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squoxle · 1 month

Note

HIIEUSI WAS WHHEE HI SIS I WAS WONDERING U COULD DO ARCADE FF WITH HEESEUNG ?

Omg girl I haven’t had time to write a damn thing yet and my drafts are piling up. But moots take TOP priority and I try to respond to asks as fast as possible. Anywaysss here you go and I hope u enjoy 🩷

Ride Me ~ L.HS

pairing: Heeseung!bf x Reader!gf| wc: 1k | summary: Things take a steamy turn after your boyfriend shows you his new at-home arcade setup. | cw: 🔞MDNI!! unprotected sex, cumshots, fingering, clit stimulation, pet names [daddy, good girl, baby] <- 100% Heeseung coded [porn with a plot] Enjoy :)

“Well babe, what do you think?” Heeseung asked as he uncovered your eyes revealing the mass gaming setup. “I figured I’d use this more than the theater room,” he ruffled his hands through his hair, anxiously waiting for you to respond.

“It looks great, but I’m gonna miss our little movie nights under the blankets,” you smiled as you walked up to one of the machines.

You clicked a few of the large buttons, anticipating a pixelated image to flash across the screen. “Umm, how do you turn this thing on?” You asked as nothing seemed to work.

Heeseung placed his hand on the edge beside you, trapping you beneath him as he reached down to flick a power switch. You felt his weight slightly press you against the machine as he did this.

“I must’ve forgotten to turn this one on,” he met your eyes through his shaggy hair. Something about that state felt off, but maybe it was just you so you brushed off the feeling and proceeded to look at the other games he had.

A zombie survival simulator that came with 4 guns.

A claw machine filled with plushes.

A retro fighting game.

And a two player motorcycle game.

Eager to try this one out, you climbed onto the bike.

“Of all the stuff you just saw, im surprised this is the one you wanted to play,” Heeseung tilted his head.

“Yeah, well, I like racing games. Stuff like MarioKart, y’know,” Heeseung watched as you struggled to reach the coin slot from your seat. The opening sat just out of your reach.

Your tits pressed up against the leather as your cheek meshed with cold material.

"Let me help you," Heeseung whispered in your ear as he reached over to insert the coin. You felt him pushing himself up against you from behind which sent butterflies through your stomach.

You went to the loading screen and customized your bike, "If you wanna play, there's another bike," you said as you noticed your boyfriend was still straddled on the bike behind you. His hands gripped the back of the seat as he sat there with his legs spread open.

You had a bad habit of staring at the print in his pants, didn't matter if he was hard or soft. You craved to feel him inside of you.

"I know, but I wanna see how you ride," he smirked as he grabbed your hips, quickly jerking your hips backward.

Feeling the heat rush to your face you continued to start up the game. You chose a Tokyo map because of the neon cityscape terrain at night time. Though you tried your best to stay focused you couldn't shake the feeling of Heeseung sitting behind you like this.

"San, ni, ichi...sutato," the automated female voice called out as tri-colored traffic lights flashed across the screen. The aggressive rumble from the bike startled you as it took off.

You felt as Heeseung squeezed your hips again before leaning against you. You nearly crashed as his touch caught you off guard.

"Be careful baby," he said before placing a kiss on your neck.

"I-I'm trying. But you keep distracting me," you stuttered.

"Am I really that distracting," he asked as he slipped his hands around your thighs, squeezing and pulling at the flesh.

"Ngh," you groaned. "Yes, you are."

"Oh, but you like it when I touch you like this. Don't you?" Heeseung grinded his hips against you.

"Mmm," you moaned as you felt his budge pressing into you. "H-heeseung," you said letting out a soft breath.

"Keep driving baby. If you come in first place, I'll give you a little treat," he hummed as he reached his fingers in between your folds. Your growing wetness slowly seeped through the fabric of your panties.

"Ngh!" you huffed as he massaged your clit through your shorts.

He continued to tease you as you struggled to finish the race, barely coming in first after finding a shortcut.

As the gold star shot across the screen, Heeseung hummed a raspy "Good girl," in your ear before helping you out of your shorts.

At this point, you were only wearing your hot pink thong--something you knew Heeseung loved to use. "Show me that pretty little pussy of yours," he bit his lip as you pulled the small fabric to the side, exposing your wet folds.

He smiled as he palmed himself before pulling his veiny cock out only to glide it between your slimy lips and tease your sensitive bead with his tip.

You whimpered as you began pushing yourself against his hard dick, eagerly trying to force it inside.

He halted your movements by gripping the inside of your thighs, spreading your legs more, before telling you to "ride Daddy's dick like the good girl I know you are."

Immediately after he said those words, he shoved his dick deep inside of you, causing you to let out a sharp groan. "Fuck," he winced. "You're still so fucking tight," he said slowly pumping his cock into you. "Ngh," he moaned before leaning forward to kiss your neck as your ragged breathing filled his ear. "You sound so fucking sexy when you're taking my dick like this," he pecked your cheek as you finally adjusted to his length.

You started to grind into your boyfriend, stuffing his cock deeper into you as he held you from your waist. "That's it, baby, just like that," his words encouraged you to pick up the speed as he pulled your lips into his, gripping your throat.

He turned you over and fucked you from the back as your tits pressed up against the leather. You clenched around him as he let out a groan. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he gritted through his teeth before 3 long, hard thrusts. You felt his warm seed spill into you and drip out as you came with him. Fortunately, your panties caught the majority of the spill.

Exhausted, you laid across the bike as Heeseung kissed your shoulders.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @hynjinnn1 @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

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hi! Please ignore this request if you don't want to do it/your request are closed.

Do you think you could do a part 2 to hells angel? Or at least like more bonding moments between the two Im in love with father alastor sm 😭🙏

It’s not closed! It’s open, wide open and yes, I’ll happily write more for Papa Alastor! I’ll happily continue the little saga of Papa Alastor and his little fawn! Kinda short but I hope that’s okay!

Alastor- Shopping Trip

“Is this one something you’d like, Princess?” Alastor asks gently, his voice both menacing because of the radio effect and soothing because of the genuine love pouring out uncontrollably, as he draws down an adorable puffy old-fashioned but colourful little dress, long sharp fingers snapped on the small silky shoulder straps slightly. A outfit just the right size for a young girl

Specifically, his little girl. Leitora, a unique deer-featured soul born from pure powerful demonic magic. The one now forming his own soul and heart, he is so glad birthing the little devil darling was successful

His precious baby daughter, a seven year old with matching little deer ears and crimson red gradient in her pretty long hair. She has been waiting a long time to be able to spend time with her father and now, Alastor has taken the whole day off from duties at the Hazbin Hotel, to spend it exploring a wild wondering sinner-filled shopping institution with his babygirl

“Yes, Père! I love it!” You immediately pipe out soft yet eccentric back, excited and hopping right in front of the Radio Demon as he quickly hooks this little clothing present onto the size-appropriate hanger it was originally left on and hands it to you without another word. He currently has a few more shopping bags over his left forearm and an another much bigger shopping bag over his right shoulder as well as your needed travel supplies in a cute old fashioned pastel schoolbag over both of his shoulders

Your father doesn’t mind carrying everything nor does he mind overspending. After all

This is a father-daughter all-day shopping trip

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. A pretty clothing store, full of women’s to men’s to children’s fashion. The fifth store you’ve gone in with Alastor since the pair of you woke up early in the morning and headed over to the biggest mall in the Pride Ring, the mall both of you stand in at this very moment. He has been needing to get you some new clothing for a while now so being able to get your opinion on the cute dresses, tights, accessorises, pyjamas and much more he picks out for you is simply perfect

Alastor has truly missed being able to spend time with you, even if it includes milking his credit card. You’re worth far more than all the wealth he’s stolen and gathered

Taking your hand with a lean down, Alastor waits patiently for you to take his offer as you quickly readjust the clothing store hanger holding up your cute little present. Moving that hanger from both hands to your wrist, you reach up and immediately grab his much bigger hand. Two to three fingers are enough to hold your whole hand, the size difference is simply precious

“Père! Père! Look! Look!” Speaking with a adorable little French accent upon pointing out and chiming excitedly in fluent French, Alastor’s crimson red eyes sharply fling away from the cute rows of female children’s clothing to the single rack of children’s hair accessorises to jewellery. The reason you pointed it out, only seconds after taking your beloved father’s hand was because you noticed something really pretty you wanted your father to see

“What is it, Princess?” Alastor lets you drag him over to the colourful rack, his own eyes wondering around with tall fluffy deer-like ears flicking a bit as if an instinctive twitch. You still have the dress your father handed to you and you reach up as a sign for Alastor to help you. Following your little cute pale fingers, the Overlord picks out a set retro pearl tassel hairpins. Something he never thought you’d like but it may fit with your red hair

He isn’t sure if he wants the metal touching your skull however, so he holds the white cardboard support holding the hairpins still, just scanning over them a bit firmly and if not protective over you

Until your voice breaks him out of his intense thought. His ears shooting up in shock as your own ears draw back slightly, not necessarily concerned but wondering why just a pair of cute accessorises would possibly make him fall so deep into a thinking trance

“Père… What’s wrong?” You’re now the one asking your father to speak to you with big sparkly eyes looking up at him, he takes a few seconds of his head shaking in slight disorientation before he finally gets back to his senses and speaks out his opinion, uncertain but yet uncertain if he wants to reject you

Alastor is not good at saying no to you, he’s good at giving out needed discipline and can be rather strict about specific things but when it comes to mundane things like a pair of mere hairpins, he doesn’t like to say no

What can be said? Alastor is the type of father to spoil his daughter absolutely rotten

“Princess… are you sure you want this one specifically?”

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delusionalwriterr · 4 months

Text

See Her Smile

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: With Bucky being new to relationships, he’s still trying to learn how to handle things. But how does he handle things when you’re going through something you don’t even know how to handle yourself?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: signs of depression, angst, fluff

A/N: GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM THE DEAD Y’ALL. i missed writing so much, but life keeps giving me reasons not to T_T this fic is based off of See Her Smile from Tick, Tick... Boom! it's been stuck in my head all week, and i couldn't help but write something about it.

Masterlist | Prompt List

–––––

You hear Nat cheer beside you as you watch Steve catch the ball that was thrown to him. “That’s my man!” she exclaims as you take a swig of water, watching the football team as they prepare for an upcoming game.

This wasn’t your normal scene. If you’d ask your freshman self if she’d be willing to sit in the sweltering heat to watch sweaty men push each other around, she would laugh it off and turn back to binge watching her favorite show on Netflix. It wasn’t until you started dating one of the university’s linebackers, Bucky Barnes, did you even begin to consider watching football matches and turning up to their practices all together.

“Come on, lighten up! Your man’s over there too,” Nat pipes up, briefly looking over at you before turning back to watch the team. You chuckle as your eyes land on his figure. You couldn’t exactly see his face, but you were able to spot him in the field considering you’ve been dating for about 4 months now. You let out a cheer as you watch him tackle another player to the ground. His head snaps towards the direction of your voice as he stands up. You can’t see it, but you knew he was smiling. He puts his hand on his chest before pointing at you, his way of saying, “That one’s for you!”

You grin, cheeks heating up at his gesture as you feel your chest swell. Nat turns to you, a sly smirk on her face as she sips her iced coffee. “I take it that things with you two are going well?” she asks, making you tear your attention away from the field. You grin even wider before answering, “Yeah, things are great.”

You have to admit, you’d never think you would end up dating a football player– and when Bucky approached you one night at a random party to ask you out, you halfheartedly said yes, expecting that he would just take you to a random sports bar and try to hook up with you the same night. Fortunately, the date went better than expected with him bringing you to his favorite taco truck downtown and driving you to one of those retro drive-in movie theaters. However, he failed to check what movie they were playing that night and had the both of you watch a random Scandinavian film with no subtitles. In the end, the two of you decided on staying in the car and get to know each other more with the movie long discarded in the background.

Eventually, you ended up going on a few more dates after that and got to know how sweet he really was. Sure, he was still a jock and was still getting a hang of being in a committed relationship, but you could see him actively put the effort in it so you were more than happy.

You hear their coach blow his whistle, signaling the end of their practice which prompts you and Nat to jump from your seats and head down to the field to meet Bucky and Steve. Nat gets there first, crashing into Steve’s embrace, almost knocking him over. You laugh at the interaction before your eyes land on Bucky’s. With his helmet off, you have the opportunity to finally see his face. His hair was flat from his helmet with a few strands clinging to his forehead, the eye black on his cheeks smudged due to the sweat, and his mouth stretched into that boyish grin you grew to love.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asks playfully as you approach him. He puts his helmet down to wipe the beads of sweat on his face. “Just looking for some hot jocks to kiss,” you tease, earning a laugh from him before he wraps his arms around your waist. “Find anyone you like?” he plays along. You smile, snaking your arms to the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, I got one right here,” you giggle as you pull him into a kiss. It was soft and slow, and you could taste the saltiness of the sweat on his upper lip, but you didn’t care.

“Hello to you too, dollface,” you hear him mumble between your lips before pulling away. “I’m taking Steve to that new pizza place that just opened near campus, come with us?” he asks, shaking his head which elicited droplets of sweat to fly towards you much to your disgust. “You’re such a boy for doing that,” you grumbled. “But yeah, count me in.”

He smiles, but before he could get another word in, Nat interjects, “Count me in, too!”

Bucky shakes his head, “Nuh uh, you’re not invited. Steve told me how sick he was of you and how loud you snore when you sleep.” Nat gasps before playfully hitting Steve in the chest, earning an “ow” from him. “You told Bucky?!” she shrieks, but before she could protest even more, Steve pulls her into a kiss, muttering a quick “I love you”, then runs towards the shower room. Bucky turns back to you, giving you a swift kiss. “Pick you, guys, up in 20.”

As he was leaving, he looks back over at Nat and lets out a few loud snores, prompting her to throw a handful of dirt towards him. “Screw you, Buchanan!”

–––––

A few days later, Bucky walks out of the field, his bag hanging from his shoulder, a cold breeze brushing through him as he begins to walk back to campus. “Hey, Buck, solid practice today,” Sam Wilson, one of the tackles, pipes up from behind him. “Yeah, man, good job today,” Bucky replies, giving his teammate a fist bump. “Me and Parker are gonna grab a few drinks, you coming?”

Bucky laughs, the thought of Parker getting tipsy over a few pints entering his mind. He shakes his head, “I’ll pass tonight, man. Might go see my girl.”

Sam smirks before clasping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Alright, see you around.”

“Hey, take care of Parker, alright? Don’t want his aunt to find out he got wasted over a few cocktails!” Bucky calls out, earning a cackle from his teammate as he walks away.

He checks the time to find out practice ended a few minutes early so he sends you a quick message, knowing you’re probably still in class.

hey doll practice finished early

want me to walk you to your dorm? i should be able to swing by to pick you up from class

He waits for a few minutes before hearing a ping from his phone, gaze immediately falling to the screen.

no need. didn’t go to class today wasn’t feeling well.

oh? you want me to bring you some soup?

no its ok. thank u tho

anything for you, baby

do you want me to come over tho?

maybe next time, bucky. sorry

Bucky frowns, taking notice of the difference in the way you typed. You were colder than usual and you’d usually want to see him even when you weren’t feeling the best. He’s a bit disappointed too, wanting to take care of you until you get better, but knows to respect your wishes. So he brushes it off.

He shoots you a quick text saying he hopes you feel better soon before messaging Sam to say he’ll catch up with him and Parker in a few.

Looks like he’ll take up Sam’s offer after all.

–––––

Bucky cranes his neck over to the bleachers, but frowns when his eyes land on Nat sitting alone. You didn’t come to his practice today. Bucky would’ve been fine about it, but he knows you didn’t have any conflicting classes at this time and you would’ve messaged him beforehand if you weren’t able to come for whatever reason.

“Maybe she’s still feeling under the weather,” Steve reasons, following his best friend’s gaze towards the seats.

Bucky nods absentmindedly in response, “Yeah, I guess so.”

He was trying so hard to hide the fact that he was getting increasingly worried. He also doesn’t want to seem too clingy considering you’ve only been seeing each other for a short time. He’s only been in a handful of serious relationships before, and most of them happened when he was still a clueless teenager in highschool. You were the first person he was willing to be fully committed to after a few months of fooling around in college so he definitely does not want to screw things up.

After practice, he asks Nat if she knew where you were only to find out that Nat was just as clueless as he was. With a huff, Bucky fishes his phone out of his pocket.

missed you at practice today. still feeling sick?

“Hey,” Steve calls from behind him, Nat trailing closely behind. “Nat and I are gonna go study at the library, see you there?”

Bucky snorts. “By study at the library you mean get frisky by the shelves at the back? Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

Steve laughs as Nat drags him away from the field, patting Bucky’s back comfortingly before fully parting ways. This action goes unnoticed as Bucky’s eyes remain glued to his phone, waiting for your reply.

A few minutes pass and he grows antsy. He hesitantly types another message.

baby?

This time, you read the message, but still don’t reply. Bucky runs his hand through his hair, a sign that he was growing anxious. He looks around the field, desperately trying to find someone to talk to so he could take his mind off of you. To his dismay, the rest of the team either left or were still in the showers.

Bucky thinks about his next move.

i’m coming over.

He quickly stuffs his phone in his pocket and practically sprints over to your dorm, a million things racing in his mind. His chest tightens at the thought of you being in trouble, not really knowing what to expect when he sees you. If he sees you.

Bucky shakes his head to get rid of the image of him turning up at your dorm only to find it empty– he wouldn’t know where to begin looking for you considering you won’t reply to his messages. This is the first time you acted like this towards him, and Bucky tries to recall everything he’s said to you lately, attempting to think of anything that could have upset you. His pace slows down as he begins to question if he was overthinking things, his mind tricking him into thinking that he was being too clingy and it might turn you off. But with the absence of your replies and the assurance that you’re okay, Bucky’s strides become bigger and he picks up speed towards your dorm.

A head of brown hair meets his gaze as the door to your apartment swings open upon his knock. “Hey, Wanda,” Bucky greets your roommate, chest heaving and beads of sweat adorning his forehead. “I’m sorry for barging in all of a sudden. Is she..?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Wanda nods, opening the door wider for him to come in. Bucky nods his head as he enters. “She’s in her room,” Wanda mumbles before closing the door behind him.

Bucky mutters a “thank you” before walking towards your door, about to turn the handle, but hesitates for a second. Slowly taking his hand off the brass knob, he raises a hand and places two soft knocks on the door. “Doll,” he calls, loud enough that he’s sure you hear him, but gentle enough to not startle you. When he doesn’t hear a reply, he continues, “Can I come in?”

A few seconds later, a soft click from the other side fills his ears. Bucky takes this as a signal to slowly turn the knob and peak inside. He barely caught a glimpse of you walking back to your bed before he sees you pull the covers back to climb in, reassuming the position he figured you were in before you unlocked the door.

Bucky steps inside and if it wasn’t for him shutting the door behind him, separating the two of you from the noises outside your bedroom, he wouldn’t have heard the sniffles that were coming out of your mouth. Your back was facing him, but he can clearly tell that you were hugging your knees to your chest as you tried to control your breathing, desperately attempting to conceal your cries.

“Baby…” he breathes, approaching you cautiously and planting himself by your feet. Only then does he catch a glimpse of your face, your eyes puffy and cheeks tinted pink, presumably from crying for an extended period of time. Bucky frowns upon seeing you in this state. He’s seen you cry before, but it was usually from a sad movie or being stressed with homework. He doesn’t know why you are crying now, but he’s determined to find out. He places a hand on one of your calves and begins to rub soothing circles on it. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice as you begin to wipe the tears that were still trickling down your cheeks. “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?” Bucky persists, eyes still fixed on you. You shrug and the room falls silent as you close your eyes.

Bucky hears you take a deep breath before finally piping up. “Just feeling a little down,” you mumble, voice hoarse and barely loud enough for Bucky to catch. He moves his hand from your calf to one of your feet, giving it a soft squeeze before beginning to slowly press on its sole, easing the tense muscles and giving you a brief moment of peace.

Bucky tries to think of what to say, but is interrupted by the sound of his phone going off. Clicking his tongue, he grabs his phone to find a text from Pietro.

hey wya? im at the study hall

Cursing to himself, he suddenly remembers that he and Pietro agreed to meet tonight to work on a project they were partners in. Typing a quick reply to say that he’s on his way, he turns back to you before leaning over to press a kiss on your temple. “We all get blue sometimes, doll. We just gotta hang on, you know?” he attempts to comfort you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I gotta run, promised Pietro we’d do that project tonight. But I hope you feel better soon, baby. If you need anything, just text me, okay?”

–––––

You don’t text him at all that night.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the good morning text Bucky sent the next day, Bucky thinks you wouldn’t have texted him at all. Your replies grew colder and you became more distant, and Bucky was suffering.

“Dude, what’s up? If you’re not busy being a total grump, you’re staring at your phone like you’re expecting something to pop out of it,” Steve points out as he, Bucky, and Nat sit in the cafeteria to have lunch. Bucky grumbles before slamming his phone face down on the table and sliding it away from him. “It’s (Y/N),” he starts, “she’s been acting off for days now.”

Steve and Nat share a look before Nat pipes up, “Have you tried asking her why?” Bucky scoffs. “Well, duh!” Bucky exclaims, running his hands through his hair. “I went over to her’s last night, but she just told me she was just feeling a little down.”

“And what did you say?” Steve asks. Bucky’s eyes meet his friend’s as he sighs. “I told her everyone gets sad and that we should just hang on. I left after that because I had to do that history project with Maximoff.”

The table falls silent and Bucky begins to zone out, thinking that the conversation would end there, but is quickly brought back to reality when something hits him dead center in the face. “Ow!” Bucky shouts as his hand flies up to cradle his nose. His eyes land on the table, a bread roll laying in front of him, causing his gaze to shoot up at the red head sitting across him. “Did you just throw a bread roll at me?” Bucky asks, his eyes wide with disbelief and confusion.

“Well, duh!” Nat mocks, rolling her eyes at the brunette. “I always thought football players were dumb because of how much trauma their heads go through every game, but you’re on a whole ‘nother level, Buchanan.”

Bucky blinks. “Care to elaborate?”

Nat lets out an exasperated sigh before Steve butts in, “She’s obviously going through something, Buck. You can’t just tell her to suck it up.”

“Hellooooo!” Nat interjects, waving her hand in front of Bucky’s face as if what they were pointing out was the most obvious thing in the world. “She isn’t some jock going through a losing streak or something, actually be there for her, you know?”

“Would you cut me some slack? It’s the first serious relationship I’ve been in since highschool, I’m still getting a hang of things again,” Bucky glares. He eyes the bread roll in front of him before giving in and grabbing it to take a bite. Nat watches him, a look of disgust adorning her face.

The three of them sit in silence as Bucky contemplates on what to do. He picks up his phone to see no new messages from you, but his eyes catch the time. He knows you don’t have classes right now, and he figures you would just be in your dorm. He doesn’t want to ruin things with you, so he jolts up from his seat, catching the attention of the couple in front of him. “I’m gonna fix this,” he mumbles to himself before storming out of the cafeteria to head over to you.

“Atta boy!” Steve calls after him.

Bucky can feel his heart in his throat as he shakily knocks on your front door. To his surprise, you answer the door this time. His mouth starts to form a smile, but quickly turns into a frown when he takes in your form. At first, his heart skipped a beat when he noticed that you were wearing one of his shirts which was too big for you, the hem of it ending just by your thighs, and the bottom of one of his boxers peeking through it.

But once he caught the way your shoulders were slumped and the dark circles around your eyes, he knew better than to celebrate. “Hey,” he exhales, flashing a sad smile, “can I come in?”

You nod wordlessly before leaving the door ajar and making your way towards the couch. Bucky steps inside, shutting the door behind him before following suit. He sighs when he sees you on the couch, knees tucked closely to your chest and you watch whatever show is playing on the TV, eyes in an absent daze.

He takes a seat beside you, draping an arm across the back of the couch only for you to launch yourself towards him like it’s a reflex. You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest as he instinctively encases you in an embrace. Bucky’s heart breaks as he hears you rack out a sob, his thumb beginning to rub circles on your shoulder.

He gently places a kiss on your forehead as he feels his shirt become damp with your tears. “I’m sorry for leaving so soon the last time I was here,” he mumbles, lips still pressed to your temple.

You don’t answer back right away and Bucky is forced to listen to you cry, his heart shattering after every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“It’s just a drag,” you say between sniffles, “the world’s so mean.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows, not really understanding what you mean, but tries to think of something to say. His conversation with Steve and Nat replay in his mind as he desperately thinks of a reply, determined not to mess things up like last time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, testing out the waters. He takes note of your silence and whispers, “Something’s breaking my baby’s heart and I wanna know what.”

You let out a soft huff. “That’s the problem. I don’t know why I feel so down.”

The room falls silent. Bucky could hear his heartbeat in his ears, he felt his hands grow sweaty, his throat became dry, and his eyes began to prickle as tears started to form. He prays to whoever was listening before he asks.

“Is it me?”

“No, god no,” you shoot up, detaching yourself from him much to his dismay. Your eyes wide as he stares back at you with the same expression. Bucky looks down and begins to fiddle with his hands, another nervous tick of his, and you realize why he’s been so persistent about finding out what was making you upset.

Bucky was afraid that he was the reason you’re in pain.

You attempt to pacify his thoughts by placing your hands on both sides of his face. Bucky lets out a shaky breath as he leans into one of your hands, peppering it with feather-like kisses. You give him a teary smile. “It’s just that life’s so hard sometimes, you know?”

Bucky gives you a smile in return, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stares at you, trying to dig through the deepest parts of his brain to come up with something, anything, that could possibly make you feel better.

But before he could, you remove your hands from his cheeks and place them on your own as you wipe tears that you didn’t even know were flowing down your face. You stand up, causing Bucky to look at you in confusion. “You should go.”

“What? No,” he protests, standing up following you as you begin to walk towards the front door. Bucky’s mind is racing.

Come on, dumbass, say something. Anything!

He opens his mouth, “Baby–”

“I just need to rest, Buck,” you interrupt, opening the door. “It’s not you, I promise.”

You press a kiss on his cheek as he looks down at you with sad eyes.

You let out a small smile, “I’ll text you, okay?”

–––––

But you don’t.

You don’t text him even the day after that.

Bucky’s mind was spinning. He felt absolutely helpless, and if it wasn’t for the harsh sound of a whistle filling his ears, he wouldn’t have snapped out of his daze.

“Barnes!” the voice of his coach was enough for him to remember that he was in fact in the middle of the football field in the middle of practice. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you lately, but if you can’t pull yourself together then you’re benched for the next game. You hear me?” the coach shouts from across the field.

Bucky nods absentmindedly before shouting back, “Sorry, coach!”

He shakes his head, trying to retain focus and deciding to pay you one more visit later. Bucky didn’t know what to do nor say, but he sure isn’t leaving your dorm without mending things.

He sets those thoughts aside for now, and turns his attention back to his team.

Bucky figured he had totally zoned out during practice because it was only when Steve sat beside him did he realize that practice was over. “(Y/N) still not feeling okay?” Steve asks, sympathy dripping from his every word as he looks at Bucky whose eyes were going through all of the unanswered texts he sent you today.

good morning, doll

hope you’re feeling at least a little better today :)

–

don’t forget to eat

<33

–

just finished my trigonometry exam lol pretty sure i flunked it

–

call me if you need anything, okay?

–

found out parker has a gf lmaooo

i kept denying it til he introduced her to the whole team

you’d like her :) she’s smart like you

–

i miss you

please text me back

–

heading to practice

i miss you so much, doll

Bucky drops his head in his hands, tears threatening to spill. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Stevie,” he croaks. “I just wanna see her smile again.”

–––––

He’s met with Wanda again as the door to your dorm swings open. “Is she here?” Bucky stutters, not even bothering to apologize for showing up unannounced. Wanda shakes her head, “No, she’s been gone since last night.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he swears he almost felt his heart stop at Wanda’s words. His breathing quickens and his chest grows tight as Wanda ushers him into the apartment. “What do you mean she’s been gone since last night? Has she talked to you today?” Wanda shakes her head again, “I’ve been texting her since this morning, but she hasn’t replied to any of it.”

Bucky runs his hands through his hair as he begins to think about what could’ve happened to you. He starts to make a list of who to call, frantically trying to think of ways to locate you. This was it, he thought. This was how he lost you forever. If he just knew what to say at the right time, if he had just been a good boyfriend to you, this wouldn’t have happened and you wouldn’t be gone.

He can’t breathe, his mind begins to scramble and his vision turns foggy. Bucky clutches a hand to his chest to try and ground himself, forcing himself to think.

Think, Barnes, think!

Just as he was about to dial 911, they hear the sound of keys rattling from the other side of the door causing both his and Wanda’s heads to snap towards its direction. Bucky holds his breath, uttering a dozen prayers in his head, hoping that it was you.

It’s only when he sees you walk through the door did the tears finally start to flow. He bounds over to you and instantly throws his arms around you, pushing your head towards his chest. Bucky silently thanks whoever granted his prayers as one of his hands fly to rest behind your head before placing a bruising kiss on your forehead. After this, he rests his chin on top of your head and looks up, desperately trying to keep any more tears at bay.

“I’ve been worried sick, doll, where were you?” he asks, trying to hide the fact that he’s been crying, but the crack in his voice gives it away. “Hmpff mff humff,” he hears you mumble against his chest, drawing a teary chuckle from him as he pulls away. “Sorry, come again?”

“I went over to my parents to try and cheer myself up, I’m sorry I should’ve told you where I was going, I had my phone off the whole day and—”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky laughs breathlessly, pulling you back into him. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He sees Wanda slowly retreat back into her room to give you space. The two of you stand there in silence, holding each other as you relish in the feeling of being in each other’s arms.

“I don’t know if I’m okay, honestly,” you say, quietly.

“And that’s perfectly fine, too,” Bucky replies, cradling your face in his hands. “Listen I know I haven’t been dealing with this as best as I could but—”

“No, Bucky–”

“Let me finish, doll. I know I'm still trying to find my footing with all of this, but I want you to know that I'll be here no matter what, okay? When you’re happy, when you’re sad, or even when you don’t know what you’re feeling.”

You smile at him gratefully, resting your hands on top of his. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me recently. I think college is just getting to me or something. It feels like I always wanna find the rain even on a sunny day, you know?”

Bucky continues to stare into your eyes, sadness glazing over them. You shake your head and begin to pull away, “Forget it, it sounds stupid–”

“Woah hey, no,” Bucky interjects, placing his hands on your hips. “It doesn’t sound stupid. I may not fully understand what you’re feeling, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

You shake your head. “I really don’t wanna drag you into this, you have so many things on your plate–”

You’re interrupted by Bucky placing his lips on yours, engulfing you in a kiss so passionate, it takes your breath away.

“But I’m in it for the long run with you,” he mutters against your lips.

You stumble because for the months you’ve been together, the future never really fell into conversation between the two of you. With your schedules being so hectic, you and Bucky wordlessly settled with just going with the flow, and you were fine with that. But upon hearing the words leave Bucky’s lips, you began to think what this meant.

Bucky tenderly places his hands back on your cheeks, rubbing them softly in order to soothe you. “If it feels like life is dragging you down, then hang on ‘cause I'll be your bodyguard,” he starts, earning a soft chuckle from you which urges him to continue. “If you feel like the whole world is a red flag, then I'll be with you to look for the green, and hell, if you wanna find rain on a sunny day then I’ll be there to dance all through the pain with you, doll.”

Tears start to flow down your face, once again, as you smile. You smile in a way that Bucky hasn’t seen from you for the past few days. He smiles back.

“But you gotta try to talk to me, okay?” he pipes up, wiping your tears with his thumbs before pressing another kiss on the top of your head. “I know I’m a meathead, but I promise I wanna try to understand what you’re feeling so I can help.”

You nod against his lips as Bucky lets out a breath. You stay that way for a while, and Bucky was already satisfied with how the conversation turned out, vowing himself not to push you further into talking things out. It isn’t until he hears you mumble the words he’s been longing to tell you for so long that he feels his world come to a halt.

“I love you.”

This is the first time these words were uttered between the two of you, and Bucky feels his chest tighten again, but this time, it was due to an overwhelming sense of joy. He pulls you tighter against him before breathing out, “I love you too. So much.”

It was then Bucky realized that he didn’t need to mend things when you’re feeling this way. As much as he’d like to take away the pain, he knew that reminding you that he’ll always be there despite it is, and always will be, enough.

–––––

A/N: hope you guys liked this one! highly recommend listening to the song itself, cuz it brings me so much comfort and i hope it brings you comfort too! <33

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au #buck barnes college au #marvel #the avengers #football player!bucky barnes #college!bucky barnes

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kazuko-stuff · 2 months

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Batsis as Vtuber and Batfam finds out, save it for Stephanie and Alfred

When you started out

You decided to try vtubing when you notice that you don’t have to show your face online

Since your family is too busy doing their nightly activities, you stream games as a way to pass time.

You usually stream FPS, retro, fashion and RPG games since it takes the most time

Overtime, you decided to try song karaoke streams after seeing other Vtubers doing singing, since you always wanted to be a singer but was too shy

You became well known overtime due to gaming content style and singing

Stephanie found out when she was watching your streams after hearing your voice and often do collabs together

If you join an agency

Overtime, you audition for well known Vtuber agencies that focus not only on streaming, but singing and dancing.

You got accepted to be part of the first generation of agency and Steph decided to join as she is also a fan of their talents.

Your avatar is based on a fairy godmother princess and your lore is being a fairy godmother in training from another world to bring happiness to others

Your fan base is known as fairies and members are part of the Designers. Your mascot is a cat name Momo

Your goals include having an original album, 500k subscribers, to meet your oshis, and perform live

If you have 1 million subscribers, you plan to coordinate a special outfit for the CEO as he is a legend, a chad and best girl

You befriend your other genmates and enjoyed being part of their projects

Because of your princess fairy-godmother image, along with Alfred raising you, you are seen the most Seiso of the group but there is still Yabai moments within the stream

You do French zatsudan, along with French classes streams, baking streams and embroidery and jewelry streams

Alfred is aware of your secret and is supporting you on the sideline. He always helps out with your projects and does contact your manager for help sometimes.

After reaching a big number of fairies, you have Alfred join your stream as a special guest star due to the fans wanting to see him

He is known as the fairy grand-pere and gave him an avatar with a lore that he is likely an envoy of family and was sent to help the royal family of all fairy guardians.

You two played Grand Theft Auto together and Alfred ended up getting to most shots along with many superchats from the fairies ( almost $5,000). He also answered the fans questions in a Q&A with him

You eventually had your first cover and did more favorite anime songs ( shojo anime)

You decided to work on your first original, focusing on a song that would match your image

You decided to due to 12 hour endurance stream for fun and that’s when your father found out

You were playing Hitman, when you were staying at the Mansion and he came to your door to see if you are alright, after hearing some game sounds thinking someone broke in, causing you to do an intermission break.

He asks why are still playing videos game in 1 in the morning and your told him that you must haven’t check the time only to notice your waiting load screen causing him to realize that you do streaming in secret, causing he go back to what he was doing, do to awkwardness

Tim found out after he watched Steph’s stream, when your gen-mates collaborated together, when he heard your voice and decided to be a Fairy to support you. He is amazed at your Japanese skills when you collaborate with other members in Japan.

Dick and Barbara found out when you were doing a karaoke stream at one point and joined your membership. You found out after seeing Dick’s super chat message

Damian found out after he overheard you during an ASMR Zatsudan, telling fairytale stories and singing lullabies, leaving him confuse why your doing this

Cass sometimes appears as a special guest in your stream and sometimes in Stephs.

Your father even sent a generous red superchat, showing he is supportive of your Vtuber activities. He is nicknamed by your fans Fairy God-daddy much to your flustered state and even got fanart based on your avatar. It didn’t help that you mention he is very popular among the ladies.

Overall they are willing to go to your concert, when you have one in person or go crazy on buying your merch. They also go to your special events as well when they have time.

Harley Quinn is also a big fan of yours and is part of your membership. She never misses a stream.

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spidervee · 1 year

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afterglow (tangerine x reader)

summary: tangerine finds himself falling for the girl next door (part 1/3) words: 3.1k warnings: fem!reader, lotsa swears, sexual thoughts, implied sexual situations, implied violence, implied drug use, no use of y/n, neighbours to lovers trope, tangerine's angry inner monologue is a warning all its own, lemon being the best

You’re determined to move your groceries from the boot of your car to the front porch in a single trip. Mind, there’s not more than a dozen or so steps between the two, but it’s the principle of the matter—one trip is so much more satisfying than two. However, your determination did not account for the fact that you bought a family-sized box of Cheerios, a bag of flour, and a carton of eggs along with your usual run of fruits, vegetables, and pasta. Thus, you’re more than a little off-balance as you shoulder your canvas tote bags, your body tilting dangerously toward the left as you try to close the boot with the three fingers on your right hand that remain free. You miss, staggering forward and hitting your knees against the bumper and hissing out a curse.

“You quite alright there, love?” An amused voice distracts you from the pain of what will doubtlessly become a tender spot, though the sudden realisation that you have an audience is horrible, embarrassment flooding through you as you straighten up and try to look composed.

“Brilliant,” you call back, refusing to look at the man you know is watching you. It’s the bloke next door, on the right, the tall one with the blue eyes and the weirdly retro moustache and the suits that look far too expensive for this neighbourhood.

You’ve never exchanged more than a few words at a time with him, only interacting when necessary—the time a package of his got delivered to your porch, the time your cat climbed the drooping branches of the willow tree in his yard, and the time he’d nearly run you over with his car during your morning run. Admittedly, that last time had been rather terse, though it hadn’t stopped the minimal pleasantries neighbours were meant to exchange. The two of you still nodded politely at one another if you happened to cross paths. Sometimes you’d give a wave that he would return with a slightly more emphatic nod than his usual.

So, it surprises you when he starts down his drive toward yours, flicking away the cigarette that had been dangling from his lips moments earlier. You try to hastily correct yourself, balance your posture, rearrange your bags so that you don’t look so helplessly overwhelmed, but his legs are too long and he’s by your side in just a few strides, helping you shrug off one of the totes, and then another.

“Gonna break your bloody back,” he mutters, tone disapproving as he lifts the bags effortlessly in one hand and carries them to your front door.

“I was managing,” you say sharply, embarrassment getting the best of you. He snorts, a derisive noise that only seeks to send your guard up even further, a scowl writing itself across your face. “I was!”

“A simple thank you is all I need, love.” He turns to face you with those dazzling blue eyes and your throat feels suddenly dry, your body pinned under his stare. You want to protest, to underscore the fact that you’ve unloaded your groceries alone more than a hundred times and his little show of chivalry was entirely unnecessary.

But all you can do is swallow, watching as his tattooed hands pull a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his tailored trousers.

“Thanks,” you mutter. A grin turns up the corners of his mouth as he lights his cigarette and presses it between his lips. With a nod, he’s heading down your steps and back to his own porch, not another word exchanged between the two of you.

You can’t stop thinking about him, damn it. Three days later and you’re still remembering the way his eyes danced over you, somehow appraising and appreciative all at once. You think you want to see more of him, feel his hands, that moustache scratching along the inside of your thighs.

Maybe it’s been a while since you got laid.

Because you shouldn’t be having these thoughts about the bloke next door—he’s definitely dodgy. He keeps odd hours and disappears for questionable stretches of time. He only ever has one visitor, a friendly bloke, sure, but almost as dodgy, driving a different car nearly every month. And you’re fairly certain you once saw him coming home with blood spattered on his crisp white shirt—not that you were watching, no, you’d just happened to be bringing in the shopping at the time.

Still, when you find yourself out of sugar in the middle of baking cookies for tomorrow’s fundraiser, you’re desperate. And Mrs. Barry on the left is out at her daughter’s, so you’ve no choice but to go knock on the door and ask porn-stache if he can do you a real quick favour.

You’re not sure what’s worse. That he answers the door with a gruff “whaddaya want?”

Or that he’s shirtless, belt buckle hanging open and trousers slung low around his hips.

“Sugar,” you manage to squeak out. And he raises a thick eyebrow at you, amused.

“Right, sorry,” he grins, the gruffness gone in favour of something almost teasing. “Whaddaya want, sugar?”

Tangerine never gets visitors, unless he’s counting Lemon. He doesn’t count Lemon because it’s fuckin’ Lemon. There’s obligation there. Call it business. Call it brotherly love. Call it bloody codependency.

And Lemon has a key. He never knocks. In fact, knocking is utterly fucking suspect in Tangerine’s humble opinion. It meant you were either going to open the door to the world’s dumbest fuckin’ assassin or someone was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. Or it was the lad delivering curry. But he hadn’t ordered any curry.

So it’s not his fault, really, when he slips his gun into his back pocket before opening the door. The heft of it pulls his trousers ever so slightly more down his hips, but he’d been about to get into the shower and whoever the bastard at the door is doesn’t deserve his decency, not when they’re knocking on his fucking door like he’s invited them over for tea.

But when he opens the door, his brow furrows immediately because there’s that sweet-looking bird from next door just stood on his bloody porch like she belongs there, eyes wide and a shy smile on her face. Tangerine takes care to puff up his chest a little bit because suddenly he’s not so terribly annoyed.

Although the gun pressing into his tailbone is a fucking nuisance.

There’s a plate in your hands, piled high with something that’s wrapped in aluminium, and you hold it out in his direction by way of greeting. Tangerine just looks at your offering, unaccustomed to receiving things.

“Cookies,” you explain, “From the sugar I borrowed.”

His brain searches for a snarky remark, a teasing word, anything to make this feel less intimate than it does because you’re standing on his porch with cookies you made for him like he’s not a bloody bastard who killed six men in Cape Town three weeks ago. But, his traitorous brain supplies nothing—not a single syllable to his suddenly parched tongue.

So, he blinks at you, unsure what to say. His first instinct is to laugh, but he manages to suppress that and instead allows you to instead shove the plate of cookies into his hands and wave an awkward little goodbye.

“Thanks,” he mutters, watching you walk away with the oddest sense of déja vu. But your front door has already closed behind you.

Inside, Tangerine sets the plate aside on the corner of the counter, beside the spice rack and tucked away so he doesn’t have to think about the cookies. It’s less about the cookies themselves and more about the inkling of warmth that filled him when you graciously handed him the plate, a small smile playing on your lips like you knew they were fucking delicious.

He has no intention of eating them. For all he knows, they’re laced with bloody poison. More likely, though, is that they’ll taste like the things he’s missing in his life and that’s so much more fucking depressing.

He decides to shower, if for no other reason than to wash away the feelings you’ve left like electricity rippling along his skin. And, if he’s being honest, the shower is the best place for him to think about you right now. For…reasons.

When he emerges, he’s calmer and decidedly happier…until he spies Lemon at his kitchen island, the plate of your cookies—his cookies—open in front of him.

“Bruv, these cookies are fucking ace.”

“No, you daft cunt don’t eat those!”

Lemon doesn’t even pause in chewing, fixing his brother with a confused stare, eyebrows quirked. “Why the hell not?”

“They’re…fucking hell, Lemon can’t you just listen?” Tangerine is incensed, hands wringing, “You always hafta ask a million questions like you’re the fucking coppers. Really gets on my tits, you know?”

“You’re angry,” Lemon says through a mouthful of cookie.

“Bloody brilliant observation. Sherlock fucking Holmes over here. Call Scotland fucking Y….”

“It’s not about the cookies.” Lemon cuts off his ranting with a well-timed observation.

Tangerine breathes out heavily through his nose. “Sod off.”

“Is it about a girl?”

“Not a bloody girl.”

“A boy?”

“For Chrissake, Lemon we’re not in the fourth fucking grade!”

“It’s that pretty little bird next door, innit?”

“Fuck off.”

He returns the plate with a handwritten note on a Post-It. His penmanship is nice enough, a neat if somewhat loopy cursive, telling you thank you for the cookies. It was Lemon’s fucking idea, being neighbourly and all that shite. He rings your bell, glad when you don’t answer so he can simply leave the plate on your welcome mat.

You’re pruning roses the next time he sees you and the look of focus on your face, the way your tongue pokes out from between your lips, almost makes him smile—bloody fucking hell, who is he?

Unlucky for him, you notice him and wave, shears in your raised hand so you look a bit barmy until you realise you’re waving a weapon around and quickly tuck them sheepishly behind your back. Tangerine, in a stunning display of idiocy that he will later want to smash his head into a wall over, begins to walk toward you. Like you’re a goddamn magnet. No, stronger than that. The sunshine around which the fucking earth of his own body has begun to orbit. Gravity makes no fucking sense anymore because if it did he would not be falling for the cute smile you fix him with, the stunningly normal and carefree way you adjust your sunhat and point out that your climbing roses are almost taller than you; the manner in which you wrinkle your nose at him and inform him—as if he doesn’t fucking know—that you don’t even know his name.

He gives you the name on his most recent fake ID, Andrew—a perfectly nice and proper name, but then shakes his head. “Mates just call me Tangerine,” he tells you, neglecting to say that his enemies call him that as well, along with some choice other words.

“Tangerine?” More nose wrinkling and Tangerine is ready to take his own knees out with a billy club because they’re getting weaker by the fucking second standing here with you.

“It’s a footie thing,” he lies, “That bloke you see coming and going is Lemon. He plays goal”

“You play football?”

More lies. More small talk. Until Lemon’s car pulls up and Tangerine is torn between relieved to see his brother and wanting to throw him off the fucking face of the earth. He tells you he best be going. You nod, holding out your hand, encased as it is in thick gardening gloves up to the elbow.

“It was nice to meet you, Tang—oh! Sorry, is it just a footie thing?”

He takes your proffered hand and gives it a small squeeze. “No, love, you can call me whatever you’d like.”

It’s 3 in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning as seemingly every embarrassing childhood moment comes back to haunt you from the depths of your mind. Since your bedroom is no refuge and you don’t particularly feel like catching anything on the telly, you seek a moment of solace on the porch, wondering if maybe, for once, the stars are out.

But the only light, aside from the artificial yellow of the streetlamps, is the low glow of cigarette embers on Tangerine’s porch and you narrow your eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of his figure in the shadowy night.

“Can’t sleep, love?” His voice rings through the silence and you take it as an invitation to walk over and join him.

“One of those nights, I guess.” You shrug as you drop down onto the porch swing next to him. It’s an oddly homey thing to have there, you think, for a man who is not always home. Tangerine makes a noise of agreement in his throat. He’s familiar with those nights, has them every so often when his birthday is coming up and those incessant thoughts about what he’s done with his life start to creep up on him.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence until your head drops to the side, landing on his shoulder. If Tangerine is surprised by the contact, he doesn’t show it, remaining still other than the slight shift to accommodate you.

There, on his porch, in the summer heat, you fall asleep against Tangerine, leaving him to glance up at the starless sky in askance because it all feels alarmingly normal and he doesn’t hate it.

There’s screaming on the lawn. Not his lawn, so he shouldn’t really get involved, but the angry voice of a man calls out your name and his ears perk up, less out of interest and more out of a sudden desire to murder any bastard who dares raise his voice at you.

Quietly, Tangerine slips out his front door to see what’s unfolding. You’re stood on your porch, arms crossed over your chest in defiance. There’s a man on the lawn, consumed by rage by the looks of it, and Tangerine contemplates popping inside to grab his gun.

“You stupid bitch!”

“Get the fuck out.” Your voice is hard and Tangerine feels a stitch of pride at how stoic and unaffected you look by the absolute meltdown happening ten feet in front of you. But then, the man threatens to kill you and Tangerine is across his yard faster than he’s ever moved before, his fingers wrapped tightly around this fucking bloke’s wrist, staying him.

“I think fucking not, mate,” Tangerine’s voice is low and threatening. “You touch her and I will cut every fucking one of your fingers off then shove them up your bastard arse before I fucking kill you. You don’t even fucking look at her. Tuck you tail between your legs and get the fuck out of here before you make me do something I’m gonna have too much fun doing to fucking regret.”

It all happens quickly after that. The man shrugs Tangerine off, curses at him, looks about to pick a fight but must see the seasoned glint of violence in his blue eyes because he curses again and leaves in the car that’s been idling in front of your house the entire time.

Tangerine turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow and he knows it’s a stupid fucking thing to say but he goes ahead and says it anyways because he can’t fucking help himself. “Didn’t mention you had a boyfriend, love.”

To his surprise, you laugh. Loud. Heartily. It almost makes the tears that have welled up in your eyes disappear, but he can still see them. “That wanker was not my boyfriend.” When he looks at you, silently giving you space to continue, you sigh. “Brother,” you clarify, “He stops by once in a while for money.”

Tangerine nods and you step into the front door, leaving it ajar for him to follow. “I’m making some tea,” you call over your shoulder, “Care to join me?”

After that, he starts stopping in regularly.

At first it’s just tea, sipped across from one another at the small glass table in your breakfast nook. Tangerine greets your cat, settles into his seat, talks about the latest book he’s reading. You try not to smile too big when Shelley, the cat in question, curls up on Tangerine’s lap, nor when he pretends to be cross about fur on his expensive pants. You pour the tea, respond in kind about the things you’re reading, complain a little bit about work and eventually, because he doesn’t offer the information freely, ask what it is he does for a living.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but when, with zero hesitation, he tells you he’s a banker you’re a little surprised.

Soon, tea turns into suppers spent with your feet kicked up on the coffee table, plates balanced on laps—much to Shelley’s dismay as it means Tangerine’s legs are unavailable for snuggling.

You find yourself growing fonder of this man who has carved his way into your heart, made a place for himself amongst the fixtures of your home. He’s got sharp edges, certainly, yet you can’t help but to get caught on them, snagged on the roughness of him.

After six or seven or eight dinners—you’ve lost count—you realise you want more. You don’t want to say goodbye to him only to retreat to your empty bed and thoughts of his hands and his lips. So when he says he ought to be going, you take a leap of faith.

“Wait,” you whisper, gathering your nerve, hoping you haven’t grossly misjudged the situation. “Stay?” You voice quivers on the word, makes you sound uncertain, so you steel your nerves and try again. “I want you to stay.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen Tangerine look flummoxed, look anything less than totally and completely sure of himself. He leans in slightly, clasps his hand over where you’re still holding his arm. “Love,” his voice is low, so dangerously low you might just fall into him straining to hear, “If I stay…”

His words trail off, but you know what he’s implying. If he stays then you’ve crossed a line there’s no uncrossing. If he stays, he’ll want all of you that you’re willing to give. If he stays, he’ll absolutely ruin you for anyone who might come after him.

“Stay,” you repeat, pressing your forehead to his.

So he does.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine x reader fluff #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x reader smut

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spacetimesally · 5 months

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A syndication promo for the original, classic Spacetime Sally starring Vivian Larsen

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machetegirl109 · 10 months

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Synopsis: Physical activities were not something you enjoyed. Never participating and distracting other students was all you did during class; but as soon as the new P.E teacher’s aid catches you slacking, she decides to teach you a lesson. *inspiration: bad liar by selena gomez*

Warnings: 18+, MIDN, F/F, suggestive and offensive language, 80s!AU, abby is 19yo & reader is 18yo, smut, top!abby, bottom!reader, dom!abby, sub!reader, thigh riding, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), after care, T.A!abby x popular!reader

important info about my stories here

©machetegirl109 (credits to bad liar by selena gomez that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms

Word Count: 3.5k+

Oneshot: Bad Liar

❝︎you're taking up a fraction of my mind❞︎

The mid-day sunlight entered through the gymnasium windows just right. The sound of shoes squeaking against the light wooden floor along with vivid and loud voices were present as the ladies played around and talked to each other, waiting for the teacher’s arrival to the last class of the day. The girls were wearing a loose fitting white t-shirt with a small logo of the school printed on the right side of the chest, the low-cut sleeves colored navy blue as well as the matching pair of shorts. Tall retro socks with two blue stripes and a red one in the middle covered their calves, each of them wore a different brand of worn out white sneakers.

Your high top vans tapped onto the floor as you sat on the bleachers, elbows positioned over each knee while you kept your head high and talked to some of your classmates who surrounded you. Ever since the beginning of the school year you seemed to attract other girls. Not only your good looks, but also your “I’m too cool for this,” energy made them fall head over heels for you; making them chase after you every day — The most lucky girls were the ones who also had Physical Education on the last period of their schedules, just like you. You weren’t fond of the class; either always showing up 5 minutes before it was time to leave, or laying on the bleachers while the others runned around and participaded on the sports.

What even is the point of running around chasing after balls? There are better ways to exercise.

“Alright, ladies! Get in line!” Joel Miller, the gym teacher, yelled as he got into the gym, pushing the double doors hard enough to make them knock on the walls, letting out a loud bang. Everyone stopped talking as soon as he made his way to the middle of the space with a tall, muscular blonde girl walking beside him, silent as she observed the spacious gymnasium and all the students present there. The girls that previously talked to you went ahead to join the line that was forming and Joel soon stopped in front of them, holding his clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. The blonde curiously stares in your direction, seeing you lazily seated over the aluminum while the others stood before the teacher.

“First things first, M’ gonna do the roll call and then we’ll go over some things! Amber?”

“Here.” Joel wrote a checkmark beside her name and followed to the next.

“Ellie?”

“Sup’ teach’.”

“Dina?”

“I’m here, teacher.” As he called out each name, the girls announced their presence and he scribbled down onto the paper, eyes never leaving the list.

“Okay, last but not least, Y/N?” Joel finally looked up, eyes going through the line of girls in front of him as he looked for his least favorite student.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You called out from your seat, all of those inside the warm gymnasium looked over to you; a shameless smile on your face when you waved your hand.

“Ah, glad you finally decided to join us for class today.” He dryly chuckes, adding a checkmark to your name. “M’ not even gonna ask whatcha doin’ sitting down.” You giggle at the annoyed tone in his voice and he turns back to the other students. “So, from today on we’re gonna have a new addition to the class! I want you all to welcome Abigail Anderson!” Joel points to the girl beside him, who stands proud with her arms crossed and her braid falling onto her broad shoulder. Abby opens a small smile and nods as the girls babble hellos’ and welcomes’. “Abby here, will be working as my T.A for the rest of the school year so make sure to respect her and follow her orders, understood?” The girls nod and let out sounds in agreement.

“Thanks, I'm looking forward to working with you all.”

“With that out of the way, we’ll be playing volleyball today! I want one team on each side of the court, now!” Joel blows his red whistle and the students start to get ready in two different teams as you only sit back and watch. He turns to Abby and begins to give her some heads up on how things work during class and what to expect.

“What about that one?” She points to you, who looks bored as you pick out your nails and talk to Ellie and Dina. Joel blows the whistle once more, making you and the two girls look back at him.

“Ellie and Dina! I advise you two to go play or I’ll give y'all zero’s for the day!” The girls shoot you an apologetic look, wishing they could talk to you a little longer since they were enamored by your charming presence. You wave them a small goodbye and Joel directs his attention to Abby once more. “I gave up on her a long time ago, all she does is sit around and distract the other girls; that is when she actually shows up. Definitely the worst student I’ve ever had in all my 30 years of teaching.”

“She’s that bad, huh?”

“Y/N has an F in P.E, which is the easiest class in her entire schedule… She’ll most likely fail.” He says in disbelief and they both look at you.

“Hm, maybe I can help,” The blonde says, a small smirk forming on her face.

“Yeah? What do you suggest?”

“She can stay after class and do some extra-credit, maybe run some laps, play some volley, just to make up for the time she wastes in class. I could also make her clean the gymnasium afterwards.” Joel smiles at the ideas and nods, patting her on the back.

“Great. You’ll definitely make a good teacher someday, Abigail!” Abby thanks him, and soon they switch their attention to the game.

After 30 minutes the class comes to an end as Joel checks the time in his Seiko Diver wrist watch. Placing the small whistle between his lips and blowing on it with force, he claps his hands together signaling to the girls that it was finally time to go home.

“Alright , ladies! Class is over, you’re all free to go!” The students drop the volleyball to the floor and begin to make their way to the exit. You stand and stretch your body, a wide playful smile on your face.

“Ahh, thank God, I was about to fall asleep here!” You say walking towards the double doors, but as soon as you reach for the handle, Joel shouts your name, making you stop on your track. “Need something, Mr. Miller?”

“No, but you do. You need to get a passing grade for my class and Abby will make sure you do. You’re staying here until she tells you to go, understood?” Your face falls to the ground as you look at the girl beside him. She’s wearing a tight light yellow t-shirt under a red sports jacket and some white shorts that exposed her strong, pretty legs, as well as tall white socks that hugged her thick calves and a worn off Adidas Top Ten RB — At least she’s cute you think before the current situation hits you again.

“What? Why?!” You ask shocked, making your way towards the middle of the room, where both of them stood.

“ ‘Cause you’re falling and Abby was kind enough to suggest you earn some extra-credit.” You groan loudly and throw your head back. “I’ll be off now. Be sure to behave, Y/N. Don’t cause me any more problems. Good luck, Abigail.” You watch as Joel leaves, leaving you and Abby alone. You turn to the girl, a bitter smile on your face as you think of what to say next.

“Ha… You could’ve been kind enough to keep your suggestions to yourself. I can’t believe I have to spend the rest of my Friday here! I had plans, you know?” You ask sacarstily, as you move forward, chest to chest with her. Abby looks down at your pretty face, a pout on your lips as she lets out a small laugh; making fun of your anger.

“I’ll be kind enough to suggest you keep that pretty mouth shut and run 100 laps around the gymnasium.” A naughty grin plays on her lips as her blue eyes stare into yours. “Now, princess.”

“You’re fucking joking right now, I’m not running—“

“150 laps now.” You gasp and try to push her, failing to since Abby is built like a tank.

“You’re not the boss of me, I don’t have to do anything!”

“Now I am, and yes, you do. Now run me 150 laps and I want you to count them out loud every time you finish one.” Abby states, grabbing the whistle that hangs from her neck and placing them between her pinkish lips, blowing into it and making the loud pitch hurt your ears.

“Ugh! The fuck is your problem?!” You say as your hands go up to your now sensitive ears, massaging them; you throw the girl before you a dirty look.

“The more you whine, the more you run. 200 now. Go.” Hearing the seriousness of her voice, you shoot her another expression before you walk to the side of the court; quietly calling her a cunt as you get ready to run. “I heard that!” You roll your eyes and you run, counting each lap as you reach the starting point before circling the gym, over and over again. Sweat accumulates around your forehead as your body begins to feel warm and tired, your legs ache as tremble and all Abby does is stand there, staring at you. Soon you reach the 200 count. You stop running and you press your hands on top of both knees, your chest rising fast as you catch your breath.

“I-I’m fucking done now.” You shout and close your eyes, thanking the Gods you can finally go home now. Abby laughs and you look at her, not sure of what is so funny.

“I don’t think you are. Come here,” She says as she grabs the volleyball that was on the floor. “We'll play a bit and then you're cleaning the gymnasium, princess, you can go home when you're done.” Abby throws the ball in your direction and you shrug away from it, like it was contaminated and you didn't want to catch whatever disease it carried. “You know, if you actually participated in class instead of sitting there n’ look pretty, you wouldn't have to be here?”

“Oh, so you think I'm pretty?” A playful smile makes its way to your lips as you cross your arms.

“If anything, I think you're lazy and a distraction to the students.” She answers you, annoyed by your lack of care towards the class. “Get the ball and bring it to me.” You walk towards where the ball landed and grab it, making your way towards Abby.

“So, you think I'm a distraction because I'm pretty.” You stop in front of her, pushing the volleyball to her chest.

“I didn't say that. Now get into position and play me until you win.”

Abby walks to one left side of the court and you to the right; each of you stopping a couple feet away from each other. She serves the ball and you do your best to receive it, returning it to her as you messily position your hands closed together, making the ball go back to her side of the court. You two keep volleying the ball back and forth, Abby making multiple points while you had the total of zero.

“Okay, let's stop. You're way too bad at this.” The girl says after holding onto the ball for the last time you threw. You stretch your arms, tired from all the movement, legs sore from the running, body sweating under your P.E attire. “Grab the mop from the supply closet and get to work.”

You tiredly nod and follow her orders, just wanting to take a shower to go home. After cleaning the whole wooden floor of the gymnasium, you put the bucket and the mop back to their original place and you walk towards Abby, who's sitting at your previous spot on the bleachers.

“I'm done. Can I go now?” Your exhausted voice comes out as you stop in front of her and she looks up at your sweaty and worn out face.

“Yeah, just do whatever you need to do in the locker room so I can lock it and go home, too.” Abby says, standing up and you follow after her as she makes her way to said area.

“I'm gonna take a shower so, guess you'll just have to wait ‘till I’m done.” You begin to strip your shirt off in front of your locker once you two are inside and Abby sits down, her eyes locked on the ground.

“Just hurry up, I have things to do.”

After getting rid of your clothes you grab a towel and a liquid soap you have in your locker and make your way to the showers, sliding one of the curtains open as you get in closing it again. You turn the water to a hot temperature, taking your time to wash yourself up and let the water fall onto your sore muscles. As the minutes go by, Abby shouts out to you, warning you get out soon or she'll just leave you here. Almost thirty minutes go by and she’s had enough, standing up and walking towards your stall; she pulls the plastic curtain open and you gasp, covering your chest.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell and press yourself onto the cold walls as she reaches her hand inside, turning the water off. She grabs your shower from the hanger and shoves it in your direction.

“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you who needs to spend an eternity showering?! Go get dressed, now!” You wrap yourself in your soft towel and push her out of your way as you head back to your locker.

“You're such a bitch. You already ruined my friday night and now I can't even take a fucking shower.” You mumble and she stops next to you, watching as you drop your towel on the bench. Abby’s face turns red and her breath stops for a second, her eyes scan your naked body before she comes back to reality.

“Y-you ruined it your own by not doing anything at the easiest fucking class you have.” You turn to her as you roll the deodorant under your armpits. Her eyes fall to your chest, nipples poking out in all their glory. You talk back at her but she hears nothing, all her attention goes to the way your tits move as your breath in-and-out. You place your hygiene product back to your locker, eyes never leaving her face as hers never left your boobs.

“Are you fucking listening to me?!” You attempt to push her for the second time today, but she's faster and stronger, grabbing your hands as she backs you against the locker. A wave of lust makes its way through your veins, stopping right at your core. The sound of your body hitting against the metal echoes in the empty locker room as Abby diverts her attention to your lips. Her blue eyes seem devil-like as she looks at you – Her face displaying a hungry expression.

“I had enough of your bitchy comments today. Let me make something else come out of that pretty mouth, yeah?” Abby whispers, a raspy voice sounding like music to your ears as she gently rubs her nose against yours. You feel yourself getting wet, the between of your thighs getting more slippery with each passing second. You nod your head fast, needy eyes looking back to her.

Abby closes the small distance between your lips, smacking them together with fervor as she lets go of your hands and brings her own to the side of your face; thumbs pressed onto each side of your jaw as her palm and fingers gripped your neck. You kiss her back, licking and biting her bottom lip as you pull it back with your teeth. She chases your face back and her tongue invades your warm mouth; your hands go up, holding onto her wrists and she gently massages the pads of her thumbs onto your soft skin.

“Can I touch you, princess?” Abby asks, breaking the kiss as she looks at you.

“Yes, please do, Abs.” This time, you push her towards you by the neck, press another kiss onto her lips and her left hand goes down your leg, opening both of them apart as she places her thigh between them. Abby moans at the contact of your dripping wet pussy onto her uncovered skin, and you throw your head back as you feel yourself slipping onto her with ease.

As she holds one of your legs, guiding your movements, her other hand reaches your chest, going directly to your nipple. She spits on it and begins to flick it rapidly; you moan as you feel the immense pleasure run through all your body.

“Look at you, all wet n’ slippery for me. My pretty, bitchy princess.” Abby pecks your lips and moves her hand from your chest to your cunt, spreading your moist lips and exposing your needy clit to rub against her skin. You let out loud moans when she reaches to your waist, carving her nails deeply into you as she moves you more violently against her. She feels herself getting wet, too, and she knows that the way you sound and the way you feel will be enough to soon make her white panties sticky with her cum.

As your bud deliciously kneads while you move your hips, you suck the white freckled skin of her neck, causing the girl to close her eyes and bite her lips. You push her head back by her braid and you lick from the bottom of her Adam’s apple all the way up to her mouth; pressing your teeth there again, making Abby hiss and moan.

“I-I want–” You try to speak but your moans interrupt you when Abby takes one of your boobs into her mouth, sucking on it and licking around your sensitive nipple. She lets go of it for a second just to talk back to you.

“What does my princess want, hm?” She goes back to massaging your tit with her muscle, hands never faltering on your hips.

“I want, I want you to-to eat me out,” You blurb out fast, not waiting to wait any longer to feel her tongue circling around your clit. Her breath hitches at the request, saliva pooling in her mouth at the opportunity to taste you. Abby grabs you with ease and lays you down on the bench, ready to have a feast. She wraps her arms around your legs, placing each of them beside her head, making your back lift a little from the wood. You shiver as her hot breath hits against your exposed pussy. “Please, ju-just fuck me…”

Abby looks at you, a needy expression on your face as you stare down at her and she spits onto your throbbing bud; the liquid making its way down to your hole resulting in you throwing your head back and closing your eyes. Your legs tremble and she holds you still, finally diving in. She runs her tongue up your slick collecting the wetness before bringing it to your clit. Abby sucks on it while she circles her tongue with speed and precision; her body taking in the way you taste as your pleasure filled moans enter her ears, making her head fuzzy as she fucks you.

“Fuc-fuck Abs, so-so good…” You praise and it only fuels her more, taking two fingers to your pussy, she caresses your entry before shoving them in. You moan and whine, pressing her head impossibly closer to your pussy; her tongue working on your clit nonstop and her fingers pumping in-and-out of you at full speed. “M’ gonna cum so-soon,” You announce as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your limit, and unbeknown to you, Abby was getting closer, too. The thought of you creaming all over her mouth excited her, making her tongue swirl more frenetic over your clit as her fingers finally reached the soft spot deep inside you — The tips of her fingers pressing onto it made you finally brake, cumming over her face. As she felt your juices run down her chin, her orgasm hit her, too, and she slowly removed her fingers out of you; pressing one last kiss on top of your, now sensitive, bud.

“Fuck, princess,” Abby kisses your thighs as she lets your legs fall back down. “You taste so fucking good.” She kisses her way to your stomach, soon reaching your lips. “You were so good for me, baby.” You tiredly smile at her and she pecks your cheek before sitting back up and grabbing your towel from the bench. She softly presses the tower onto your cunt, cleaning you up as you quietly observe her.

“Are you gonna make me stay after school next week?” A shameless look appears on your face and Abby laughs.

“Oh, I just might.”

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#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby x y/n #abby anderson smut #abby tlou smut #T.A!abby #bad liar abby anderson #©machetegirl109

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