricorn
Cancers are hopeless romantics, full of love and affection for others. Whether they like to or not, they let their emotions run wild. Opposite to them are Capricorns who are realists. They tend to suppress their emotions and focus work/goals instead of love.
Leo vs Aquarius
Leo’s are passionate to a fault. They have so much love in their hearts to give to others, but in return they obsess over their social image. Opposite to them are Aquarius who have a harder time showing thier emotions. They care more about their independence than romance or social images.
Virgo vs Pisces
Virgos are all about the facts of life. They’re realists, straight forward, and some what of perfectionists. Opposite to them are Pisces who always have their heads in the clouds. They’re the dreamers and believers. Pisces would rather go with the flow than control the situation.
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the difference between rans and holster’s breakfasts is inspiring
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Person A: *is the embodiment of darknes*
Person A: *hates everyone and everything*
Person A: *bathes in the blood of their enemies*
Person B: AREN’T THEY JUST THE CUTEST
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opposites attract au prompts
cat person and dog person meet at petco and their pets won't stop hissing and growling at each other au
a violinist who only plays classical music and a metal guitarist dislike each other's preferred genre but have to perform a duet au
rebellious teenager who's failing all their classes is assigned a studious tutor au
really distinguished food critic and fast food chef au
a hopeless romantic and a horny beast are set up on a blind date au
the class clown tries to get the pretentious, stoic know-it-all to laugh au
a morning person and a night person are assigned as roommates au
a film junkie who hates reading and a bookworm who never watches any movies run into each other between the movie and literature section of a library
a scary-looking person who unintentionally makes kids cry and a daycare volunteer meet at a children-filled park au
a pro swimmer/part time lifeguard and a sunbather who hates water, can't swim, and only goes to the beach to tan au
a hopeless romantic and a single-but-proud meet at a store on valentine's day. the latter is buying valentine cards ironically, the former buying them sincerely in hopes of getting a date au
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Summary: You and Shawn navigate your first year with your daughter Luna. [fluff] [punk shawn] [blurb from the fic Opposites Attract]
Word Count: 2k
|Masterlist In Bio|
Two months after your daughter Luna is born, Shawn has to take out his nipple piercing. Neither of you considered his piercings to be an issue until the day he was laying on the couch with Luna on his chest. She was tiny, squirmy and fussy. The only way she would relax was to lay on someone. Shawn had just heard that skin to skin contact is preferred by babies, so he pulled his shirt off and laid Luna on his chest in her diaper during a particularly bad fussing session. It was going great, until she started flexing her little hands over his chest hair and ended up sort of grabbing the little bar through his nipple.
The noise Shawn made scared Luna and she started screaming at the top of her lungs. It was chaos and it took half an hour between the two of you to calm down your little girl. After that Shawn decided to take the piercing out. As much as you loved it and as much as he did too, it was for the best.
At four months old little Luna was growing fast, and she loved kisses. Her favorite thing was when Shawn got home from work. He would pick her up out of her bouncer and smooch her cheek relentlessly.
It wasn't until she started grabbing for his face for more kisses following her daily smooching that his lip ring became a problem. The first time her little finger caught that ring and pulled Shawn took it out. He tried using the stud for a while like he had when she was first born, but it didn't matter. Luna already knew where to grab for that shiny little piece of metal. It was all over, two days into wearing the stud Shawn had to take it out. Luna tugged hard enough to make it bleed and that was what ended it.
It was at this point where you worried Shawn would be upset. His piercings were part of him, part of who he was. You didn't have to change anything about yourself for your daughter. It didn't seem fair and you had to talk to him about it.
"Shawn, can we talk?" You ask as he steps out of Luna's room and closes the door softly.
"It's about your piercings."
He nods. "Yeah, I'm probably going to have to take my eyebrow one out next." He touches the little silver bar on his left eyebrow he'd gotten right after you found out you were pregnant. "She's gonna find it soon."
"Are you upset about it?"
"About my piercings?"
"Yeah. I mean, they're important to you?"
Shawn chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist. "Honey, you think that I'm upset because I have to take them out for my baby girl's safety?"
"Well...I dunno." You look up and him and he kisses your nose. "I don't have to make any sacrifices like that for her."
"They're just piercings. Tiny holes in my skin. I can always get them back." He walks you back into the bedroom and smiles. "I would give up everything for our little girl. Things are temporary, she is not. She's the whole world and there is only one of her. A couple of piercings healing over is absolutely nothing."
You lay your head on his chest. Relief washes over you and you squeeze him tight. "I guess it was a silly thing to worry about."
He chuckles and kisses your head. "Just a little silly, but I'm glad you asked me. Now, let's get to bed before she wakes up, I have a feeling it's going to be one of those nights."
Six months old and Luna adores Shawn's tattoos. She's always liked them, been curious about them since it looked different than his other arm or your skin. But at six months she loves to sit in her little supportive baby pillow and rub up and down his arm.
If Shawn gets up, she must be carried with him. If Shawn sits on the wrong side where she can't touch him, he hears about it. She will babble aggressively and slap her support pillow until he changes seats. It's during one of her complaints against Shawn that she says her first words.
Your eyes go wide and you look over from your chair. "Did she say dada?"
"Did she? Are you sure? She wasn't just babbling?"
"Dada!" Luna shrieks, smacking her pillow. "Dada!"
"That's dada!" Shawn says, crawling off the couch and kneeling before Luna. "Dada?" He points at himself.
Luna reaches for his arm. "Dada...babalugah."
You stand up and look down at the two them. "I think she wants your arm."
Shawn rests his forearm across the front of Luna's pillow and she giggles and slaps it in delight. "Oh man, she is going to be a handful one day."
Luna leans forward and mouths at his skin while babbling and pinching at him.
"She already loves tattoos."
You shove Shawn's shoulder and he slumps against couch laughing. He thought he was so funny.
Nine months and Luna has started fully talking. In her own language of course, but there are some words in there like mama and dada. She's started to stand with the assistance of the couch and the ottoman. Her favorite game is to play peek a boo with you and Shawn and she has a love for her soft rattle ring like no other.
It's amazing, watching her grow like this, but you have to go back to work. Shawn was making great money since he took over the auto shop from the owner who taught him everything he knows. But you still had to work, to catch up on medical bills and save for Luna to go to school someday. The first thing no one tells you about having a kid is that they're expensive, like really, really expensive.
Going back to work meant sending Luna to daycare. You hate the idea and Shawn hates it more. He doesn't want anyone taking care of his little girl if it's not up to his standards and his standards are pretty high. The man spoils your daughter like crazy. Sending Luna to daycare also poses another problem, transportation. You have your car but Shawn still has his bike. You can't be the only one to take her to and from everything.
"What do you think of Jeeps?" Shawn asks one day over breakfast.
"They're nice." You feed Luna a bit of your scrambled eggs. "They can definitely haul more than my car."
Shawn's quiet. You look over and raise your eyebrows at him. "What?"
"Why are you asking about Jeeps?"
"I'm gonna trade in the bike."
"Shawn, no." You shake some yogurt bites on to Luna's highchair tray and turn to face Shawn completely. "You've had that since you were eighteen."
"But we have a baby now." He makes little grabby hands at Luna and she giggles as she smushes the yogurt bites into her mouth. "I can't take her on the bike."
"Keep it in the garage then. We can afford a car payment as soon as I start working."
"You're sure?" He rubs his neck and shoulder. "I don't want to put any more bills on us right now."
You reach across the table and take his hands. "I won't let you get rid of your bike. You've gotten rid of all of your piercings but your nose. And yes, I know they aren't a big deal to you, but if you sell your bike you will never get it back. Keep it."
Shawn smile and kisses your knuckles. "Casey is going to sell me his wife's Jeep if we want it. She's getting a minivan since their son just turned six and they have another on the way. It's in great condition and-"
"I trust you. If you think it's good, tell him we want it. Do not sell your bike. I won't have you thirty years from now having a middle aged crisis because you sold your bike in your twenties."
"This is why I'm going to marry you one day." He stands up and pecks your lips. "I'm going to tell Casey today that we want it. Love you."
"I love you too."
"And you munchkin." He spikes Luna's fair dark hair up into a little mohawk. "I love you too."
Luna's first birthday marks you and Shawn's second anniversary of being together. It's incredible, unbelievable and most of all a miracle you made it through her first year. There were times when you had to sit in the bathroom and just cry because Luna's crying was too much. There was the baby gate incident when she grabbed on to the gate to stand and it wasn't fully latched and she had gone tumbling down the stairs. Her late night growing pains and sleeplessness. Refusing food if it wasn't from her favorite parent of the day. And worst of all, putting her in daycare and being away from her. That was the hardest of all.
It's the end of the day, your parents and Shawn's have gone home. Luna is passed out in her play area, snuggled up with her new teddy bear. You're exhausted, Shawn is exhausted, the day could not have been over faster.
"Hey," Shawn says softly, sitting down beside you on the couch and passing you a piece of cake. "I know you didn't eat much earlier."
"Thanks." You dig your fork into the pink frosted white cake. "I got you something."
"For our anniversary."
Shawn grins and licks his fork clean of it's frosting. "Oh yeah?" He reaches over the side of the couch and pulls a card in an envelope out of lilies toy ottoman. "I got something for you too."
"Me first." You hand him a small envelope and he opens it up. Inside is a gift certificate for Casey's shop.
"What..." He shakes out two little silver barbells. "Oh." A slow grin spreads across his face. "Oh you want my nips repierced, huh?"
"Whenever you want to do it. If you want to that is. The certificate is good for anything obviously."
Shawn leans over and kisses your cheek. "Just admit you're a little kinky and you like playing with me."
"Shawn!" You hiss, eyeing the sleeping one year old on the playmat nearby.
"She's asleep. Don't worry about it." Shawn places his gift in your lap. "Open yours."
You pull open the flap on the yellow envelope and pull out a glittery card. Happy anniversary to my beautiful wife. "Wife huh?" You chuckle and open the card. "We aren't married y-" the card begins playing a tinny recorded version of Marry Me by Train and in the center of the card is taped a little silver ring.
"Will you be my wife?"
"Shawn!" You fumble with the ring and put it on. It's thin, delicate with a small little diamond in the middle. "How?!"
"I've been saving for the last two years. I know it's nothing huge of course. I promise your wedding ring will be much bigger."
"It's gorgeous." You set your cake plate aside and reach for his face. "I'd love to marry you." You lean in and kiss him.
You and Shawn look down at Luna who's woken up and made her way to the couch. Shawn lifts her up and she reaches for your face.
"Mmmm." Luna giggles and smushes her mouth to your cheek. "Makissmakiss."
Shawn leans in and kisses your other cheek. "I think she wants a kiss too darling."
You pull away and wipe at your cheek. "You want a kiss baby?"
Luna giggles and you lean into kiss her cheek. She points to Shawn. "Da! Da!"
"Dad next?" You laugh and kiss Shawn's cheek. Luna falls back into Shawn giggling and he hugs her tightly. "You're such a goober."
"She's our goober." Shawn presses his face into her hair. "Our little punk."
"Yes she is." You lean against him and Luna grabs your hand as she closes her eyes to sleep. "Our adorable little punk."
Thank you so much for reading :)
*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****
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Just A Natural Fact
Request: hii I was wondering if I could request a marauders sirius black x reader where sirius black, the reckless & loud marauder, has a soft spot for the kind & responsible reader. sirius' duality is thus teased by sirius' best friends until they too get to know her throughout the school years; amidst the slow-burn flirting & maturity, the rest of the marauders realize the the two of them balance each other perfectly & they too appreciate the reader's character & love for sirius. thx if you can! ♡ - @thisismiku
A/N: Title - Paula Abdul - Opposites Attract. Thank you so much for sending in this request, I truly hope you like it and that I’ve done it justice. And I hope you don't mind but I’ve combined with my prompt for @dreamer821 ‘s writing challenge. Congratulations, JJ - you deserve all 500 followers and more! The prompt I used is in bold! I’m feeling a little insecure about this fic if I’m being honest, I’m worried that it isn't the best that it could be so I’m so sorry if it isn't! Nevertheless, I do hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader
Warnings: swearing, immaturity, slow burn flirting/romance, sneaking out, fluff, bit of angst (but not a lot), use of she/her pronouns
Word count: 3.9k
It was hard not to miss the way Sirius Black climbed the stairs in the Great Hall to be sorted into his house.
It was hard not to miss the silence from his relatives at the Slytherin table when instead of Salazar’s house, he was sorted to into Godric’s.
Your sorting is over relatively quickly. Sorted into Gryffindor, you make your way to the table, sitting yourself next to the now silent Sirius Black. He picks at the food on his plate, not focused on the rest of the sorting until three boys he must recognise from the train, all sit with him.
“Are you okay?” You whisper. Glancing to your right, you see him nod once before plastering a smile across his young face, greeting the boys now sat with you.
They spend their first meal at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry laughing and joking as if they’re old friends catching up. You spend your first meal at the school silently worried for the boy next to you; wondering about the reaction from his parents.
From the sound of his laughter so close to your ear, it seemed that he was to make himself known to the house and your year group.
Sirius Black was very much your opposite in more ways than one. It would be a miracle if a friendship was formed.
You begin to notice a pattern with Sirius Orion Black. He had made himself known already for being the class clown and prankster; acting aloof and reckless in the halls. He and his tight-knit group of friends had their targets for their pranks.
His personality was amped up to the maximum whenever he received a letter over breakfast. It didn’t happen often; once a month and you knew that it was from his parents. For a moment after reading, he would watch the table in silence, taking in the words that were no doubt written to hurt.
Then his head would snap up; a wide grin forming, and you knew that the following week would be full of mayhem and the screams of students on the unfortunate end of their pranks.
Second Year continues much the same as the first. You’re determined to do well in your exams; you stick to your timetable and ensure that you’re ahead on assignments. You’ve settled into your friendship group well, though they would admit that they often worry how much time you spend in the library.
However, it has helped, by the end of Second Year, you’re tutoring others in Potions and Charms. It all goes on your transcripts, but you’re happy to help in any way you can.
But despite all of that, you wonder if you could help the young, long-haired Marauder.
Third Year begins much the same as your Second. You settle back into your academic routine after taking the summer off to enjoy the sun and relax with your family and friends where every so often, your thoughts drifted to long-haired boy who garnered attention as if it was going out of fashion.
A change in seating plan has you sat next to Sirius Black in History of Magic. Professor Binns changes the seating plan at the beginning of every year to keep with school policy, but he never truly enforces them so it’s odd that Sirius chooses to remain in his spot next to you.
You try not to think too much of it; focusing on the work each lesson, quill scratching away at your parchment as you note down facts on the Goblin Rebellions of the seventeenth century.
Sirius focuses for a while as well; making the odd note here and there until a wad of paper hits his face. Thrown by his friend James Potter, no doubt, as you hear his laughter from across the room. Sirius loses all focus then; instead, throwing the ball of paper between his hands for a minute before launching it back across the classroom.
It continues like that for most of the lesson, until the ball of paper is caught by Remus Lupin who smacks James on the shoulder. Remus doesn’t say anything, he rolls his eyes at James’ hurt expression before returning to his work.
A quiet voice interrupts your watching of the scene, “I hope we didn’t distract you.”
You respond just as quietly, “You didn’t.”
He smiles, “Good. I’d hate to pull you from your notes.”
From there, Sirius spoke to you more often. Greeting you in the Great Hall every morning, grabbing your attention in class. The Marauders would chuckle at him; not understanding his sudden need to be around you.
Every morning in the Great Hall, Sirius would receive a swift elbow to the ribs from James who would nod towards the entrance where you would linger for a moment before walking to your seat at the table. “You can relax now, Sirius. (Y/N) is here.”
Sirius’ head would snap up at the mention of your name. He smiles at you as you take your seat among your friends. One of your friends nudges your side, pointing down to where Sirius sits, whispering something in your ear. You roll your eyes at her before waving to Sirius.
A slow friendship begins to emerge; he’d seek you out in the library, sitting with you quietly as you studied. You would search him out in every class you shared, catching his eye with a smile which he returned toothily.
The friendship was new; you were still getting to know each other. The time you spent together was filled with whispered conversation about childhoods and hobbies. He’d sit and listen to your stories with a smile on his face; happy to get to know you inside out. There was something so inherently good about you – he felt drawn to your nature.
Remus approaches Sirius in the Gryffindor common room one evening. He couldn’t understand why Sirius had sought you out to be friends. You were both so different; Sirius was hurtling down the route of becoming the school’s bad boy – all leather jackets and smoking by the Black Lake. You were the epitome of kindness walking down the straight path of good grades and heading towards being appointed Head Girl.
Remus sits next to Sirius on the couch, saying, “(Y/N) is a good person, Sirius; she’s kind and responsible.”
“I know that. What are you saying Moony?” Sirius asks, an eyebrow raised.
“I just want you to be careful.”
“I’m not going to hurt, (Y/N), Remus. I want to be her friend.”
“I can’t help but be concerned. You’re so different, Padfoot. You see that right?”
“I do, but that’s why we’re going to work.”
From the beginning of fourth year, your friendship with the Marauders began in earnest. Your social groups blended into one, and you didn’t feel as intimated by them all as you once did. They weren’t as wary as they once were; they weren’t as worried as they once voiced to Sirius. You spent more and more time with Sirius; your kindness had earned you his trust and his walls slowly began to crumble. There was something so open about your face and so kind in your touch that he couldn’t help but fall under your spell.
A hand on your shoulder drags you from your dream. Before you can scream, a hand covers your mouth and a familiar voice whispers, “Lumos.”
In the pale light from the wand, Sirius’ grey eyes meet yours. They’re red-rimmed, but he has a small smile on his face. He pulls his hand away from your mouth, whispering, “Come with me.”
You shake your head, replying just as quiet, “Sirius, it’s three in the morning.”
His shoulders shake with silent laughter, “Live a little, (Y/N).” He stands at the side of your bed, holding a hand out to you, “Come with me… please.”
And there is something so vulnerable in his expression that you take his hand, grabbing your jumper and pushing your feet into your slippers.
In the light of the common room, Sirius looks over your outfit, snickering at the sight of your bunny slippers. You glare at him, tapping your feet, “They’re my favourite slippers, Black. They’re called Norman and Leonard; I expect you to be respectful.”
Sirius covers his mouth with his free hand for his other one had not let you go yet. He stifles a laugh, “I’m sorry, I won’t laugh again. They’re very lovely.” His voice breaks on the last word, and you rip your hand from his.
“Sirius, I don’t sneak out, so if you woke me up to make fun of me then I’m going back to bed.”
“No, wait,” He reaches for your hand again; happiness flows through him when you let him take it, “Come with me please, I can’t sleep.”
“You promise not to make fun? I don’t do this, Sirius. I follow the rules for a reason.”
“I know but trust me on this.”
Sirius doesn’t let go of your hand as he leads you through the portrait hole and through the school to the astronomy tower. You have to walk faster to keep up with his long strides but keep up you do.
He doesn’t let go of your hand upon arriving at the astronomy tower; neither does he let go of it once he sits on the cold, concrete floor, pulling you down to sit next to him.
The coldness of the floor seeps through your thin cotton pyjamas. You shiver from the feel of it. Sirius doesn’t miss this; he’s shrugging off his jacket before your teeth can start chattering.
“Here, take this.”
You’re enveloped in his jacket; the sleeves far too long for your arms to fit comfortably. You wrap it around yourself, enjoying the residual warmth left over from his body but also committing to memory the smell that is so distinctly him: leather, cinnamon, cloves and a hint of tobacco.
You knock your foot against his leg, “What’s the matter?”
“What makes you think something is the matter?”
“It’s not like you to drag me out of bed so late into the night so something must be the matter.”
Sirius smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “Like I said earlier, you need to live a little.”
You huff, rolling your eyes, “There’s nothing wrong with being responsible, Sirius.”
“No, you’re right.” He mutters, eyes focused on a spot far away in the distance.
Sirius falls into silence; his mind further away than his body. He breaks the silence a moment later, “I got another letter from my parents.”
You take Sirius’ hand in your own, “Oh, Sirius…”
“They’re being themselves – comparing me to Regulus as if I don’t already know he’s the better son. He’s a Slytherin, for Merlin’s sake.”
“It’s a shame.”
“That your parents never took the time to know you.”
“Because they would see what a wonderful man you’re turning out to be.”
Sirius rests his head on top of yours, “Thank you,” he whispers, voice choked with emotion.
There were moments in your friendship with Sirius that he took your breath away with the sheer scale at which he was able to feel things. In times like this when he spoke about his family, his brother, and his fears, you’re shocked at the implicit trust he holds you in. You would never break this trust; you couldn’t, it’d go against every cell in your body to do so.
So many wonder how the friendship works; so many wonder how two people as opposite as you are could be so close friends. They don’t see moments like this where Sirius breaks down his walls and lets you in. They don’t see the moment where your kindness and fierce loyalty to your friends comes shining out of you as you listen to his words and wipe away his tears if needed.
They don’t need to see it. It’s for you and Sirius to experience with your hand in his and his head resting on yours.
In the morning, he’s calmer and he’s breathing easier than he was last night. He’s grateful to have you by his side; you calm him down – you help find sense in all the mess of his emotions. You remain patient as he stutters out his problems and you listen to each and every word. You’re kindness’ incarnate, he swears.
He drops a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you at the breakfast table. Sirius doesn’t miss the puzzled and amused looks from the rest of the Marauders; he shakes his head at them as he piles food onto his plate. They’re his closest friends in the world, and they tease him relentlessly for how he’s latched himself onto you, but he couldn’t be less bothered. They don’t need to understand the friendship, but he’s grateful that they accept you without too much question.
As fifth year begins, and the pressure from OWLs begins to mount, you start spending more and more time in the library. You study for everything; going over topics you’re confident on whilst also revising the topics you aren’t certain on whatsoever.
You revise a lot with Remus, him being a calming presence when studying as he explains subjects in such a way where the panic leeches from your body and you feel you finally have a grip on it. He’s a natural born teacher.
Sirius joins you some of the time, but his confidence over the exams has you panicking more. So he would meet you in the common room after, pulling you to one side to quash any remaining fears that your studying had not resolved.
He would finish his speech with a kiss on your cheek or your forehead that had your body heating from the touch.
It was a physical friendship; it always had been. Neither you or Sirius were afraid to show your affection through a kiss on the cheek or a hug.
But lately those touches started to linger. His lips would rest on your cheek a second longer than they used to, and his arms would hold you that little bit tighter as if afraid of the minute where he would have to let you go.
Your own feelings had changed; you had given your heart to the long-haired Marauder without even realising it. Your eyes lingered on him longer, noticing things you hadn’t before – such as the way he always had a leather band wrapped around his wrist, to ties his hair up should he need to, or the way that his nose scrunched up before he started to laugh in earnest. Your heart stuttered in its beats whenever he laughed. Your heart was his to break should he wish.
You didn’t know that Sirius was feeling the same. He thinks he fell in love with that night in Fourth Year in the astronomy tower, but he didn’t realise it until half way through Fifth Year when you caught his eye across a classroom and smiled at him so widely that it knocked the very breath from him. He’d given you his heart and he didn’t even know he had.
There was something simmering under the surface of the both of you. It had the flirting becoming more and more noticeable to your friends and the Marauders. It had teachers wondering if you’d finally gotten your act together and confessed.
Your friendship with Sirius was on the verge of becoming something more. It was if you were both performing a balancing act. Each holding onto the other’s hand, teetering on the thin wire, wondering which way you’re destined to fall.
“You’ve got six down wrong,” Sirius murmurs over your shoulder; mouth close to your ear.
You huff, reading over the crossword clue again, “I’m absolutely positive that it’s right.”
Sirius’ finger points to the clue, “It isn’t Plantagenet.”
You turn from where you lean against his side. Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “How do you know so much about muggle royalty and history?”
He taps the side of his head, “I just do, love.”
You snort, smiling, “I don’t believe you for a minute.”
Sirius shrugs with a chuckle, “Don’t. Let your crossword be wrong.”
You frown, looking back down at the crossword, thinking over the clue. It takes a minute before it clicks. You shove at his shoulder, “Sirius! The answer isn’t wrong!”
He laughs at the angry expression on your face. “Sirius, you’re such an arse.”
You make to move away from him; to sit further down the couch from him but he grabs your hand as you start to shift, pulling you back against him. You glare at him, but the glare soon melts at the happiness reflected in his grey eyes. You stare at each for a moment, unaware of the rest of the common room. The only thing you’re focused on is him and his grey, grey eyes.
James, Remus, and Peter watch the scene unfold in front of them. You shove at Sirius’ shoulder with a shout, but Sirius grabs your hand, pulling you further into his side. You both look at each other; staring into each other’s eyes as if there isn’t an audience watching.
The trio watch the scene unfold, and they each have the same thought: they’re perfect for each other, and they’re blind to it.
On a Monday morning halfway through Sixth Year, Remus, James and Peter sit next to Sirius in the Great Hall with the intention of getting him to figuratively pull his head out of his arse.
“When are you telling (Y/N) that you’re in love with her?” Remus greets; always blunt when needed.
Sirius chokes on his drink.
“It’s pretty obvious, mate.” James states to Sirius’ dismay.
“Do you think she knows?” He asks.
James shakes his head, “No, she doesn’t. Are you going to tell her though?”
“What if she doesn’t feel the same?”
“Not possible.” James states as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“Yeah, we watch you together all the time. (Y/N) looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky for her or something. It’s intense to watch, honestly.” Remus says.
Sirius frowns, “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”
“Sirius,” James sighs, “I don’t think you could even if you tried. We’ve all watched you for the last month or so and if we didn’t think you were perfect for each other before, we do now.”
“Yeah?” Sirius asks, so much vulnerability in that one word.
All three nod. Remus pats his shoulder, “Go talk to (Y/N).”
Sirius leaves his friends in the Great Hall, making his way through the rush of students desperate to get to their first lesson of the day. He knows he’ll find you in the common room; having the first lesson every Monday off as a free.
You’re sat on one of the many red leather couches that decorate the Gryffindor common room, pages of parchment in your hands as you read over your revision notes for your advanced classes. Sirius sits next to you on the couch; you immediately change your position to make room for him on the couch.
“I didn’t expect this,” You greet.
Sirius grins, “I missed you at breakfast, what can I say?”
You laugh, “You’re a flatterer, Black.”
In the quiet of the common room, you find your peace with Sirius. His very presence calming your mind but sending your heartbeat racing with a single look from the corner of his eye. You had become used to the way he affects you; how a smile can leave you breathless and a wink can leave your skin overheated.
“I can’t keep lying to you anymore, (Y/N).” Sirius states all of a sudden, voice breaking the silence.
“When have you lied to me, Sirius?” You ask, worry evident in your voice.
“Every day since fifth year.”
Your hand drops into your lap, “What?”
“With every touch, every kiss on the cheek. I lied through it all. I didn’t want friendship. I wanted more.”
“What do you mean, Sirius?”
“I’m in love with you. This isn’t a childish crush; I know I’m in love with you. Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break.” He says; eyes blazing, hands on either side of your face, tilting it up to look at him.
“It has only ever been yours,” Sirius repeats.
Your hands cover his as you reply, “Just as mine has only ever been yours.”
He gasps; lips parting as he stares down at you. “Do you mean it?”
You nod, “It has been for a while.”
You gaze into each other’s eyes, letting the euphoria of your confessions wash over you both. One of Sirius’ hands leaves your face to settle on your waist, pulling you that little bit closer to him. The silence is deafening; it’s charged with a heady electricity.
Sirius breaks it with a whispered question, “Can I kiss you?”
Your nod is the only answer before his lips envelop yours. He controls the kiss, throwing all emotion into it. He’s felt this way for so long and he’s finally getting to hold you in his arms with the passion he’s felt for so long. You smile into the kiss, and it almost drives him to the brink of madness with the way you’re responding to him.
You pull away breathless. Sirius peppers kisses all over your face – on your cheeks, on your nose, on your forehead. Wherever he can reach, he kisses because he’s so damned happy right now.
Sirius holds tightly to him, staring into your eyes. “I’ll love you until my very last breath, and even after. If there’s another life after this one, I’ll love you there as well.”
Tears line your eyes at the beauty of his words; at the fact that they’re being said to you. You sniffle, saying, “Sirius Black: a romantic who’d have thought?”
“I pour my heart to you; I kiss you and you make jokes? I see how it is, I’ve been a bad influence on you.”
“Poor baby,” You coo, beaming up at him.
“I am. I’m hurt and I think you should kiss it better.” He says, grinning wickedly.
“Anything to heal,” You quip, smirking.
Sirius pulls you back in for a bruising kiss; taking control the moment your lips touched. He pushes you further into the couch; his body weight feeling perfect on top of you. Your hands tangle in his hair, eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat at the slight pull of your hands.
For so long you had wanted this man. For so long you had yearned for this man who was so distinctly your opposite in every way. It shouldn’t work, but as his lips travel to your jawline, you realise that it does.
It works perfectly.
From the outside, they’re a pair you wouldn’t necessarily put together. Sirius is loud, and he’s brash and sometimes he doesn’t think before he speaks, but around you – he quietens, as if the constant noise in his brain finally settles and he can think straight. You’re quiet, kind and responsible – always there to help people, but Sirius brings out a side of you that enjoys a little recklessness, even if that is sneaking out to watch the stars or to view the castle at night or to make out in one of the lesser travelled corridors.
You balance the other. You help him keep control of his emotions; he helps you come out of your shell a bit more.
Those outside the relationship don’t need to understand it; all they need to see is two ridiculously happy people, each with a depth-defying love for the other - and that’s a natural fact.
General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @slytherinprincess03 @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis @masterofthedarkness @bforbroadway @chaotic-fae-queen @peachesandpinks @nebulablakemurphy @haphazardhufflepuff @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @firewhisky-kisses @deafgirltingz @kylosleftbuttcheek @heloisedaphnebrightmore @harrypotter289 @sprvpti @accio-rogers @potterverseimagine @figlia--della--luna @angelinathebook @dreamer821
Sirius Black taglist: @cheapglitter @fific7 @approved-by-dentists
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Ok but the fact that Louis like clenched his teeth and cursed and squirmed when he got tattooed, and then when Harry got tattooed he just stayed quiet and got dizzy until his pupils dilated and he looked all flushed..... he really does have a pain kink huh.
you really had to say it, huh
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dan’s instagram stories: ha hA minions 🤭🤫 are sexy🤭😏😜, i am horNY and also gaY😜🥵🍌💦
phil’s instagram stories: ha ha look at these animals 🥰🍃🐰🌼🐿🥰🌿✨🌸🥰🐣🦝🌺🍃✨
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This is THE shipping dynamic and you can’t change my mind
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I hope I’m not placing my trust on the wrong person this time. I hope you are who I think you are and who you said you are. We’re alike because we both want honest, upfront conversation - we don’t play games, and we get straight to the point.
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The Human Pin-cushion
Bad Girl/Good Boy!AU || High School!AU
Pairing: Jongin x Reader
Genre: Smut (this was originally meant to be fluff + sexual tension BUT...yeah) || Rated: M
Summary: He’s the quiet, shy type with a future career in music whose body is his temple - except when it comes to fried chicken. When he’s teamed up with a fellow student who’s hair changes every three weeks, flirts with any and everyone, chews WAY too loudly and is a walking pin-cushion; the chemistry surprises both him…and you.
Word Count: 4.1k (I’M SORRY)
Opposites Attract Mini Masterlist
For the last few months, Jongin has been preparing for this; his routine is tight and flawless, his body perfectly toned for an eighteen year old male due to the strict training regime he’s given himself – except for when his parents bring home fried chicken.
Kim Jongin, top of the class in Dance and Theatre Arts, is a boy who loves his body and treats it like a temple.
Jongin can’t say he’s disgusted with his classmates and their lack of respect for themselves, he’s too kind-hearted for such emotions but he can’t understand their train of thoughts. Drinking, smoking, sex, piercings and tattoos, things that most teenagers his age start to experiment with as they step into adulthood before leaving high school and moving onto bigger and better things; Jongin doesn’t see the point in putting his body through such states so while they are causing havoc, he’s practicing, training and working out.
You are the one person he can’t understand the most, though. You are an enigma to Jongin. All through high school, you were the sweet, shy girl who couldn’t look any of the boys in the eye and was quite reserved but here you are, walking into class with a singlet that shows your mid-drift and extremely tight black jeans, hair a platinum blonde with blue tips – a different colour to last week, chewing obnoxiously loud and laughing at something the guy next to you said.
Laughing while running your hand down his bicep.
Jongin looks away, rolling his eyes as he begins stretching; today they were going to be given an assignment to complete for the end-of-year assessment. An assignment Jongin has already been preparing for.
You watch him out the corner of your eye, the boy who always ignores your advances and acts like he’s better than everyone around him.
You know he doesn’t mean it but that doesn’t help the reputation he’s received for being the teacher’s pet; top of the class, star dancer Kim Jongin.
You shrug off the backpack and begin stretching before the teacher enters the room, making an effort to shake your ass a little for the guy you walked in the room with, his eyes blowing wide at the view you give him.
“Attention class,” you stand and continue with stretching your arms as your teacher, Miss Ying, walks into the room, “today is the day that you will begin your assignment.” She begins taking attendance while talking. “This year is different due to the larger numbers in this class, so this year the theme is love story,” there is a few oohs and aahs muttered through the room, “and you will be performing with partners.” The sound of someone choking fills the room.
All eyes fall on Kim Jongin.
“Sorry,” his cheeks flush pink and you have to cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the giggle that’s about to leak out, “but partners?” You can see the fear flash across his handsome features.
Most of the girls are excited, they may have a chance to dance with the Kim Jongin but you – you just stand there chewing your gum loudly in the silent room, watching his world collapse around him. You don’t enjoy his misery, you know that he works extremely hard to be where he is and once upon a time, you were the same but you do find him a form of prude. Lately, you have been feeling free and you enjoy living that freedom – Jongin enjoys scoffing at your choice of freedom.
“Yes, Mr. Kim, partners.” Miss Ying clears her throat which causes everyone to fall in line – even you and Jongin. She walks in front of each student, pairing each girl with a boy until she reaches you. “Ah, Y/N, as much as I enjoy you expressing your freedom, that new belly ring may make things troublesome for your partner to dance with.” You shrug, blowing a small bubble and smiling while Miss Ying sighs. “Y/N and Kim Jongin.”
“What?!” You both exclaim.
“Yes, it shall be interesting to see what my two best students come up with.” With a knowing smile, she continues the class.
He’s paired with you.
The classmate who looks like a pin-cushion; several piercings adorn your ears, one glistens in your nose, a new belly ring that flashes in the artificial light of the cafeteria and a tongue bar that he can see every time you open your mouth. Who knows what else lies hidden under your clothes…
“What are you thinking about?” An elbow in the ribs pulls his attention back to the food in front of him; he only now acknowledges the presence beside him and the warmth on his cheeks.
“Fuck off, Sehun.” A loud gasp fills the air around him as Sehun clasps his hands on his face, dramatically as Oh Sehun is.
“Kim Jongin, using profanity? What caused this change in good boy behaviour?” Sehun snickers, following where his friend’s line of sight ends.
On you; laughing and flirting with the same boy from earlier.
“Y/N? Hell, Jongin, out of all the girls…”
“What is with her?” Jongin mumbles, uninterested in the rant his friend is beginning; lost completely in his own thoughts.
Three weeks pass and Jongin still treats you indifferently, only co-operating during class and avoiding you at every given time outside of class, it’s frustrating to say the least and you find yourself wanting to confront him.
“Oi, Kim!” You yell after him once school finishes, everyone who heard watches as your newly dyed, bright red hair storms across the field towards the frozen, tall, tanned body. “What’s your fucken deal, man?” You don’t normally swear at people, men tend to find the behaviour intimidating but Kim Jongin constantly dirty eyeing you whenever you step in the room or ignoring your existence in general pisses you off so exceptions need to be made.
“What do you mean?” He blinks a few times before a blank expression takes over his face, as if your sudden outburst doesn’t affect him.
“I want to pass this class too, hard to pass a class when my partner avoids talking to me at any given moment. Three weeks and all we have for our routine is the theme, some songs and a bunch of doodles!” You don’t care that people are staring, you have never failed a class and you don’t plan on letting him ruin your perfect grades.
“Sunday.” The breath you just took is knocked out of you as he mutters one word, you still slightly to allow him to continue. “Come to my house on Sunday and we will start planning.” You smile, having finally gotten your way.
“Sunday.” Is all you say before blowing him a kiss and walking away.
He didn’t know what came over him when he invited you over to his house but all he can think now is that you are here, in the most revealing clothes in your wardrobe and his eyes are wandering over your body. Jongin shakes his head and pulls off his sweatshirt, hoping to relieve some of the warmth his body’s emitting – it doesn’t work.
The two of you speak about the routine, Jongin hoping you would have more input due to your… flirtatious ways.
“I’ve never actually done anything, you know.” You speak up after he voiced his opinion; your brow is wrinkled as you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I know what it may seem like but it’s harmless fun; I don’t sleep with everyone I flirt with.” For some reason, Jongin is relieved to hear this.
“Well, how are we going to talk about a love story when neither of know a thing about love?” You laugh, the sound is delicate and reminds him of a girl you once were.
“We’re dancers, shouldn’t we try that first?”
It takes a while, assessments were four weeks away and you two finally managed to settle on an idea that worked with the theme you first chose.
A love story between two people who are from different backgrounds and believe different things, nearly everything about them is different apart from the connection they share together when they are close by.
You can almost believe the routine is real, that the way Jongin places his hands on your body are really filled with love and the way your heartbeats when he’s touching you is emotions flowing through you instead of the adrenaline from dancing.
Jongin grinds his hips against you and you respond immediately, the music slow and seductive to express the intimacy the couple share. Your hand reaches up and fingers curl in his chocolate brown hair before trailing down the side of his face, your hips swaying in time with his. Jongin moans, a sound that isn’t part of the routine and you suddenly realise the hardness against your rear.
“Stop…” You whisper, your body not obeying your words as you both move through the routine. “Jongin…” He hums as you breathe out his name, misunderstanding your intentions, he twirls you on time and pulls you back into his chest; looking down at you with a faint smile and dark eyes.
“Y/N.” Your eyes flutter close as his breath hits your cheeks and you smell the hint of chocolate on his breath – chocolate that you both ate before starting.
“AHEM!” The loud noise comes from the room and you see Sehun leaning against the door of Jongin’s make-shift studio – the garage at his house. “Sorry to break you love birds up but we have some place we need to be.” Sehun nods towards Jongin, who in turn looks at the clock on the wall; you can see that he’s torn between carrying on with the routine and fulfilling his promise to his friend.
“It’s okay.” You pat the sweat-drenched singlet he’s wearing before removing yourself from his embrace. “I have somewhere I need to be also.” You gather your things before winking at Sehun and walking out the door.
“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Sehun is jumping with excitement as Jongin flashes his I.D to the bouncer and they both enter the hot, sticky club and moving through the horde of bodies before reaching the bar. “Y/N must be a good influence on you if you’re willing to come with me for my birthday.” Jongin glares at Sehun while reaching for the shot glass placed in front of him.
It was because of you that he agreed to come to this club with his best friend but not for the reasons Sehun thinks.
He wants to forget about you.
The girl who’s smile warms up his bones like a nice cup of hot chocolate, the girl who crushes his spirit every time he sees you walking in class with another guy.
Jongin doesn’t want these feelings for you but spending most evenings and weekends with you has caused his heart to believe the routine is real.
He sometimes catches himself wondering if you feel the same.
He doesn’t understand why he feels this way, you weren’t his type, he liked quiet girls and you were anything but; but there is something about the way you are when he’s alone with you, like the real you inside shows underneath the flirtatious touches and provocative looks.
“Don’t look now but the object of your affection is walking onto the dance floor now.” Sehun yells over the loud music and Jongin’s head snaps in your direction. He’s unsure whether it’s the liquor that’s hitting his veins or if it’s the way you look but he finds himself shuddering slightly, his tight pants growing tighter.
Your hair has faded to a light red, almost pink hue with your natural colour peeking through, it’s the longest you have gone without dying your hair since you started; you assured him it was always wash out colours. The dress you are wearing is fitting, the belly ring hidden underneath the clingy red fabric but it accentuates the curves Jongin’s hands have held; you assured him that no man has ever touched you so gently like he does. The piercing in your nose is now a ring, most of the earrings are missing and replaced by one set of hoops and the make-up – which you never wear – enhances the natural beauty he knows lies underneath; you assured him that you were not going to get anymore as your parents have told you that you are at your limit. As his eyes move over your body, Jongin spies a pair of killer black stilettos which does nothing but show off the shape of your body and legs, legs that Jongin once imagined running his fingers over; he has never seen anyone so perfect.
He shakes his head, trying to rid the thoughts from his mind.
“Hey,” fingers snap in front of his eyes and he absentmindedly wraps his long fingers around another shot glass, tossing it back and cringing at the taste and the way it burns down his throat, “Jongin, I swear to God, if you don’t hurry up and make a move; I’m going to.” Sehun’s words hit him like a tonne of bricks.
“What. The. Fuck?” Jongin’s eyes are blown wide with surprise and he starts to register the smirk on his friend’s face, proud at himself for getting a reaction out of Jongin. Heat rushes to his cheeks as Jongin tries glare at Sehun.
“See, I was right. Dude, months of dancing up close and personal together would have to do something for one of you, if not both. Go and get her before that asshole she came with, tries.” Jongin throws back one final glass of liquid courage and leaves his spot against the bar, fuelled by the thoughts that have broken the dam and alcohol in his body.
The temple starts to crumble.
You see Jongin out of the corner of your eyes and can’t help the smile that spreads across your painted red lips. You admit, you were surprised seeing Jongin at the club because he always drones on about how his ‘body is a temple’ but you can’t help but side-eye him as he walks towards you. He looks sexy in a worn black leather jacket, hanging open to reveal the simple black singlet underneath, red and black plaid pants that hug his muscular thighs and fray just above the top of his black leather shoes, a black watch on his left wrist and a simple silver and obsidian ring on his right middle finger, his dark chocolate brown hair styled messily and makes you want to run your fingers through it; your fingertips remembering how soft those locks are.
“Y/N.” You can see his cheeks are slightly red and his breath smells faintly of alcohol as he leans towards you, effectively pushing the guy next to you away.
“Jongin.” You enjoy the way his name falls off your tongue, as if it was made for you to speak.
“What are you doing here?” His eyes flicker towards the guy shuffling awkwardly beside you, looking around as he avoids Jongin’s harsh gaze; Jongin recognises him as the boy you enter class with every day. “Who is this?” The boy goes to speak but you cut him off.
“A friend,” you notice Jongin’s posture relax slightly. “He’s gay, Jongin.” Jongin’s eyes fly open and he looks truly surprised by the revelation, which causes you to giggle.
“Oh,” Jongin’s cheeks grow redder as he fumbles over words to say, jumbling them into non-coherent apologises.
The girl who flirts with anyone who looks at her, though the sentence may ring true; you are hurt by the realisation that Jongin never took your flirtations for what they were: harmless fun.
Your heart clenches slightly as you think that Jongin mustn’t feel the difference between you around him and everyone else
“Can I-” You grab his hand before he even finishes the sentence.
Weaving through the crowd, Jongin’s heart is beating out of his chest and you feel your own heartbeat increasing as you realise what’s happening. A slow, strong and sensual beat vibrates from the speakers as you start swaying your hips in time with the music and strong hands land on your waist, gently pulling you closer as he too, moves with the music.
The atmosphere is thick with desire, the sweat and alcohol that shrouds your bodies enhances the pull you both feel as you move together, creating a friction as you grind your ass against Jongin’s hardening crotch and run your fingers through his hair.
A routine so perfectly practiced you believe it’s real.
“Take me home.” Jongin’s fingers dig deeper against the covered skin of your waist as you say the words loud enough for him to hear. His heart flutters as he thinks about how much as he wants to be alone with you, away from the prying eyes of Sehun and everyone around you.
Watching your cleavage shine with sweat and mouth slightly parted as you allow yourself to be a slave to the rhythm.
Jongin feels the walls crumble around him as he decides to give you the one thing he holds dear: his body.
He crashes his lips against yours, hands gripping your hips as he directs you towards his bed; you moan into the kiss and it fuels his want – no, his need for you. His kisses become desperate, eager to taste every part of your skin as you fall backwards.
“Jongin,” you giggle as his hands move up your ribs, you’re ticklish and he smiles as he presses hurried kisses along your jaw. A single bead of sweat travels down the valley of your breasts as you sit up and push Jongin away, just a fraction. “We have all night, all day, as long as you want.” Your eyes twinkle in the light of his bedside lamp and Jongin can see your emotions behind the irises.
You feel the same way as he does.
Jongin finds the zipper on the side of your dress, slowly pulling it down as you take his face in your hands and kiss his sharp jaw line but before he can remove the dress, you move off the bed; smirking seductively as you grab your iPhone and move towards your stereo.
The song you choose is the same one you are dancing to during the intimate part of the routine and you decide to have a little fun with a moment that is going to be more intimate than the song could ever express. You sway your hips, slowly removing the dress and letting it slide down your frame, pooling at your feet. Jongin swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he runs his hand through his hair, eyes unable to leave you; the tension in his pants becoming harder to bear with every move you make.
You turn your back to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure his eyes are still trained on you.
Unclasping your bra, you slide it off your shoulders until the only clothing left is your black lace panties and black heels. A burning hot presence is suddenly behind you, hands reaching around and kneading your perky breasts while trailing wet, hot kisses along the curve of you neck to your shoulder.
“Allow me.” Jongin’s voice is deeper, husky and strong as his hands travel down your soft stomach before sliding under the hem of the panties and he slides down with them, kissing as he goes until he leaves a little nip on your hipbone. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to feel you, baby?” You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat as he caresses your thighs, hands slowly moving along the inside of them as you continue to move to the song.
Jongin turns you to look at him – look down at him as his dark eyes wander over the body you have willingly shown him.
Something you have never shown another.
His warm breath against your damp core makes you shiver but you refuse to lose beat, even when he presses his face against you, tongue flicking out to taste what you have to offer; pink, pillow lips closing around your hard clitoris and sending a shockwave up your spine. You can’t help but want him bad, need him desperately, hunger for his body against yours.
He stands up, licking his full lips as they glisten with a mixture of his saliva and your sweetness and you take the opportunity to slide the jacket off his shoulders, fingertips gently trailing along the solid shoulders and firm biceps; Jongin’s eyes flutter shut as he sways in time with you, enjoying your touch as you remove each article of clothing that separates his body from yours.
There is no stopping what has been started, all doubts pushed as far back as possible because you know that this is real, the routine not giving you false hope because Jongin is standing in full sun-kissed, naked glory for your eyes to devour.
Everything about his body is defined, tall, lithe but slightly muscular and a rippled abdomen but what you want to touch is hidden underneath the tent of his boxers, you reach out and run your hand along the covered shaft; Jongin groans at the touch, body shivering and chest heaving. His vocalisation of pleasure sends a tingle down to your already dripping pussy.
With heels still on, Jongin pulls you back towards the bed, the song over and changing to another on the playlist he created – one he uses when he can’t stop thinking about you. He grabs a condom from the bedside table and removes the final hindrance of the night before rolling it down the throbbing member.
“Are you ready?” His voice a near whisper as he lines himself up with your entrance, nervous for giving himself to you in a way he never thought he ever would – and you receiving him with all you are. You nod, not allowing doubt to fill your mind even when he slides inside and a sharp pain causes you to grit your teeth. “I’m sorry,” he places a kiss on your neck as he slowly pushes further, “does it hurt?”
“No…” You lie, waiting until he’s encompassed by you before you start to breath. “Please, move.” He does just that, slowly rotating his hips as he moves in and out of you, the discomfort quickly turning to pleasure.
Sweat starts to travel down his back as your nails gently trace the muscles underneath, his breath mingles with yours as you sloppily kiss and moan into each other’s mouth, not wanting to waste a second as Jongin snaps his hips and you meet him at every thrust; the music still controlling your bodies but nearly completely drowned out by the slapping of skin and erotic noises echoing around the room.
“Baby,” you say the pet name and Jongin opens his eyes to see you gazing lovingly up at him, even with your hair matted around you and lipstick smeared, Jongin thinks you look beautiful, “faster, please…I’m so-so close.” He complies, shifting onto his hands so he can angle himself better; his eyes never leaving your face as your expression contorts with pleasure.
You start to clench around him and Jongin speeds up, feeling himself growing closer to his blissful end. You see white hot stars burst behind your eyelids and your lips form a perfect ‘O’ as you feel the waves of pleasure course through you.
“Y/N…” Jongin strains out, his own climax erupting inside the latex as he throbs inside you before collapsing his weight on top of your body; you instinctively wrap your arms around him as you stroke his damp hair.
Your eyes drift shut as you feel his breathing slow, his chest rumbling with light snores and his weight feeling comforting above you.
The day of Jongin and your assessment arrives quicker than either of you expected and as you prepare for your turn, strong arms wrap around your waist.
“Nervous?” An amused voice whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss just below your earlobe. His teeth moving to nip at the one stud you have left in your ear – with two left on the other side.
“You wish, Kim Jongin. I’m going to kill it today.” You wrinkle your stud-free nose as Jongin chuckles, pulling you tighter against him.
“We’re going to kill it, baby.” Jongin smiles a winning smile at you as you push him away, laughing as he sees your previous nerves disappear.
“Mr. Kim, Miss. Park, it’s nice to see you two getting along.” Miss Ying winks before walking past towards the area where the assessors are seated. “Also,” she pauses before looking at you, “it’s nice to see your natural colour again, Y/N.”
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Because Opposites Attract - Steve Rogers One Shot
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader
Summary: Steve is prim and proper and you cuss like it’s going outta style. So why is Steve attracted to you so much?
Inspiration was taken from hearing this song: Opposites Attract
(Possible proof reading errors)
Steve winced as he came into the gym area.
The heavy metal you always listen to whilst working out was just far too loud. It was a cacophony of drums and growls and none of that nice melody he loved from the big band days.
Bucky was in the corner, laughing with you as he did pull ups. Steve wished he could be as carefree as Bucky sometimes to accept most of the modern caveats of the 21st Century.
“Hey old timer,” you call, squatting down with a barbell so Steve had to avert his eyes rather than look at how pert your rear looked as you moved.
“Hey kid,” he retorts. “This music is gonna make you deaf.”
“Alright grandad,” you sigh, rolling your eyes as Bucky snorts. “I suppose if I stare at the TV too long than my eyes will go square too, huh?”
“That's not..” Steve blusters.
He felt so out of time around you that he was embarrassed.
“Come on, Stevie,” Bucky joins in. “Don't be such a stick in the mud. Just feel the beat.”
Steve just gave a hmph sound before moving to the punching bags, working himself up a sweat. He had to admit that sometimes this genre gave him extra aggression but it's not something he would choose to listen to.
“There we go,” you laugh, seeing him moving to the drums. “Not so bad, huh? Can't be listening to Glenn Miller when training.”
“I could try,” he mumbles.
“You'll never make a modern man outta him, doll,” Bucky sniggers. “Don't try.”
“Shut up, Buck. You're just pretending anyway,” Steve says bitterly.
“Of course not, I really like this band.”
“What's it called?”
He watches Bucky grasp in his brain, his eyes going wide with panic, “Uh, the Deaf Phones.”
“Deftones,” you start giggling. “You two are great sometimes.”
With that, you finish up your workout before walking out of the room. Steve watches you as you go, your hips swaying with a femininity you always seemed to fight. You never wore dresses or skirts and you preferred to slum around in t-shirts and combat pants. He just wished he knew why that was attractive to him.
“Gonna close that mouth of yours?” Bucky nods and Steve quickly pulls himself together. “Ask her on a date if you're that interested.”
“We're very different people,” Steve shakes his head. “She's just all fire and wildness and I'm...”
“Prim and proper?” Bucky snorts. “Steve, Peggy wasn't like you either but you were sweet on her all the same. Just because she doesn't dress in fancy skirts, don't mean she isn't good for you. It's a new world.”
“I'm still not used to it,” Steve admits.
“Me neither, pal. I'm still getting used to crop tops and hot pants.”
“Come on, train with me a bit,” Steve banishes thoughts of you out of his head. “I'm getting slow.”
“You're just old,” Bucky winks before the two of them start grappling.
“Listen up, we've got a charity fundraiser for victims of the Sokovia disaster,” Tony announces in a board room meeting. “Public is not too hot on us right now so I need everyone on their best behaviour. Gotta look spick and span. Take lessons from the two popsicles over there about how they used to dress.”
Steve felt every pair of eyes turn to him and wanted the ground to swallow him up. Tony could be a grade A ass sometimes.
“I would also like to pair off people. This makes it more unlikely that the press can catch you alone, also gives the impression we're family people.”
“Some of us actually have families,” Clint holds out his hands sarcastically.
“More fool you,” Tony side eyes him. “Okay, rather than whining and bitching, let's draw lots for who our anti-press buddy is going to be.”
He presented a huge glass goblet with paper in before shaking it violently and picking names out. Some of the Avengers weren't happy but Steve understood the logic of keeping everyone in a pack. The media had been hounding for their blood due to the mass casualties after Ultron.
“-Steve,” Tony picked his paper. “And...”
It was you. He could sense Bucky smirking at him so he kicked him under the table.
You just looked up and flashed him a mega watt grin, drawing a heart in the air with your abilities so purple smoke lingered in the shape. Natasha ended up laughing hard at that.
“Alright, suit up and boot up. We'll meet at the reception at seven. Avengers out, or whatever we say now,” Tony finishes before leaving.
“Guess we're paired up, huh?” you walk over, winking one heavily eyelined eye at him. “I promise I'll keep the scary paparazzi away.”
“I didn't realise I needed saving, Ma'am,” he folds his arms.
“Ma'am? Am I eighty five years old?” you snort.
“It's just polite, manners.”
“Well then let me say fuck your politeness, Rogers. I hate being called Ma'am,” you smirk, knowing you rile him up every time you're unladylike. “You know, just once I wanna hear you swear. You don't even cuss when you stub your toe on Bruce's equipment.”
“Not gonna happen. I'll meet you at seven.”
“Okay then,” you sigh, clapping him on the arm before leaving.
Was a simple handshake or a hug not the style any more? At least you didn't try to 'fist bump' him again this time. Steve had been horribly embarrassed trying to figure out what you were doing.
“Hot date, huh?” Bucky nudges him out of his thoughts.
“Can it, Buck,” Steve glowers. “It'll be several hours of me correcting her language.”
“And her winding you up. When are you gonna admit you have some chemistry going on?”
“We don't. I don't think she looks at me as more than a curiosity.”
“We'll see,” Bucky says mysteriously before vanishing.
Steve just looked to the heavens before going to his room to change.
It was seven-fifteen and you were not here yet.
Steve felt like a goldfish in a bowl with everyone gawking at him at this fundraiser. He tried to keep himself occupied by scanning the room for potential danger but everyone just seemed to be having a good time.
Bucky was using his best lines on the pretty assistant Tony had set him up with and Steve felt a glimmer of jealousy that he still was so natural in dating, even after his stint as a Hydra agent. Steve, however, was quite hopeless at it.
“Sorry I'm late!”
He turned around as he was drinking and the cola just spilled out of his mouth at the sight. He clumsily tried to wipe it as he looked back up.
“Is it that bad?” you bite your lip nervously. “Shit, I blame Natasha, she dressed me. Thought it would be funny if we matched. Two out of timers.”
You were dressed in a swing dress that was sapphire blue, the skirt full with a petticoat. Your hair was done in curls with the old style of victory rolls. Heck, Steve had never seen you with this much make up either and your red lips just looked so....
“Oh my god,” he breathes. “You look beautiful.”
“Is it that surprising?”
“No, I just mean...I....ah gee, I just...”
“Stop tripping over yourself Rogers. This is fucking embarrassing,” you blush. “I feel so out of place.”
“Now you know how I feel,” Steve smiles, extending his arm for you to take. “But trust me, you're a knockout, kid.”
Your smile was so wide and genuine that Steve was just mesmerised by it. He caught himself staring hard and wondering just why the hell he was so enraptured.
“Come on, let's have a good time,” you pull him up the stairs towards the main party.
It's awful and loud and Steve hates it. It's full of those fake pleasantries that the modern world has where everyone wants to be somebody, to know somebody and they'll do anything to get it. He even sees several girls give you glares of hatred just because you're with him and that only makes him pull you closer. Then he notices the guys who give him that look like they're jealous and also impressed.
“Do you hate this too?” you ask.
“God yes,” he says quickly and you laugh. “Let's go to the bar up here.”
“You don't wanna dance?”
“I..uh...,” he stutters.
He can't dance. He never learned how. Nobody wanted to dance with the skinny kid when he was young.
“Me neither,” you nudge him. “I step on everyone's toes. I'm uncoordinated as shit.”
“Buy you a drink?”
“I knew I liked you for a reason, Steve.”
You'd called him Steve. Usually you just call him 'Rogers' or 'Cap' or 'Old Timer'. He couldn't remember you ever calling him Steve. Something in his stomach just leapt a little and he grinned like an idiot.
He bought you whisky and had some himself, even though he knew he couldn't get drunk. Something about it was just comforting though. He chatted with you, unloading a little about how he still felt like an outsider and you reassured him that things take time.
After your third drink, Steve can see the flush on our face and you're smiling so much, touching him as you speak. He didn't realise how adorable you could be outside of the Avengers lifestyle.
“Excuse me, miss,” a smart dressed man taps you on the shoulder. “Can I dance with you?”
“She's with me,” Steve says politely but firmly.
“Hey, it's just one dance,” the guy frowns a little, taking hold of your arm. “No need to get protective. Stark said you weren't an item.”
“Yeah well, Stark is wrong. Beat it, kid,” Steve steps in front of you, breaking the contact.
“Is Stark wrong, beautiful?” the guy addresses you and you lazily look up at him through your slightly drunken haze.
“Yeah, I'm with Steve. Sorry,” you slip your arm around Steve's waist, leaning into his shoulder. “We like to keep it private.”
“Fair enough,” he holds up his hands. “I'll leave you to it. Sorry.”
Then he goes and Steve relaxes a little. In fact, he relaxes a lot. You leaning on him felt oddly comforting.
“You're cute when you're protective,” you laugh. “Thanks.”
“I didn't like him,” Steve growls. “Come on, let's go on the balcony. Less creeps.”
He escorts you out into the warm summer night's air and you lean on the railing overlooking the New York skyline. Its twinkling lights and neon billboards all seem to reflect in your hair, sending dancing spectrums skittering across.
“It's missing one thing,” you wink at him before moving your hands in a complicated motion and fireworks of purples and blues and greens spark into life.
Steve watches in wonderment as they form patterns, great stars in the sky, a pinwheel and, as you poke your tongue out at him, an American flag. He laughs hard at that.
“Bit cliché,” he smiles at you.
“What use are powers if they're not fun to use?” you shrug.
“I would've thought you couldn't do anything fun with powers from the Dark Dimension,” he leans on the railing. “Aren't they supposed to be destructive?”
“Only in the wrong hands. Magic is just magic after all.”
“I'm sure Stephen Strange wouldn't say that.”
“Stephen Strange can bite me,” you scowl. “I'll never forgive that dick for trying to kill me when he met me and I sure as fuck am not calling him Doctor.”
“Hey, I'm not asking you to play nice with him,” Steve moves over to you, afraid he's killed the mood. “I'm just curious about you. We never really get this kind of downtime and I...I wanna know more about you.”
“Well yeah. You insult me every morning so the least I can do is get enough background dirt on you to form a counter response.”
You snort, looking back out over the skyline, “Good luck with that. My background is boring until the incident happened. I was just your average moody goth girl way past my teens.”
“I can't picture you being moody,” Steve wrinkles his nose. “You're always so cheerful.”
“Yeah, now I am,” you raise an eyebrow. “What about you Steve? I mean, we get taught about you in history lessons but is it true? Did you used to be shorter and skinnier?”
“Oh yeah,” Steve laughs. “And I'd still pick fights with kids twice my size. I had a big thing about defending principles and honour.”
“Still do,” you note. “You correct me all the time. In fact, you don't correct anyone else.”
“That's only because I like you.”
Steve realised what he had said the second it came out of his mouth and he blushed furiously. He hadn't meant to say it. It was just a stray thought and one he'd not fully developed before it came tumbling out.
“Shit!” he swears in surprise. “I meant....ah gee, I don't know how to get out of this one.”
You're just standing there aghast and he doesn't know what to do. Were you really that horrified by the prospect?
“You swore!” you yell, jumping up and down in glee. “Steve Rogers just swore!”
That's what you were surprised about?
“Nobody's perfect,” he hides his face, looking away towards the view.
“I think you're perfect.”
Did he just hear that right? He turns to you and now you seem to be the one who's mortified by your own admission. He can see you mentally cursing.
“Y-you do?” he stammers.
“Ah fuck, I've drunk too much. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that,” you squirm uncomfortably. “It kinda came out.”
“I'm the opposite of you though,” he blinks.
“And I find that appealing,” you look at your shoes. “Am I not allowed to?”
“Of course you are. For the record, I think you're pretty swell too.”
“I don't dress like this all the time though,” you gesture to your dress.
“Doesn't matter,” he shrugs. “You wouldn't be you without looking like you're going on an army mission. God I wish I could get drunk, this would be so much less embarrassing.
“It's still embarrassing if you are drunk,” you giggle. “I'm telling Captain America I think he’s perfect. Jesus fucking Christ. What an ass I'm making of myself.”
“And I'm telling you I like you,” he counters.
He has a moment of madness where he gathers you by the waist, one arm around and one cupping your cheek. You froze in his grip, your breathing becoming quicker and one of your hands experimentally rested on his chest, on the front of his tuxedo.
“Fuck it,” Steve curses before leaning down and kissing you.
He fully expects that you might push him away but you grip onto his lapels and pull him closer. He didn't anticipate you being so sweet as you shyly kissed him back and that just made him want you even more.
“Two curse words in one night. I think I've broken you, Steve,” you smirk.
“Oh yeah? How are you gonna make it up to me? My reputation is ruined,” Steve teases.
You respond by grabbing the back of his neck to pull him back down to you, softly kissing him again and Steve just wraps you in his arms like he never wants to let you go.
“Let's ditch this party,” you suggest.
Steve wonders if you're going to be incredibly forward. He's not sure if he can handle such a bold move just yet. His forties principles were still firmly entrenched.
“There's a late night showing of Gone With The Wind if you wanna catch it?”
Steve wasn't expecting that at all.
“Yeah? What did you think I meant? I'm brash but I don't put out before a first date, Jesus....” you shake your head.
“I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you to suggest a movie that I've actually seen when it first came out,” he says in wonderment.
“I like the classics too. I'm not married to my aesthetic and I can be romantic if I wanna be,” you challenge him. “Don't put people in boxes.”
“I guess we're not such opposites after all,” Steve kisses your forehead. “I would love to go to the movies with you. My treat.”
Your face splits into a wide beaming smile and Steve feels like a million dollars right now. When you pull him back into the party, you say you're going to fetch your coat and disappear.
“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky says as Steve draws level with the bar. “So? How did it go?”
“We're going to skip out and catch a movie,” Steve grins stupidly. “And we kissed.”
“I knew it!” Bucky claps him on the shoulder. “I knew you'd eventually wind up together. I guess my plan helped, huh?”
“Plan?” Steve says, baffled.
“I sent the guy over to try and ask her to dance. I knew you'd get protective over her,” Bucky shrugs. “Thought it might make you admit your own feelings to yourself.”
“You jerk!” Steve scowls. “That was a nasty trick.”
“Worked though,” Bucky winks. “Now get out and go enjoy your hot date.”
“We're gonna talk when I get back,” Steve warns him but in truth, he couldn't be angry.
After all, he was right. It had made him realise he had feelings for you.
As he looped his arm around you to walk you out, Steve thought how stupid he was to base his ideas of romance on having everything in common. Sometimes it was good to have differences. Then again, you had a lot of hidden interests and maybe, just maybe, you were more like him after all.
Steve couldn't wait to find out.
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Opposites Attract [Mini Masterlist]
Bad Girl/Good Boy!AU || High School!AU
Pairing: Different Member x Different OC (Reader) per one-shot
Genre: Each one-shot will have it’s own genre: Smut/Fluff/Angst || Rated: Each one-shot will have it’s own rating: T/M
Summary: They say opposites attract but what happens when what he’s attracted to is the school’s notorious bad girl.
Warnings: Each one-shot will have it’s own warnings: Swearing/Violence
The Slacker - Do Kyungsoo
➳ For someone who is always punctual, quiet and hard-working, Do Kyungsoo never thought he would find the rude slacker who’s always late, sleeps during class and from the wrong side of town. You annoy the living daylights out of him every day until one day; he learns something about you that takes him by surprise.
The Human Pin-cushion - Kim Jongin
➳ He’s the quiet, shy type with a future career in music whose body is his temple - except when it comes to fried chicken. When he’s teamed up with a fellow student who’s hair changes every three weeks, flirts with any and everyone, chews WAY too loudly and is a walking pin-cushion; the chemistry surprises both him...and you.
The Potty Mouth Hothead - Oh Sehun
➳ Oh Sehun manages to control his own anger quite well; working out, going for runs and training for football season while keeping up good grades keeps him from losing his cool...until he meets you. You, who doesn’t look where you’re going. You, who swears at him whenever he looks in your direction. You, whose new addition to your body makes his blood boil. Can he stay in control?
The Femme Fatale - Zhang Yixing
➳ Ever so sweet and oblivious, Zhang Yixing is every girl’s dream except he has his eye on one girl and one girl only. You. Little does he know that you aren’t the sweet girl he thinks you are, you are really the devil in disguise.
The Sharp-Tounged - Byun Baekhyun
➳ Byun Baekhyun is the charismatic type, he has a way with words that has landed him the role as head boy and class president but you find his voice annoying. You seem to be the only one Baekhyun can’t win over with his honey-filled words so when you are stuck with him for a class presentation; he makes it his mission to make you fall for him - like he’s fallen for you.
The Drug Dealer - Kim Junmyeon
➳ Growing up without wanting to nothing, Kim Junmyeon lives the lavish life with the best education his parents could give to him. You did deals behind the school he attended, a school he didn’t realise YOU attended also. The entitled, rich kid is going to learn the hard way that not everyone comes from money.
The Biker’s Daughter - Park Chanyeol
➳ He’s the nerdy kid who walks around with the guitar, strumming and humming. You’re the girl his parents warn him about. Her father is a biker, son. Stay away from that kind. He started to sing about you, the way you smiled, the way you took off your helmet, the clothes you wore. Everything that was bad about you, was right for his heart.
The Alcoholic - Kim Minseok
➳ You stumble past his house every night and cover your eyes with large sunglasses every morning. He could hear your mother yelling at you from across the fence that separated the two houses and could smell the alcohol lacing your breath whenever you slurred in class. You were his best friend until your father left, then you left, leaving behind an alcohol filled shell for him to look after every day. So why couldn’t he leave you? Why were you so bad for him but he couldn’t get enough of you?
The Chain Smoker - Kim Jongdae
➳ The whiny goody-two shoes was always on your case about how much you smoked. Him and his good grades, the teacher’s pet and the biggest thorn in your side. Every time you lit up a cigarette, inhaling and exhaling the deadly smoke, Kim Jongdae would make it his life mission to make you feel bad about it. Why? Because you were the one person in his life, besides himself, that he actually cared for.
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