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#i’ve just been trying to think of an easy way to explain this for a while and tried drawing it instead
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I have a problem Cas… I think im in love. 
Okay so, there’s this girl. We’ve been best friends like 5 years. I mean i’ve always- okay I don’t know how to explain this. 
I’m basically a fan-fiction come to fucking life. 
So i’m Demisexual, and last year I decided to come out to my family. I don’t know if other Demi ppl have preferences of gender, but I don’t. Honestly labels confuse me. I’m not sure if technically i’m Biromantic and Demisexual but hey, the point is- and what I explained to my family- that i’d be open to dating anyone. 
Basically i was telling them I wasn’t straight. (Obviously Demisexual is also about sexual activities and people and stuff but I wasn’t gonna try and explain to my parents that I don’t really get attracted to random ppl- cause they don’t get it- and I didn’t want to accidentally start talking abt sex). 
So anyway, they were not happy. Have you watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine? There’s this clip where the character Rosa comes out as Bi and her parents are like “That’s okay, since you can still date a man and marry a man and be normal” and they were like that for me (i’m a girl in case that wasn’t obvious- so they wanted me to date a man).
And I didn’t really care to be honest. I had an equal level of straight friends to queer friends, I felt suitably in both worlds. I truly love my family. They’ve always been good to me. But they did imply if I did end up with a girl, they wouldn’t want to meet/know her.
Not to mention the religious trauma. I spent a shit ton of time listening to ppl tell me that same-sex marriage and relationships are a “sin”. Hell- there was this one rlly lovely women at church when I was like 9, but she got kicked out when they congregation found out she was a lesbian. (Okay- not kicked out but like bullied into leaving).
So it was fine for me to accept that I could potentially date a women since i’ve never felt immediate attraction to anyone, it never felt totally real. 
BUT NOW I HAVE A PROBLEM. So my best friend (who is also a girl) of 5 years. She’s amazing. She’s literally the funniest person i’ve ever met, she’s so generous and has helped me so much, and she’s just adorable. She’s like fucking sunshine. And ngl, I don’t often like people who are so cheery all the time because it feels fake and I like people around me to be honest. 
But she just, she has this way of finding the beauty in the stupidest things and it’s so cute. We got splashed by a car the other day, drenched both our outfits, and instead of being mad, she got all excited and had us do a photoshoot in our crazy soaked clothes, and then got all excited that we could cuddle under a duvet and watch a movie with snacks once we got home cause apparently that’s the only acceptable thing people can do after being covered in water (which is exactly what we did).
And she’s not unreasonably happy, you know? Like when people try to cheer people up at bad times and make everyone more sad, she’s not like that. Whenever i’m upset, or mad, she’ll doodle these cute little flowers on coloured paper and write things she loves about the world on the back of them, and once i’m done ranting abt how annoying the world is, she’ll give it to me and smile. She has the best smile.
I have this jar, I write the date on them and put the paper in the jar. 
We’ve been best friends five years, she started doing that like four years ago and i’ve had the jar pretty much from the start. 
It’s always been easy to be around her. We sort of knew each other for like a year, and then I blinked, and we were best friends. I read all the books she gives me even though the plot is super cheesy cause she loves talking about them, I learnt how to bake all her favourite snacks her mum made, cause she’s pretty far from home and honestly a tragic baker. And she cooks dinner (don’t ask how she can’t bake to save her life but is the most incredible cook, it’s unbelievably ridiculous) for us a lot, she learnt to make my fav food. 
We technically live together, we’re at the final year of uni (maybe not tho depending on our next courses, I dunno) so we’ve been living together this year, but before that, I basically spent most of my time around her place anyway.
So yeah, we’re friends. But I realised a few months ago that i’m pretty, definitely, in love with her. I think i’ve felt like this for about a year and it just hadn’t quite clicked yet. 
(I had this awful day and came back to our place to see her genuinely painting our wall a different colour of white. She paints as a hobby and accidentally splatter a ton of blue paint on the wall and freaked out and tried buying white paint to cover it when it wouldn’t wash of and she was sat on the floor with white paint all over her and the wall still blue. 
She told me the story and I burst out laughing. I explained you often need white primer first, to cover the blue, and then to buy the correct shade of white, since ours was sort of chill white and she’d bought bright white. 
It’s the type of thing that would’ve annoyed me so much at the end of such a tough day, but because it was her, I just found it adorable. That’s when it clicked, I love her. She noticed I was tired immediately and felt bad cause she realised i’d had a bad day. I said this cheered me up, cause it did. Then we made dinner together and spent the night reading on the sofa with music on. 
We went to the shop the next day to get the correct stuff and luckily our wall is back to looking almost exactly the same). 
So yeah, I love her. Plus like, being demi, I don’t usually find ppl attractive… I mean i’ve always known she’s aesthetically pleasing, she has good fashion sense and stuff, but like, I tend to view all people as the same sort of level of attractive. BUT NOW ITS LIKE- SHES FUCKING BEAUTIFUL. It’s kind of annoyingly actually. How is everyone not spending all day gazing at her eyes. They’re fucking caramel, like a book character. She says they’re brown but she’s wrong. In dull lighting they seem brown but they’re like dark orange (amber i guess) with little hues of green, but in the sun they’re really bright and caramel and warm. 
She’s a lesbian btw. So theoretically I’ve got a shot. Also, i’ve always been good at reading people and I know she’s had like a small crush on me at least twice in our friendship. You can tell sometimes. 
But recently, it’s been a wreck. I’m so distracted cause i’m in love with her I can’t think, and my friends keep telling me she loves me back but I can’t keep my head on straight long enough to try and tell. 
But. If I do get my head out of my ass and tell her and she does end up wanting to date me, what the fuck am I supposed to do then. Cause if it does work out, i’m pretty sure it’ll last. 
My parents never totally liked her (they probably saw this coming- but I think in the homophobic, all queer ppl date each other, way and not the, they’re meant to be together, way) and if ended up having to tell them i’m actually dating a women, they’d be pissed. 
I always thought i’d end up with man, since it’s easier. No religious guilt about that. But I can put aside my own brains stupidity for her. But I can’t change my parents. But aside from this, they’re literally amazing. But I also know them and I truly don’t think they’ll change.
All my friends having been saying me and her should’ve been dating this entire time. I don’t know, I like to think now would be kinda perfect. I always knew she was gonna be in my life forever, I guess I just got so used to imagining myself with a man I forgot she was an option? That I could be with her romantically forever. You know, assuming she wants to date me.
(We’ll see about that. I’m really not sure. But i’m totally shit at keeping my own secrets so i’m planning to tell her soon if not just for the sake of my own sanity. All my friends say she’ll reciprocate, if she doesn’t, then I guess i’ll go from there, she’s not the type to be weird or bothered that we live together despite it. And if she does… then I have to decide what to do next. My other best friend is literally always right when it comes to our friends dating lives, and she has faith we’ll end up together, so we’ll see I guess) 
But if she does. If she does I’ll have to get into it with my family. I don’t want to lie to them. And I know I shouldn’t judge, but I honestly don’t think they’ll change their minds. I think they’ll say I can come visit whenever, but not bringing my partner. And I won’t want that. And we’ll all argue.  
I never liked knowing my parents didn’t accept this side of me, but I guess I never considered it would be an actual problem i’d have to deal with someday. 
I spend a lot of my time trying to figure myself out. I haven’t had the easiest path in life. But with her, it’s so easy. It’s easier to understand what I like, it’s easier to talk about things, and I fully trust her not to be weird. Or leave. Or get mad for nothing. I don’t have to walk on eggshells around her. I trust her. We don’t argue much. We have, what she calls, three different type of arguments. 
One, “bad mood argues”. She finds it so hilarious that it rhymes. You have to say it with the syllables. Bad-Mood Ar-Gues. We have these cookies in the freezer that we make every month. If one of us is having a bad day, we cook a few cookies to eat and I bought this dumb fridge magnet of a cookie to put on the fridge to signify it’s a cookie worthy bad day. 
Another one is “justifiable anger”. That doesn’t happen much. When we first met, she had this tendency to not tell me when I did something that upset her, and it’d spiral, and i’d be mad she wasn’t talking about why she was mad. So we have a rule to always talk about problems, even the little things. For example, her yelling into the phone to her family for hours while i’m trying to study- she has planned days now, so I can go to the library or she can go out if necessary, or keep the convo below 45 min, her mums like half deaf so she does have to shout, but it’s also VERY loud. Basically we comprise. And make sure no anger builds up.
The third type of argument is, what our friends call, “married idiots”. As in, she shouldn’t use the siri talk thingy while driving cause it never understands what she’s trying to say and so I get jumbled texts that mean nothing and then she thinks she’s told me something she hasn’t told me. She’s nearly understanding that one 🤦‍♀️ And you know, the classic colour of something argument (it’s purple- she’s wrong).  
Anyway. I forgot my point. Oh yeah, everything’s easier with her. I feel comfortable. If i’m being totally honest… i’m pretty sure if I ask her out, she’ll say yes. Like 80% sure. Im just scared to fuck this up, and cause family problems. Cause yeah, she’s worth the drama, but also, it’s her that’ll be being insulted right? She very likely won’t be allowed in my house. I don’t want this to ruin what we already have. 
So yeah. That. I could really do with some advice ❤️
Hi <3
If you do not ask this girl out, I will physically pass away.
Like...I'm not usually so pushy with asks, but you're describing a relationship, hon. This is a relationship. I'm not sure if you follow me because of the Marauders, but you two are literally Wolfstar, And I'm shipping the two of you so hard right now.
If, for some insane reason, she turns you down, it's because she doesn't realize she's in love with you, too.
As far as your family...again, I'm going to be more blunt that usual. You're going to have to face their lack of acceptance for you at some point. It's absolutely shit that they don't accept you, but like...don't let that stop you from being with this girl. Because even if you put off their feelings now, you'll have to deal with it someday, and then you might miss out on an amazing girl.
Please update me. I need updates. I am so invested. I am DYING for updates.
God, I'm rereading all the things you wrote and I'm kicking and giggling. You two are ridiculously adorable. Please kiss her already (with consent).
I'm naming you purple anon. Please write back.
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debonairprincesposts · 13 hours
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Absolutely loved your Lucifer x Son reader!! Can we get a part 2? Im eager to see how Charlie and the gang may react!
Hello Anon! Here’s my take on what would’ve happened in the aftermath. As requested. Wasn’t really planning on making more content relating to this Au, but here we are! The gang haven’t met (Name) so they won’t be included in this.
Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
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Lucifer was basically contemplating every bad decision he's ever made in his life as he stares at the face of his unconscious son.
He barely managed to save (Name)’s wing by reattaching it, but it'll take a while before it's usable again.
Coat and hat off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair disheveled from running his fingers through it in his moment of stress.
Eyes rimmed red from crying, cheeks stained with tears as he rubbed his eyes to get rid of the heavy feeling you usually get from crying so much.
He practically started having a mental breakdown the moment he knew that (Name)’s life wasn’t in any immediate danger. It wasn’t until a few minutes ago that he finally calmed down.
Sitting on a chair next to his son's bed, Lucifer sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He hasn't told Charlie yet. He doesn't really know how he should go about explaining what happened at the palace without freaking her out.
Wounds inflicted by angelic steel take longer to heal. He doesn’t know how long it would take for (Name) to wake up. It’s been about 3 hours since the attack, and he’s been restless ever since.
Still no sign of movement from (Name) as he lays motionless on his bed. The only way Lucifer could tell that he’s even still alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Running his fingers through his hair as he stood up from his chair, reaching for his phone in his pocket, he hesitated to call Charlie. He didn’t know how to disclose the situation to her. There’s no easy way of doing this. I mean- how do you go about telling your child that her brother could possibly end up in a coma after being attacked by bloodthirsty psycho angels! That’s ridiculous! Everything about this is ridiculous! He’s ridiculous! He’s literally the King of Hell! He should’ve done more to ensure the protection of his son! If he just had the time to construct a barrier around his home then maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. If he hadn’t been in a hurry to go save Charlie, he would’ve given it more thought. The fact that (Name) would be left defenseless all by himself with no one to help him. It’s basically a miracle that he even managed to survive all by himself. What with his inexperience in life or death fights. What kind of father would he be if he can’t even protect his children from harm! An incompetent one, he thinks.
His hands shake as he grips his phone. Taking a deep breath, he presses on Charlie’s contact and hopes that everything goes well.
“Dad! Thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been trying to call you ever since you left in a hurry earlier- Is everything alright?” Just hearing Charlie’s voice over the phone makes him want to cry again.
He swallows the lump in his throat, “I-I’m okay, sweetie! It’s just- uhh,” just say it dammit! That’s her brother! She needs to know! “It’s (Name). He- he’s not doing good at the moment.” He cringes at his attempt.
“What?! Is he okay?! What happened?”
“He-,” his throat felt dry as he swallowed, “the palace was attacked.”
“WHAT?! Is (Name) okay?!” Her panicked voice could be heard over the phone. He tried to breathe properly to not breakout into another panic attack. “Dad?! Why aren’t you saying anything?!! You’re scaring me!”
“He’s-,” he winces at the break in his voice before clearing his throat, “He’s okay now! I managed to get here on time before he-,” his voice cracked again as tears wells up in his eyes.
The other side of the line goes silent for a bit. Charlie most definitely heard his pathetic attempt at trying to compose himself.
He clears his throat again, “His wounds are healing. But I don’t know when he’ll wake up.” He settled with. His voice raspy from crying.
On the other side of the line, Vaggie was standing next to Charlie, comforting her as she processes the information she just received. It was just them two in the lobby. Everybody else was either out or resting in their new rooms.
“Do you need me to come over, Dad?” Charlie asks.
“No need for that, apple pie- I’ll stay here until he recovers. You need to stay at your hotel. I can handle it. Promise.”
“Okay,” she swallows, forcing back her tears, “Call me if you need to. Okay, Dad?”
“Of course. Goodbye, sweetie.”
“Bye-,” he hangs up.
“Everything okay, babe?” Asks Vaggie, “You seem pretty worried.”
“Worried? Me? Pshh- no! Not at all! I mean- it’s not like the angels attacked my Dad’s castle and put my brother in a coma!-,” Charlie rambles.
“What?!” Vaggie yells in shock, “Is he okay?”
“Dad said that he’s okay. (Name)’s just resting-,” Charlie starts pulling at her hair. “Why would they attack him! He didn’t have anything to do with any of this!”
Vaggie doesn’t say anything. She just takes Charlie by the hand and takes her to their room as Charlie continues to worry about her brother. Which is valid cuz like- (Name)’s her brother-
When they reach their room, Vaggie takes Charlie by the hand and leads to bed.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay. He’s got your father’s blood flowing through his veins, no? He’ll wake up before you know it- Trust me.”
Charlie sniffles, “You really think so?”
Vaggie nods, “I know so. Now- why don’t we rest and cuddle. We’ve had a long day. I think we deserve some rest, don’t you think?”
Vaggie then helps Charlie change into pajamas as they both lay in each other’s arms in bed.
“Feeling better?” Vaggie asks.
Charlie nods, “I just hope he wakes up soon.” As they both continue cuddling in bed.
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Imma be honest y’all. This isn’t my best work. Didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped. Kinda lost motivation half way through. Not sure if you can tell. But anyway! Here’s how I thought it would go. Hope y’all like it! Stay healthy and keep hydrated! ∠(ᐛ 」∠)
Bye babes!
-DebonairPrince
Help support your favorite author by buying them a ko-fi!
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codgod · 1 month
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i have crafted a diagram
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owl-fruit · 1 year
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#a thought i’ve just had about the situation causing a lot of this distress is about being viewed by my friends#i react a certain way to things; not ways that i like or am proud of but it’s in the chemistry of my brain to do so#and there are things that not even therapy can fix only make tiny improvements#while i’ve been trying to find the words to explain how i perceive the world to them in realizing more than its circular#i can explain it all i want but they won’t hear it because it’s not a matter of the words anymore#my friends say they love me but i’m telling them that there are some fundamental differences in how my brain deals with things#differences caused by my ptsd and autism (and probably other things as well)#these are unchangable facts about me- they’re not perfect but they’re not inherently bad especially since i’m /trying/#but if they won’t listen and give understanding a shot then… i don’t think they understand that our baselines are different#they can’t rewire my perspective despite how much i wish they could#so if they truly loved me and accepted me- wouldn’t the loving thing be to meet me halfway? accept that i cant have the same baseline?#i know it’s easier said than done but if they can’t love me anyway for these flaws… idk what to do#and i’m not saying either of them are neurotypical because they’re not but they don’t seem to grasp exactly what my neurodivergence modes#that this is one of the ‘not-quirky’ parts that’s really easy for people to turn their nose up to#please i can be useful i can be worth it id do almost anything to prove it i just need them to see me#personal vent
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freedomfireflies · 5 months
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Outlawed*
Summary: The fifth and final part to Knockout*
The one where Harry just wants to fight, and you just want to love him.
Word Count: 10k (folks...we made it!)
Content Warning: 18+, smut, blood, violence, brief use of a knife, pain kink, size kink
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“Cherry?”
Instantly, your head lifts. The familiarly warm nickname sewing up the frayed seams of your heart and sending it into a tizzy.
However, instead of the handsome stranger you’ve come to miss, you find Owen. Eyebrow raised and expression curious.
With a quick clear of your throat, you pull your attention back. “What?”
“Cherry,” he repeats, nodding now toward the pastry in front of you. “Is it cherry tonight?”
You look down as well. “Oh, uh, yeah. Yup.”
“Hm.” His lips press together in thought. “I like the cherry. The way you make it, it’s…it’s sweet. But just a bit sour.”
“Yup...”
“It’s very good.”
“Thanks.”
His hands disappear into his pockets with a short nod of his head. “I know the customers really like it, too. Get comments about it all the time.”
“That’s good.”
“You could probably make it every night. If you wanted.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
There’s a bit of a tense lull now as you continue rolling the dough, and you notice Owen begin to shift just out of your peripheral. He doesn’t normally hover when you’re working, not unless he’s got something he’d like to talk about, and his lingering glances make your insides begin to itch.
So, you raise a brow, and look over. “Is something…wrong?”
“Hm? Oh, no. No, not at all,” he stammers. “I just…wanted to check in. See how you’re feeling.”
Curious, you straighten up.“Oh…why?”
“Well, I’ve just noticed how quiet you’ve been,” he explains. “And I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just…trying to get my work done.”
He steps closer. “I noticed your friend hasn’t been coming around as much. The sullen one, with the dark clothes and broody temper?”
And despite everything else, you can’t help but smile at the memories. “Oh, yeah, well…I don’t think he’ll be coming by anymore. Don’t worry.”
“Ah.” A brief pause. “Is it because of Jesse?”
Instantly, you lean back, pulling the rolling pin away from the counter in surprise. “What?”
“Jesse. The other boy who was in here,” he says. “The tall, snobby one in the fancy clothes? Kind of annoying?”
“I…yeah.” Your lashes flutter. “I guess, I mean. They don’t really…get along. But…it’s probably my fault, too.”
He hums to himself almost contemplatively. “You’re not back with him, are you? The Jesse one?”
“Uh…no. Why?”
“I just…I don’t like him,” he sighs, arms crossing over his apron. “I think he’s trouble, and truth be told, you don’t always look that happy when he’s around.”
And you know he’s right, although you are a little surprised that he noticed. “Oh…well, no. No, not at all.”
“Good. Good.” He nods again. “Honestly, you can do a lot better than him, darling. Especially considering everything else he’s involved in.”
Now slightly more startled, your head tilts. “What do you mean?”
“Well…you know,” he begins, moving even closer before lowering his voice. “I don’t want to talk out of turn, and I certainly don’t want to scare you, but…I imagine you already know a little of what he really does, yeah?”
And even though you should know better than to answer, and even though you have Harry’s stern voice ringing in your ear not to trust him…you nod.
“Right, well…I know how much trouble that might put you in,” he continues. “And I know that with the fighting, and the betting, and the outsourcing…I’d hate to see you get dragged down with him—”
“Wait, what? What outsourcing?”
After a quick glance around the rather empty kitchen, Owen sighs, and murmurs, “Look, I don’t know everything, but a few months ago, he approached me with a proposal. He explained about the fights, and about the betting, and said that I’d be making easy money. That it was a guaranteed win because his fighter never lost.”
And suddenly, the image of Harry in that ring – night after night, hit after hit – paints itself across the forefront of your mind. You lose your breath, chest constricting with the thought of all the pain he endures at Jesse’s hand.
“And from what I could tell, he was taking the betting outside of the fights,” he explains. “I don’t know where or to how many other people, but he was pretty confident. And truth be told, I started to wonder if he’d maybe rigged it.”
“Rigged it? How?”
He shrugs. “I’m not really sure. Maybe he was paying the other fighter to lose or maybe he was paying his fighter extra to make sure he always won. Either way, I said no, and he took his business elsewhere. I think he was afraid of getting caught.”
And it makes sense. Every little detail clicking into place as you recall that night at the match. Jesse’s threat and his insistence on Harry’s win. Harry’s refusal not to play his game.
You straighten up. “Right.”
“Look, I just…I don’t want to see you get dragged down with him,” Owen finishes softly. “You’re a good kid, and he’s…you can do better. You can do a lot better than him, and I hope you know that.”
And you do now.
“Thanks,” you murmur before placing the rolling pin down. “I know this is a bit last minute, but is there any way I might be able to leave early today? I think I need to go find him.”
“Yeah. No problem.” He checks his watch. “Joshua’s supposed to be coming in soon. I could have him cover for you if you’d like to leave now.”
“Really? Would that be all right?”
“Sure. The pies probably won’t be as good as when you make ‘em, but…” He throws you a smile and you laugh. “Do what you need to do. And if you need any help, just give me a call, okay, darling?”
Nodding quickly, you wipe your hands down the front of your apron before ripping it off. “Of course. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
You’re out the diner door in under two minutes, nearly sprinting to your car as you work out a plan.
You’re almost positive that outside betting goes against the league’s rules (although you wonder if an illegal, underground fighting society even has any rules at all). But especially if it means Jesse ends up making more money on each fight than anyone else actually involved. The fighters included.
And if Jesse truly doesn’t want anyone else to know, you might have just found your loophole. A way to get him out of the picture and still keep Harry safe. 
You aren’t sure where to start. Truth be told, you aren’t sure what you’ll even say. But perhaps you don’t have to say much. Perhaps you only need Jesse to know that you know, and he’ll take care of the rest.
You head for the one place you know he might be. Your heart aches to call Harry, but without an address, a last name, or a phone number, you don’t really have very many options. You can only hope that he’ll find you once this is all over.
When you finally make it into the darker part of town, your pulse begins to pound. Slamming against the sides of your ribcage as you pull up to the familiar building and park. Right beside the only other car in the lot.
It’s not until you step out that you realize who it is.
“Well, well, well,” Jesse calls with a devious smirk, exiting his vehicle as well. “What a surprise, sugarplum. Come to watch tonight’s big fight?”
You take in a brave breath and begin toward him. “No. I’m here to talk to you.”
His brow raises, but he seems relaxed. In fact, far too relaxed for your liking. “I see. And can I assume this has something to do with your little boytoy?”
“Not quite. But it does have to do with you.”
“Ah.” He grins to himself before dramatically gesturing toward the warehouse. “Then, by all means.” 
So, with a shallow exhale, you oblige, trailing after him and toward the front door just as you did the other night. It’s an eerie deja-vu.  
And perhaps you should feel a bit more nervous than you do, but deep down, you know him. You know that he’s lacking any real emotion or regret, and maybe, that might just give you an edge.
After typing in the passcode, he leads you inside. The once glorious space now dark and empty. Sporting nothing but the large boxing ring and the stunning chandelier.
“I’ve gotta be honest, sugarplum, I don’t know what you said to him…but it worked,” he begins as you both walk further into the room. “I’ve never seen him fight like that before.”
You purse your lips together in an effort to resist screaming at him. “Well, that’s what you wanted, right?”
“It is.” He stops near the ring and turns around, leaning on it as he studies you. “And I knew you’d come through.”
“Great. So, you’ll leave him alone now, right?”
“As long as he wins, sure.”
“You mean, as long as he makes you money.”
His arms cross now, and that smug expression makes you want to slug him. “As long as he does what he gets paid to do, then there won’t be a problem.”
“Right. And as long as you can keep outsourcing the bets.”
For the first time, he hesitates, that arrogant grin slipping ever-so-slightly as he raises his chin. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I stutter?” You step closer, and you notice him tense. “The money that you outsource to other bettors. The money that you make – that Harry makes you – on these fights every time he wins.”
His jaw ticks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“No? You wanna bet on that?”
And you don't think you've ever seen him so livid. Not even on his worst night when you were together, and your insides begin to wrench.
But before he can reply – before he can really do anything – a door opens. Allowing a rather bright stream of light into the warehouse as you and Jesse both reach up to shield your eyes.
And then...you see him.
Harry.
It takes him a moment to understand what he’s really looking at, but you catch the exact second he realizes. The way his face contorts and his fingers curl into his fist.
And you want to explain, want to take back everything you said and tell him the truth, but he’s already speaking up before you can.
“What the fuck is this?” he calls, and it’s so very angry. But he’s not talking to you.
He’s talking to Jesse.
Jesse merely rolls his shoulders back, attempting to settle back into his condescending façade. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“No?” He scoffs. It’s bitter and full of disdain. “Because anything you fucking say to her concerns me.”
Your heart skips.
Jesse, however, merely snorts to himself before glancing at you. “It’s a wonder you manage to get anything done on your own.”
Harry instantly strides closer, and you suddenly feel safer. Relieved to be near him again and desperate to feel him. To wrap yourself in his arms and never let go. To make things right. 
But not once does he look in your direction. Instead keeping his focus on the man near the mat as he approaches. “Don’t fucking speak to her that way,” he nearly growls. “In fact, don’t speak to her at all.”
“Or what, hm?” The haughty cadence is back. “Do you really think you have any power outside of this ring?”
“I think I can knock your fucking teeth down your throat anywhere I goddamn please.”
“How incredibly barbaric.” Jesse’s brow cocks upwards. “Is he like this when he fucks, too?”
This question is directed at you, and no sooner has it left his mouth does Harry suddenly surge forward, grab him by the collar, and slam him back into the ring.
You gasp – or maybe you scream – before Harry removes one hand in order to send it flying straight into Jesse’s nose.
Blood is everywhere. Dripping from Jesse’s mouth, smeared across Harry’s knuckles, splattered along the concrete floor.  
And you want to intervene. Want to do anything that might make you feel a little less useless, but Harry is delivering the second blow before you can decide.
“You fucking—” Punch. “—piece—” Punch. “—of shit.” Each comment is swimming in vile contempt, his expression livid and incensed. 
You’ve never seen him this outraged. Didn’t even know a person could hold this much resentment, but it sends chills down your spine.
“Harry,” you murmur, taking a tentative step closer. “Harry, wait—”
“After everything you’ve fucking taken from me,” he sneers in Jesse’s face, “you wanna take her, too?”
Jesse’s only response is to suck in a large gasp for air that becomes gargled by the blood in his throat, and you feel sick. 
“Harry,” you try again, grasping onto his other arm in an effort to tug him back. “Harry, wait, there’s another way—"
He brushes you off almost too easily. “And now—” Another hit, this time to Jesse’s stomach. “—you think she can save you? You think you can use her to get what you fucking want?”
He sends his busted knuckles straight into Jesse’s teeth, and your insides twist.
“Harry, stop,” you plead, yanking on him a bit harder. “I found another way, okay, please—”
“You fucking think…I’m gonna let you use her?” he seethes before pulling his arm back for the next hit. “You’re out of your goddamn mind—”
Without much thought, you suddenly rush around him, and place your hands on his chest. Wedging yourself between the two just before he can land the next strike to Jesse’s jaw.
It’s stupid and it’s impulsive and it’s rash, but it works. And it’s the only thing that seems to pull him back from that treacherous edge as his eyes find yours and his arm instantly drops. 
It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and you want to cry. Because he’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before. Void of any emotion or understanding except for the realization that he doesn’t want to hurt you.
“Harry,” you whisper, and his name cracks from your throat. “Harry, please, I…I found another way. Okay? He…you don’t have to do this—”
“I know. I want to,” he replies, still rather hostile.
“But I don’t want you to,” you argue. “Okay, I think we can get out of this. There’s a way to get him out—”
“I don’t want a way. I want to fucking kill him.”
“Harry, you…” You suck in a quick breath and move closer, nearly gluing yourself to his tense frame. “He’s outsourcing the bets. He’s stealing money from the fights, okay, and we can get him out.”
He looks surprised for all of a minute before the look suddenly vanishes and he attempts to brush you away. “I don’t care. He deserves this.”
“Harry,” you nearly gasp, “if you do this, they’ll kill you. Okay, and I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you—”
His features soften, although he still begins to push past you. “You’ll be all right—”
“Stop, just listen—"
“Cherry,” he warns now, “get out of the way.”
“Harry, please, don’t do this. You can’t do this—"
“I don’t care. Move—”
“Harry—”
“Cherry, move—”
“I love you.”
He stops. Seems to freeze right where he stands, but you barrel on. Clutching onto his dark, familiar hoodie as though trying to grab at his heart.
“I love you,” you repeat in a strained whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I lied, I…I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was helping, or…or doing what was best, but it wasn’t – I wasn’t. I wasn’t, and I’m sorry.”
He says nothing. Blinks. Doesn’t move.
“And I love you.” You suck in a shaky breath as the tears fight their way to your waterline. “I love you so much it makes my chest hurt, and I can’t lose you, and…and please. Please don’t do this.”
And you’ve never felt so vulnerable or afraid. And not because of his silence, but because you’ve never loved anybody the way you love him. And you’ll understand if he no longer feels the same or if he’s changed his mind. If he wants to punish you for your lie or for your attempt to say it now.
Instead…he moves to rest his hands over yours. Keeping them over his heart before dipping down…and kissing you.
And it fixes everything. Absolutely everything. Because it’s perfect and familiar and so incredibly Harry.
And you’ve missed him.
You feel an arm slowly snaking around your lower stomach, and you begin to smirk against his lips before you realize who the arm really belongs to.
It yanks you back, ripping you away from the man you love until you’re cemented against Jesse’s chest.
Something cold and sharp is settled against your throat, and you take in a quick gasp for air. 
Harry attempts to remain calm as he’s forced to watch, but you can see the edges of his sanity coming loose. Jaw clenching, teeth gritting, brows furrowing. His shoulders are tense beneath his sweatshirt, his hands are balling into fists, and his head is cocking to the side like he’s debating whether or not to lunge.
Jesse merely laughs in your ear. “This is so fucking pathetic. And so goddamn cliché, sugarplum. Is this really what you want? Him?”
You squirm a bit in his hold, and Harry takes a brave step forward. But almost instantly, the blade of the knife begins to press further into the soft skin of your throat, immediately forcing Harry back with a dark scowl.
“Easy,” Jesse warns as you both go still. “Come on, now, I think you both know better than that.”
“Jess,” you pant, reaching for his wrist. “Jesse, please—”
“It’s so simple,” he continues, ignoring your attempt. “So fucking simple. Just win the match. Win the goddamn match and you get to go home."
“I don’t fucking care. Let her go,” Harry seethes. “This isn’t about her—”
“Except that it is.” Jesse’s smirk widens. “Of course it is. You wanted to leave to protect her, so you will stay to protect her. You made it about her, dear Harold. I’m only following your lead.”
Something shifts now in Harry’s expression, and it nearly ruins you. He looks…lost. So very lost and helpless. Like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do without you.
Jesse presses his nose to the side of your cheek, and you feel the warm blood smear across your skin. “So, if you wanna take this away from me, then I have no problem returning the favor.”
The knife is pulled taut to the curve of your throat, and you hiss, making Harry’s face pale.
And when his eyes finally flitter to yours, you realize what you have to do.
“Harry,” you whisper, nodding once. Subtle enough to go unnoticed by the man behind you before you smile gently. “It’s okay.”
You’re not sure he truly understands, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. He will soon.
So, you slowly lift your arm until you can bend your elbow, only to send it flying straight back into Jesse’s stomach.
It’s not enough to really harm him. In fact, it’s hardly enough to even surprise him, but it does distract him just enough to loosen his grip on the knife. Giving you the room you need to spin around in his hold and deliver your fist to his face.
The shock of the blow seems to do more than the strike itself. But he goes stumbling back, nevertheless, and the moment his arm has dropped from your waist, Harry steps forward and rips the knife from his hand. 
Once it’s in his possession, he grabs onto your wrist, and wrangles you behind him.
“Don’t ever…” he begins, stepping closer until the tip of the sharp blade can rest just beneath Jesse’s jaw, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”
Jesse says nothing. He merely stares through his swollen eyelids and bloodstained lashes. 
“You’re no longer Harry’s sponsor,” you add. “And you’re no longer a part of the league. Do whatever you have to do to get out. Or we’ll do it for you.”
Harry smirks, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so smug.
When Jesse doesn’t answer, the weapon is nudged further into his bruised skin, forcing him to suck in a sharp breath as he finally grits, “Fine.”
Satisfied with his response, Harry lowers the knife, and steps back just far enough to let Jesse slip by. And the two of you watch as he stumbles toward the door without a single glance before disappearing into the parking lot.
Leaving you both behind.
The moment he’s gone, Harry turns to you, wraps his arms around your waist, and hoists you into the air. Keeping you snug in his embrace while you squeal and fling your arms around his neck for stability.
“Oh, that’s my fucking girl,” he nearly groans, and you laugh. “M’so goddamn proud of you, baby. Never seen something so fucking hot.”
You dip down until you can nuzzle your nose with his. “Well, I learned from the best.”
“Yeah? Good.” His grin nearly splits his face. “Can I please take you home now?”
And you nod so quickly, you’re nearly dizzy.
“Yes, please.”
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“Okay, easy. Easy, sweet girl, deep breath. I’ve got you, yeah? Know it hurts, but it’ll be over soon.”
With a sharp exhale, you motion your head up and down, allowing Harry to pull your hand closer in order to continue dabbing the alcohol swab over the torn skin of your knuckles.
His tiny bathroom falls quiet as you sit on the edge of the sink. Him between your legs, attention trained on your bruise. And while the sensation is rather uncomfortable, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so cared for. So…fulfilled and secure.
And you realize, this is how you were always meant to feel. 
With him.
“It’s gonna sting for a bit, but I’m almost done,” he promises, eyes softening when he sees your pained wince. “You’re being so good for me, Cherry, I’m so proud of you.”
You pout and it makes him chuckle. “You made it look so easy.”
“S’cause it wasn’t my first time.” He reaches for the gauze. “And we already know how I feel about pain.”
With a smirk of your own, you jut your chin toward him. “Yeah? And how are you feeling now?”
“Now?” His expression is wicked as he now leans just close enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Now…I feel fucking insatiable.”
You waste no time kissing him. In succumbing to his games and his endless teasing. You kiss him, and you don’t care if that means he wins, because you’ve never needed anyone or anything more.
And he’s so entertained by your desperation. His own bandaged hand finding your cheek as you sigh against his tongue and settle into this moment of adoration. 
When he pulls back, you’re winded.
He goes back to work dressing your knuckles, wrapping the white gauze around and around until your torn skin is thoroughly protected.
And you watch him as he does this. As he sweeps his thumb gently along the ridges of your hand before bringing it to his mouth in order to leave yet another kiss.
“There,” he murmurs, trailing his lips across the fibers. “All better.”
It’s the most beautiful and romantic thing you think anyone has ever done for you, and your heart lodges in your throat. “Harry?”
“Hm?”
“…do you hate me?”
Surprised, he instantly straightens up and leans back. “What?”
“Do you…do you hate me? Because of what I did? What I said?” You attempt to ward off the influx of impending tears, but you can already feel the first one slipping free. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”
His expression immediately drops as he reaches up to grasp onto your face once more. Thumbs brushing quickly along your warm skin as you sniffle. “Cherry…I could never hate you. Ever.”
“But maybe you should,” you whisper. “I hurt you, and I lied to you, and…and I don’t deserve you—”
“Baby,” he breathes, surging forward to press his forehead to yours in an effort to silence you. “Don’t ever fucking say that again, do you hear me? I know exactly why you did it, and I could never be mad at you for that. I was only hurt because I didn’t want to lose you. But you were only trying to protect me. I know that.”
“I said I didn’t love you,” you nearly croak. “I said I loved him. After everything you’ve done for me—”
“You had to,” he interrupts, and his understanding only hurts more. “Cherry, you had to. It was the only way, and I know that. I knew it then, too. You’ve only ever tried to protect me, and I wasn’t letting you.”
You grab onto his wrists and vow to never let go.
“And it’s not fair that you were put in that position,” he continues. “It’s not fair that you were forced to make that call, and it’s not fair that I dragged you into this. You were expected to choose between somebody you’ve known your entire life and somebody you just met. That’s not fair, and I never should have made you—”
“It wasn’t a choice,” you hiccup. “It was never a choice. It was always you.”
Those pretty pink lips pull back into the softest grin you’ve ever seen. “You were trying to save me, sweet girl. I know that, and I will never, ever hate you. I love you.”
I love you. The three best words you could ever hear, and your first sob wracks from your chest as you fling your arms around his neck to kiss him.
He kisses you back, but it’s soft. And sweet. And meant to convey exactly how he truly feels. 
And it works because this is all you’ve ever wanted. Just him, and this moment, and those three words.
“Easy,” he warns through a strained breath. “Baby, careful—”
“Please,” is all you pant. “Harry, please, I can’t…I can’t wait any longer, please.”
And he nearly coos with amusement as he nuzzles his nose under your jaw in order to paint more kisses along your throat. “Can’t wait, hm? But what if I want to make this special?”
“It is. Is special—”
“Cherry,” he chuckles, “it’s all right. M’not going anywhere. We don’t have to rush, all right? S’been a long day and I don’t expect anything—”
“But I do,” you huff. “I’m ready, I want to. You’ve made me wait long enough.”
He laughs a little louder now, leaning back in order to see you. “I’m just trying to take care of you, sweet girl. We didn’t wait this long to throw it away because of him. I want this to be good for you. I want you to be sure that this is really what you want.”
And you appreciate the sentiment more than you’ll ever be able to explain. But right now, there is only one true way you want to spend the rest of this horrid day.
So, you lift your leg and hook it around his hip, pulling him back between your thighs with a pleading look.
In turn, he smirks, fingers returning to your chin with a playful squeeze. “Thought I was the insatiable one.”
“We’ll take turns,” you exhale before surging forward to kiss him again. Capturing his lips between your own and savoring the feeling you never thought you’d feel again.
And you can see his resolve crumble. Can see the way his eyes fall shut, the way his chest rises and falls beneath his dark shirt, the way his hands grasp onto your waist to keep you close.
He’s hungry. Ravenous. Losing the fight before it even begins, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Because now – now – he can have you. He can give you exactly what you want, can be exactly who he wants to be for you.
“Where do you wanna be, baby?” he asks through teasing nips to your neck. “The bed? The couch? D’you wanna go back to your apartment? Might feel more comfortable for you—”
“No, I don’t care,” you interrupt anxiously. “I don’t care, I just want you.”
He grins against your throat. “My greedy girl,” he murmurs, and your stomach flips. “Let’s go to the bed, yeah? Wanna lay you out and see you.”
And you want nothing more than to let him.
Regretfully, he pulls his lips from your skin and steps away, and you feel like you might die without him. But he’s quick to remedy this by taking your hand in order to help you hop down from the sink. Leading you out of the bathroom and through his apartment toward the bedroom.
His apartment isn’t what you expected. Although, truth be told, you didn’t know what to expect. It’s a bit bigger than yours, but there’s something…empty about it. Hollow, almost. The furniture is scarce, the colors and décor are few and far between. It doesn’t even look like anybody lives here, something he pointed out the moment you entered.
“Hardly spend any time here,” he’d said as you glanced around. “S’just a place to sleep, really. It’s never really felt like a home…until you walked through the door.”
And it was wildly cheesy, and perhaps a bit lame, but it was everything. 
His bedroom doesn’t seem to be any different as he leads you inside. The walls are a dark grey, and his bedding is a similarly dark shade. He’s got one chair and one dresser. It’s quite clean, all things considered. No clothes lying on the floor or towels slung over the closet door. 
It’s so very…Harry.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as your eyes flicker about the room. “Know it’s not very romantic.”
But you merely grin as you shake your head and grasp onto his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”
His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You drag him toward the mattress before plopping down rather contently. “It’s so you. And I love that.”
And he only smiles before chasing after you and wrangling you into his arms.
It’s a faster dance from there. His hands and lips are everywhere they can reach. Slipping up the backs of your legs, ghosting over the curve of your hips, pulling at the zipper on your dress.
You merely settle in his embrace and allow him to take whatever he’d like. To touch and kiss each lingering thought away until all you know is him.
He’s careful but practiced. Treating you with the same adoration and gentle precision as he always has. And you’re so very thankful to feel so safe in his arms. A kind of security you weren’t sure you’d ever find in a partner the way you have him.
With anyone else you’ve ever been with, sex has always been transactional. A means to an end. This thing that you do to get off and nothing more. And despite your submissive preferences, there have been times when you truly felt powerless to your partner. Simply…there. Until they decided they no longer needed you.
But Harry…
He looks at you like your body is sacred. Like he’s undeserving of being so close to you. Of getting to touch you, hold you, feel you. Completely in-tune to every noise you make and every flutter of your lashes. Constantly on guard for your enjoyment and consent so he never goes any further than you want him to.
But you know, undoubtedly, that no matter how far he goes…it’ll never be enough.
You want his everything. His all. Anything he’s willing to offer, and you imagine you feel about as grateful as he looks to be here with him like this. To witness this kind of tender reverence.
He settles onto his back and pulls you on top. Placing you in a straddle over his waist until he can gaze up at you. “You okay, Cherry?”
You nod quickly – breathlessly – before resting your hands on his chest to brace yourself. “Just excited.”
His smile is boyish and charming, showcasing that familiar dimple that makes your cheeks warm. “Good. Want you to be.” He rubs soft circles into your hip before his brows furrow. “Y’know what I just realized?”
“Hm?”
“I still don’t know your name.”
And despite it all…you laugh. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
You smirk. “I still want to be your Cherry.”
He chuckles as he squeezes your sides and drags you closer. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs as you dip down to kiss him. “Always.”
With a soft smile, you trail your lips from his cheek to his ear, whispering the forbidden name almost timidly.
And to your surprise, he only grins wider. “That’s beautiful, sweet girl. S’perfect, too. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You feel the blood rush to your face as you bury your lips against his throat and gently tug at his skin. “Okay, all right.”
“I mean it,” he insists, palm slipping around the back of your neck to tug you back out. “Cherry, you’re beautiful. I don’t say it to say it. I look at you…and I feel like I can’t breathe.”
And maybe they are just words. Maybe they’re meant to make your insides twist and make your heart swoon. To be romantic and suave.
But you believe him. Because you can see in his eye just how much he means it. Can feel it in your stomach that he’s never been as honest as he is right now.
Further proving that everything in your life…has led you to him. Every decision, every regret, every mistake. It brought you right here, to this moment, in his arms. 
You don’t waste any time on replies or longing looks. You kiss him, and you resume this frantic dance, and you beg him to make things better. To ease this ache in your stomach as well as your heart.
So, he does.
Nimble fingers pull at the zipper along your side, loosening your uniform until he can guide it up and over your head. Only stopping once to whisper, “S’this okay, baby? Can I see you?”
You nod almost impatiently. “Yes, yeah. Whatever you want, promise.”
“Hm. Careful what you wish for, sweet girl,” he hums warningly. “Or I might just take you up on that.”
The moment your frame is revealed to him, he nearly groans. Allowing his hands to smooth up and down your shivering silhouette as you anxiously wait for more.
However, instead of allowing him the time to indulge in your body, you begin to tug at his sweatshirt. Silently requesting he reveal himself to you, too.
He smirks. “All right, hold on.”
He barely has a chance to sit up before you’re reaching for his hem in a desperate attempt to remove it. Making him chuckle as he grabs onto his collar before swiftly pulling it over his head. 
And you nearly sigh. Because he’s so ethereal to look at. Every ridge, and tattoo, and scar. The way he breathes, the way he flexes. You can’t help but reach for him, skimming your fingers down the dips and curves of his toned chest and stomach almost reverently as a breath catches in your throat.
And he lets you. Studying you closely while you study your hand. A moment of silence passing before he mumbles, “Baby?”
“Hm?”
He reaches up to tuck a bit of hair behind your ear. “M’gonna have to stretch you a bit before we start, okay? Don’t want to hurt you.”
“Okay,” you answer almost too quickly. “That’s fine. I’m not worried.”
He seems amused. “I know you’re not, but I am. You know I’d never want to hurt you. And I just want to make sure we go at a pace you’re comfortable with.”
There’s an odd sort of fluttering in your chest as you scoot closer and slip your fingers into the curls on his neck. Stroking his roots in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m okay with any pace as long as it’s you.”
“Promise?”
You nudge your nose against his. “Promise.”
Finally, he seems satisfied. “Okay, sweet girl. Then can you lay down for me?”
You’re on your back before he can even finish the question, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his and drag him along with you.
“Cherry,” he laughs again, and the sound is like music. An orchestra of joy and infatuation that you can feel all the way down in your toes. “Can’t be that greedy, can you?”
“I can,” you pant, hips bucking up as he reaches for the silk around your waist. “Just please…”
“Please,” he repeats thoughtfully, pulling his focus to the material he’s slipping down your legs. “You really are my sweet girl, hm?”
Another nod. “Mhm.”
“Guess I have made you wait, yeah?” He discards of the delicate panties before smoothing his palm up the inside of your thigh. “Made you sit and be good?”
“Harry…”
“And you have been,” he muses, ignoring your mewling. “Been so good for me. Think I need to show you how proud I am. And apologize for being so mean to you. For making you go so long without.”
He moves to settle between your parted legs, one hand beside your head to brace himself while the other travels down the expanse of your stomach. Calming the trembling skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reaches what he’s looking for.
He looks at your face first. Examines your expression and the flutter of your lashes. Stilling just long enough to listen to you breathe. “It’s okay, Cher. I’ve got you.”
You run your fingers through his hair and smile. “I know.”
His thumb is the first thing that finds you. Ghosting gently over your clit and down in order to prepare you. Ease you into the sensation.
You take in a satisfied inhale that melts into a whimper and he grins.
Pushing through your folds, he slows when he finds your arousal. Glancing down to see it for himself. “So warm, baby. Missed this.”
“Missed you,” you nearly whine, and he seems pleased.
The tip of his digit pushes in just far enough to tease you but not enough to satiate you. Leaving a rather hollow feeling in your stomach the moment he pulls back out.
You just about slump into the mattress. “Harry…”
“M’just trying to be gentle,” he says. “And I wanna take my time. Wanna really feel you. Remember this moment.”
Your heart swells. “How oddly sentimental of you.”
He shrugs before pushing the finger back inside. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”
Your back instantly arches from the bed when he reaches his knuckle. And the gratified look he wears seems to worsen this untamable ache.
“There you go,” he coos. “See? One’s not so bad.”
His pace is slow to begin. Torturous in a sense, but he knows that. He wants to work you up, make you squirm. Have your pleas falling from your tongue like water from the sky.
And of course it works, it always does. You weren’t sure what else you expected, but as he continues this steady rhythm, you feel your sanity slowly begin to come undone until you only have one choice.
“Harry…Harry, please, can’t…can’t—”
“What, sweet girl? Need more?”
Your head quickly motions up and down. “Please…”
“All right.” He pulls back before going again, this time with a stretch a bit more prominent. “Know you can handle two, yeah?”
And he’s right, you can, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t nearly ruin you to do so. Because while two is decidedly much better than one, it’s still not nearly enough. And more importantly, it’s not the one thing you really need.
You pull harder on his hair while you writhe beneath him. Eyelids growing heavy as the sound of his fingers driving into your pussy grows louder. “Harry, please—”
“Shh.” He dips down and trails his lips along your cheek. “Gotta let me do this, baby. Just a bit longer, yeah?”
“Can’t…can’t wait—”
“Yes, you can.” His tone is firm but kind. Encouraging. “Know you can. Let me make you feel good.”
He begins to go faster. Thrusting into your cunt until your pulse is racing at about the same speed. 
And he’s beautiful. He’s so goddamn beautiful, it makes you dizzy. Hovered over you on the bed, muscles flexing with each roll of his arm. There’s a soft glow behind his head from the light of his window, illuminating his curls like a halo.
It’s rather fitting, you realize. After all, he is your guardian angel.
“Breathe,” he instructs, kissing down the curve of your throat before finding your chest. “Almost done, yeah? Doing so good for me, look so pretty taking my fingers. Know you’re gonna be so beautiful taking my cock, hm?”
Again, he dangles the image right in front of you, only to take it away before it can fully render. “Har—”
“Shh,” he says again, mouthing at the swell of your breast that’s being pushed up out of your bra. “Gonna give you another. Want you to be still for me, okay?”
With a rather disappointed huff, you oblige, watching as he scoots back just far enough to get a better visual.
Three fingers brings you to the gates of heaven. As does that look in his eye when he sees the way your pussy stretches around the larger digits. 
You can quite literally see the groan leave his body as he stares at you, lips parting in mesmerized bliss.
“You okay?” he manages to ask through a strained exhale.
“Yes,” you pant. “Can take more, I promise.”
“More, hm?”
“Yes…yes, please…”
He only hums.
Seconds go by before you’re gasping for air. Nails scraping down his scalp in desperation as he works you open. He’s incredibly focused, proud of the work he’s doing, and of the way your body bends to his will.
“There we go,” he praises softly. “Just like that. So fucking wet, sweet girl. Know it must ache.”
“It does…it does, Harry, please—”
“Got an itch you can’t scratch, yeah? Need me to reach it for you. Need me to fix it.”
“Please…”
“Almost, baby, almost.” 
You feel the fourth begin to push in and you suck in a sharp breath.
He stops. “It’s okay,” he murmurs soothingly. “Gonna take me like a good girl. Already doing so good, just a little more. Relax for me.”
You do your best to obey, allowing your limbs to fall limp beside you, despite the tightening of the coil in your stomach.
Even still, it works just enough to allow him more room. Slipping in the added digit until you see stars.
The pumping is loud and driven. Truly an exercise in restraint – for both of you – as the pace begins to quicken and the noises begin to increase.
Then, he brings his other hand into play, and brushes his thumb over your clit.
And you don’t mean to – you didn’t even realize you were so close – but you cum suddenly and with a rather lewd moan that makes his eyelids flutter.
“There,” he whispers, as though entranced. “There we go, good fucking girl.”
You can’t seem to get enough air in your lungs as you come down. And Harry chooses not to help as he finally removes both hands…and begins to pull you apart.
He exposes your clit to the colder air in order to dip down and ghost his mouth across the top. Releasing a warmer breath that sends chills straight down to your toes, making you squirm rather violently.
“Har…Har—” you gasp, fisting the blanket below. “Please, can’t…can’t—”
“Just wanna look at it,” he says simply. “S’so pretty—”
“Harry,” you whimper, writhing beneath his hold. “Harry, this is mean.”
“Mean, hm?” He smirks now and you want to die. “Well, I don’t wanna be mean, baby. Wanna be good for you, just like you are for me.”
You choose to take this as a sign to continue, sitting up just enough to reach for his belt and begin to tug it undone.
He laughs now, glancing down at your frantic fumbling with a knowing grin. “Cherry—”
“No,” you huff. “No, it’s my turn.”
To your surprise, he only hums. “Go ahead, then.”
You do, yanking the belt through each loop before tossing it aside and moving for his zipper. You don’t imagine you’ve ever worked so fast or so hard for something (specifically a cock) in your life.
The moment he’s able to wrangle his dark jeans down his legs, you’re dragging him back down. Ignoring his protests and his reminder that he still has one article of clothing left.
Instead, you work on ridding yourself of your own, unhooking your bra and tossing it into the same pile as his boxers.
And now, as you both settle into your nakedness together, every imperfection on display, you realize you’ve never been more content. Because baring your heart to him was far more vulnerable than baring your skin.
And because this is where you were always meant to be.
“Okay, baby, m’gonna start slow,” he repeats yet again, and you nod. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or slow down, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nearly whine. “I will, I swear.”
“Good. And…shit, a condom, do you…do you have a preference—”
“Pill,” you pant. “I’m on the pill, just go.”
“Are you su—”
“Yes, please. I need to feel you, Harry, please…please.”
“Okay, all right.” He takes hold of your hips and positions you where he wants you before settling between your thighs. “Deep breath, okay? Just keep your eyes on me, I’ve got you.”
Another nod – quicker, more frenzied.
He takes hold of his cock and your eyes nearly roll back. It looks so beautiful in his hand. Just as stunning as you remember, and even though you never imagined you’d find one so appealing, your mouth seems to water.
Your leg hooks around his hip, subtly urging him closer, and he obliges. Giving himself a tug or two before gently trailing the tip down your aching cunt.
He moves up and down to collect a bit of your arousal before he finds your hole and slowly begins to push inside. Sinking in about half an inch before checking with you.
You nearly scream. “It’s okay. It’s okay, keep going.”
“Are you su—”
“Yes.”
His mouth curls up into a knowing grin as he continues. Allowing his cock to slip even further into your waiting pussy while your walls slowly stretch open to accommodate him.
And you’re hardly afforded the chance to enjoy this newer sensation before he suddenly dips down to kiss you. Perhaps an attempt at distraction, although it’s hardly needed. Because now you aren’t sure what to focus on, what feeling to indulge in. From his lips, to his cock, to the way your stomach nearly caves in on itself. 
“Fucking shit, baby,” he groans against your tongue. “Shit, you’re so tight…feels so good—”
“I know,” you agree. “God, please don’t stop—”
“No. Never.” He sinks in a bit further and you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. “M’almost there, you still all right?”
“Yes…yeah, I’m perfect. Perfect, promise—”
“That’s my girl,” he nearly seethes before he suddenly drives forward, sheathing himself all the way.
You both still the moment he’s fully inside, his face now disappearing into your shoulder as though to brace himself.
And you wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to let go. Allowing your body the time it needs to understand this new intrusion and find pleasure with it.
When it finally happens, the stars align.
“Okay,” you pant, gently scratching at his back to garner his attention. “Okay, go.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Need more, Har, please.”
He pulls his hips back and the whimper you release is almost feral. But it seems to do wonders for him, because his expression twists into something desperate, and you feel your chest implode.
He settles into a soft, slow pace. In and out, in and out, in synchronicity with your eager pants for more.
And there’s too much happening all at once. Too much to watch, too much to take pleasure in. 
The curls that drip down his forehead, the way his body looks as it connects with yours, the feel of his mouth going down your chest.
He’s everywhere all at once and somehow, it’s still not enough.
“Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself. “Could taste you forever.”
He takes your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking at the pebbled skin before nipping at it gently.
You keen, arching from the bed until you nearly knock into him. “Har—”
He hums around your nipple, and you almost cry with frustration and pleasure.
Everything feels slow. Almost too slow but there’s something tender there. He’s not trying to fuck you, he’s trying to feel you. To mold your body to his and it’s rather effective. Because the way you crave him feels like heaven and hell all in the same second. 
“Harry,” you whisper, practically deranged as you drag your hands down his chest. Nails tracing patterns down the tattoos across his abdomen. “Please…”
The noise he makes in response to your scratching is almost animalistic in nature, and you nearly flinch as you quickly lower your arms. Upset to have caused him any pain.
“No,” he groans, lifting up to nudge his nose under your jaw. “No, don’t stop. Keep going.”
“What?”
“Keep…shit—” His rhythm falters and you can almost feel the way his dick seems to twitch. “Keep going, s’okay. Want you to scratch me. Want you to hurt me, baby.”
And somehow, this reminder of his pain kink feels almost like a blessing. “Yeah?”
He nods faintly before attempting to resume his pace, and you happily take the lead.
Your fingers hesitantly return to his broad torso. Delicately tracing the muscles as they roll beneath your touch until you gingerly begin to press in. The sharp edge of your nails dancing across the expanse of his already torn skin.
In turn, he releases a strained noise that becomes lost beneath the grateful kisses to your collarbone. And you realize how much he truly enjoys it.
He gives you complete control of his body, of his pleasure. Because the harder you scratch at his scars, the more urgent his thrusts become. Until the sounds echoing around the room begin to echo between your ears. And the slapping of his hips into yours is inescapable.
“Feels so good, Har,” you nearly cry, lifting up just enough to kiss him quickly. “You’re so good to me. Always.”
“Shit.” His eyes about roll back before there’s a sharp snap of his cock into your eager cunt. “Always gonna take care of you. Promise—”
“I know,” you sigh. “I know, I love you.”
You say it now, and suddenly, everything changes.
It doesn’t matter if he’s heard you say it before or if he already knows because the look in his eye nearly guts you. 
He’s so…happy. So incredibly happy and endlessly enchanted that he begins to grin. “You love me,” he repeats. Not a question.
You smile as well, and the sentiment seems to explode out of you. “I love you.”
And it’s perfect, this moment. This connection of two bodies and two souls into one. The way you stumbled through the dark until you found each other, and it makes sense. Everything makes sense now with him. Clarity in the truest form.
“I love you,” he echoes, and he means it. You can feel it in every thrust, every syllable, every brush of his lips against yours. “I fucking love you, Cherry—”
“Please,” you gasp, leg dropping to the bed while your arms follow suit. “Har, please—”
“Gonna cum for me again?” He begins to go faster, chasing after your orgasm. “Let me feel you around my cock, sweet girl, come on. Already feel so good—”
“Can’t…can’t—”
“Can’t what, hm? Can’t hold it?” It’s almost sadistic the way he speaks, but you know he’s merely enamored. “I know. I know, it’s okay. You can cum for me, don’t have to wait. Promise I won’t be mad.”
You aren’t sure what you’re about to do, all you know is that you never want this feeling to end. This moment, this security. You just want to touch him, and look at him, and taste him for the rest of your life. 
He interrupts your silence as a request for something more, and he offers it in the form of his dominance.
He takes hold of your wrist and hoists it above your head, pinning it to the mattress before settling his weight atop your chest. Trapping you beneath him until you have no other choice but to indulge in everything he has to give.
And you do.
“Sweet little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he purrs, teeth nipping below your ear as his fingers intertwine with yours. Holding your hand as he keeps it caged to the bed. “Spent all this time just waiting for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes…yes, fuck, Harry—”
“You were so patient. So good.” He’s growing more determined – sloppy – and your head begins to spin. “God, but you just needed me, yeah? Needed me to make it better—”
“Better,” you repeat almost mindlessly.
“Needed me to erase him—”
“Please—”
“Leave my mark. My fucking mark—”
“Harry—”
“You were never his,” he grits, and you aren’t sure who he’s really trying to convince. “You were never fucking his, you were always mine. And he knew it—”
“Shit, I can’t…can’t—"
His other thumb moves for your clit and you feel tears fill your eyes. “Yes, you can. Know you can, baby, and you will. Always do so good for me, gonna take my cum, aren’t you—”
There’s a strain on your muscles from the way they’re being stretched above your head, but you realize there’s something satisfying about the subtle pull. And when it’s coupled with a firm pinch of the sensitive nerves between the rough pads of his fingers, you start to lose it.
“There – shit – there you go,” he inhales, glancing over your face before watching the way his cock slips in and out of your pussy. Dripping in your arousal and smearing across your thighs. “Take me, just like that. Feels so fucking good, sweet girl, keep going…keep—”
You cry out and writhe helplessly beneath him. Pulling your arms from out of his hold in order to sling them around his neck and cement yourself to his chest.
And you have no choice but to succumb to the pleasure before you feel him follow.
“Fuck—” He surges forward, burying himself in you completely, moans melting into your feverish skin as you cling to each other. “Shit…I love you. I really fucking love you, Cherry.”
You smile lazily before bringing his mouth to yours. “I love you, too.”
He kisses you. All through the moment and then some. Until the sun has disappeared and the moon has been hung between the stars.
And you know that you have never been happier than you are in this moment, right now.
Just you, and him, and a pussy full of cum.
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“Darling, we've got some at table six, could you go check on ‘em?”
With a quick nod of your head, you readjust your apron, and grab the notepad Owen is sliding toward you before slipping from the kitchen. 
You find the eager customers waiting just beside the counter and take their order with a charming grin and a promise to slip them some leftover pie.
The diner isn’t too busy tonight, and you’re grateful. Now that you’re on dessert duty, you spend a majority of your shifts working on new recipes and finalizing the specials for the coming week.
Truth be told, you rather enjoy this new task. It keeps your mind occupied and your thoughts from drifting.
And baking is your happy place. Your sense of calm amidst a sea of uncertainty, almost rivaling your own true source of serenity.
Harry.
Once you’ve returned to the kitchen, you sneak a glance at the clock. 12:06 A.M. He should be here soon. Probably tired. Perhaps a bit stressed. Hopefully no worse for wear than usual.
Fight nights always tend to leave you on edge. You know he’s more than capable of taking care of himself, but you can’t help but worry. It’s what you do best.
Still, you’re happy for him. Because while pies are your happy place, the boxing ring is his. He’s only ever wanted to fight – to make money, channel his anger into something good. And perhaps it’s not a sustainable lifestyle, but for right now, it’s what he wants to do.
And you respect his choice. You’ll respect any choice he makes, as long as he’s the one making it. Instead of it being made for him.
Besides, without Jesse there, you find that Harry tends to have a lot more fun. He leaves the fights with a busted lip but a bright smile, and it makes your heart swell until it feels as though there’s no more room in your chest.
Last you heard, Jesse left town. Harry refused to tell you what really went down at the club once the other members found out, but you decided that was probably for the best. No matter what fond memories you still have of your childhood friend, he’s not who he used to be. And you won’t ever be able to change that.
But for the first time in a long time…you’re okay with that.
The clock continues to tick the seconds away, and with each passing one, you grow a tad more anxious. Your guardian angel is late. At least by a few minutes, and you scurry about the diner as your thoughts race about a mile a moment.
And then, just as you’re readjusting the cake stands and tidying up the dessert display, you see it.
Your not-so-strange stranger is here.
He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.
He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in that familiar, white gauze, and are stained with streaks of red.
But he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.
And you grin wider than you have all day.
“Hi, Cherry,” he calls the moment his head lifts, allowing you a better look at his stunningly damaged face as you scurry closer. “Missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” you nearly giggle, slipping off your apron before sliding into the seat across from him. “How was it?”
“Easy,” he snorts, but there’s a sparkle in his eye. “And I have good news.”
“Oh?”
“M’off for the next few days. Thought you could come over…and not leave.”
You laugh as you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. “I like the sound of that.”
“Yeah? Good.” He glances down at your interlocked fingers almost fondly. “Hey, you know what I just realized?”
“What?”
Now, a mischievous expression begins to form. “I never introduced myself.”
And for some reason…you can’t help but laugh.
“So,” he begins, rather charmingly as he raises your hand in order to shake it formally, “hi.”
And you really fucking love him.
“I’m Harry Styles.”
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I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END!! This has been such a fun story, and SUCH a wild ride that I feel very lucky to have gotten to take with so many incredibly wonderful people!!
Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along and left the nicest comments or notes!! I cannot tell you what it means to me!!
Harry and Cherry will def be back for extras soon, but until then...I love you 🥹♥️ Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Previous Part:
~ Uppercut*
~ Full Knockout Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
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headkiss · 2 months
Note
hellooo, hope everything's okay with you:) i was thinking of a hotch request, of bau!reader being "his favourite" in the team (in a way that the team can see he has a soft spot for her). maybe the members of the team seeing little interactions between them two and noticing it <33 i just *loved* the one you wrote about hotch helping her in a bau party, and would love to see more of hotch protecting her and being soft with her, during the jobs as well!! thank you so muchhhh, hope you have a good day x
hiii thank u so much baby!!! this has been in my drafts since september i’m so sorry for the delay!! i hope this is okay <3 | 0.6k of fluff
Aaron Hotchner was never one to play favorites. He’s always loved his team, has always felt fond towards its members in one way or another, but none ever seemed to outrank the other.
Until you.
You’d joined the BAU as a temporary replacement, and then, you just stayed. You fit right in, which wasn’t hard to do considering how welcoming everyone had been, but it still felt like the kind of luck that isn’t easy to come by.
Hotch has felt a sort of pull towards you ever since you stepped into the bureau, your shirt a little wrinkled, smile nervous and beautiful. He’s grown to feel for you in a way that doesn’t compare to how he feels towards the others. It’s completely different; incomparable.
Even now, over a year since you’ve joined the team, Hotch can’t help but feel like he has to protect you, has to make sure you’re okay.
The others know it, too.
Derek has taken to doing his very own Hotch impression, a lovestruck version of him, that is. Spencer tells Aaron daily that he should just tell you how he feels. Emily likes to say, ‘you’re going soft, Hotchner.’ And all he can do is fight a smile and shake his head.
Even now, in some town in Indiana, Aaron can’t help but look for you in the busy station. It’s early in the morning, he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. One for him, the other for you.
“Aw, thanks, you shouldn’t have,” Derek says, reaching for one of the coffees.
“You know that’s not for you, Morgan.”
Pretending to be hurt, Derek walks off towards Spencer, a ‘can you believe him?’ look on his face. Hotch vaguely registers Spencer’s voice saying something like, “I believe that’s what they call favoritism.”
Then, the conversation goes quiet for Aaron’s ears, because he sees you. You’ve got a sweater on today, the sleeves long enough that only your fingertips poke out. His feet are walking towards you before his brain processes it.
Before he reaches you, an officer from the station does. “Hey, miss, reporters aren’t allowed inside.”
You take a step back, eyebrows furrowing at the man questioning your presence, “I’m not a reporter. They cleared me at the door.”
“Nice try, sweetheart, I’ve heard it all before-“
“Agent,” Hotch steps in, trying not to squeeze the coffee cups too hard. “Good morning, coffee for you.”
Your gaze softens as soon as it flicks from the officer and over to Hotch. Your fingers brush when you grab the drink from him, sparks shooting up your arm.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”
“Is there a problem here, officer?” Aaron asks, tilting his head.
“No, no, sir. Thank you for coming down and helping out.”
“It’s what we do,” Hotch emphasizes the ‘we,’ like he’s making sure the officer knows that you’re as much a part of this as he is.
The officer nods and walks off, leaving the two of you as alone as you can be in the station.
“Thank you, Aaron,” you say, nudging your elbow against his arm gently. “I totally could’ve handled it, though.”
He smiles because you’re the only one on the team who calls him Aaron. He likes it that way.
“I know, honey.” And he’s the only one who calls you honey. “But I didn’t really feel like explaining why one of my agents punched an officer today.”
“I was not going to punch him!” You laugh, your morning getting better by the second. “Maybe berate him a little. That’s all.”
“Sure it is.”
When you and Aaron walk into the conference room where the rest of the team is waiting, you’re met with the same type of stare from all of them. Knowing, expecting, secretly admiring.
You duck your head and take a sip of your coffee, forever grateful that you joined this team, that you found these people, that Aaron is beside you where you always seem to want him to be.
“They’re hopeless,” Emily whispers to Spencer.
Aaron’s too busy looking at your face to hear.
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DPXDC prompt ~Dead on main~Someone is walking over my grave
Jason sits on his tombstone and thinks about..something.
He lazily washes off the dirt that has been stuck on his army boots after the rain. It covers the year of his death perfectly. Grinning, he puts out a cigarette by using the mentioned stone. The cigarette butt throws between ugly funeral wreaths.
Danny: Hey, asshole, stop it!
Jason turns around. A very angry twink is rushing at him. The notorious crime lord does not have time to react when a fist hits him. Red Hood falls into a puddle. Shit! His favorite leather jacket!
Jason: What the hell are you doing?
Danny: No. What the hell are you doing?! Just because a man is dead doesn’t mean you must not respect him. You’re in a cemetery. Behave yourself, shithead. Or I’ll teach you manners.
Jason: You’re not from around here. Right?
Danny: So what? I doubt it’s normal to wipe your feet using a tombstone. Even in Gotham.
A malicious gremlin folds his arms on a chest.
Jason sits in a puddle more comfortably and pulls another cigarette out of his pocket. Damn, it’s wet.
Jason: If you were gothamite, I wouldn’t have to explain. It’s my grave, idiot. I do what I want with it.
Jason throws useless source of nicotine at his photo with black ribbon. The person who convicted him takes a couple of seconds to compare the vandal to the buried one.
Danny: Aw, shit, man. My bad, I didn’t mean to interrupt your break.
Jason’s eyebrow rises in surprise. From the outsider he expected more screaming and running. Not…apologies.
Jason: Yeah? Tell that to my favorite leather jacket. Now you can bury it next to me.
Bad Jason, bad. That’s not how normal people talk.
Danny: I’ll make amends. Tomorrow, okay? It’s my first working day. I’ve decided not to take my wallet. Need to find a safe route.
Jason: First day?
Danny: Yes, new cemetery guard here in the flesh. But I have not had time to meet all of inhabitants. Mistook you for a bad boy in a story. Well, it is your fault too! I understand you’re upset about death or maybe about the color of wreaths but please just put all the shit in the trash. I’m Danny, by the way.
Jason: Ha, I was wondering why there was no regular dude at work. Probably my neighbors drove him to a breakdown. He was an asshole, so no regrets.
Danny: Do you think so? Mrs Dent didn’t seem restless to me, she was quite nice.
The guy didn’t seem to catch the joke. Or was crazy. Why are all the hot people in Gotham are? Doesn’t matter. Why not try, right?
Jason: Don’t worry about the money. You can repay me with something else.
Danny: So you regenerates the suit? Cool. What do you want?
Jason: Um, I don’t get it, but… as compensation, I’m wanna have your number and one date.
Danny: Sure, why not.
Danny looks at the headstone.
Danny:Can you go outside the cemetery...Jason? The place is romantic, I agree, but where I grew up, it’s not customary to bring a mate at the place of rest until you meet parents.
Jason: Seriously? Cheesy horror movies didn’t teach you not to mess with zombies?
Danny: Well, I’ve never had a partner who was attracted to my brilliant brain. It must be pretty nice. And I don’t mind a couple of love bites, zombie boy.
Danny’s playfully batting his eyelashes. Jason can’t help laughing.
Danny: The less fair opinion among my friends is that I’m just brain-dead idiot. But I think they just don’t understand the benefits of adrenaline addiction, miserable humans. *pretends to wipe off a tear*
Jason *pretends to sniff*: Aw, hell, you really are a brainless doll, aren’t you?
Danny: Even so, it just means I’m perfectly safe.
Jason: Don’t think so. I want a piece of you.
Danny: Then don’t be afraid that the feeling is mutual. My teeth are also quite sharp. And when I’m haunting, it’s not easy to get rid of me.
The cheeky smile has given way to a serious look.
Danny: If we don’t get along, tell me right away, I’m not good at reading other people’s emotions.
~~~~~
Red Hood may be the son of the greatest detective but blinded by love Jason realizes that his boyfriend is quite dead only after a couple of months. He used to think Danny was a little…weird. Well, who in Gotham isn’t? It wasn't a problem. But during a funny fight about ignoring Danny in favor of a conversation with Tim , Fenton goes through him to grab his phone and then shouts that 'ghosting him is racist'.
Jason was delighted that he was able to hide his surprise. His boyfriend was too sweet, but sometimes insecure. Jay didn’t want Danny to start being cautious. Evidently, Honey thought from the first day that Jason knows. Let him keep it that way. Nothing has changed.
But now Danny’s promises to haunt Joker for the rest of his life if Jason wants it stopped being just super-hot flirt. So Jason need to make sure he doesn’t sic his darling poltergeist or whoever Danny is on someone. Even if it sounds good.
~~~~~Family dinner~~~~~
Dick: How did you two meet?
Jason: That’s a great story. My brave man beat the vandal who was messing with my grave.
Bruce: What? Who dared?
Danny: Jason, stop. It’s embarrassing.
Jason: No~ My family needs to know that chivalry is dead. My hero. Jason can’t resist a kiss on the cheek.
Danny: Taking this opportunity, I want to thank you all. It means a lot that you accepted Jason even not fully alive.
Alfred: Nonsense. Of course we..He’s family, no matter what.
Danny: Until the death separates us. Even at a wedding, love is promised only for a while. In parenthood, they do not take any oath about it. You’d be surprised how little past relationships can mean to people and how easy it is to hate what we are.
Danny: Damn, I ruined the mood, didn’t I? Sorry.
~~~~~
Jason: B, with all due respect, back off. You should ask Constantine how to help Danny if his family becomes a problem. Don’t mark my babe as a problem.
Bruce: I asked. And he laughed at me and said that you are the one who need protection. not him. Your Fenton is dangerous. Ghosts of such power only emerge in cataclysms after a large burst of energy or reach this level after centuries of battles or cannibalism and battles.
Jason: Seriously, old man? My boyfriend’s not gonna eat me. I’m not Red riding hood and he’s clearly not pretending to be my grandmother.
~~~~~~
Danny: Hi, honey. what’s new?
Jason noted with satisfaction that Danny had eaten all the supplies he had prepared for him.
Jason: Nothing, but now I have an idea for great Halloween costumes for us. They are gonna drive the old man crazy.
Danny: Did you fight again? What is it this time?
Jason: Guess what, now B’s worried you want to bite off my dick or something.
Danny: First, eew, disgusting. Don’t talk about our intimate life with fucking Batman. Why would he think that? I like you whole.
Jason: Whore?
Danny: Idiot.They don’t even sound alike.
Jason: Just admit that I am an eye candy and kiss me already. I need a break from the madness of my family.
~~~~~
Later Danny blackmails Constantine for information about the interrogation from Batman.
Then he sends a short message to the group chat : Tell the future father-in-law that while Jason can cook, he is safe from me.
The chat explodes from questions of Batclan to Bruce. Jay has great brothers and sisters. Danny knew their chaotic energy could be relied upon.
~~~~~
In the morning Jason yells at Tim. Why the hell did Replacement put "Friends For Dinner" from The Land Before Time as his alarm melody?
~~~~~
Bruce *is suspicious of the ghosts at the wedding*.
GhostWriter: Do not think that we like it. The boy is involved in his own version of Twilight. Oh Ancients, I hope the Ancients don't know about it.
Clockwork aka one of Ancients: Come on, that’s sweet. And story will have a happy ending. I guarantee.
~~~~~
Jason's in a date simulator with no chance of losing when everyone thinks he’s in a horror game. Is Danny dangerous? Yeah. Did he hunt when they first met? Who knows. The main thing in the middle of the conversation Danny realised he found a creature with a similar sense of humor. So that made Jason 10 out of 10 aka soulmate and he would kill for him.
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luveline · 3 months
Note
would you ever be willing to write the day spencer and stripper!reader met in the grocery store? i’ve always loved the concept when you’ve referenced it in the story, i would love to read it👀 you’re absolutely incredible and i can never say anything not anon to you because my blog is flooding you with notes constantly and i’m embarrassed😅
thank you for your request ❤️ fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for domestic violence and workplace abuse
There's this weird organic grocery store by Spencer's place that's far too expensive, but it's a ten minute walk, so that's where he goes. (Weird in separation to organic.) 
He needs a lot of groceries now he's home for the week. Bread, vegetables, rice, flour if he wants to try and make pancakes, which he does. He also needs a new pen to write a letter for his mom, but Leaven is slightly too small for a stationery section. 
He doesn't know what he'll say to her in this one. Maybe that the cases he's going on are easy, or that he's been reading about crows. She's not feeling well lately. It might help her to know he's doing gentle things, even if it isn't true. 
No, he thinks. Can't lie to her. He never lies to his mom. 
Eggs. Sugar. Coffee grounds. He fills his cart. It'll be a lot to carry on the way home, but better to do it in one go. He likes keeping busy but he's a human being, too, and he's looking forward to spending at least sixteen hours in bed after dinner tonight. 
You look tired, too. 
Your back is turned, but Spencer knows it's you. You must live close by, he's been seeing you duck in and out for months. Usually with a loaf of bread or a single box of painkillers tucked in your pocket. You don't steal, he'd be able to tell, and he wouldn't say anything if you did, anyways. All he knows about you is that you have a nice smile when you have the energy, and your voice is like silk. Purposeful or by nature, he's yet to guess. 
You're standing by the end of the aisle near the checkouts with a basket hanging from your fingers. All you're buying today is a box of pancake mix and a bag of peas. 
Weird, he thinks with a smile. Spencer likes weird stuff. It's quirky. 
You turn to see which checkout is empty and Spencer's smile abruptly drops. 
You have a bruise across half of your face. It isn't strictly fresh —he can see the split skin on your cheek starting to close in on itself, and your purpled eye is open (though barely). You're frowning. Spencer knows how bad it hurts to get hurt like that. For a split second he can't believe someone could do that to another person, and then he remembers the hundreds of women he's had the privilege to meet at their most vulnerable, who trusted him, and he thinks maybe he's capable of helping another one. 
“Hey,” he says. 
You meet his eyes with a funny smile. “Hey. Sorry, am I in the way?” you ask, your voice stretched, thin but not weak. 
“No, you're not, it's… I see you here all the time.” 
You hold your breath. When you talk, it rushes out. “So?” you ask wearily.
“Are you okay?” 
Your funny smile fades as Spencer's had. He supposes that's the talent of cruelty. Even when it's over, it's not truly over. Your bruise still hurts, and Spencer still needs to know you'll be okay when you go home tonight. 
“I see you all the time too. We've… we've actually spoken before, haven't we?” you ask after a moment. 
“Yeah, about spirometry. I was out of breath running and–” It doesn't matter. You asked him if he was okay, and he explained that he was, just that his lungs don't hold much air on account of his own laziness, and it doesn't matter. “Are you? Alright? It's a bad bruise.” 
“It's getting better.” 
It might be, but there's something so raw about seeing you standing there in your sweatpants too big for you and a hoodie with a hole in it, purple and yellow contusion across your eyes and nose like the clumsy stroke of a paintbrush. Spencer will admit to feeling sorry for you.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks, knowing this isn't the right place. “There's the cafe at the front? Let me pay for my stuff and–” 
“I'm really okay–” 
“You had a cast on your wrist two weeks ago and now you're here with a limp and a really bad bruise,” he says softly, imploringly, “I just wanna talk to you about it. You don't have to say yes, I'm not trying to be weird, but I–” 
You cut off his mile a minute speech with a small smile. “Okay. I'm not, you know, doing anything anyways. It'll be nice to sit down.” 
Spencer knows it's dumb, but he wants to show he has good intentions. He takes your basket out of your hands and nods toward the cafe past the checkouts. “I'll come and meet you.” 
“You don't have to,” you say, gesturing at the basket. 
“The damage is done, right? This place is ridiculous.” He doesn't like the way you're holding your hip. It makes him feel sick, even though there's no proof one way or another to say you've been hurt beyond your bruising.
He pays for his things and yours and meets you at the cafe. He's half expecting you to have bolted, but you sit at a table near the entrance, completely still. 
Spencer puts his two bags under the table and offers you your pancake mix and peas in their own bag. 
“Thanks.” 
“Yeah, no problem.” 
“It was my boss.” You look at your fingers, spreading them slowly over the table top. “I’m a dancer. Sorry. I know you’re going to ask.” 
“And he hit you?” 
“Yeah.” 
Spencer knows the number for every women’s shelter in every state, but he doubts it would matter to you. He can tell already that you’d say no. He can tell you’re scared, even if you don’t realise it yourself. “Is it getting worse?”
You can’t offer him anything else. He understands how that feels. There have been moments where he desperately wanted to tell someone, anyone, what was going on in his life, but he always holds his secrets like a perpetual ache in his throat. It’s like he can’t tell someone, even if they ask. 
Sometimes he just wishes they’d ask twice. 
“You can tell me. It won’t sound stupid,” he promises. He’s in some odd place between Agent Reid and young, terrified Spencer, determined to help you, but not sure how. “It’s getting worse, right?” 
“Yeah,” you say, the weight of tears on your tongue. 
“You’re a dancer. Is he just a boss– Does he… abuse you financially?” 
You laugh wetly. “He’s not my pimp.” 
He can feel his face heating up.’“No, but do you get paid on time? Everything you earn?” 
You shake your head. “No, I don’t get paid on time. He takes a percentage, and somehow there’s always another percentage, and then discipline. And now…” 
“Now he’s hitting you.” Very badly. 
“I’m not stupid.” 
Spencer frowns gently, talks softly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you were.” 
“No, I know, but I need you to know I’m not stupid. When we talked before, you– you’re so smart, I bet you know so many smart people.” 
He’s not sure where you’re going with this. Perhaps you don’t want to talk about being hurt anymore. It must be a kind of torture to be hurting and know that that hurting will come again. There isn’t an end in sight for you, just right now. 
“Can I buy you something to eat?” 
“I have money,” you say, taking your small purse from your pocket. There are a few notes wedged inside. 
“You can’t take painkillers on an empty stomach, and you should take painkillers again soon. You had some before you came, and they’re wearing off.” He meets your confused frown with a frown of his own. “Your hands are twitching like you want to move away from yourself.” 
“You’re very perceptive,” you say in that smooth murmur. Power clawed back, he thinks. You’re protecting one of the things you can control about how you’re seen when everything else is far from it. 
“I’m a profiler. Do you,” —he tries not to sound hoity toity— “know what that is?” 
“No.” 
“I’m an FBI agent.” You’re laughing as he takes out his badge. He joins you. “I know it sounds like I’m making it up.” Spencer offers you his identification passport slowly, so you know he isn’t wielding it around to be an asshole. “I’m in the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse the way people act. That’s why I know you’re in pain.” 
You take his badge, looking between his photo and his real face with a growing smile. “If you need all that to know I’m in pain, you’re not as smart as you think,” you tease, gesturing to the mottled skin of your bruise sweetly. 
Spencer buys you both cold sandwiches from the front of the shop and a drink to wash down your aspirin. It’s awkward, he guesses, but he’s used to that by now, and under it he can feel your palpable relief. You trust him to not hurt you, if nothing else, and he can work with that. 
805 notes · View notes
srjlvr · 7 months
Text
WEVERSE CRUSH !
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YOUR favorite hobby after a busy schedule is going on weverse and trying to get jungwon’s(your classmates) attention so bad! what happens when it does actually happen? you get excited of course! but what happens when you get a reply from him every day?
OR in which you caught jungwon’s attention with your posts on weverse and now, regardless of his tight schedule and millions of fans who’s trying to get his attention, he’s only searching for your posts every day.
PAIRING idol!jungwon X idol&fan!femreader
GENER fluff , a bit of angst , comfort , type of classmates to lovers(?) but they’re basically strangers on weverse !
WARNINGS vv cringy i think , mentions of stress , awful humor and pick up lines ! (pls lmk if i missed something)
WC 4.9k+ (the longest i’ve written ever!)
NOTE this is to all of the fans that never got noticed by jungwon on weverse but do get a lot of spams💔 n e ways pls like this i worked hard on this☹️🤞🏻
NOT PROOFREAD!!
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wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 10:20PM jungwon! i had a busy schedule today but thinking about you always made me feel better🤍
“trying again?” one of your group mates glanced at you staring at your phone, “i’m just sharing how my day was” you shrugged.
“he’s got like millions of posts, you know that too” she chuckled, “instead of being online in your own group’s weverse you’re going online on your fan account”
“i’m online everyday you’re just overreacting” you rolled your eyes.
“why don’t you just talk to him in class? didn’t you say you both were classmates?” she pat your head.
you shook your head, “it’s not that easy, we’re both barely attending to class because of our busy schedule, and we basically stopped talking after a while”
“it’s the only way i can interact with him—at least hope so? idk”
“and what if he does notice you?” she suddenly asked, “what are you going to do then?”
“probably faint”
“you’re acting like a real fan right now”
“what do you mean acting? i am a real fan”
“no you’re not, you’re just crushing over him and don’t know how to properly confess so you’re using this app and hoping to get noticed” your other group mate barged in your conversation.
“i mean, you both are classmates but you’re always so desperate to grab his attention on weverse, what’s the point of that?” she added.
“it kinda like became my usual thing to do, before i log into our weverse i log into enhypen and leave a post there” you shrugged, “it’s one of my favorite things to do”
“you’re hopelessly in love” they both teased you.
“good morning!” you greet your classmates. your schedule was clean for the whole week so you decided were forced to go back to school.
your friends greeted you back and you sat at your desk.
“morning” jungwon mumbled as he entered the class.
it was a rare sight, jungwon’s never usually at school. his schedule is way busier than yours and considering the fact that you show up to school once a month, it was quite surprising to see jungwon’s presence.
“morning” you greeted back and he went to his seat at the corner of the class.
you missed him. you actually did. having a crush is more than just thinking about someone 24/7, it’s also about missing him.
jungwon is your role model, he had always been. being classmates for more than four years together, he helped you getting into the company you wanted and encouraged you to stay until you debut.
you went through all of this because of him and yet, both of you rarely even talk.
jungwon couldn’t quite explain why, perhaps it’s your pretty eyes that he gets lost while staring at them, or was it your smile that always ( no matter when ! ) lights up the world, his world.
he found himself getting all shy and closed up being around you, call it cheesy but jungwon just can’t stop thinking about you and missing you.
he tends to come to school more often these days, some might think he’s just trying to catch up with school, but truth is, he’s searching for you every day, to see you and your smile.
you sat at the front line while jungwon sat at the corner, which makes it easier for him to stare at you without you even noticing.
“should i ask him to eat lunch with us today?” you whispered to your seatmate and she nodded.
“i just don’t know—“ “morning! finally y/n we get to see you!” the teacher got in class and cut you.
after class you gathered all your stuffs quickly but stopped when you felt a figure standing in front of you,
“hey um” you coughed, “jungwon, i’m jungwon-“ he cut you off.
you froze, a bit taken aback, “no i know-“ “oh! oh right” he nodded.
“i was wondering if you’d like to grab some-“
“hey y/n! let’s go to the cafeteria!” your friends called you and you instantly frowned, “i can’t, something urgent came up and i need to go”
they nodded and left, you then turned to jungwon, “what did you want to-“ “it’s okay, never mind about that” he quickly mumbled and left.
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 11:34PM jungwon! i had school today but i had to leave early today because something urgent came up ): i missed lunch with someone i really adore and im really sad):
“hey jay! check this out” jungwon showed jay his phone. “what’s wrong?” jay asked after reading the post.
“it seems so weird! it happened to me today at school too” he coughed, “with y/n”
“y/n again? you never stop talking about her” niki joined in.
jungwon sighed, “i can’t stop thinking about her, it’s like she’s living in my mind rent free”
jay pat jungwon’s shoulder, he can see how sad is friend is and how difficult things are for him.
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: you’ll always have tomorrow to spend together!
“OH MY GOD” you froze, looking at your phone for a few good minutes until your group mates came in rushing, “ARE YOU OKAY?”
one of them held a pan in her hand, ready to attack any stalker.
“it’s-“ you tried to speak, “it’s-“
“just give me the phone!” another one grabbed your phone and looked through it.
she sighed when she realized what was happening, “really y/n?”
“what is it?”
the curious cats followed her and peeked into her phone, they all sighed when they saw what is this all about.
“i was about to experience a heart attack!! we don’t do those things y/n!”
“no but you don’t understand!”
“yang jungwon just replied to me!” you walked back and forth around the room.
“i need you to sit down and calm down!” the leader held your shoulders and dropped you on the couch, “it happened once and it probably won’t happen again, i’m really happy for you”
“if you don’t get noticed by him at school at least you got noticed by him on weverse”
“BURNNN” they all shout and giggled.
you know they were joking, your groupmates became your family in a blink of an eye. they take a good care of you, and worry about you 24/7, like good old sisters.
but what they like to do the most is to tease you, which you find very annoying, but they just find it really cute.
“i’m definitely going to keep an eye on her” jungwon said to jay who was sitting next to him, “i have no choice but to trust your instincts now” he replied.
“how was your schedule yesterday?” your classmate asked you the next day.
you laid your head on your desk and groaned, “it was pretty tiring most of the time”
they pat your head and let you off, without having any other distractions—you fell asleep.
“morn-” jungwon got into the classroom and noticed your sleeping figure.
he smiled to himself, finding you so cute and adorable with your head all smashed over your desk and your slow breaths that made him think you were choking there for a second.
“what are you looking at?” his friend put his hand over jungwon’s shoulder, “nothing, i was just thinking about something”
“y/n wake up!” you heard someone whispering. you slowly opened your eyes and was welcomed by your friends all gathered around you with a big smile, “what is it?” you uttered.
“someone got you this drink” one of your friends held out your favorite drink, “you slept through all the periods, it’s lunch time already”
you looked at your phone and gasped, “why did no one wake me up?”
“we tried, you just were in deep sleep”
“thank you for the drink, did you happen to see who that was?” you curiously looked at the drink as your friends shrugged, “we all went out to get our lunch”
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 6:08PM something really weird happened today at school! someone bought me my favorite drink and put it on my desk! do you think i should look for that person?
“look!!” jungwon, who was active on weverse suddenly noticed the post, “it’s the same person from yesterday”
jay sat next to him and peeked at jungwon’s phone, “why? did you buy y/n her favorite drink today without her knowing?” he giggled but stopped when he noticed jungwon started blushing, “you can’t be serious”
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: go search for that person!!
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i wish you good luck🤍
“AGAIN??” you shout, you sat on the couch with your groupmates and made them all jump when you shout.
“again?” they sighed, “WAIT WHAT?”
you showed them your phone with jungwon’s replies and they all joined you to the shouts.
“you know what they say!” one of them said, “third time a charm!” the rest of you completed the sentence and giggled.
“i’m going to be full honest now,” another one said, “i don’t think there is going to be a third time”
“you never know!”
the next day you got notified that your “schedule-free” week was a complete lie.
“what do you mean i can’t go to school this week? you told me i’m free!” your argued your manager.
“some photoshoots and sponsors came up, i’m sorry it’s like that” she pat your shoulder.
“how am i going to see jungwon again?” you asked your group leader.
if there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s probably to listen and give advices, that’s why you find yourself always laying your head on her lap and venting out your concerns.
“it’s not like you’ve seen him a lot before” she said, “right?”
“no but it was different this time! i was actually ready to talk to him about everything”
“what do you mean everything?”
“i don’t know i—“ you sighed, “my feelings? the way i feel whenever i look at him? everything”
“you do realize that it’d probably be weird to confess to someone you rarely talk to, right?”
“i hate that you’re right” you rolled your eyes, “i was actually ready to befriend him, to get closer to him”
“you’re so boring y/n! you should be more bold!”
“what do you expect me to do?”
“show him that you’re interested in him without being too weird and confessing your feelings” she smirked.
“but how?”
“do you know how to rizz up someone?”
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 11:39AM jungwon! aside from stealing hearts, what do you do?
“are you serious with me right now? why did you post that!” you shout at your leader who was busy laughing her ass off, “is that what you meant by being bold?”
“that is how you rizz up people now!”
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: do you normally flirt with people so easily?
“OH MY GOD??” you dropped your phone and your friend froze, “don’t tell me he replied” she gasped.
“ALMOST INSTANTLY” you nodded and kneeled to get your now broken phone.
“NO WAY” she laughed, “third time a charm!”
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: but other than stealing hearts i think about you🤍
“slap me right now” you smacked your hand over your forehead, “okay” she slapped you.
“why would you do that?”
“you asked for it!”
on the other side, jungwon was giggling at his phone, staring at it for a few good minutes, that was until heeseung took his phone away.
“hey! give it back” jungwon tried to take his now stolen phone back but heeseung was too strong,
“i saw you smiling at your phone so i thought you were texting someone,” heeseung sighed and returned jungwon’s phone, “but weverse, really?”
jungwon shrugged, “i’m just replying to fans, they’re cute”
heeseung shook his head in return, “it’s not ‘fans’ you’re talking to, it’s only one specific fan you’re replying to”
“i’ve been replying to other fans too”
“that’s what you’d like to think”
heeseung was right, jungwon does only reply to the person he said he’d keep an eye on, which is totally fine, but at what cost?
“fans are starting to think you’re dating that person secretly, you should be careful” heeseung sighed.
“you’re right, that person just interests me” jungwon replied, “i have this weird feeling it might be y/n”
“y/n? why would she be on our weverse page?” heeseung tilt his head, “doesn’t she have her own group’s weverse page to go through?”
“yeah, but some posts of her really reminds me of situations that occurred between us,” jungwon nodded, “look, a few days ago she posted something that was really similar to what happened at school!”
heeseung took jungwon’s phone again to look through the suspicious account, “let’s just keep an eye on this account”
“that’s what i’ve been trying to say!”
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 11:45AM jungwon i was so surprised when i got a reply from you and dropped my phone💔 it’s broken now!!
“that’s—“ jungwon gasped, “that’s not what i meant to happen with my response”
heeseung just giggled, “i mean who wouldn’t be surprised to get a reply from their favorite idol?”
jungwon nodded and slowly tapped his reply.
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: haha i’d be surprised if i were you too!!
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: how will i ever be able to repay you?
“now it just feels like he’s flirting back with me” you chuckled.
“you caught jungwon’s attention y/n!” your leader giggled, “notice how he’s always replying to you almost instantly? it’s as if he’s waiting to see your posts”
you shook your hand, “no way! why would jungwon wait for me to be online?”
“that my friend,” she put her hand on your shoulder, “is up to you to figure that out”
the next day you begged your manager to cancel your schedule, with the excuse of, “i have exams coming up and i need to catch up, do you want to see me fail?”
and it actually worked!
today you’re going to see jungwon and talk to him, no matter what!
you arrived at school and sat by your usual seat, putting your broken phone on the desk and laying your head over your hands next to it.
you slowly drifted to sleep, school is too boring on the morning anyway!
as jungwon entered the class he first looked over your direction, of course he would.
he smiled to himself, he always does when he looks at you.
he then noticed your phone that was right next to you, it was smashed and broken, as if it was dropped.
jungwon gasped, he opened his phone and entered weverse, searching the account he’s been keeping an eye on, and that was it.
a dropped and now broken phone, it’s a match!
he took a picture of your broken phone and went back to his seat to text his members about the shocking news.
‘it’s definitely her’ he sent the text and added the picture of your broken phone.
‘i don’t think so, just because of a broken phone?’ jay responded.
‘yes! she said yesterday that her phone was dropped and got broken’ jungwon replied.
‘it might be a coincidence’ heeseung claimed.
jungwon was about to text them back but had to turn off the phone once the teacher entered the class.
first break of the day was a good opportunity to talk to jungwon. you woke up in the middle of the second period and thought about ways to approach him.
you searched for him in the class, eyes scanning every place until you landed on his seat, of course, that’s how he usually spends his first break. in his usual seat, with a snack in one hand and in the other he’s holding his phone and scrolling through social media.
you got up, suddenly feeling bold enough to make steps towards his seat.
“hey jungwon” you let out.
he froze for a second, then turning off his phone and putting away his snack, “oh, hey y/n”
“heyyyyy” you said again.
“hey?” he questioned.
“uhm” you coughed, “sorry”
“it’s okay, is there something wrong?”
“no no!” you shook your hand, “i was just wondering”
you was about to continue but your phone buzzed, you got a notification.
“your phone’s broken” he pointed out.
shit, you thought. “yeah” you giggled, “i uh—“
“i dropped it after my members decided to pull a scary prank on me” good one.
he nodded and chuckled, “so?”
“so,” you cleared your throat, “i was wondering if you’d like to start over again”
finally!! you cheered.
“i mean, you’ve helped me a lot through my trainee days and encouraged me to achieve my dreams but we stopped talking after i debuted and i really feel like—“ you spoke too fast and jungwon cut you off, “i’d really like that”
“really?” you asked and he nodded, “really”
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 8:50PM i asked my crush if he’d like to get to know each other again today!! he’s a person that really helped me through tough times and always encouraged me! we were good friends back then but stopped talking after a while, i really thought he was angry at me for some reason, but i couldn’t stop having feelings for him, so i made the first step today and he actually agreed!! im so happy!!
“you did WHAT?” your group leader asked you.
“i did it, i asked if he’d like to get to know each other aga-“
“oh im so proud of you my child” she hugged you tightly and pecked your forehead, “you’re all grown up now”
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: well,
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i’m sure he wasn’t angry with you at all!
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: im happy that you two are starting all over again, who knows, maybe he feels the same about you ;)
“got you y/n” jungwon giggled.
“why don’t you just talk with her about it?” jake put his hand over jungwon’s shoulders as he stared at his phone.
“it’s difficult” jungwon frowned, “do i just go like ‘oh hey! i know you have a weverse account and i know your user, i have feelings for you too so let’s date’?”
“yeah!” jake nodded and jungwon groaned, “you’re no help”
“so? tell us everything” your members sat you on the couch while they surrounded you with some curious eyes.
“about?”
“about what happened at school!”
“i went to jungwon, asked him if he’d like to start over again, he said he’d love to, so we went together to get some lunch and talked about everything we missed, it was real fun honestly really recommend you to do that too—“
“did you confess, or not” they all asked.
“no why would i confess so soon”
they all sighed, “no drama, no fun!”
you rolled your eyes, “can we at least eat something now?”
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 9:27PM i don’t think he feels the same, but it was really fun to spend the day together with him, his company has always made me feel warm and comfortable.
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: im more than happy to hear that! first breaks are always so fun when you spend them with a person you like ^-^
you tilt your head in confusion, showing your phone to your members, “look at that”
they all read your post and his reply, “what’s so weird about it?”
“i never said i spent the first break together with him”
“DO YOU THINK HE KNOWS?” you freaked out, “OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD” you held your head, moving back and forth around the room.
“y/n calm down!!” your leader said, “maybe he just assumed it was the first break since it’s the first time of the day you get to spend with other people!”
“you’re right,” you breathed in, calming yourself down, “thank you”
next day you went back in track, your manager told you the next time you’d be showing up to school would be only on exams and maybe next month.
your schedule became busier than before, you barely had time to breath. going back and forth, from a phothshoot to an interview then practice and more.
you were drained and overworked, your phone hasn’t been touched ever since the last day you showed up at school, which means—you haven’t showed up on weverse a few weeks already.
you’d see jungwon only when you arrive to school to take exams, but then disappear right away after you finish them.
“waiting for a new update again?” sunghoon asked jungwon who was staring at his phone and refreshing the page every minute, “yeah” he replied.
“she’s always online around these hours” he added.
“have you seen her at school?” sunghoon asked, jungwon froze for a second, thinking about the last time you showed up at school, “only when there’s an exam we need to take”
“maybe she’s just having a busy schedule,” sunghoon shrugged, “you’re barely online when you have a tight schedule”
“right” jungwon nodded, “but i wonder if she’s doing well” he sighed and closed his phone.
the past days has been awful to you. you slowly felt yourself vanishing, like a lifeless soul walking around.
your groupmates always looks after you worriedly, you’d barely even talk to anyone.
“y/n what about eating something?” your leader asked you, “no i’m okay, i ate just a few minutes ago” you smiled.
that was a total lie, you simply didn’t feel like eating lately.
slowly but surely you stared at your phone, five minutes won’t hurt, right?
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 12:57PM haven’t been active lately and i miss being here and interacting with you jungwon! i don’t think i’ll be able to be active again so i’m here to say that you should take good care of yourself, eat your meals in time and rest when you need to.🤍 your health always comes first!!
you sighed and turned off your phone.
jungwon, who was busy staring at his phone and waiting for a new update suddenly jumped in his chair.
“finally”
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: im sorry to hear that, is everything okay?
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i’ll make sure to take care of myself as long as you take care of yourself too 🤍
he replied immediately, as if he’s the one getting a notification from you each time you post something—when it’s supposed to be the opposite.
“jungwon we’ve recently found out that you’re suffering from that illness,” niki pat jungwon’s head,
“what is it?”
“the ‘weverse crush’ illness” niki laughed and jungwon sighed.
“you can’t stop refreshing the page to see a new post from her!” jay claimed, “and you’re replying so fast whenever she does post something” jake added.
“you should just get her phone number and text her” heeseung shrugged.
“but im not sure it’s her” jungwon turned off his phone.
“all clues points at her, it’s worth a shot” sunghoon nodded.
the next day you were forced to go back to school, your school principal complained about the fact that you’ve been missing most of your classes and nearly failing in all of them.
so it’s settled, you’ll be going to school for a month sharp, without any useless inconveniences.
first day of school after a while of not being there felt like a nightmare.
you looked at the school building with horror, yet, you felt a bit excited to see jungwon again.
you took your usual seat, put your earphones in and listened to your favorite song.
when jungwon entered the class, he was surprised to see you sitting there and staring at one point of the class.
he knocked on your desk and you zoomed out, “oh, hey” you smiled weakly.
something definitely happened while you were gone, “hey, it’s good to see you again”
the teacher entered the class right away and jungwon ran to his seat.
at lunch, you stayed in your desk, excusing yourself from your friends and going back to your books to read and study.
jungwon frowned, he has to do something about it.
he went to the cafeteria and got your favorite snack, he knows it’s your favorite, he remembers.
you were so focused on your study book to notice jungwon’s figure next to you.
“knock knock?” he questioned and you looked at him, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking away.
“hey again” you closed your book and focused on him.
“i got it for you” he handed you your favorite snack with a wide grin on his face.
“thank you”
silence. it was so quiet that you could even hear the birds outside.
“is everything okay?” he suddenly asked.
“huh?”
“oh yes, everything’s amazing” you smiled.
“we both know you’re lying”
turns out you were a bad liar after all.
“i’m not going to force you to speak,” he pat your shoulder, “but i’m here for you”
those words, were enough to break you down.
you felt comfort around him, you felt everything you feel around someone you’re in love with, you felt warm, welcomed and understood.
so you told him everything, from A to Z.
jungwon is known as his group’s no.1 comforter, and he’s now your personal no.1 comforter as well.
he knew the exact words to say to you and how to make you feel better.
right when you finished crying he told you a joke, and now you were shedding tears out of laughter.
“thank you” you looked at him with comfort.
“anytime” he chuckled and stole your snack, “you’re not crying anymore so i’ll just take that and save it for myself”
you rolled your eyes and kept messing around until it was time for another class.
wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍 : 8:30PM i had the best day ever today! i saw my favorite person ever at school today, after a long time i haven’t been able to see him! i also cried in front of him (was so embarrassing) but he comforted me so well, i think i’m falling in love all over again.
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: see!! lunch time can be so fun when you’re with a person you like too!!
↳ 여의도 홍보캣 replied to wonie’s bff (REAL!)🤍: i hope you’ll be able to spend more time together in the future!!
“he definitely knows” you freaked out.
“even if he does,” your leader clapped, “what’s so wrong about it?”
“what if he doesn’t like me back?”
“he does”
“how do you know that?”
“because i just do!” she sighed, “otherwise he wouldn’t reply to you so instantly as if he waits for your posts every day”
“you’re right” you nodded.
“but what if he does it just so he could laugh at me with his members?”
“not a chance” she groaned, “stop overthinking so much and just talk to him about it!”
“so um,” the next day, you dragged jungwon out of the classroom as soon as he entered.
you had to talk about it before the rest of the day continues.
“you have weverse right…?” you suddenly asked, “oh my god that was so stupid of me of course you do you’re an idol and—“
“i know it’s you” he cut you off.
“what?”
“isn’t that what you wanted to ask me?” he tilt his head, “i know it’s you” he repeated.
“and,” you wanted to continue but couldn’t find the words.
“i like you too” he suddenly confessed.
“wha—“
you were about to respond but he cut you off with a peck on your lips, “i said i like you too”
you looked at him, making eye contact for a few good minutes, both of your cheeks are now as red as a tomato,
and as you looked at his pretty face, you could notice how red his ears became.
“for how long?” you asked,
“ever since we started talking” he smiled, “your pretty smile, your beautiful eyes and breathtaking smile, everything about you just made me think about you all day”
“then why—“ “i couldn’t talk to you after you debuted, i was so scared it might hurt your image, and i couldn’t always find the right words to talk to you,” he looked down,
“i didn’t want to look like a loser in front of you” he kicked the air like a little child.
“jungwon” you smiled, “looking like a loser isn’t something to be ashamed of” you giggled.
“i like you, in any form or any shape or whatever!” you joked and hugged him tightly.
“would you like to go on a date with me today right after school?” he suddenly asked.
“so bold of you” you teased, pecking the tip of his nose, “but yes, i’d love to go on a date with you”
“can i finally call you mine?” he held your hand.
“of course” you pecked his lips,
“don’t get confused when you’re replying to me on weverse!”
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••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.
1K notes · View notes
yoon-kooks · 1 year
Text
paired & pierced | jjk
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⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader
⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au
⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.
⛓️word count: 5.3k
⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write
⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️
a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨
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It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.
“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”
“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).
“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.
“Yep.” Not really.
“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”
You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.
“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.
“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.
Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.
“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”
You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else. 
You’re no one’s number one.
This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.
“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”
“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.
She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.
To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right. 
Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.
“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.
You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.
Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.
You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.
No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.
“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”
He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”
“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.
“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.
“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.
“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.
You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.
“And you said yes?”
You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.
After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.
“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.
“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.
“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.
You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”
“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.
“No one.”
“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”
“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”
“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?
“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.
“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.
“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”
For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.
“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”
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The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.
After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.
Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.
“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.
Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.
“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”
“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.
“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.
“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”
Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.
“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.
He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.
You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.
“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!
“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.
You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.
The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.
“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”
Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”
“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.
“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”
“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.
“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”
So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.
As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.
You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.
“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.
“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.
“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”
“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate. 
“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.
“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.
“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.
“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.
“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”
“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”
“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”
You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation. 
“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”
It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”
He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”
The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.
At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.
Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.
As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.
“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him. 
“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”
You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.
“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”
The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way. 
You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.
Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.
Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”
Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.
“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”
You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.
With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.
Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.
But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.
“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.
You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.
“Beg for it.”
“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”
“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name. 
As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”
“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”
You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.
In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.
At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.
“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”
You nod without thinking too hard about it.
“Think you can go another hour?”
Hell no, but you nod anyway.
“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”
He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.
“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”
Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.
Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?
“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.
“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.
“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”
“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.
“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it. 
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.
“Go for it.”
“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.
“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”
He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.
“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.
“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it? 
If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.
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charmedreincarnation · 4 months
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Hey guysss! A lot of people have been asking for me to make a challenge for a while now. I honestly didn’t want to, not because I’m against them or anything but because the law will be different for everyone. Sometimes, it feels like tumblr needs a reminder - you are the only person who knows what you need to do to succeed. I wish I could imprint this realization on everyone's minds. I’ve also gotten so manyyyy asks about things that genuinely just feel like your doubts repeating in your mind constantly so I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs bc y’all are spiraling really hard. I get it you want your desires for Christmas and new years. It’s okay take a breath, you're alive and will be okay.
Firstly: at the beginning I used to spend countless time spiraling into depression, constantly changing my methods every time I saw a new success story, and every time I found a new foolproof' tumblr method. Methods that were supposed to guarantee results in a day so when they didn’t I felt rlly useless. It was annoying, to say the least, and I don’t want to help others do the same thing, but really all I can do is reiterate what I always say and hope you apply it to everything!!
A lot of you guys wanted something that didn’t involve the void state, so that’s what this will revolve around! But feel free to make this void orientated if you desire, and I’ll also add a void section so all my babies can eat!
Ok so you’ve over consumed, you have dropped the void, and now have switched to just assuming and knowing that you would wake up with your dream life - embracing states. Great! At first, it will seem like you're doing nothing but you aren’t! For example, I knew I was dwelling in the state of wish fulfilled when I went to work without shedding tears, when I looked in the mirror and didn't think I was ugly because, well, I'm beautiful! I didn't care abt not performing well on a test because I could revise my past etc. this isn’t to say ignore the 3D: don’t do that, please try and make sure you’re safe and okay. But know life is malleable. Slowly, things that used to bother me—my parents, grades, anxiety, self-deprivation—started to fade away. Even though my dream life hadn't reflected in my 3D yet, I felt the switch. That's when I decided, I know what to do.
I also remember finding this cute website a long time ago that I want to share that summarizes it in such a great and simple way.
So Before I knew or understood what LOA was, I found this gem of an article on I am Love'- "How To Shift Into A State & Stay There". I think I have a post abt it somewhere on my blog but I’m too lazy to find it so here it is again.
Basically it explains that the essence of shifting into a desired state and staying there. What resonated with me was her choice to dwell in the state of knowing that her desires are hers, no matter what.
The way she used colloquial language made the content relatable and easy to understand. It's like having a conversation with a friend who's guiding you through hard concepts with “dumbed down” language because at the beginning states made 0 sense to me.
Posts like this really helped me particularly because when I discovered Neville, it required three attempts on my part to not only intellectually grasp his teachings, but also to truly comprehend him as a whole, given his non-contemporary speaking tbh.
I recommend it if you find yourself stuck or not really grasping the law yet (which is more than okay) but, if you're looking to understand the loa better or just learn more give this article a read.
There’s also a particular quote from Neville that really got me to dive into his work after finding this article and it was- “The being that you really are, descended to the weakness of the flesh, causing you to experience the state you are now in. Contemplate another state, and the same being who brought your present form into being will restore and make alive the other state, the state desired. This he will continue to do until his purpose is fulfilled. That purpose is to follow a certain pattern back into the unity of being. You see, in the beginning we were drafted. We did not volunteer to fall into these states. We were made subject into futility, not willingly but by the will of him who sent us. But when we return we will discover that we are the very being who subjected us. We are now the sons, destined to return as God the Father!”
Now that you understand and are ready to apply state, Here’s a routine I’ve created to hopefully help you guys! It is very simple and not time consuming at all.
Scripting and writing: I love writing and feeling like the author of my own story, literally bringing my creation to life. I would write when I felt like it. Whenever I wanted to dwell in my state, I would simply write, "I have my dream life." It's so simple, yet it embodies everything I need. If you’re more of a picture girl, use Pinterest instead. Or both if you prefer it doesn’t matter.
Edward arts' "I am creator meditation": Again, do this whenever you like it. It's one of the few meditations that didn't bore me to death and seemed to work with my ADHD. I also love reading, so I would read his pdf whenever I felt like it and take mental notes. Reading his work was a reminder I was doing everything right, it resonated with me very well.
During doubt and overstimulation: When things get overwhelming, close your eyes and let the emotions pass. They’re just thoughts! repeat the words "I am" until your heart returns to its normal rhythm. It's a simple yet powerful way to ground yourself amidst the whirlwind of emotions. And guess what? You can use this technique for doubt too! So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed, remember the power of "I am". It's a gentle reminder of your existence, your resilience, and your capability to be whatever you want despairs any emotional turmoil.
Thank god: (yourself!!) When reminded of your desires. Thank you god. When you see your desires, (eg:Pinterest, online or you’re just reminded) thank you god! When you see an image of your desires, thank you god! When you dream or think about your desires. Thank god! Always thank the person fulfilling it aka you ;)! If you’re religious just thank the god you actually follow.
Nightly reflections: At night, ask yourself , "What would I do if I woke up in my dream life right now?" repeat this question throughout the night. Then, imagine whatever scene you want. What would you do if you could not fail? What would you do if you had all the money in the world right now. What if you looked in the mirror and saw the most ethereal being and it’s just you? What about if you woke up in your dream house with your dream family and pets? This is inspired by one of the first shifting methods I created that helped me fulfill my imagination before I knew what that meant. When you’re ready to sleep just remind yourself it is done, and drift off into your desires.
As I've always said, I've been a great daydreamer. I knew exactly what I wanted my life to look and feel like. I envisioned my walk-in closet filled with luxurious outfits, waking up in my dream room on a soft mattress with my pets purring nearby. I saw the decor reflecting my personality in every corner of my large, and pretty room. I imagined walking into my bathroom, seeing all my cool Sephora products lined up for my skincare and shower routine. I love taking care of myself because I know I deserve it. I saw myself looking in the mirror, knowing I'm "that girl" who turns heads wherever she goes.I visualized going downstairs in my boujee dream house,and seeing my family stress-free, smiling, and eating well. I saw plans being made on my phone, my friends were excited to see and talk to me. I went to my kitchen, filled with expensive ingredients ready for me to cook meals for my loved ones - because I love cooking. I saw myself checking my bank account and seeing multiple seven figures in my savings, checking, and investment accounts and opportunities easily presenting myself to make more if I wanted. I saw myself running errands in my car, shopping, getting Starbucks, having expensive lunch with friends, and making a trip to Target. Despite the simplicity of the day, I would come home and be like, "Ugh, what a long day!"like that one khloe kardashian meme. What if all this happened today? Visualize and feel the scenes so clearly that it felt like it's already happening.. not just in your imagination.
Most importantly: Define the law for you! Stop parroting bloggers and intertwine your own beliefs with the law. The only principle of the law is that through persistence assumption will harden into a fact. Other than that anything goes except for facts that are wrong.
Here’s old notes I found in my phone lol just so you know what I mean by define the law for you: ignore the writing I was kinda dumb and new to the law 😭😭
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Now this is for my void babies if you made it this far.
Read this post.
This is it copied bc the links are wonky sometimes
“My previous method is based on the persistent assumption, which a lot of people don’t know how to do right and it might take some time even for those who have the right self-concept and the mindset, so today I was in the process of manifesting this method.
And I was successful!
This method is for everyone. It’s the easiest Void method.
Do you know that you get into the Void state at night automatically? At that time the whole perceived world disappears for you. Every single perception and assumption you have disappears while your consciousness in the calm and natural Void state.
Use it to your advantage. Now that you know about the Void that you enter when you sleep, the perfect state to manifest anything that you wish to perceive, with no “resistance”, no illusions of annoying solid things around, you only need to remember your scripted starting point in your DR and practice watching it all coming out of the Void.
Practice that scene with your eyes closed, say to yourself:”That is what I perceive. Next time I’m in the Void, I’ll experience this”. You won’t even need to be fully aware of yourself that way when you get into the Void while you are asleep. Your subconscious would do all the work as it now would have the instruction and a clear image of you expecting it.
Personal experience: as I was receiving information on this method, I almost stepped into my DR! I wasn’t even in the absolute void state, I was only creating the scene for this method and I felt it materialise with my senses!
I have great feeling that it’s going to give fast results for others! Try it, teach your subconscious what it needs to bring forth while in the Void, let it do your work for you!”
Lastly, I’m gonna talk abt my beliefs real quick bc the fear of shifting vs manifesting makes me sad for y’all. I understand you don’t wanna leave behind the people you love and that’s not fear to feel ashamed of having! I personally hate the npc mindset a lot of have people have adopted. The only thing we know for sure is that assumptions create realities, and consciousness is the real reality. Everything else boils down to assumptions, except for principles. For example, shifting is not lucid dreaming, even if you assume it to be. That is the principle. I’m just going to copy what I told my mutal bc I’m lazy and need to finish Christmas stuff 😭😭 but Our imagination and the 4D realm are products of our consciousness, which is indeed real. Our view of reality is shaped by our consciousness, since we can't experience everything all at once.
Unless, of course, you shift into a super omnipotent god. Even then, you’d probably still struggle with the concept of infinity because, well, infinity is infinite. And it’s constantly a never exnding expansion. As humans, we're finite beings, and our understanding of the infinite is naturally limited. Because you can’t and won’t ever experience everything at once, infinity is always expanding. Our awareness can be thought of as fragments of consciousness; it's like being a drop of water in a massive ocean. Even though our perception is limited, the infinite is always there, always existing. We simply adjust our awareness to perceive this infinite reality.
And through our consciousness, we are able to tap into other realities or 'multiverses', which give us a broader understanding of existence. This exploration of consciousness and the multiverse is a significant part of my journey into the world of manifestation.
The law of consciousness explains why, when you "shift" or change your perspective, you don't physically move. It's all about altering your state of awareness. This is also why time doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. You can become aware of any time or day you want, as long as you choose to be aware of it. It's like having a mental time machine. This law is why infinite universes exist. As long as you can be aware of it, you can assume and embody the state of that person. Whether that's someone with a billion dollars on Earth, or a person who lives in the Attack on Titan world, it's all about your awareness.Our awareness is just a fragment of the larger consciousness – hence the idea of the multiverse. Each universe is a different fragment, a different state of awareness. And we have the power to “shift” into any of these states, therefore shifting into any of these universes.
I’m telling you this bc there’s no need to be afraid of manifesting or being in a reality with robotic versions of the people you love. Ariana grande and Marilyn Monroe for example talk about loa without acknowledging it and we see their success. Neville Goddard and his followers saw each other’s manifestions and I manifest for my friends and they mnaifest for me.
Take a deep breath and let go of the tik tok clone mindsets y’all have they don’t exist. You can manifest and assume anything you want in your imagination. Y’all literally want to manifest things like millions of dollars, revising deaths, living in new countries, having immorality in your waiting rooms, and never aging which is all possible of course. So be for real, why assume and know that you can achieve all that, but it won't manifest exactly how you want? I've also wondered about what happens to the "old version" of people when they manifest their dream life. As far as I'm concerned, they dont exist because you choose not to be aware of them.
I really want to talk about this too, as I've received similar questions and, oh my god, I thought I was alone. I've always been a bit delusional and lived in my head, but when I became conscious of the law, did anyone else feel a sense of self-embarrassment? I don't know what that was, but I'd genuinely feel my soul wanting to throw up envisioning my desires that aren't mine, even though I've always been a daydreamer. It's kind of like when you feel you can't have them or it's strange to envision yourself with something you can't have, so you just purge yourself. 😭
I was thinking back to why that happened and laughing at myself because we need to be serious right now. Why are you getting sick by your own mind? Imagine if Van Gogh, anytime he pulled out a canvas and held a brush, was jump-scared by the brush. Picture him holding out the brush and just staring at the canvas crying because "well, the painting is going to suck 😐," "I don't know what to paint☹️☹️," "I already know it won't be like what I envision in my head 😡😡." Like, bro, the canvas is blank, just fucking paint. That’s why I really like his quote that's like...
“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” So If you’re scared of failing, if you’re scared of your desires, or scared of how it will come to fruition, for that reason alone is more so to and manifest it anyways.
But happy holidays guys! make some tea, scroll through Pinterest, read a good book and watch some Christmas films and remember if you can imagine/think your desires you can embody them bc where are you getting it from??
Here are some helpful documents I have read plus a cute vid I saw on insta reels : (let me know if the links are being weird)
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Hear me out.... Steven with a praise kink 👀
You jokingly call him a good boy (because I call him my human golden retriever) and BAM. Confused boner! You take advantage of it and keep teasing him.
(Marc and Jake would never let him live it down, either)
Ijcioajfidi HELP. THIS. AHHH. I’m not sure why chess playing came into my brain. But here we are, reader likes and plays chess and is pretty good at it.
(Side note: in one typo I wrote ‘chestboard’ instead of ‘chessboard’. You just know my subconscious is thinking about Steven’s boobs.)
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Good Boy
Steven Grant x F!Reader Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?
Warnings: INSTANT BONER, p in v sex, teasing, swearing, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!
Word Count: 2147
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“So, think about how you would stop me.” You said as you looked from the chessboard to Steven. 
His brow was furrowed in concentration, his glasses pushed high on his nose. A few rough curls dangled over his forehead as he bit softly at his thumb in thought. 
“I could move here?” 
“That’s really good.” You smile. “Excellent move, because you’ve also stopped my bishop.” You point to the piece on the board. 
Steven smiled. He liked chess, played against the computer occasionally. But it wasn’t much more than a way to pass the time. 
However when he found out that you had won some amateur competitions when you were in school, and that you still played regularly, his excitement at the prospect of playing a game with you was so completely heart-warming that you instantly said yes. 
In the first game, you’d been determined to go easy on him. Just to get a feel of Steven as a player. You’d accidentally won in less than ten minutes. 
There had been a small tinge of panic, a worry that, like some of the previous partners you’d had, he would be annoyed. Instead Steven grinned, thrilled that you’d beaten him and sung your praises until you were so positively overwhelmed you had had to kiss him repeatedly to get him to stop. 
This was your second game. He had asked in that delightfully enthusiastic way he had if you could play again, “if it’s not too much trouble love, and you want to of course, don’t want to be annoying, do I? No. But I’d love it if you could teach me some strategies?” 
“So I’m going to move here,” you picked up your knight and moved it slowly. 
Steven frowned. “But then I can take it?” 
“I know.” You grinned. 
He paused and looked at you, unable to stop himself from smiling at your glee and then nodded. “Okie dokie, there’s something I’m not seeing then.” 
“Is there?” Your innocent tone didn’t fool him for a second. 
“There definitely is.” 
You chuckled, looking back to the board. “Good boy. Look, take your time, but don’t worry if you can’t find it, I’ll explain.” 
There was a long pause. You frowned a little and glanced back to him. His eyes were a little wide, his cheeks dusted with pink. He was sitting stiffly now, his hand clenched into a fist with his knuckles pressed against his mouth. 
“Steven?”
“Hmm.” The sound was too quick. He didn’t look up from the board.
“You okay?” 
He nodded, a short sharp and very un-Steven-like movement. 
You paused for a second, looking at his features carefully as you wondered if Marc or Jake had fronted suddenly. Though, why they would try to hide it from you, you weren’t sure. 
On further inspection you were pretty sure that it was Steven. 
“You sure you’re okay.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbled and swallowed, looking through the board and not seeing it. 
“Okay…” You swallowed, watched him for a moment longer before you pointed at your rook. “If you take my knight, I’m going to take your pawn with my rook and you’ll be in check. You can’t take the rook with your queen because then you’d be in check here. So you’d have to move your king like this, and then I could move my other bishop and you’d be in checkmate.”
You looked up at him, chewing your bottom lip. Had he had enough? Was he bored? Fed up of your explanations? 
“Okay. Right. So I won’t do that, I’ll move here.” He spoke quickly, still not looking at you. 
You nodded, watching his move. “Good, so…”
The moment ‘good’ left your mouth Steven sucked in a breath, shuddering. 
A sound you very much recognised. 
Oh.
You quickly thought over your previous conversion: move this piece, are you okay, take your time, good boy-
Good boy. That was it. 
A small smile stretched across your lips. Steven was still staring, fixated, at the chessboard and didn’t notice. He moved his piece silently. 
You waited a beat before you spoke. “That’s a great move Steven, good boy.” 
He shivered straight away, his breathing hitched. He tried to cover the sound with his hand as he closed his eyes.  
“What’s wrong Steven?” You teased slowly. 
His eyes snapped up to yours, wide and embarrassed. 
“Don’t you like being called a good boy?”
The smallest groan grumbled in his chest, his muscles tensing. 
“Or, is it that you like it a little too much? Hmm? Being my good boy?” 
His skin flushed with heat as he glared at you. His eyes dark. 
“What?” You bit your lip as you grinned. “A good boy would answer questions when asked.” 
“Please.” He whispered.
“Please what?” 
“Please stop. Marc’s taking the piss.” 
You frowned, the playful tease dropping from your tone. “Why’s Marc taking the piss?” You’d done kinker stuff with all of them, Steven liking being called a ‘good boy’ wasn’t really something to write home about. 
Steven sighed, pouting a little as he closed his eyes and took his hand away from his mouth. “Because I’ve got a hard on.” 
You bit back the giggle that wanted to spill from your chest. Something about him having to close his eyes to say it was just so perfect. “So?”
“It happened the second you said it.” 
“The very second?” 
“Hmm.” Steven kept his eyes closed. Interesting.
“So literally, I said it, instant boner.” 
“Yep.”
You couldn’t resist one playful tease. “So, if you’re in a park and you hear some say good boy to their dog, is it bam, erection?”
Steven shifted a little as you said those two words, trying his hardest not to moan. His cock was pressing, painfully hard, against the stiff material of his jeans. “No.”
“No?”
“It’s never happened before. And now- Marc, shut the fuck up.” His voice was a little needy until it came time to address his alter.
“Marc behave.” You said kindly. “So… it’s only ever happened now?”
“Hmm.”
“When I said it?”
“Yeah.”
“What happens when I say it again?” You whispered. 
Steven squirmed a little, even the thought of you saying it getting him hot under the collar. “Feels… nice. Sort of.” He pushed at his throbbing cock with the heel of his hand and opened his eyes, his head slightly drooped. 
“Sort of?” 
“Yeah, like… you know, he jumps to attention every time you say it.” He blinked heavily, his cheeks burning. God, you must think he was a right little freak.
“Good boy.” 
He groaned, unable to stop the sound in time and looked up at you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t nice that you were making fun of him like Marc and… oh. 
Realisation dawned. You were biting your lip and smiling. You liked it. A lot. 
Steven swallowed audibly. 
Slowly you stood and walked around the table to stand beside him. Steven pushed out his chair a little, angling it so that he was facing you. He went to stand but you gently pressed on his shoulder. He followed your command and stayed sitting down, looking up at you with pleading eyes. 
He played at his jumper sleeve nervously as you watched him. His dick hard and pulsating with need, throbbing in time to his heartbeat. 
He swallowed again. “Love-”
“Good boy.” 
He moaned softly, screwing his face up as his cock twitched at your words. 
You bent down quickly, grabbing hold of his cheeks and kissing him deeply. Using his brief surprise to slip your tongue into his mouth and push him back against the chair. 
Steven whimpered against you, his hands coming up to hold your shoulders and the back of your neck as you ravaged his mouth and robbed him of his breath.
“Good boy.” You muttered between the kisses, swallowing his hushed whimpers and soft moans. Revelling in the way he pulled you tighter, needy and desperate for anything you’d give him. 
You brushed your hand against his groin, squeezing the outline of his cock. 
“Fuck!” Steven hissed, clawing at your top and thrusting up into your touch. The rest of his words were lost as you kissed him hard and lightly bit his bottom lip. 
You trailed your lips down to his jaw and neck, sucking at his pulse point and pushing him even further back into the seat. 
His breathy moans sent a wave of heat along your spine to your core, twisted in your belly and overwhelmed every thought. 
You squeezed his cock again, the heat of him radiating through your hand. “Good boy.” 
The words barely left your lip before Steven answered you with an accompanying groan, his length twitching against your palm. 
You moaned, so dizzily high with the sounds of his pleasure. Without thinking you undo his belt and unzip his jeans, pulling his trousers and boxers down to his calves in a hurried motion with a little help from Steven as he raises his hips. His cock springs free, needy and weeping with need. 
You take him in hand, stroking him twice before pulling his jumper over his head. He whines at the loss, chasing your mouth and kissing you urgently the second the material is off and on the floor. 
With your lips desperately pressed to his you pull down your own trousers and underwear, kicking one leg free and not bothering about the other as you take his length back in your hand and straddle his thighs. 
Him being so worked up, so desperate for you when you hadn’t even touched him is a stronger aphrodisiac that anything you’d ever experienced.
You don’t even give him a second to react before you’re lining him up with your already soaking entrance and slowly sinking down. “Such a good boy Steven,” you breathe, your voice rising in pitch at the end as he inches deeper, his thick cock splitting you so wide. 
He moans headily, pressing his face into your chest and mouthing at the tops of your breast through your top. 
“Love, you’re so wet.” He bites his bottom hip, his fingers pressing against your waist hard enough to leave bruises. 
You pull at the back of his hair slightly, scratching your nails along his scalp as he finally bottoms out. He pulses within you, twitching and aching and so, so close already. 
“You’re my good boy, aren’t you Steven?” 
He whined against you as you rocked your hips, quickly starting to lift yourself up and sink back down, setting a brutal pace as you began to bounce on his cock.
“Such a good boy letting me use you like this.” 
Steven moaned, chasing your hips and thrusting deep. He was drunk on you, needed you. Every moment, every word you said sent waves of pleasure through his body and made his head spin. 
Even in his intoxicated state his muscle memory kicked in, bucking up into you perfectly to make you see stars. Each spot that would break you apart memorised and stored deep within his very soul. 
He fucked up into you harder, growling with his desperate need. His leg kicked out and caught against the table's edge, rocking the chessboard and knocking pieces over. 
The sound just loud enough to register in his mind. “Sorry, I-“
“Doesn’t matter Steven, please,” you moaned. At this angle the head of him constantly pressed so deep, rubbing consistently over that special spot and not even giving you a chance to breathe. No pause or reprieve from the oncoming onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overtake you. 
“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whined, your thighs shaking and thrusts growing sloppy. 
Steven growled, grabbing hold of your hips and pistoning upwards, not allowing your pleasure to dip. “Please, please, please, cum on my cock, please love, please. Tell me I’m your-”
“You’re my good boy.” You came dizzyingly hard, your fingers digging into Steven’s shoulders and leaving marks. 
But he didn’t care. Couldn't care as you squeezed and fluttered around him, moaning ‘good boy’, and shaking as you fell apart in ecstasy. 
Steven gasped, the air catching in his throat, the pleasure so potent it was like his heart stopped. He came deep, hot and thick, his hips still thrusting to prolong your high and to fuck his spend deeper into you. 
You held each other tightly as you recovered, breathing hard, sweat sticking to your skin. It was only then that you pulled off your top and bra, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothing. 
Steven nuzzled into you, softly kissing along your collarbone as you stroked his hair. 
He chuckled suddenly and you moved back every so slightly to look him in the eyes. 
“What?” 
He grinned, dreamy and love sick, up at you. “Marc’s changed his mind. He’d quite like you to call him ‘good boy’ too.” 
____________________________________
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moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
soft sirius x reader pleasee 🙏🙏 either established relationship or fwb/friends to lovers vibes you decide
Thanks for requesting!
modern au
fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
“You ought to start locking the door,” Sirius calls out as he enters your flat. You tug out one earbud to hear him better. “I could be a serial killer.” 
“Right, sure,” you snark lightly, washing dishes double-time. “And you ought to start calling before you come by, but we both have our bad habits.” 
“Like you’d pick up if I did.” He saunters into the kitchen, taking in the mess and then pretending not to notice. He leans against the counter beside where you’re working. “I just thought I’d drop in and see if you have a bit of free time.”
“A bit?” you laugh. “Looking for a quickie, Black?” You stack more dishes on the drying rack, jolting forward to steady them when a bowl on the top threatens to tumble. “Sorry, no time. The kitchen’s been a mess for days, I have to clean up before my flatmate gets home from class and murders me.” 
“But she seems like such a nice girl,” Sirius muses, taking the precarious bowl and drying it with a towel. “Anyway, doesn’t your flatmate’s last class end at, like, six? It’s hardly three.” 
“It’s weird that you know that.” It’s not, really. You know a freakish amount of details about his life, too, but it’s easier to keep up the casualness of this arrangement if you pretend you’re not quite as close as you are. You go into the living room, collecting dirty dishes and talking whilst you walk. “She does, but I have to revise my essay, and if I don’t get this done before I start on that, it won’t be finished before she gets home. I’ll forget, I know it.” 
“Hm.” Sirius takes the kettle down from its cabinet, nudging you aside to fill it from the tap. “Why do you have to revise your essay tonight?”
“Because it’s due in three days,” you explain, taking his place at the sink as soon as he’s out of the way to dunk more dishes in the soapy water. “And I have another essay due in four days, so if I don’t work on this one now, I won’t have enough time to finish that one. And besides those, I’ve got my regular work to keep up with.” 
Sirius is quiet for half a second, which is unusual enough that you look over to check that he’s still here. He’s giving you a look you know too well, one dark brow and one corner of his mouth quirked up suggestively. “Sounds like you need to blow off some steam,” he says. 
You try to scoff, but it comes out a snort. “Oh, fuck off. And quit looking at me.” 
You don’t look up from your task this time, a particularly stubborn piece of food requiring your attention, but you can tell Sirius is pouting at you from just his voice. “A cruel demand, and one I can’t abide by. Sorry, gorgeous.”
“Freak.” You continue scrubbing at the dish. Finally, you give in, using your fingernail to attack the crusted-on piece of mystery food and doing your best to ignore the grossness of it. It comes off, but your nail breaks. “Damn it!”
“Hey.” The teasing tone drops from Sirius’ voice. “Take it easy, dollface. You’ve got time.”
It doesn’t feel like you have time. There’s been alarm bells going off in your head since you’d woken up on Monday morning and realized all you had to do this week, and there’s no time for any of it. There’s a dangerous pressure building behind your eyes, but if there’s one thing you definitely don’t have time for, it’s a breakdown. You force a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. 
“I know,” you tell Sirius. “Thanks.”
“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggests lightly. 
You cut a knowing look his way. “I do not have time for a shag right now, Sirius.”
He grins, showing his teeth. “Not what I was thinking of, but as always, let me know if you change your mind.” You roll your eyes, and his smile drops. “Just, like, an actual break. You seem kind of stressed.” 
“I am,” you say, like duh, “but I don’t have time for a break either. I’ll be less stressed when everything is done.” You just have to make it until then. 
Sirius goes quiet again, but you don’t bother wondering about it this time. It’s fine if he’s worried about you. You want him to be, a little bit. You want someone to see how hard you’re trying, even if it doesn’t look like your efforts are producing much. You’ll wash the dishes, and your flatmate will still be annoyed you’d let them pile up in the first place. You’ll turn in your essays, and they’ll be just okay enough to pass. You can work all day, from the second you wake up until you fall dead asleep, and sometimes it feels like it’s for nothing. But what’s the alternative? Stop, and watch your barely-together life fall apart completely? No, you just have to get through this week. Just this week, and then you can rest until the next hard week. 
You stack the last of the dishes on the drying rack, and your hand has barely left before the three on top slip off. You lunge forward on instinct, like you think you can catch them. You can’t. The crash is loud, but you barely hear it. You bring your hands to your face, cupping your mouth between your palms. Your horrified exhale blows hot air back onto your chin. 
“Okay, it’s okay.” Sirius’ voice is soft, as is his touch on your shoulder, encouraging you back from the glass shards. “You’re alright, just be careful, yeah?”
“Fuck,” you say, and you try to laugh, but what comes out is a dry sob. “Oh my god, fuck me.”
“I think we’ve agreed now’s not a good time,” Sirius jokes, taking a dish towel and using it to scrape together the bigger pieces. “Do you have a broom, love?” 
You shake yourself out of your stupor. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll grab it.” 
You step over Sirius, and he makes a half-suppressed sound of alarm when you come too close to the glass but takes the dustpan when you hand it to him. You sweep up the glass, going farther than necessary from the site of the damage to ensure no one ends up with an impaled foot later on. Sirius dumps it in the trash. 
“Thanks,” you tell him, trying to reorient. “Okay, I need to—”
“Oh, would you look at that,” Sirius cuts you off, going to the stove. “It appears I’ve put the kettle on. Must be habit. Sit and have a cup with me, doll?” You give him a look that says you know what he’s doing, and he shrugs like he doesn’t care. “Just for a few minutes. Please.” 
You relent perhaps too easily, picking out mugs for the both of you and accompanying him to the living room. You curl up against the armrest of the couch, and Sirius settles in next to you, his thigh touching your hip. They’re your usual spots, but what’s not as routine is the arm he wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You sip at your tea as if you don’t notice. The warmth is soothing as it goes down your throat and seeps into your insides. Sirius turns on the TV, and it’s obvious by now that you’ve been lied to, he doesn’t intend to let you go after a few minutes, but you’re losing the will to hold him to it anyway. You let your head lie on his arm as he begins to trace slow, smooth shapes into your shoulder. 
And though it feels nice, you say, “I don’t need you to coddle me.” 
You feel Sirius shift to look down at you, and you tilt your head to meet his eyes. “But you’ll let me,” he says, “won’t you?” 
You don’t know how to answer that. Sirius doesn’t seem to be waiting for one, pressing a casual kiss to your head and then focussing back on the screen, his doodles on your shoulder never faltering. You rest your head on him again, and you suppose that’s answer enough. 
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ladykailitha · 6 months
Text
I See You Shiver With Antic--
Remember that one shot I was telling you about? This is that, but I split it in two because I'm a Dweeb!
Summary: Eddie and Robin are taking their friends to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show where they all dress up. Only thing don't go quite according to plan when Steve gets self conscious about his costume. Now it's a race to get the belle to the ball, Eddie has just the fairy godmother in mind, his old friend Janice former Hellfire Club member and now makeup artist.
***
Eddie heaved a sigh. He had been knocking on Steve’s door for the last ten minutes without much success in getting his friend to open his bedroom door.
“Come on, Stevie,” he cooed. “I’m standing here in fishnet tights and a corset, how much worse could it be?”
He was dressed up as Dr. Frank N. Furter as all of the older teenagers were dressing up as Rocky Horror Picture Show characters for a midnight showing down at the Hawk. Nancy and Jonathan were dressed up as Janet and Brad. Argyle had chosen Riff Raff and Robin was Columbia.
They were supposed to be there at 10pm, for a pre-show party, but if Steve didn’t come out soon, they were going to miss it.
All their friends were waiting by the front door, looking up at Eddie trying to get him to come out. Everyone had tried at least once. Even Nancy. And now they were back to Eddie giving it a go.
“You promise not to laugh?” came the quiet plea from behind the door.
Eddie gave the crowd below a thumbs up as he said, “I promise.”
He heard the click of the door unlocking, but the door didn’t open. So Eddie went in.
He licked his lips to wet them as his mouth had gone dry at the sight before him. Laughing was the farthest thing that Eddie wanted to do in that moment.
Steve could have been anyone. The criminologist, Dr Everett, hell he could have even gone as Eddie, the character, not Munson. But no. Standing before him in the middle of the bedroom was Steve Harrington dressed in nothing but sandals and gold booty shorts.
As Rocky Horror himself.
Eddie tried to think about the implications of that because it could go so many ways, not the least of which was signaling to Nancy he wanted to get back with her.
But he secretly hoped that Steve had done it because he wanted to be Eddie’s creation. That he would belong to Eddie.
But all that those thoughts went out the window when he noticed that Steve had his arms wrapped around his middle and was looking away from him.
“Oh, Stevie,” he murmured and opened his arms for him.
Steve went willingly into his embrace. “I thought I could do it. I tried. I promised Robin. But the scars...I just can’t.”
Ah.
Yeah, okay. Eddie didn’t really care about his scars, but most of the largest ones were covered by the corset. Not like Steve’s. They were all out for anyone to gawk at.
Personally, he didn’t think they stood out that much. The other times he had seen Steve shirtless over the summer when they had been out swimming, they didn’t really stand out.
But it wasn’t his opinion that mattered. It was Steve’s.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You have three options. Stay home–”
“No I want to go!”
Eddie rubbed Steve’s back. “Okay, it’s okay. You could go as someone else. It’s funny, but their Eddie doesn’t dress much differently then I do, it would be a quick and easy fix.”
Steve was quiet. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either.
“Or we can cover it up with makeup,” He concluded.
Steve frowned and stepped back. “You can do that?”
He grinned. “Well not me specifically, but yeah, I’ve got a friend who could cover the scars.”
Steve stepped out of Eddie’s arms, a loss Eddie keenly felt, and nodded. “We can try covering up the scars and if that doesn’t work, I can dress up as Eddie.”
Eddie grinned. “You’ve got it, big boy. I’ll be right back.”
*
Eddie dashed down the stairs and quickly explained the problem and that he had a plan, two actually.
Grudgingly they agreed to go to the party without Eddie and Steve. Once they were out the door, Eddie dashed to the nearest phone. He called Wayne first to bring a change of clothes for Steve.
The second phone call more important, and really hoped she answered.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she picked up. “Janice, apple of eye and love of my heart...” he began dramatically.
“Eddster!” she greeted back. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Babe,” Eddie said with a grin, “I’m calling in my favor.”
“Oohh...” she said. “I’m all ears. I was so sure you would be holding that over my head for years.”
“Must needs must, darling,” Eddie said in a fake English accent. Then he told her the plan. “Bring your kit, we have Cinderella to get ready for the ball.”
“Color me intrigued,” she said. “I’m in. I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Fly faster, fairy godmother,” Eddie said. “This is an emergency.”
*
Ten minutes later the doorbell rang and Eddie threw open the double doors.
“Hello, Janice!” he greeted warmly. “We’re set up in the kitchen. If you’ll follow me.”
She dutifully fell in step behind him and marched double time to the kitchen.
Objectively Janice knew who’s house this was, Eddie had even said his name when calling in his favor, but it was quite another to be standing in Steve Harrington’s kitchen with him in gold shorts, looking embarrassed.
Steve Harrington who had never been anything but confident his entire life. He was rich, popular, good looking, and if you believed the rumors a regular goofball. But this was not that boy.
His nostrils flared when she paused in front of the door and he glanced behind him as if to look for another exit. He also had ginormous scars on his both his sides and a wicked one on his neck. He was skittish in a way she instantly understood. He moved the way her uncle did having come home from Vietnam.
She moved out of the way of the door and to his left side at first, but again he flinched and she moved to his right. He relaxed, not enough to remove his arms from his sides, but enough that he was looking at her.
She had heard all the rumors about what had gone down during spring break and hadn’t believed any of them, but she was starting think there was more to them then she had thought.
“Janice, you remember Steve from school?” Eddie said. “Steve this Janice former president of the Hellfire Club, makeup artist, and all round drama queen.”
“Oh I do remember you!” Steve said excitedly, smiling for the first time. “You’re the one that told Carol that coral was so not her color and that it was basically orange.”
Eddie and Janice laughed.
“Oh god,” Janice said wiping away literal tears, “I can’t believe you remember that.”
Steve grinned. “I remembered it because that’s what I told her when she bought it.”
Janice’s jaw dropped. “That’s hilarious!”
Eddie hid a smile behind his hand, grateful that they were getting along.
Steve cleared his throat. “So you’re going to make the scars go away?”
She nodded. “There are a couple things we can do,” she said. “It depends on if you plan on getting it wet, how much people are going to see, and if it’s going to be hot, making you sweat.”
Steve looked to Eddie because he didn’t have an answer to any of those questions.
“It’ll be mostly standing in line to see the movie and then after, so short-ish time,” Eddie said tilting his hand back and forth. “As for getting wet, I wasn’t planning on being in the first couple of rows, not with newbies coming. But I don’t know how hot the theater is going to be.”
“So plan for it being hot just to be on the safe side, but doesn’t need to be waterproof, got it.”
She set her rather large case on the counter and opened it up. Steve watched in fascination as more and more drawers pulled out.
“It’s like magic,” he whispered.
Janice whirled around to face him. “And that’s why I will be your fairy godmother for the evening. Let’s get the belle to the ball!”
She got to work painting his hand different colors trying to match his skin tone, finally finding the one that would work.
“That’s lighter than my skin tone, though,” Steve said with a frown.
Janice hummed. “Yup, because once it’s applied to the scar, the tone will even out.”
“Cool.”
She grinned up at him.
About halfway through the process, Eddie went to go answer the door and came back with a backpack filled with clothes.
Twenty minutes after she started, Janice stepped back to admire her work. “You’ve got a mirror or something around here?”
Steve pointed to a nearby room. “That’s a bathroom.”
She nodded and grabbed his hand and hauled him into the room with her. He went, laughing all the way.
Steve looked into the mirror and gasped. “You can’t tell it was ever there at all,” he whispered. His hand hovered over top, not daring to touch it for fear of ruining her work.
“You can touch it,” she said. “That’s the point. It won’t smear or anything like that.”
He looked over at her with a grin. “You’re amazing, thank you.”
They went back to the kitchen where Eddie was waiting.
She finally took in Eddie’s costume. “Looking fantastically freaky, there Eddster.”
Janice reached up and touched his curls. “Holy shit, you didn’t cut it! It’s all pinned up to look short. You can’t even tell.”
Eddie grinned, flicking his head back dramatically. “Isn’t it amazing?”
“I would hire the person that did that to do hair for my shop in a fucking heartbeat,” she breathed.
“Shop?” Steve asked, confused.
“Janice has a shop where they do hair and makeup for plays, movies, and TV shows,” Eddie explained. “They do awesome work.”
“Yeah,” Janice said. “My main hair gal got pregnant and is having a really bad one. They put her on bed rest just four months in.”
Eddie winced in sympathy.
“Do you only take female employees or would a guy hairstylist have a chance?” Steve asked shyly.
Janice looked at Eddie and then back to Steve. “You did his hair?”
Steve nodded.
“I would take a three-headed green slime monster if they did hair that good,” she said.
She looked between the two boys. “Eddie, if he works out, I might have owe you a brand new favor.”
Steve’s eyes lit up as Eddie cackled.
“Hell yeah!!”
She shook her head. “Hey, you think it would be okay if I joined you guys tonight? I’ve got a wig and French maid outfit, unless you already have a Magenta?”
Eddie and Steve shared a glance.
“Argyle would love that!” Eddie grinned. “He’s our Riff Raff and is indeed missing a Magenta.”
Janice cheered. “Hell yeah, baby! I’ll meet you at the Hawk in a half hour if that’s okay with Steve here?”
Steve nodded. “Nancy and Robin would be thrilled to add another girl to the group.”
Janice smiled. “Great! I’ll see you later!”
Eddie laughed as she practically skipped out of the house lugging that huge kit as though it weighed nothing.
***
Part 2
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cosmos-coma · 2 months
Text
My Sun, My Star- Part 3
A/N: I feel like I’ve been writing and editing this forever but I think I’m finally done! I had a lot of requests for the Winter Soldier meeting his baby and so here we are! Besides a small epilogue this will probably be the last direct chapter of My Sun, My Star. Hope you’ve enjoyed!
Pairing: Bucky X Reader / Winter soldier!Bucky x Reader
Words: 4996
Warnings: Blood, fear of kidnapping/death, threats of violence, swearing, pregnancy/labor/birth, GN reader (no pronouns), but pregnant reader, blood, canon-level violence, rare use of Y/n (let me know if I missed things)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
Buy me a Ko-fi?
________
“And you promise this is safe?” Bucky asked tentatively, his brow drawn together as he frowned in concern. His arms would have been crossed tight across his chest had one hand not been occupied holding yours. 
“It’s the safest thing anyone could do,” Maria assured him from across the table, “it should only take about 40 minutes. We just need someone to make sure everything is set up properly in the safe house. There's some light cleaning and we need to make sure that the locks are good, the thermostat works, and the signal jammers are functional” she explained at length. 
Today they were receiving a low-tier HYDRA agent that had recently defected. Fearing for his and his partner's life they sought refuge with what remained of SHEILD, promising to spill whatever secrets he needed to keep them safe. However, in the off chance it was all a ruse, they set up signal jammers so there’d be no chance of the agent alerting HYDRA or anyone else that may compromise the location.
“If it helps we can even keep the house under surveillance just in case. There’s plenty of cameras on the surrounding houses we can use to keep an eye out,” Maria continued, looking across the table to you this time.
You rubbed your enlarged belly, nearly bursting at the seams as you were due just a few days from now. Bucky had been the perfect companion while you were stuck at home, getting you anything you could possibly need, making sure you didn’t tip over, and keeping you entertained while you were mostly couch and bed-bound. 
But now you were bored out of your mind, beyond tired of sitting on the couch at home all day and night, so why wouldn’t you take an easy job and the bit of money that goes with it? You can waddle around for a while to check some things out. You might be a little slow, but it couldn’t be more than an hour at most. What’s the harm in that?
 “I’d love to, when do I start?” 
Bucky did not have a good feeling about this.
____
It started as any other day; fairly quiet and mundane, and although it would be boring to anyone else, you were just happy to see something other than the inside of your apartment. You pulled the car to a stop in the driveway, looking up at the nice yet bland little house that sat before you. It was a good-looking neighborhood just an hour outside of the city, with decently spaced houses and gardens dotting the lawns here and there. And if you were anybody else it’d be your perfect suburban dream.
After a brief moment of struggling to squish your belly past the steering wheel you finally managed to hobble out, “Ha ha! See? Pregnancy isn’t so hard… I make this look easy,” you boasted to yourself with a grand smile as you stepped out of the car. You took a moment to dig your knuckles into your lower back as you exited, trying to chase away the pain you felt. It had started aching something awful on your way out here, cresting and falling in small waves, but it was nothing you couldn’t work around. You’d lay down eventually and you're sure it would right itself in no time.
You waved to the cameras pleasantly as you walked to the front door, clicking the key into the lock and punching in the ever-changing security code Maria gave you. Unlocking with a lighthearted mechanical chirp you stepped inside and looked around.
It was pretty bare bones; just the basic necessities- food, water, a couple of games, and a shelf of books to pass the time with. Curtains were drawn tight over the windows, keeping the place veiled in shadowy darkness and prying eyes out as you took your first few steps in. Closing the door behind you with a soft click you pulled out your phone to text Maria.
‘Testing testing 123,’ you sent, pausing a moment before giving a satisfactory nod as it refused to go through. The jammers seemed to be working just fine. 
Bucky had been thoroughly against it when he heard there’d be signal jammers; he did not want you anywhere you couldn’t contact him with your due date so soon. But Maria assured him (as much as she could) that you’d still be able to call if needed- and vice versa- but that you’d have to use the tapped landline hanging inside the kitchen. 
You hummed softly as you went about your work, ignoring the discomfort that ran down your back and stomach as you moved. You were just about halfway through your list when you felt your belly begin to quake, “Ohhh, hey. Okay, I know you probably wanna sit down, but we’ve barely started,” You winced as you rubbed your stretched-out skin, only to be met with a sharp kick. 
“Ow! Okay! okay, maybe 5 minutes on the couch first…,” You held both your back and your stomach as you waddled toward the couch slowly, surely looking like quite the sight had anyone been around to see it. 
Clink clink clink
You paused as you heard the front door jiggle. 
No one was supposed to be here for hours yet.
It jiggled again, and this time you heard the voices of several people standing outside. 
“There’s a car outside, he’s got to be here” you barely made out as the first voice mumbled, “if not him, then his partner- And I won’t be going back empty-handed,” another chimed in.
“We’ll find a way to keep him silent. Whether with his blood or theirs.”
Your stomach dropped.
They must’ve been HYDRA agents. Were they here for the defector? How on earth did they find this place? 
But there was no time to think as the landline rang loudly from the kitchen. Wincing, you prayed to anyone who would listen that they wouldn’t hear it- but no such luck.
The door rattled again, violently this time, and was followed by mumbled threats to an agent you had never met.
Panic coursed through your body as you waddled quickly through the house, head turning this way and that as you searched desperately for a place to hide. 
‘Can’t fit under the bed, the bathroom is too obvious, the kitchen is too open, I can’t go outside, and I can’t fight my way out…’ Your brain ran through endless possibilities, unhappy with each one as you clutched your stomach.
Pew pew
You recognized the sound of muffled gunshots immediately, they were quieted by a silencer- a terrifying thought- but you recognized them all the same as they shot through the security pad outside the door. 
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you cursed as you bolted toward your last choice, darting into the closest bedroom and tucking yourself behind the closet’s sliding doors, pulling them closed with a swift slam just as the front door busted in. 
‘Deep breaths… Deep breaths…,’ You tried to slow your frantic breathing as footsteps entered the otherwise silent house. You desperately wished there were clothes, anything, in this closet you could hide beneath but it was as bare as the rest of the house. Sitting down, you curled into the furthest corner of the closet you could, forcing your heavy breaths into silence as you raked your brain for any solution you could.
‘Ah! My phone!! I can text for help!’ You scrambled to pull your phone from your pocket and quickly typed out a message to Bucky. Hopefully, he’d alert the others and be the first to come to your rescue. 
“No, no, no, no…” you groaned quietly, “Why isn’t it sending?” You shook your phone angrily as it continued to refuse you and sighed in defeat when you finally remembered the jammers set up throughout the house. Your only hope now was the landline in the kitchen….
“Spread out,” the HYDRA leader commanded as he made his way into the house, picking up your bag that you so carelessly left out, “Find whoever’s here, and do whatever you need to bring them in. As long as they’re breathing, I don’t care how they come back,” He ordered, several pairs of feet breaking away immediately to search through the house. 
You pulled your knees as close to your chest as you could, tears prickling your eyes as you tried to think of a way out. You weren’t even sure when the tears started to run, your mind growing numb as you thought of bad ending after bad ending. Doors slammed on the floor above you, making you flinch as you knew that at any moment it could be yours. You were trapped
But you had to be calm- Bucky would want you to remain calm. You could think of a way out, you knew you could, you just needed to take a deep breath. What would Bucky tell you to do? 
 You had just managed to get yourself somewhat calm again when a sudden wetness took over your lower half. Panic set in again as you scrambled to see over your ballooned belly, fearfully wishing this wasn’t what you thought it was. But as an even worse pain tore through you, like knives jabbing into your pelvis, you knew you weren’t mistaken. 
Your water just broke.
——-
Technicians clacked away at their keyboards with lightning speed as Maria Hill entered the room. They had called her not too long ago, alerting her of an urgent matter- but even she couldn’t have guessed what this was about. 
“There’s been a security breach…” the head technician announced as she flicked across their various screens to show her. “They weren’t subtle about it, I’m not sure if they wanted us to know or if they just didn’t care, but-“ 
“What did they take?” Maria interrupted, trying to get to the point.
“That’s the thing… they bypassed all our important files, the only file they actually opened was the one containing the safe house addresses…” she looked up at Hill with an expression that could only be described as nauseous, “We tried calling Y/n, but there was no answer…,” she bit her lip as she finished, even she obviously expected the worst.
Maria’s jaw clenched. She knew Barnes was going to kill her as soon as he found out, but she couldn’t just keep it from him either- “Pull up the security footage of house #6… now. Right now….” Her pen clicked nervously in her hand as she waited for it to come up, her stomach dropping as she saw a dark SUV in the driveway, the front door left partially open, and the security panel completely down. 
“Rewind it…” she ordered, clicking her pen faster and- “Shit. This is…. Not ideal…” Maria said, obviously trying to keep her voice level and professional. 
She stood behind her technicians, watching the back-tracked security film play the video of trained agents pulling up to the safe house and shooting in the door. 
“Alert the team… I need to make a call.” 
She slowed the clicking of her pen as the phone rang, barely getting out one full ring before it was immediately answered.
“Where do I need to be?” His voice was low, anger barely being held back on its tight leash. He already expected the worst and unfortunately, this time he was right.
“Sargeant Barnes, we have a situation... I’m sending you the address now.”
————
Horns blared as Bucky swerved onto the shoulder, speeding past traffic as he made his way to the safe house. His knuckles were a ghastly white as he gripped the steering wheel like a vice, the creaking of steel beneath his hands the only thing keeping him connected to the present.
He should have never let Maria talk you into it, or at the very least he should have been there to help you. 
“Sergeant Barnes, we have a situation… I’m sending you the address now” Maria said.
“What kind of situation…?” His voice had been deathly low, barely restraining the anger it held. He made a beeline for the car as soon as he saw Maria’s name flash on the screen. He’d had his phone in hand all morning just for this exact scenario.
He could hear her frown through the phone and his skin burned with worrisome anger as she spoke, “HYDRA’s broken into the safe house… we’ve tried to contact Y/n but there was no answer. They’re still there, no one has left, and as far as we know there’s been no shots fired besides at the front door.”
He nodded curtly as he hung up, putting the car into gear and peeling out of the lot with a roaring screech of his tires. He couldn’t count the number of laws he broke as he tore through the city’s endless streets racing against an invisible clock.
Out of nowhere his arm jerked to the side, pulling him from his thoughts as he narrowly missed a stopped car before him. Stunned breaths caught in his chest as he realized what a close call it was, literally inches from disaster. 
His body had acted without thinking, moving almost like it had a mind of its own… it was only when the back of his mind began to itch and squirm did he know why. 
 “Shit...” he sighed. The Winter Soldier must’ve sensed what was going on, digging himself toward the forefront of Bucky’s mind to take over. Bucky was still in control for now, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it would last.
“I guess I owe you a thanks,” he begrudgingly mumbled to himself, focusing once more on the road ahead. He was just 25 minutes out and he prayed he’d get there in time.
Continuing down the road he shifted uncomfortably; the Winter Soldier’s presence didn’t fade, but it didn’t press any further either. It was almost like he was… waiting for permission? 
Bucky shook his head. 23 minutes out.
He knew you trusted the assassin, and after watching the videos of your last interaction he… trusted him too- to a point. But even with this iota of trust, his instincts still had him hesitating to relinquish control. What if it didn’t have a happy ending this time? What if he went too far? What if he couldn’t come back…?  The fear had been ingrained in him so long ago that he wasn’t sure he could ever fully give it up. 
But he may not have a choice anymore. If what Hill said was right then there were at least 6 agents waiting for him and he was completely unarmed. There was only one person he knew that could bring both of you out in one piece…
“Fuck,” Bucky swore. He knew what he had to do. Speeding passed the last car in his way, he pulled out into the empty straight-away before him. Bright blue eyes stared back at him through the rear-view mirror as he sighed, “Don’t make me regret this…” 
Pain rippled through his skull, ringing as if his head was stuck inside a church bell. Haze crept into his sight as the edges of his vision blurred and he let himself fully slide into the backseat of his consciousness. His shoulders shifted slowly, rolling as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter. The soft material caved under his metal fingers with a wretched creak, leaving ripples in the leather-covered metal. 
As the cloud of pain finally passed, burning away like early morning fog, he pulled the rear-view mirror down. A familiar dark aura surrounded his gaze as he watched himself, trained and sharp as he nodded to his reflection. 
He wasn’t Bucky anymore.
“Вы не будете [you won’t].” 
————
“No no no no…. Not right now, please. Anything, but this-“ you paused your mumbling as footsteps passed right in front of the room, “-Okay maybe not anything, but still….” 
You held your breath, tensing as another contraction passed through you and you willed yourself not to make a sound, but it was getting harder and harder each time. It dawned on you that you must have been having contractions this whole time. That pain in your back when you started driving down, the quaking of your belly, it was all a part of your labor- you just didn’t realize until your water finally broke.
Tears flowed freely from your eyes, not at the pain but at the horror of your situation; There was no way to get out without being seen, you were far too slow for that in your current state and you were bound to be bagged and shoved in a van as soon as they caught you. However, you couldn’t wait and hope to give birth in this closet either; the moment she comes out she’s going to be a screaming mess and then you’ll both be in a vulnerable state.
‘Where is Bucky…?’ You thought as tears clouded your vision, your fingers redialing him from memory alone even if you knew it would never go through, ‘please, please… I have to do something…’
You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes as you furiously rubbed the tears away, again trying to remain calm. ‘Okay, think… think… maybe I can slip out through the window…? If I’m quiet enough maybe I can take my time with it?’ You thought as you peeked through the slats in the closet doors. 
You hoped that the windows wouldn’t be locked as you looked down at your phone again, trying to time out your contractions, ‘Okay…. After the next one hits we’ll just make a break for the window.. that should be more than enough time to get myself out, right? Thank god I hid on the first floor.’
You waited until your next contraction hit, biting down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. You breathed furiously through your nose to try to keep your composure and began to taste iron as blood spilled into your mouth.  But you didn’t care- you couldn’t afford to.
“Shit, shit, okay…” you breathed as it finally passed, slowly shifting onto your hands and knees, reaching for the knob when- 
Click
You heard the door to the room click open and footsteps come inside. Quickly covering the gasp that threatened to escape, you eased back down slowly. Fear froze your entire body, you didn’t even realize when you started holding your breath, but you weren’t about to let it go now.
You wasted your time and now you were stuck here; dear god were you gonna die in a closet? This is not how you imagined yourself going. 
Through the slats in the closet doors, you watched the agent check the room, under the bed, under the desk- he had just started to leave when he stopped in front of the closet doors, his feet turning to face you.
Your heart squeezed painfully as every part of you waited with bated breath. You heard his hand fall on the knob. This was it. The moment he opened it he was bound to see you. You had nowhere left to hide. 
You only hoped it would be quick. 
You closed your eyes as you heard the closet door begin to open. You were sure you had been seen until- 
“Hm?” The agent said as he turned toward the commotion happening in the other room. His hand left the knob and you watched as his shadow quietly slink away toward the sound of growing struggle and gunfire. 
Was now your chance..?
BANG
‘NOPE!’ You screamed in your head as gunfire went off right outside the room's door, accompanied by the heavy thud of a body and cloth on tile as it was dragged away. Boots squelched against the hall's sleek floors, coming closer until they transitioned to the sound-absorbing carpet of the room. 
Braving a peek through the thin slats you saw blood-covered boots, different ones than the agent just before, but the same terror filled you as you noticed them facing you. 
Your breath burned as you held it still in your lungs, your whole body tense with anxiety. Did someone hear you? Did they know you were here? You had kept yourself so hidden, how did they know?
“Ты не сможешь спрятаться от меня, дорогая... Я узнаю свое солнце где угодно [you can’t hide from me, darling… I’d know My Sun anywhere].”
You knew that voice... You knew that voice..!
Cautiously, holding your stomach close you peeked past the sliver of an opening, “My Star…?” 
He was covered in smatterings of blood from his head to his boots, yet thankfully none of it seemed to be his own. Despite his slightly battered and blood-covered appearance, his darkened eyes swam with reverence and relief as his strange little smile shined brighter than his namesake. You couldn’t be sure exactly when the assassin’s persona had come out, but you were beyond glad he was here.
“My star!” You beamed and scrambled to your feet to launch yourself at the Assassin, only making it halfway off the floor before crumbling back into a tight ball. You yelled, tears flowing once more as you finally put voice to the pain of your contractions, they were coming on much quicker now. 
Obvious worry flashed across his face as he rushed in to catch you, gently easing you onto the floor. Hands roamed over you in a cursory search as he spoke, trying to find the source of your pain, “My Sun? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” 
You whimpered as the pain lingered, wisps of it swirling across your stomach and hips before finally settling away, “Ah…. No, I’m fine- mostly fin…” you shuddered as you clung tight to his arms, trying to stand. 
“I’ve got you…” The Soldier soothed with a murmur, his voice surprisingly sweet in your ear as he whispered soft words, “You’re okay now….” Careful eyes scanned over your body again as you were scooped off the ground by two strong arms, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he saw you were indeed unharmed. 
You couldn’t find it in yourself to care for the way blood stained your clothes and smeared across your skin as you were held fast against his chest. He held you like you were everything delicate about the world, and to him you were. Turning his face into your neck he breathed in every part of you- the fear, the sweetness, the grime, the love; he wanted to breathe in every moment that he had missed.
“My Sun, how long has it been..? You’ve grown so much…,” Adoration pooled in his once frigid eyes as they washed over you. As steady as he could manage he settled you on the small heap of pillows making their home on the bed. His large warm hand was like a godsend as he pressed it against your aching belly, his touch seeming to quell everything- even for just a moment. 
“4 months…” you replied, all your focus was on breathing through your nose while your hands absentmindedly went to remove your pants, finding difficulty when your nearly 9-month belly got in the way. 
“4 months… so this-” His voice paused as he stepped in to help remove your pants. His eyes cast down to your belly, seemingly searching for a moment before looking back up at you, and for once you saw the Winter Soldier’s darkened gaze filled with never-ending light. “I finally get to meet her..?” his voice was uncharacteristically soft as he spoke, his words filled with disbelief, “I get to meet our girl…?” he whispered as if he was scared that speaking too loud would surely jinx it. 
Your lips cracked into a small smile as you watched him, your heart fluttering all the more as he spoke in hushed tones. You nodded as you took his hand against your quaking belly, “It’s time… But I can’t do this on my own,” you looked up at him with big eyes, ones that spoke of urgency and need, “I don’t know if anyone else is coming, and I don't know if we have time to wait for them either,” you said, looking at him in hopes that he’d begin to understand. “I need you to help me when she comes, okay? I… I think I need you to deliver her.”
Light-filled blue eyes faltered as he looked from you to your stomach and back again. His hands were used to taking life from this world, not bringing it in. Not to mention that, unlike Bucky, He did not have the time nor the resources to read parenting books; he was completely unprepared for a mission like this and for once he actually found himself scared. 
“Ah… My Sun, I-” he started. What if he messed it up? What if he hurt her? … What if he really was only good at one thing- killing? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if this went wrong- and he knew his gentler half wouldn’t either.
“I’ll try to walk you through it, okay? Please?” you begged as you squeezed his hand. You were terrified, plain and simple, but between the two of you- you were the only one with hours of anxiety-filled Google searches under your belt and for now, that would just have to do.
His eyes shot back up to yours, searching your gaze for a moment before nodding, “Okay, My Sun… anything you ask…” he promised. And he did, anything and everything you asked of him he was quick to get, whether it was more pillows, washing the blood from his face, or giving you his hand so you could break it as you squeezed.
Your contractions began getting closer and closer until they were only mere minutes apart. Pain ripped through every fiber of your muscles, every shard of your bone, and every cell of your organs as your baby girl squirmed to be free. 
“I can’t… I can’t hold her in anymore…” you said wearily, your hair probably this way and that, but all you knew was how tired you were already. Your eyelids hung half-lidded as you looked up at him, pressing his cool metal hand further into your flushed cheek. You were a mess, you were damp all over and red in the face and grouchy beyond belief but you were still a shining sun in the vibrant sky of his blue eyes.
He nodded and quickly moved between your legs, not letting the sight phase him as he readied himself exactly as you instructed. He was going to be calm for you, despite the way the assassin inside him yelled that he was unprepared. He had done plenty of missions with only a sliver of knowledge to go on- he wouldn’t let it stop him now.
“You’ve done great, My sun. The long part is over and now you have just a little bit more,” he said, giving you words of encouragement- just as you instructed. “You're going to do amazing, and I know that she is going to be as perfect as you in every way,” Despite your request for encouragement there was nothing but complete honesty in his tone. He believed every word he said to you and for the first time in this entire pregnancy, you truly thought you could do this too. 
It took only 4 pushes and the cost of feeling in the Soldier’s fingers before the most blessed cries filled the air. Your baby’s sweet chubby face wailed the world’s sorrows as the Soldier held her delicately in his once-bloodied hands. Despite her red face and angry cries, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He would have taken down a hundred agents- a thousand if it meant he got to see her face for the first time again. 
“Моя прекрасная девочка... Несмотря на то, что ты плачешь и кричишь с первых вдохов, ты - самое замечательное существо, которое я когда-либо видел. [My beautiful girl… even though you cry and scream with your very first breaths you are the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen],” he whispered to her writhing little form, quickly cutting and tying the cord before wrapping her snuggly in your jacket. Her cries quieted and her kicking feet slowed to a stop as the soothing rumble of his voice reached her ears- almost as if she recognized it. 
After a few more frustrated grunts, her formerly closed eyes slid open. Radiant blue’s gazed back at him, like a still ocean they seemed to reflect his own perfectly. “У нее мои глаза... Дорогая, у нее мои глаза [She has my eyes… Darling, she has my eyes],” he looked up at you with a joy so innocent you could never have imagined the things he had done in his lifetime. There was another piece of him in the world now, a piece beyond the bloodshed and dark shadows he knew- something clean and new, and perfect.
Your heart swelled beyond measure as you watched the Winter Soldier hold his tiny daughter, his gaze filled with adoration as if he had never known anything less. He was a sight to behold as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against her little one as she gazed up at him in wonder.
Despite the tiredness you felt deep in your bones you fought hard to stay awake, utterly transfixed by the scene before you. In all your life you couldn’t have imagined today going the way it did, but you couldn’t have asked for a better end to it. 
As you watched the once fearsome Winter Soldier laugh as she gripped his finger with all her might, you could think of nothing to do except pull your phone out and snap a photo- you were going to cherish this photo forever as a memory that would always last.
__________
Bucky Taglist:
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flowercrowngods · 1 month
Text
🤍🌷 happy 1st birthday to what’s probably the fluffiest silliest most feel-good thing i’ve ever written in this fandom
nice to meet you, where you been?
aka. 12k of meeting again later in life schmoop featuring soft-ass steve, smitten trans!eddie, and hellcheer bestieism that is to die for
“Steve Harrington?” 
Eddie would cringe at his loud voice or the sheer and absolute bewilderment that can probably be heard three blocks down, but he’s too busy rewiring his brain. 
“Uh, hi,” Harrington says, pulling black nitrile gloves from his long fingers and dropping them into the bin before fixing Eddie with a mildly amused but definitely confused look. “Can I help you?” 
No. No he can’t. Eddie cannot be helped, because apparently Harrington isn’t even here just to get tattooed, but instead— No. Nah man. That can’t be. 
“What are you doing here?” Eddie says intelligently after a whole lot of staring, dumbfounded. 
Steve looks around for a second, doing all those face gymnastics he always used to do in high school when he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. 
“This—This is my shop?” 
It should be insulting, the way he enunciates every word like Eddie needs the whole world explained to him in very slow, very easy words. Which, actually, he might, because apparently the world is a really fucking weird place in which Steve Harrington wears pastel sweaters and owns a tattoo shop. 
Eddie is pretty sure he hit his head. Or stepped into an alternate dimension. Or both. Considering his luck on, like, an existential scale, it’s probably both. 
“No way, man,” is all Eddie says, and this time Harrington is really leaning into the amusement, though judging by his face, he must also be wondering if Eddie requires medical attention. The jury’s still out on that one, though. 
Harrington looks around his shop again, squinting at Eddie with that fucking smile still in place. “This… is not my shop?” Oh, he is sassy. Mister pastel-wearing sassy man Harrington, who is smiling at Eddie in a way that is entirely too contagious. 
None of this makes sense and Eddie just sags, tearing his eyes away from the vision of Harrington in his bright clothes, the golden afternoon sun catching in his hair as a light breeze comes in through the window. 
Eddie crosses his arms in front of his chest, because if he doesn’t, he would probably do something stupid like play with his hair or hide behind it. And Steve shouldn’t have that power over him anymore. They aren’t stupid teenagers anymore, and he does not have a crush on the golden boy!
“I might sound like a complete dick right now, but finding out that Steve ‘The King, The Hair, The Legend’ Harrington apparently inks people for a living was not on my bingo sheet for this week. Hell, even for this lifetime, I think.” 
read the rest on ao3
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