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#the one clear glance i stole just to see what the fuck she was typing and crying so aggressively about was the header for a whole section
slippery-minghus · 3 months
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secretly wishing and hoping that during her one on one with the manager tomorrow, Toxic Coworker(TM) realizes maybe this is not the job for her.
that, or she has a freakout about it and calls out for the next several days, leading to her getting let go due to too many absences
#she should go back to making her income off of all of her ~internet fans~ since she's so holier than thou and famous and everything#not like she even needs this job with how much her partner makes#i'm just so over how disrespectful she is#always assumes the worst intent from everyone and then is rude to you for it#i was trying my hardest to ignore her today so i wasn't really keeping track#but i think she was on her phone for a good 75% of our omshift overlap#and a significant portion of when she wasn't on her phone was spent literally cry-typing her massive list of grievances to bring to her 1:1#the one clear glance i stole just to see what the fuck she was typing and crying so aggressively about was the header for a whole section#about Behavior in the office...................#i'm really struggling with being sympathetic towards her when i know everyone else is acting with the best intentions#when anyone (but her) gets uppity about something it's bc patient care was impacted. which is a GOOD REASON.#i learned that early on and really respect how intensely my team cares about doing their job as best they can#meanwhile this girl gets mad when you even remotely consider that maybe this is the kind of job where it's good to do more than the bare#minimum? this is a real job with real impacting tasks that need to be done. the work needs to happen!#i'm not saying you have to break your limits or work a minute more than 40hrs/week. but you can't just show up and dick around for 8hrs#this isn't fucking mcdonalds#and sometimes! we have to do tasks! that we don't really enjoy! do i like sending faxes? no! it's tedious as hell! but do i do it anyway?#yes! because if i don't someone's literally not going to get their medication!!!#i'm anticapitalist and antiwork as hell but that doesn't mean no jobs should exist. it doesn't mean people in the medical field should stop#caring about their patients and doing the most they sustainably can for those patients#if you want a job where you don't have to care go somewhere else#it's unfair to literally everyone—yourself included—but most importantly to the patients who have trusted you with their care#personal#i don't want to leave this job yet but i'm honestly going fucking insane
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eoieopda · 11 months
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the one with mingyu and the twin bed
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summary: you brought your boyfriend to your parents’ house for christmas dinner. he can’t get a grip because you can’t keep yours to yourself. pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader type: drabble (smut) | rating: 18+ | wc: 3.5k au: est. relationship, home for the holidays cw: teasing, teasing, teasing; unprotected sex; mingyu is a pouty lil simp; multiple orgasms; reader rides it like she stole it and has to keep him quiet in the process :’) a/n: nobody asked, i just have mingyu brain rot 🥲 🚨 MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS WHO INTERACT WITH MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED. MY WORK IS NOT FOR YOU.
You might kill him. And really, if that’s not your goal, it’s still the most likely result. This road you’ve chosen starts with a squeeze of his knee under the table, travels up his thigh and — well, Mingyu can imagine how it ends, but not when or where. That’s the problem.
Well, that’s the primary problem. 
The worst part about it all is that you look so unbothered by it all. You’re laughing through conversation with your parents, who sit on the opposite side of the table, like Mingyu isn’t on the brink of passing the fuck out beside you. Like his slacks aren’t squeezing the life out of him in the same torturous way your hand is. 
You’re moving so slowly that the table cloth doesn’t even flutter with your secret ministrations.
He knew you were a devil, but what fresh hell is this?
“— feeling okay?”
Mingyu has to blink himself back into reality to realize he’d been spoken to. Your father, who Mingyu had thankfully met before tonight — and made a positive, sustainable first impression on — looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow the same way yours do when you’re worried.
“Sorry,” Mingyu starts by clearing his throat. He flashes a smile that makes your mother blush, not unlike the way you usually do. “I was daydreaming about that galbi jjim from earlier. Don’t know if I’ll ever eat better.”
That’s a lie, he thinks immediately. Dessert is one seat over, fingertips whispering over his inseam, and Mingyu’s mouth is already watering at the thought. But he’s stuck. You’re untouchable as long as the pair of you are at this table, and you’re untouchable upstairs for more reasons than one. 
Your mother is flustered — so is Mingyu, but for an entirely different reason — and she glances up at your father. His smile is a flat line, but it reads like approval. She elbows him gently.
“See, yeobo?” She quips, “I told you he was charming.” 
Then, she turns to look at you with a firm nod. “You picked well.”
“To be clear, Mingyu picked me,” You laugh, waving your free hand dismissively.  “With the amount of girls queuing up for his attention, he had options — a lot of them. I just lucked out.”
At this, he short-circuits, so much so that he nearly sprays the wine he’s sipping all over the table and your unsuspecting parents. 
“Oh, no, no. Not even close,” He sputters, earning a surprised giggle from your mother. Faked offense pulls the corners of his mouth down, puckers his lips into an pout around his words. “I had to beg for your phone number, if I recall —”
“Did you really?” Your mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, as if she’s watching one of the daytime dramas she’s always talking about.
Your father looks smug as he reaches his arm out over the table, fingers closed over his palm. The hand you aren’t using to commit unspeakable crimes lifts to meet his fist over the acorn jelly, knuckles tapping lightly. 
Your father smirks, “That’s my girl.”
You look at Mingyu fully now, not from the corner of your eye the way you had been. It’s downright spooky how your face can look that innocent at a time like this. That is, until you bite down on your plush lower lip.
Fuck.
Is he about to faint? He really might faint.
“Okay, fine. You’re right,” You demur with a shrug.
That sweet smile of yours is unbelievably misleading, but goddamn, does it look good on you.
“I didn’t make it very easy for you, did I?” 
He tries not to clench his jaw when you flatten your palm and squeeze the highest, innermost part of his thigh. He fails miserably. After all, you’re running out of real estate; and Mingyu’s running out of resolve. 
This is it for me, he thinks. Remember me as I was: a fucking simp.
Thankfully, both of your parents stand up to carry dishes off to be washed. They cross the threshold into the kitchen and miss the way Mingyu’s head slumps back against his chair. So desperate and defeated, he ignores the way his skull aches after colliding with the oak backrest.
He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death.
When their footfalls are no longer audible, Mingyu assumes they’re out of sight. You shift, but he doesn’t crack his eyes open until he feels the heat of your breath on the shell of his ear. His gaze locks on the ceiling when you whisper, “Can you blame me? It’s so cute when you beg.”
If his dick strains any harder against his pants, the zipper may break.
“You’re trying to kill me,” Mingyu gulps. He shakes his head, voice wavering. “Baby, I’m gonna drop dead in your childhood home — on Christmas, no less — and it’s gonna be all your fault.”
The tip of your nose nudges the side of his face as you place a kiss on his earlobe. The white knuckle grip he holds on the edge of the table is the only thing keeping him together, and you know it. Still, the feather-light touch of your fingertips finds what it’s after. They trace the outline of his bulge through his slacks, and before he can stop himself, Mingyu audibly sighs.
He’d tell you to stop if he could jumpstart his brain. That’s a lie, he corrects himself. He doesn’t want you to stop; he just wants you. Wants you so badly that it hurts.
“Attempted murder,” Mingyu mumbles helplessly.
God, he’s pathetic.
Head slumped to the side, he finally allows himself to look at you. Immediately, he has to wonder: is there anyone who wouldn’t beg for you? He’d be on his knees in a heartbeat if your parents weren’t loading a dishwasher, several meters away. He’d clear the table himself, too,  if sweeping his arm overtop and sending silverware to the ground counted for anything.
Unbothered by the internal crisis you’ve started in him, you stroke him slowly, like you have all the time in the world to end him; and not a care at all that you might get caught in the process. The kiss you leave on his jaw is so soft — and so laughably chaste, all things considered — that he’s not sure it even happened. To keep from pleading out loud, he grinds his teeth even more harshly together.
Are you there, God? It’s me, Mingyu.
His prayers are answered immediately, which makes him a little bit suspicious — and a lot more feral.
You hum, amusement downright musical, and he shivers. “I’m going to help them finish down here. Wait for me upstairs?”
When Mingyu shoots up to his feet, the force of his thighs against the underside of the table threatens to flip it. The remaining wine glasses wobble in place, but thankfully, you’d all killed the bottle some time ago; no drop is left to be spilled. He still cringes at the close call, though. With a grimace, he mutters rapid-fire apologies — whether to you, the glassware, or the God of Dirty Thoughts, he’s not sure. 
You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from laughing, which Mingyu appreciates. His clumsiness would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so incomprehensibly horny. All that blood flow has been redirected away from his brain, though, and his dirty mind can’t focus on how not cool he’s being about all of this. 
Just you, that little smirk on your lips, and the million ways he wants your mouth on him.
Once he steadies himself, it only takes a second for Mingyu to race towards the stairs. Any and all chill he might’ve had is left behind him in a cloud of dust.
It’s downright cartoonish, the way he scrambles up the steps — stumbling, knees colliding with the hardwood as he goes — but it’s effective. He reaches the landing in record time, then all but kicks open the door to your childhood bedroom. As soon as the doorknob collides with the wall behind it, Mingyu freezes in place.
That wall, he realizes, is the only barrier between your room and your parents’. Worse, your old bed is set longways against that very wall. And because the hits just keep on coming, it’s a twin bed. 
With a frilly purple duvet and shockingly minimal surface area, no less.
Horrified, Mingyu steps forward and places his hand flat against the small mattress. It doesn’t take much pressure to make the bed springs squeak — when has anything ever gone his way? — and that revelation nearly has him screaming obscenities at the ceiling.
Fuck. 
Fuck. 
How is he supposed to fuck you under these conditions?
Frantic, he closes the door behind him, shuffles forward, and drops to his knees next to the bed. At his height, the frame barely reaches his midriff. Clearly, his life is a fucking joke.
Elbows now resting on the mattress, Mingyu clasps his hands together and leans forward to rest his forehead against his knuckles.
He’s never tried this before — not earnestly, anyway — and he doesn’t know where to start. Whatever the reason, he’s sure he can’t pray to any listening deity to let him get his dick wet. Anyone who hears his cry would smite him on the spot, he thinks, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Before he can settle on a prayer, footsteps sound off on the stairs just outside the door. The words are muffled; but there are multiple voices, which tells him that one or both of your parents have joined you on your journey upstairs. Suddenly, Mingyu is overcome with guilt. 
He’s in their home, having eaten their food — and now he’s a full-blown heretic, wanting nothing more than to devour their daughter like a man starved. But he can’t because, if he does, they’ll hear every dirty detail and —
Mingyu is many things, but he is not quiet.
You are, however, and he can barely make it out when you say, “Thank you, again, for dinner. And for letting us stay overnight.”
“Oh, don’t you dare!” Your mother peeps. Mingyu freezes, knowing in the rational part of his brain she can’t see him, but unable to stop himself. “It’s our pleasure! Really, it’s a long drive back for you two —”
Your father interjects, “— and Mingyu must be exhausted if he’s already in bed.”
For personal reasons, he thinks as he squeezes his eyes shut, I will be passing away.
There’s a moment of silence in which you must be hugging your parents goodnight, then there’s the quiet creak of the door opening. Footsteps, then more silence — you pausing for a moment, likely taking in the sight of him, then the door shutting softly behind you.
He can’t hear your approach over the hammering pulse in his ears, but he can feel the warmth of your body when you stand closely behind him. On instinct, he leans back onto his heels. A reflex of your own, you card your fingers through his hair and turn him into putty.
As embarrassing as it is to reckon with the fact, Mingyu acknowledges that the massage of your fingers might make him cum in his trousers.
“Were you praying?” You whisper, giggle evident despite the hushed tone. Your fingernails rake gently over his scalp; he swallows hard.
Mingyu is past the point of attempting nonchalance, so he confesses immediately. “Need divine intervention at a time like this. A twin bed? Parents? I’m doomed.”
“Maybe.” You lean down over his shoulder to purr into his ear. “Doomed or not, you look so perfect on your knees.”
That comment reverberates down his spine, ricochets off every vertebrae as it goes. He has to bite down on his fist to keep from groaning. It sure as shit doesn’t stop his eyes from rolling back in his head.
You drop your hand from his hair to trail your fingers down the length of his neck, then across the top of his shoulder. As you do, you step out from behind him and into his line of sight. You, illuminated only by a small, butterfly-shaped lamp, confirm his suspicions:
Ariana Grande was right all along. God is a woman.
You maintain eye contact as you reach behind your back and begin unzipping your dress. The burgundy fabric pools at your bare feet, having slipped right over the silkiness of your thighs without issue. If he wasn’t already in his knees, Mingyu would’ve dropped the same way.
“How confident are you that you can be quiet?” You ask softly. “Stakes are high, and you’re normally so vocal.”
Right out of the gate, he trips.
Mingyu responds with bravado and without whispering, “I can do it.”
Then, he slaps his hand over his big fucking mouth.
Biting back a smile, you reach out for the collar of his shirt. The buttons are undone with care, like any and every decibel is too much of a risk. You hum as you continue your work, “We can make it a challenge, then. If you can stay quiet, I’ll let you cum.” 
He lets you slide his shirt off his frame as soon as you’re finished with it. It lands where your dress did, wrinkling white on top of red.
“If you can’t  —” You pause and gesture down to his belt buckle, which he’s already gripping tightly to. It’s undone before you can blink, which causes the side of your mouth to twitch upwards. “— I’ll stop.”
Mingyu nods, more determined than he’s ever been, and pushes himself to his feet. Less nimbly than you, he fumbles desperately with the button and zipper at the top of his trousers. Eventually, he frees himself and they drop, too. They land with a muffled sound before being kicked blindly aside.
Your gaze drops to his briefs, pupils dilating when you see the mess you’ve made of him. The dark grey fabric is close to black at the tip of his dick, arousal seeping into the fibers and tattling on him. That is, if the blatantly thick imprint of his length hadn’t sold him out already.
His knees threaten to buckle all over again when he sees a flash of pink swipe over your lips, wetting them as your eyes grow even darker.
No, he really might cum on the spot.
You step over your discarded clothes. Closing the distance, you flatten your palms against his bare chest, push up on your toes, and kiss him properly for the first time in hours. His only instinct is to whine like a fucking baby when his lips part and you lick into his mouth, but he refuses to break this close to the starting whistle.
No, Mingyu will keep his shit together. He has to keep his shit together — even as you suck his bottom lip into your mouth and release it swollen with a pop.
“What do you want, baby?”
He doesn’t know if it’s his chest or your hands that are burning up, but a wildfire spreads as you run your palms down from his pectorals to his abdomen. Every muscle in his body tenses as your touch lowers. His lungs seem to, too, because he struggles to keep his breaths even.
Your fingers hook under the waistband of his briefs, knuckles tickling against the sensitive skin underneath his hip bones. You continue your questioning, as if he trusts himself to answer.
“My mouth?”
Oh god.
He wants it all, always and every which way, but he knows he won’t last a goddamn second in your throat — and you know it, too, even before he furiously shakes his head. 
Eyes laser focused on you, he does his best to beg without words. The puppy-dog eyes win you over every time.
When you smile at him like that — petal soft, still so devilish — he audibly sighs. There’s no helping him, he knows it. It’s a reflex, a rubber mallet to the knee. Thankfully, you let that breathy concession slide; let his briefs slide, too, until they drop unwanted around his ankles.
Mingyu is so hard that it hurts.
He’s a throbbing, leaking mess when your hand finally — fucking finally — wraps around his cock. Experimentally, you give him a light squeeze while you work the length. Your gaze flicks upwards to gauge his reaction, wrist rolling when you reach the crown.
If he had to guess, Mingyu would bet that he’s turned purple with the effort it’s taking to keep his needy mouth shut. But your eyes twinkle up at him and you tell him that he’s beautiful; and suddenly, his chest and cheeks go a shy shade of pink.
“Lay down, pretty boy,” you whisper, nodding your head towards that shitty little bed.
As he stretches out onto his back — to the best of his ability, with his heels nearly dangling off the end — he swears on his life that his friends can never know how weak he gets when you call him that.
You place your hands on his chest to keep your balance, lifting one leg over his until you’re straddling him. Your right knee settles uncomfortably between his leg and the wall, but you don’t complain. Instead, you look him dead in the eye and pull your fatal, black thong to the side.
Even in this piss-poor lighting, Mingyu can see the way your darkened eyes glint. He’s spellbound — there’s no other word to describe it.
One hand takes hold of his cock and lines it up to your cunt. The other raises to your lips, index finger extended. You tease him without saying a word, and he hears it loud and clear.
Oh, he’s going to be so good for you.
That’s what he tells himself until your arousal makes contact with the tip of his cock. That’s what he repeats in his head, over and over, when you sink down and gush around him, slick dripping to coat the centimeters that don’t quite fit inside of you. What he says out loud, elongated and definitely above a whisper, is:
“Fuuuuck.”
You quickly lean over his chest to cover his mouth with your hand. Though your pulses are both racing, he’s less focused on his total, abject embarrassment than he is on the amusement that causes your mouth to curve.
Keeping your hand where it is — for the good of everyone, really — you nip at his earlobe. He waits for the inevitable consequence of his actions.
Goddamn it. How stupid does he have to be to forfeit a prize like you?
“You don’t listen very well, baby,” Your hushed tone drips like honey into his ear. Involuntarily, his hips jerk upwards, pushing further into your wet heat.
Any distance is too much.
“But you feel so fucking good —”
Again, he ruts against you when your teeth graze his earlobe. Under your palm, his whimpering is unintelligible, but that doesn’t stop him. You catch his groan in your hand before it can hit the air.
“— might have to bend the rules for you.”
It’s torture. 
Mingyu knows you’re moving this slowly to avoid upsetting the box springs below, but whether or not there’s method to the madness, it’s still unbearable.
You swirl your hips in a way that makes his vision go white at the edges, grind down into his lap with quiet precision. He can feel that soft, spongy spot hiding behind your front wall; and he can hear those delicate little sighs as you fuck yourself deliberately.
He can feel his mind go blank, too, moments before your cunt milks him for all he’s worth. You don’t stop once he spills himself inside of you — you won’t, he hopes.
“Oh, shit,” you whimper, almost inaudibly. “I’m so close.”
The hand not covering his mouth disappears between your legs. If the way your eyes roll back is any indication, you’ve found what you were looking for. 
The sight of you is too much for Mingyu to handle. Nipples peaking through the translucent fabric of your bralette, wrist moving in the opposite direction of your hips, eyelashes fluttering while you rub spirals into your clit. Perfect, top to bottom.
Mingyu cums again when you do, refractory period be damned.
And when you collapse down onto his chest, walls still fluttering around him, he encircles you with his arm so tightly that he can feel you trembling through the aftershocks. With your face now nuzzled into the crook of his neck, the tables turn.
“Fuck,” you mutter. The sound is mostly lost against his skin, but there’s enough volume to make you both start to snicker.
You kiss his neck, nudge him with the tip of your nose. Whispering, you ask, “Not bad for a twin bed, huh?”
Mingyu snorts. “Kinda feels like high school. You know, parents on the other side of the wall, cute little bedspread,” His voice trails off so he can press his lips against your temple. Voice low in your ear, he smirks, “Nutting within thirty seconds.”
Your muffled laughter shakes his shoulders, too. Then, you fall into a silence so easy he’s sure you’ve fallen asleep on top of him. To his surprise, you peep, “I didn’t think this through.”
He hums inquisitively in response. You crane your neck to meet his eyes. 
You inhale deeply, then sigh, “I have to waddle down the hallway of my childhood home to the bathroom — right past my parents’ door — and pretend like we didn’t just do what we did.”
Mingyu flashes you a wolfish grin that catches you off guard. Your eyebrows raise in anticipation.
“Need some divine intervention, sounds like. Maybe if you pray about it —” 
The only thing louder than the playful smack you land on his bicep is your laugh, straight from the bottom of your chest.
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sh1-n0bu · 10 months
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hey hey!! new anon here,,
not sure how to write this but I'll try
could we get a scara x amab reader, with praise, overstimulation, and if you're comfortable body worship? (for scara ofc) i wanna make him cry 🛐
also !! can i be 🍷 anon?? <3
♡︎ 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ♡︎
characters: sub!scaramouche x dom!AMAB!reader
warnings: praise, overstimulation, body worship, dacryphillia, overall very soft and fluffy
notes: of course you can be 🍷anon! slowly but surely clearing out my inbox and thinking on holding a 3k followers event. if you guys have any ideas, lemme know!
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wanderer — formerly known as scaramouche, balladeer and the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers — has always been a shut in type of person. always preferring his own space, solitude and of course, a bitter tea to go along with everything. so when you, his assistant since day one, had suddenly proposed your affections for the angry gremlin he rejected at first.
but that never deterred you. you would try over and over again. asking him out on dates, offering him some help, cuddles if he was being restless and stressed, holding his hand while he undergoes the painful weekly tortures of il dottore — you did it all for him.
and one day, scaramouche did indeed cave in and decided to accept your nth suggestion for a date. it wasn’t like he had liked you or anything, he just wanted to make you shut up quickly. he’s lying, he loved you way longer than you did him.
since then, going out on “dates” had become a usual thing between you two. you two would meet up in certain places, hang out for some time, talk for a bit, hold hands if scaramouche is feeling gutsy enough and say your goodbyes.
it had continued on for so long until it suddenly came to a stop when scaramouche had to go to sumeru with il dottore to take buer’s gnosis. of course the plan worked and the second harbinger came back with the gnosis but no scaramouche.
for some time after that, you seriously thought you were tripping absolute bonkers. everyone kept saying the sixth seat of the harbingers had been vacant and the name scaramouche or balladeer doesn’t ring a bell. you even held an audience with her majesty, the tsaritsa as well and yet she said she doesn’t remember!
that was until you decided to desert the fatui and go to sumeru yourself to find out just what the fuck was going on. it took incredibly long time — sumeru’s rainforest and desert aren’t the most hospitable places for someone so used to the cold like you — but after a whole half a year of searching, you managed to see him again.
him. the one who stole your heart. the one who caused you to desert the fatui despite knowing the punishment would be death. the one that cradled your heart gently in his hand since you’ve been assigned to be his assistant.
and by the archons was it worth the whole thing. to be chased down by the people who were once your comrades. to suffer heatstrokes in the hot desert of sumeru. to continuously get pelted by the rain and thunder in the rainforests of sumeru. by the archons was it all worth it when the moment you two locked eyes. it was as if your first meeting all over again.
by the archons was it worth it when he recognized you, dropping the scrolls in his arms as he runs up to you. it was worth it when he came to a stop in front of you — hesitating. waiting. wondering. before finally muttering “fuck it” and getting on his tip toes to plant a kiss on your lips. it was worth it all — even as you gently broke him down and rebuilt him again a whole new in your arms in the comfort of your now shared home.
scaramouche has always been a shut in type of person. always preferring his own space, solitude and of course, a bitter tea to go along with everything.
but wanderer was a bit different. he preferred to be alone, alone with you. a bitter tea and your voice going “yuck!” whenever he made you take a sip, lying and promising he put sugar in it this time. a shy stolen glance at each other and a peck or two followed by the silence of each other’s presence. “lonely together” you once called your relationship. he couldn’t agree more.
even as his first time is taken by you — the doll couldn’t be happier.
even as he whimpers and whines whenever you praise him, planting kisses on his skin as he blushed a beet red. weakly thrusting his hips back to meet yours under the dim lights of the lit candles. desperately reaching back, tangling your hair in his hand to tug you down for a sloppy kiss to try and hide his moans when you called him your “good boy”, “pretty doll” and your “one and only”.
a weak sob and sniffles resounding in your shared home as wanderer comes on your cock for the nth time. how many times had he cum by now? he’s too hazy and lust ridden to even keep up count.
tears kept falling down his face as he unconsciously grind back into your cock, wanting more. a cacophony of keens and moans and shrill sound resembling a squeal coming out of him as he feels your tip hit his prostate again. archons, he wanted to feel that again and again. feel himself get broken down by your hands, by your lips, by the soft praises coming out of your mouth, by your dick just fucking into him so good to the point his mind becomes a mush.
when you gently put him back together again — wiping away the sweat and cum staining his skin, when you cradle him gently as you two share a quick bath together, when you wrap your arms around him and hug him close to yourself — the pupet couldn’t help but smile.
a genuine, unadulterated smile of happiness spreading on his face as he hears your words of affirmation. in soft moments like this, the puppet couldn’t help but whisper out weakly in a hoarse voice.
“you, [name], my heart…” before slipping off into a dreamless state.
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squirrelno2 · 1 year
Text
Jesse Lives AU, pt 6
Back at it with whatever this is!
Jesse and Jale make it to the ship and contemplate next steps.
First - Previous - Next
The captain didn't look happy to see that half of Jale's haul was a person, but at least the storm clouds cleared when he presented the navigational unit and the fuel.
"There's another piece I pulled from the engine room, if your medic takes a look at my stray," Jale said.
"Your stray?" Jesse snapped. He swayed getting off the speeder. Jale let him stumble and turned back to the captain.
"So?" he asked.
"Last time you brought one of your pretty boys on board he stole half our goods."
Jale sputtered.
"I didn't know -"
"That's the problem." The captain frowned as Jesse approached. "Is that a clone?"
"I am," Jesse said tightly. He glared at Jale. "I'm not fucking you."
"Please, my taste in men isn't that bad," Jale lied through his teeth. Jesse was exactly his type, unfortunately, but Jale was trying to ignore that.
"I won't be any trouble," Jesse told the captain. "Not unless you make trouble for me."
The captain looked him up and down warily, then glanced at Jale. Jale tried to look completely innocent of previous sexual escapades.
"Fine," he said. "We'll take the clone to Corellia and drop him off when we leave you behind."
"It's Jesse," Jesse said tightly. The captain didn't answer.
"So all the shit you were saying about how you didn't trust this crew, that's because you're an idiot who sleeps with thieves?" Jesse asked as they boarded the ship.
"No, they hated me before that," Jale said. "I'm not an idiot!"
Jesse scoffed.
"Haven't seen any evidence yet."
"You're going to be stuck with me for a while, Jesse," Jale said. "Maybe consider holding back on the judgment until you know a little bit more about the real world."
"The real world?" Jesse snapped. He stopped walking. Jale, for some reason, stopped too. "You ever seen what war looks like? You ever lost your family to ambush, and betrayal, and bad luck? That wreck out there is the last in a long line of real things, and you don't know a damn thing about any of it."
Jale swallowed. He wasn't about to give an inch to a man who'd spent the whole day insulting and belittling him, no matter what points he made.
"War isn't the only bad thing that ever happened," he said. "And it's not what life is like for most people."
"You think that makes it any less real?"
Jale was intensely aware of the fact that the captain had turned to look at them, and a few other crewmembers had surfaced to find out what was happening.
"You need to get your head checked," he said. Rage flashed across Jesse's face - he probably thought it was a dig at him - but Jale ignored him and turned to the ship's doctor.
"You want to take a look at a shipwreck survivor?" he said, like he was offering her a gift. She looked as though she couldn't decide whether to focus her attention on hating him or worrying over Jesse.
"Come here," she said to Jesse. "He picked you up off that ship out there?"
Jale ignored the murderous glare Jesse was still sending his way in favour of waving as the doctor steered Jesse away.
"She'll take good care of you," he said cheerfully, just before the doors closed behind them.
The doctor was surprisingly gentle and friendly, for someone who worked for a captain that so obviously didn't respect clones. Jesse was still on edge. He'd won the argument with Jale - the man would never have passed him off to the doctor if he hadn't - but he wanted to go back and make sure Jale knew just how wrong he was. He didn't know why. Jesse was usually better at letting things go, at least from natborns.
The doctor was at least quick about her checks and scans. She was no Kix, but Jesse knew a capable medic when he saw one. He tried to relax.
Finally she gave him a mostly clean bill of health.
"You're lucky, the worst you're hurt is your head," she said. "And you're healing up well from that, miraculously. I don't know what more I can do for you."
"So I'm fine?" Jesse said.
She frowned. "I can't do much for you, but there's definitely trauma. You may experience headaches, mood swings, loss of function - noticed anything?"
Jesse shrugged.
"Headaches," he said. "But we were engineered against that kind of thing."
Her face took on a pinched look which Jesse couldn't interpret.
"Doesn't really matter what your genetics look like when your head gets cracked like an egg," she said. "Look, just… if you notice anything, issues with motor control or speech or eyesight, let me know. You got off easy."
Easy. Jesse didn't think easy was landing on a near-empty moon. He didn't think easy was depending on a too-cocky stranger and the crew that hated him. He didn't think easy was outliving everyone you knew, and being left behind for dead by the one person you had left.
"Sure," he said.
"Look," the doctor said. "If you don't want to be stranded on Corellia at Jale's mercy, I'm sure I can talk to the captain. Maybe you could work for us -"
It was a smart idea. He wouldn't be stuck with Jale. He'd be able to travel where he needed to go, as soon as he figured out where that was.
But some part of him hated the idea of working for anybody that wasn't the Republic. Jale, at least, hadn't framed it like that - like Jesse would be betraying himself by assisting. Jesse may have hated picking over the Venator's bones, but it hadn't been a job.
It was stupid. It was impractical. He'd never be able to survive, thinking like that.
But he could put off the moment when he needed to change.
"It's fine," he said. "I'll make Corellia work."
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whaleofatjme1920 · 2 years
Note
🌹 Elsie! Elsie! I say your requests were open!
So write something extremely self indulgent with your Cicero, because you can and you deserve good things.
Also unclench your jaw.
But yessss-
Have fun :3
Why Do You Look Like That?
[Dr. Tjme x Agent Cicero]
[Warnings: Like, none?]
[AN: this is SO NICE OF YOU omfg thank you!! Something short and sweet, slice of life in the hallways of the Foundation. idk how many words I wrote it on tumblr lol. <3]
The two of them have known each other long enough that when they meet after he's been gods know where out in the field, there's really no such thing as a grand reunion. Instead, Cicero will look down at her strolling into the large lobby of Site 17's ground floor, Dr. Tjme will look back up at him, and someone will open their arms and hug it out. It's a quiet conversation that doesn't need any words to begin with.
From there, she'll walk him back to the site's MTF dorms. He has his own room, and she's usually in the lake, but they have every intention of spending the time he's there together when not working. Cicero tells her all about it - he knows she stole the clearance for it - and they laugh about the small things that only make sense to them.
Cicero is back again. He's just let her go, and he can already feel his heart seizing even though she's still within arm's distance. Tjme is right up against him, the two of them about to head out to the site's dorms together and decompress from the mission. She always helps him get all the gear off despite him being more than capable to do it himself.
"Did I miss anything while I was gone?" The tall, dark haired man asks, his gun raised upwards and resting on his shoulder as he walks alongside her.
Tjme shakes her head slightly before her ear fins perk up. "They threw a car into the lake." There's a slight twinkle in her eyes as she tells him it.
Cicero snorts and shakes his head slightly. "They what?" He's been scuba diving in the lake before, mostly to see what she's up to down there. He's seen lots of things. Full office spaces, research labs, even dwelling places for aquatic staff. The Foundation often likes to consider itself compliant to the wills of its nonhuman workers.
"Apparently it caught fire on one of the roads passing by," she began barely sparing her lover a glance, "run by some new hires, of course, and instead of using like, a fire extinguisher or something they drove it into the lake," she explained with a small laugh. "It was one of the nicer ones too. The hummer-"
He groaned. "They drove a hummer in there? The fuck were they doing with it to even catch fire?"
"No idea, but it ended up falling into one of our office spaces and we're half considering not moving it because it looks cool," she chuckled as the two continued to walk together. It was a peaceful late afternoon. The sun would be setting soon and the Foundation felt busier than ever. There was the buzz of other agents about to head out, cars and some golf carts moving around, planes across the site taking off and landing on the strip, other staff moving from their on site dorms and so on. The Foundation is always busy, even when it doesn't seem like it.
"Guess I'll have to come down there and see it," Cicero mused as he flashed a smile her way.
Tjme returned the smile. "So, what happened to you while you were out?" She's always loved hearing him talk about his missions. Cicero isn't a team leader, not yet, but she knows he and his team get on like a well oiled machine. She'd tell you that her real answer is that Cicero has a knack for storytelling. He's funny. He's never failed to make her laugh even when they were at each other's throats in denial about clear feelings that they had for each other.
He's neck deep in one of his vivid accounts of life as an agent from Epsilon 6. Cicero's voice is excited, but it's not the type of excitement just anyone hears, but rather the excitement of a man who feels he can hardly stay still when in the presence of someone he loves. He likes telling her about all the little things his teammates get up to because he knows she knows them well. Perhaps not to the level of him, but he's let her into that part of his life.
"And there was this witch-" Cicero's words fall suddenly when they step right outside the MTF dorms. He's looking at this smaller women with a quizzical expression, trying to gauge why she looks so love sick all of a sudden. "Why do you look like that?" He laughs softly, reaching his hand up to wave in front of her eyes and then gently tap at her nose. He pushes her glasses back up for good measure, making both of them giggle.
"Like what?" She inquires.
"Like you really like listening to me."
She snorts and pushes him towards the door. "Because I do."
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lowkeyerror · 2 years
Text
Little Brother's Best Friend
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 2625
Warnings: Violence, a dash of angst, very uncool Vision
Note: Wanda is older than Pietro in this one
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There were certain types of relationships that had the tagline of 'forbidden' in front of them. Some were more serious than others. The relationship you were chasing was one of them.
You wanted a chance with your best friend's older sister. She was a few years older than you and had a serious boyfriend, but that didn't stop you from flirting.
Needless to say, Pietro wasn't a fan of your flirting, so you made an effort to not do it around him. It sounded harder than it was. There were a countless number of times when you found yourself alone with Wanda in their house.
Whether it was a moment in the hall or a couple of minutes in the kitchen, you always found a way to get her alone.
She of course refused your advances, but you were certain that it was only because of her boyfriend. You knew that you had piqued Wanda's interest. She stole glances at you when she thought you weren't watching.
She always blushed when you flirted, but it was always followed by a stern look, telling you to stop. You knew that there was a part of her that wanted you just as much as you wanted her.
You stood outside their house waiting for Wanda to let you in. Pietro had told you he would be home soon, so you decided to come over a little early.
" Are you going to let me in?"
Her arms crossed over her chest," My brother's not here"
" I know, but he said he would be here in like 20 minutes, so I just thought I'd come now and wait for him."
Wanda reluctantly let you into the house. She was dressed in a baggy pair of sweatpants and a small crop top. Your eyes were drawn to the shape of her body.
" You break up with your boyfriend yet?"
There was a groan that came from her lips," We aren't going to break up. So stop asking"
You hold your hands up in defense," I'm only asking because once he fucks up, and trust me they always do, I'm already here to take his place"
She let out a scoff," What makes you think you would even have a chance?"
" Well, you're already attracted to me for one. Two, I'm a sweetheart, and you love that about me. And three, I could make you cum harder with my tongue than he can with his dick."
She was ready with a counter," I'm not attracted to you, I don't love anything about you, and you're disgusting"
It was your turn to scoff," Wanda, I didn't know you were a liar"
" I'm not lyi-"
The abrupt ending to her sentence was caused by you removing your shirt. Wanda stared at your body with dark eyes.
" What were you saying?"
She struggles to regain her composure, but she does," Put your shirt back on and go wait upstairs"
You catch her eyes and with an innocent smile reply," Yes mommy"
You physically see her breath hitch. You throw on the shirt and walk up the stairs like you were told, leaving Wanda in her aroused state.
Pietro was taking longer than you expected to show up. When you finally heard the front door open, you assumed it was him, but it wasn't. From the stairs above, you could clearly see that it was Wanda's boyfriend.
They did not look like they were having a pleasant conversation. You couldn't hear it word for word, but there were a lot of apologetic words coming from his end. It didn't seem to be having the desired effect on Wanda. She was completely over whatever it was. That made him upset, and he began to raise his voice. So she matched his energy, and though you couldn't hear it moments ago, the conversation was crystal clear now.
" You've literally been cheating on my for the past month and a half, and I'm supposed to be okay with it"
" Can't we just move on from this already, Wanda. I love you and only you"
You hear her scoff," Then why are you talking to and fucking other girls, Vis?"
He smacks his lips together," You never want to have sex, what am I supposed to do? And when you do want it, you never shave"
" That's because you're bad at sex, and don't you dare comment on my body."
" You're being a real bitch right now," when he says this, you decide to go down the stairs.
"Are you good down here, Wanda?"
Vis answers for her," We're fine."
You ignore him and wait for any indication from Wanda that she's alright or not.
Vis gets in your face a bit," I said we're fine."
" I wasn't asking you"
You glare up at the man, not intimidated at all by the height difference.
" Y/n, it's fine. He was just leaving" Wanda responds, but you don't take your eyes away from the man.
" Well, you heard her. It's time for you to leave"
He pauses," I'm sorry, but what gives you the right to kick me out of my girlfriend's house? Who even are you? Haven't you heard of not interrupting when the adults are talking?"
" Ex-girlfriend," Wanda pipes up. This caused the man to make a grab for her, but you blocked him.
" Wanda, you can't be serious"
" She sounds pretty serious to me," you cut him off and begin to usher him out of the door.
He pushes you off of him and storms towards Wanda. He grabs her wrist slightly aggressively, and you jump into action. You pull him back by one arm, and force it high up behind his back.
" You don't ever put your hands on a woman like that. She broke up with you, and by the looks of it you should be lucky she even gave you a chance in the first place."
You push him out the front door and slam it in his face. He starts banging against the door, but you ignore it. Instead, you check on Wanda, gently lifting her wrist so it could get a better look at it.
" It's fine Y/n"
" It's not, you're bruising"
" I'll live"
There's a long pause after that. You speak first," I'm sorry about you and your boyfriend"
" Are you really, or are you just saying that because he fucked up, and you're right here all ready to take his place?"
You shake your head," No, I'm really sorry. I know how it feels to get cheated on by someone you care about. I wouldn't wish it on anyone"
" I never knew you were seeing anyone"
" I was, but I haven't been on a date in a couple of months," you replied.
" Why not?"
You shrug," Don't need to go on any more dates because I know what I want and none of these girls will meet my expectations"
" What is it that you want?"
You look her straight in the eyes," I want to be with you."
She rolls her eyes," Y/n, I was being serious"
" Wanda, I don't think you understand how much I'm attracted to you. Not just your body but everything about you. When you give me a chance, I'm not going to fuck up"
Your phone going off interrupts the conversation. It's a message from Pietro saying he's got a couple of things to do before he'll be home, so he probably won't be near until after dark.
" Y/n, you're my little brother's best friend"
You gently take her hand in yours," Is that the only thing stopping you?"
Wanda looks away from you and speaks to herself," I just broke up with Vis"
She drops your hand and takes a step back from you," I can't do this right now"
She storms up the stairs, and you let her go. You text Pietro, telling him you can't wait up for him, and leave the house.
There's a feeling in the pit of your stomach screaming at you for leaving Wanda alone, but you remind yourself that she doesn't want your comfort. She needs space and time to herself. You could picture her crying alone in her room, and it tugged on your heart strings.
You were already in the car, driving in the opposite direction of the house. Going back wasn't a good idea, and you knew that. So why did you turn the car around and drive back to the house?
When you parked the car, you noticed the front door was open. There were alarms going off in your head. Without any hesitation, you got out of the car and ran inside the house.
You heard a commotion upstairs, and you followed the sound. Wanda's door was wide open. Her ex stood in the middle of her room as she was curled up in the corner. Her dresser contents were sprawled across the floor, and the mirror to her vanity had been shattered.
The man had his back facing you, and you took advantage of that. You tackled him down on Wanda's carpeted floor. He yelped in surprise, and you took the opportunity to flip him, so he was laying on his back. You straddled his chest and began to throw stiff punches to his face.
You thought you had the upper hand until he ended up on top of you. He began to throw punches at your face, which you did your best to block. He connected a few times, and you could taste the blood pooling inside of your mouth. His hands wrapped around your throat, and you began to panic.
You clawed at his hands to no avail before propping your knee up in a sharp movement. The man rolled off of you, hands immediately reaching for his privates.
" Get out or I'll call the police"
Wanda's voice was shaky as she yelled at her ex.
He chuckled then hissed in pain," You're bluffing"
The numbers were already dialed on her phone, and she had full intent to press the call button. Vis tried to lunge at her, but you grabbed on to his foot stopping him from reaching her.
You dragged him out of the room and into the hall before he escaped your hold. The two of them faced each other and for a moment everything was still.
He charged at you, and you let him. You held your ground until the last moment, when you threw yourself to the floor. It was too late for the man to catch himself as he tumbled down the stairs.
Your breathing was erratic as you got a glimpse of him laying at the bottom of the stairs. It felt like your heart was going to explode. The thought of him being dead filled your body with fear.
Wanda had rushed out of the room when she heard the fighting stop. She hadn't called the police, but with a glance to the bottom of the steps she thought she would actually have too.
It was silent. No one made a sound. The both of you stared at the man's body for a long moment until you finally heard a groan escape his lips.
There was relief that flooded through your body as the man began to stir.
" Vis just leave. Please, if you can't see that this is toxic, then you're not the same person as when we started dating. We can't do this anymore"
It took a lot of effort for him to get to his feet. It also took a lot of effort for you to get to yours. You stood at the top of the stairs, blocking his path. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking at Wanda.
The rage had left his eyes, and it seemed as though reality kicked in. He took a singular glance at you and bowed his head," I'm- I'm sorry"
He then turned around slowly and walked out of the front door. He shut it behind him and when he did you fell to one knee.
Wanda was by your side in an instant. She had tears streaming down her face as she checked you for injuries.
" Did he hurt you?"
" Shut up, you're bleeding," She helps you stand up and carries your weight as she guides you to her bed.
Wanda grabs a plethora of wound cleaning supplies; cotton balls, alcohol, peroxide, and neosporin.
She begins delicately dabbing the cotton balls around your face, removing the blood residue.
" Wanda"
She ignores you.
" Wanda"
She ignores you again.
" Wan- ouch"
You hiss as a cotton ball drenched in alcohol touches your face. There's a small victory smile on her face as you stop talking until she's done.
When she finishes cleaning up your face, her eyes dart to your neck. There were bruises from when he choked you. Her hands were delicate as they traced the bruises.
" I'm so sorry, Y/n."
You were not having any of that," Hey, this wasn't your fault. You didn't cause this."
" Why'd you come back?"
You shrug," I had a gut feeling"
Her head buried itself in your shoulder and her arms wrapped around you," Thank you"
Your hands rubbed her back soothingly," I wasn't going to let him hurt you."
You pulled back from the hug just enough to see her face," He didn't hurt you, right?"
Wanda rolls her eyes," No, Y/n he didn't hurt me, but he tried to kill you. You were bleeding and bruised, you could've been seriously injured. Why would you be so concerned about me?"
" Because I left you alone in this house. After I saw how he acted earlier, I shouldn't have left you alone," you avoided her eyes.
" How could you have known he'd be back?"
You were silent.
" You couldn't have Y/n, this isn't your fault. It isn't mine. It's his fault, all of this is his fault."
Wanda's eyes have tears in them when they meet yours. You wipe her tears away with your thumb. She closes her eyes and leans into your touch.
" I'm going to stay until your brother gets back"
" You don't have to." It's a whisper from her lips.
" I know, but if it's alright with you, I'm still going to stay."
You get up from your spot on her bed and begin surveying her room.
" Where are you going?"
" Nowhere, I'm about to start cleaning your room"
" Leave it," she waits until you're facing her to continue," Hold me"
You walk over to the bed and lay down next to Wanda. Her back is to your front as you wrap an arm around her, pulling her further into you.
" Is this okay?"
She turns in your arms, so that you're face to face," I like this better"
You give a small nod," Okay"
Even after such an eventful day, being this close to Wanda still made your heart race faster than you thought possible. You're in her bed, holding her, because she asked you to be. It's not something you ever thought would happen.
" Y/n."
You hummed in response.
" I don't care that you're my little brother's best friend"
You furrowed your brow," What do you me-"
Wanda's lips met yours. Her lips were delicate against yours. The light pressure was almost teasing you. You let Wanda lead, not wanting to screw this up at all. She broke the kiss but didn't move away from you. Her breath was coating your lips as your mind tried to process what just happened.
" It means I'm going to give you a chance," she pecked your lips one more time.
You smiled at her with determination in your eyes," I'm not going to fuck it up"
639 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 3 years
Text
Burn The Witch 8 - Rookie Mistake [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.
Summary: Every agent makes mistakes.
Series Masterlist
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You had no idea what you’d done for karma to hunt you down like this, but it was very clear that at some part in your life, you had messed up.
Maybe it was because you never bought recyclable giftwraps for Christmas even if everyone told you to.
Maybe it was because you still used too much sugar in your coffee.
Maybe it was because of all the targets you had killed.
A mystery, that one.
You groaned, pressing your forehead on the window of the car as you massaged your temples.
“Do I have a tracker on me or something?” you whined, “Is that it? What are the chances I run into my fake boyfriend twice while on a mission? It’s a huge city, it’s not supposed to be possible!”
“I don’t know about you but I’m shaking,” Keith reached out to wave his hand in front of your eyes while Chloe checked you both in the rear mirror, “I’m— my hands are all sweaty look—“
“Don’t touch me with your sweaty hands!” you batted his hands away when he tried to touch your face, “How did this happen? How is this possible? Chloe? Chloe answer me, how is this fucking possible?”
“Okay, let’s all take a breath and focus on the bright side of the situation,” she managed to say, keeping her eyes on the road, “Your cover wasn’t blown, he still has no idea you’re…well, you. And everyone is alive, yay!”
“I was on the same rooftop as the world’s most dangerous assassin,” Keith let out a breath, “He was right there when I got there, he was just…. That guy could kill us all!”
“Shrike, just give the order and we will—“
“Everyone stay where you are,” you touched your earpiece, “It’s under control.”
“Let me guess,” Bucky said as he took a step towards you, “Another member of HYDRA and you got here before me.”
“Are you following me or something?” you asked and he scoffed.
“Maybe you’re not the only person going after HYDRA.”
“Maybe I should be,” you said, “Don’t get me wrong, I kind of dig the whole vigilante vibe but my superiors have more…planned strategies for things like these.”
“And who do you work for, exactly?”
You let out a small laugh, “Every girl has her secrets,” you stated, “Why are you here?”
“Why are you?”
“Because I’m getting paid for it,” you said, “You’re not. Surely a handsome guy like you could fill his nighttime with different activities rather than doing….this.”
Even in the dark, you could tell that he shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“Aw, not a huge fan of flirting?”
“Not with you.”
You couldn’t help but scoff a laugh at the irony, “Why, you got a girl at home?”
The door slammed open and one of the agents –Keith, you assumed— stepped out, his rifle pointed at Bucky while he heaved a sigh, shaking his head slightly.
“Your friend has a scarf wrapped over his face to keep his identity hidden and you call me a vigilante?”
Keith almost looked like Daredevil with Chloe’s red scarf covering half of his face.
“Mystery is kind of our deal.” you said and motioned at Keith, “Put the gun down, he’s not going to hurt me. In fact, he’s going to let me walk away.”
Bucky tilted his head, “You think so?”
“I know so. I’d hate to mess up that beautiful face during combat.”
“You sound very sure of yourself.”
“I am.” you shrugged your shoulders and walked past him.
“Who are you?” he asked and you turned around to look at him.
“Come on, you know better than that.” You said and saluted him in a mocking manner before walking to the door, “Until next time, soldier.”
“I’m serious, feel my hands—“ you were pulled out of your thoughts when Keith reached out for you and you made a face, slapping his hand away once again.
“He told me he would stay at home tonight!” you exclaimed. “I can’t believe this, how dare—“
“It’s not like he said he was going to bed and ended up going to a club behind your back,” Chloe said, “Just saying, that happens a lot in some relationships.”
“Chloe, it’s not a real relationship!” you reminded her “What, my options were him having a one night stand and him going after the same target I was going to kill? By all means, he can go and get laid then!”
“But that would count as cheating!” Chloe said, “Besides, you know what they say. Targets over...ladies.”
“No one in the whole human history has ever said that honey.” Keith said helpfully and you looked out the window.
“Wait, where are we going?”
“The base.” Chloe said as if she was apologizing, “Dad wants to see you.”
You threw your head back and slipped a little on the leather seat.
“Great,” you muttered, “Tonight is getting better and better.”
                                    ***
Thankfully, General decided to let you go home after an hour of briefing. He had asked you whether you would like to be pulled out of other missions and instead just focus on Bucky but ignoring Keith’s glances, you had said no.
You had to prove yourself if you wanted to be a handler.
Thankfully it was Saturday so you could sleep until late and when you woke up, instead of going over the plans and rushing to the milkshake shop and coming up with strategy after strategy.
For some reason, you felt almost excited for your second date with Bucky. Maybe Chloe had a point, maybe you had to be extra careful not to lose yourself in your own cover. Just because you hadn’t had that problem before didn’t mean you could take it for granted.
You weren’t used to this kind of a mission. Not this long anyway, tricking a target was fine, it was expected but actually forming a relationship with them was much more complicated than a couple of lies here and there.
You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, looking in the mirror. You already knew Bucky would show up on his motorcycle, so you ditched the dresses and instead picked jeans and a nice blouse. When Chloe had first recreated your whole wardrobe for this mission, you whined for days but now you were slowly getting used to it.
Even though you were pretty sure you would never get used to the uniform.
Your phone started vibrating on the nightstand and you checked the caller I.D. before answering it.
“Hi!” you said, “Are you here?”
“Yes ma’am,” You could almost hear Bucky’s grin, “You ready?”
“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right there,” you said and hung up, then took a last look at your gun and put it beneath your pillow. Pushing your hair behind your ear, you locked the door behind you and made your way downstairs.
“Oh my goodness you were serious!” you said when you saw him leaning against a motorcycle and he looked you up and down, his face lighting up with a smile.
“Hi beautiful.”  
Your stomach did a pleasant flip and you didn’t even have to fake mirroring his smile, “Hi,” you murmured and pointed at the motorcycle, “You were serious about that.”
“I was, but—“ he turned around to grab something from the top case on the motorcycle, then turned to you, holding a bouquet of flowers. You gasped and reached out to take them from him.
“As promised,” he joked as you buried your nose into the bouquet.
“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him before heaving a dramatic sigh. “Well, we had a deal. I’ll have to get on this deathtrap huh?”
“Oh if you’re the type to break deals, you don’t have to,” he taunted and you scrunched up your nose. “But where we’re going is a little away from here, just so you know.”
“Where are we going?”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to explore the city?”
You nodded and stole a look at the motorcycle standing behind him, making him chuckle.
“You laugh now but if you drop me on the way—“
“I’m not going to drop you on the way.”
“Or if I die, I’m haunting you.” You pointed at him, “For the rest of your life.”
He nodded in a very solemn manner, “Deal.”
You placed the bouquet into the top case carefully and turned to him so that he could put the helmet over your head. The fond light in his eyes was impossible to miss as he fixed it and lifted the shield.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his hands still cradling the helmet and you grinned.
“Mm hm.” You said and got on the motorcycle after him, then wrapped your arms around his torso. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint aftershave filled your nostrils, making you inhale and you adjusted your grip.
“Ready to do this?”
“Nope,” you said, making him laugh, “Let’s do it anyways.”
                                        ***
You had never been so good at dates. You always thought it was awkward and to be frank most of the time you felt like it was an unnecessary step to getting to know this person when you could just look them up or ask Chloe to do it for you.
Besides, the last time you had gone on a date it had ended up in what spies could get as close to a relationship as possible.
But now, much to your surprise you were actually enjoying yourself.
“Brooklyn!” you said, looking around, “Oh my God, I’ve wanted to come here for a while!”
“Have you?”
“Yeah!” you said, “Since I moved to New York. I saw it on um— I saw it on Gossip Girl.”
“Is that a magazine?”
“TV show.”
“Ah.”
“You grew up here right?” you asked and he nodded.
“Yeah! Yeah I grew up very close to this neighborhood actually.”
“Do I get to see it?”
He tilted his head, “Do you want to?”
“Yes!” you said, “It’d be fun, don’t you think?”
He hesitated only for a moment, “Right this way then,” he said and held out his hand. You bit down and smile and took it, then started walking beside him.
“There used to be a movie theatre there,” he motioned at one of the shops, “I was actually— I came around here right before I was shipped off.”
“Really?”
“Mm hm. We went to this Stark Exhibition, me and—“ he stopped talking and you looked up at him before it dawned on you.
Steve Rogers.
Of course. Figures.
You cleared your throat, desperate to pull him out of his own mind.
“I can actually see you growing up here,” you said, “And for some reason you’re wearing short pants and you have a cap? And you’re like running around with a newspaper under your— am I describing a movie? I think I’m describing a movie.”
“Weirdly enough, you’re actually right.”
Your jaw dropped, “Wait, are you serious?”
“Yeah I had short pants and a couple of caps while I was growing up,” he said, making you gasp.
“Aww!”
“No, don’t.”
“That’s such a cute mental image!”
“Stop imagining it.”
“Tiny baby Bucky Barnes with his tiny little hat—“ you started but he pulled you closer to cover your mouth while still walking, making you let out a muffled laugh.
“Hey you should see my baby pictures, they’re a mess,” you said, “I have this picture with strawberry jam covering my face and my hair— oh, I’ve heard about this shop before! They make these famous bagels, do you want to take a look?”
“Sure, why not?” he said and followed you into the shop.
“Oh come on…” he muttered as he took a look at the menu board “Why does everyone put everything in food nowadays?”
You stifled a laugh and turned to the woman behind the counter, “I’ll get a cereal rainbow bagel and he will get something….classic.”
“We have plain bagel with cheese?”
“That sounds good. When exactly did people start eating lavender?” he asked you and you shrugged,
“Pretty recently I think,” you said and reached for your wallet but Bucky shot you a look.
“Don’t even think about it,” he quoted you and paid for the food, then you both grabbed the small paper plates and sat down on the small bar stools. You crossed your legs, turning to look at him better.
“I could let you try mine?” you taunted him and he chuckled.
“No thank you.” He eyed your bagel as if it was going to come alive any time. “I like the smell but…”
You tore a part of your bagel and put it on his plate. “Live a little Bucky Barnes.”
He held up the piece as if toasting you and you held up your bagel to touch his, giggling.
“So,” you said, “Could you rest last night? At least a little?”
His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if trying to decide what to say.
“Yeah,” he said eventually, “I did.”
Right.
Of course he would lie, it wasn’t as if he could tell you—
“I just had to go outside for an hour but it was fine.”
Your eyes snapped up to his and you blinked a couple of times, taken by surprise at his honesty. It would’ve been so easy for him to flat out tell you a lie, but for some reason he chose against it. You knew he wouldn’t tell you the whole thing but the fact that he hadn’t brushed you off somehow made you feel all warm.
“Oh?” you asked, “Is—is everything okay? You were safe right?”
“Of course.”
You raised your brows, “Bucky.”
“There’s just this…crazy person I keep running into but it’s fine, no worries.”
Crazy person?!
You stared at him but you managed to pull yourself together and sat up straighter, picking at the cereal on top of the bagel.
“As long as you rested just a little, I still take that as a win,” you pointed out, making him smile.
“How about you?” he asked, “How was your night?”
I ran into you right after assassinating another member of HYDRA.
“It wasn’t as exciting as yours,” you took a bite of your bagel, “Surprising isn’t it? Here I thought I was the dangerously adventurous one.”
                                ***
You were one hundred percent sure you were somehow doing this whole mission wrong. In fact scratch the mission, you were doing this date thing wrong.
You weren’t supposed to like it this much.
You had never enjoyed any of your earlier dates with other people this much. By the time you decided to go back, it was the middle of the night and you had spent the whole day together without even realizing it. It didn’t feel like it was a mission you had been put on, it almost—
It almost felt real.
You frowned at yourself, reminding yourself to keep your head in the game and got off the motorcycle when it stopped in front of the building your apartment was in. As soon as you took off your helmet, you started fixing your hair while he watched you with a smile on his face.
“I have a confession to make,” you said as you handed him the helmet for him to put it on the motorcycle.
“What is it?”
“There’s a slight possibility,” you said, bringing your thumb and pointer together close, “Very slight possibility that you may have been right about the motorcycle.”
“Oh was I now?” he asked, feigning surprise and you let out a giggle.
“Maybe,” you said, “I mean I didn’t die, that’s something.”
“That was an expectation?”
“That was a possibility,” you corrected him, “But I got on a motorcycle and you tried a weird bagel. As far as putting ourselves in dangerous situations on a second date, I’d say we’re even.”
“You know, thank you for acknowledging it,” he played along, “It was really intimidating at first, but I’d like to believe I pulled through in the end.”
“You did,” you said, “So proud of you. Maybe the next time you visit me at the shop, you can finally try Unicorn Cotton Candy.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said and shifted your weight, taking a deep breath.
“Thank you for today. I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”
“I’m glad,” he said with a smile, “Same here, aside from your quite disgusting taste in bagels, it was—”
“You didn’t like it?” you exclaimed and waved your hands in the air, “You know what, it’s fine. I have this strategy and you’ll—you’ll get there. We’re going to find something that is both completely modern and you like very much.”
“I think we already have,” he stated, his gaze locked in yours and you couldn’t help but smile at that.
“I’d hope so,” you replied, “Really.”
A silence fell upon you and you pushed your hair behind your ear.
“I should probably get going,” you pointed at the building with your thumb, “I have this very curious elderly neighbor, and trust me, she wouldn’t even wait for the morning to ask me about you if she saw us.”
“Oh we can’t have that, can we?” he said and you nodded your head, then gasped.
“Wait—Bucky, my flowers!” you said, “Give me my flowers.”
“Right,” he snapped his fingers and turned around to grab the bouquet from the top case, then paused.
“What?” you asked and he looked at you over his shoulder.
“Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to keep them in a very hot box whole day?” he asked and pulled out the bouquet, making you let out a whine at the sight. The flowers looked nearly withered and you took them from him, pressing your lips together.
“Okay, it’s not so bad,” you said as if trying to convince yourself, “It’s alright, I can fix this.”
“Darling I don’t think—“
“I can!” you insisted, “I’m gonna put them in water tonight or—or find some solution. I’m gonna google something, I’m pretty sure there are ways to save them.”
“Or I can just get you new ones.”
“That’s not how it works,” you pointed out, still holding the bouquet carefully over your chest as you assessed the damage, then looked up to find his eyes fixed on you.
“I’m—I should go now.”
“Okay.”
Neither of you moved for a moment before you took a deep breath, your heart slamming against your chest. You knew what your cover would or wouldn’t do, but somehow you had this urge that told you the situation probably called for your decisions, not your cover’s.
“Oh screw this,” you muttered as you stepped closer to him to stand on your tiptoes and pull him into a kiss.
Well, for you or your cover that felt like the best decision you had ever made on this mission.
He pressed you closer to his body, his hand cradling the back of your head and as if on cue, your stomach did a pleasant flip, giddiness filling your whole system. You rested a hand over his chest, feeling his fast heartbeat under your palm and let yourself get lost in the kiss until he pulled back slowly. A small giggle escaped from you as his arm around you got tighter, a smile lighting up his face.
“Well, you weren’t going to do it,” you commented, making him chuckle.
“I was waiting for the third date actually.”
“Oh how I’m glad the times have changed,” you said and caught the sight of the bouquet currently crushed between you two. You took a step back, tilting your head.
“Gosh, I don’t think I can fix this.”
“Yeah I’m pretty sure we just murdered them,” Bucky stated and you heaved a dramatic sigh.
“Worth it,” you grinned, “You win some you lose some.”
“New flowers next date, got it.”
A look of mischief crossed your face, “Deal. Good night Bucky.”
“Good night darling.”
You bit down a smile and made your way to the building, then hopped on the steps to get to your floor, somehow way too excited to get in the elevator and wait. As soon as you got into your apartment you leaned back to the door, closing your eyes.
Just your cover. You knew you had to act like your cover and that was why your heart was beating this fast, no other reason.
You pushed yourself off the door and stepped into the living room, still holding the flowers tight in your arms. You knew what you were supposed to do, back at the academy when you were being educated on seduction of the enemy, they always told you to draw the line between yourself and your cover. One of the easiest ways to do it was getting rid of every single thing your target would give you as a gift, keeping these gifts posed the danger of making you hesitant when it was time to bring the target in.
You couldn’t keep anything. You knew that.
It would be a rookie mistake.
You lingered on your steps, then approached the dinner table to touch the vase Chloe had put fake flowers in. You grabbed the fake flowers and pulled them out of the vase to throw them into the trashcan, then filled the vase to the brim with water and carefully placed the bouquet into it before putting it on the table again.
You were a professional spy. Keeping something as simple as flowers only for this one instance wouldn’t hurt anyone after all.
You were sure it would be fine.
You stepped back to take a look at the vase and shrugged your shoulders.
“My cover likes flowers,” you muttered to yourself and made your way to your bedroom.
Chapter 9
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looooooooomis · 4 years
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F I N A L  G I R L  |  T H R E E
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You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.
p a r t   t h r e e  |  j e a l o u s y
masterlist here
pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x
I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x
That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.
Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.
But that didn’t stop Steve.
Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.
The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.
All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.
“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”
“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”
He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?
He couldn’t stomach it.
His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.
Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.
Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.
Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.
The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.
“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”
“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”
Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”
That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.
At least where you were concerned.
“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”
“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”
You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”
“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”
Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”
You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”
Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”
“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”
»»-------------¤-------------««
“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.
You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”
“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”
“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”
Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”
With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”
You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”
With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.
“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”
You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”
Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.
“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.
You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.  
“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”
“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”
Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.
“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.
“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”
Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.
Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.
»»-------------¤-------------««
You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.
So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.
But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.
A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.
Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.
Dote over your best friend.
Oh, the irony was delicious.
Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.
The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.
Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.
Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”
“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”
Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.
“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”
You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.
You said nothing.
Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.
“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”
Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”
Bastard.
You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.
Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.
You had to go downstairs.
“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”
Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”
“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”
Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”
“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”
His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.
“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”
You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.
“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”
Feeding the enemy. Typical.
“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”
Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.
You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.
Your stomach dropped at the thought.
“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”
Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.
“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”
Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”
The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.
“Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”
“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”
He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”
“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”
A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”
“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”
“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”
“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”
Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”
“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”
“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”
“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”
You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”
“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”
“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”
“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”
“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”
A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.
“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”
You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”
The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.
You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.
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𝕯𝖎𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖆𝖚𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊 & 𝖈𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖘// 𝖆 𝕵𝖊𝖔𝖓 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌𝖐𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞
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Listen, bitch, is it fucking bad that I am addicted to 'Daddy Issues by the neighbourhood suddenly got a whole ass fanfic idea on my mind, so here fucking I am, thank you so much for the likes in my other disgusting fanfics and if you would like to share this one with your friend I would be happy since my mother told me if you have more than 55 likes on the next, I'll buy you a BTS t-shirt, I'm NOT FORCING YOU GUYS LOL, thank you and enjoy! oh, I'm planning on writing a Levi book on Wattpad tell me your opinion @meryamchaline45
Based on a song called: Daddy Issues
Warning: Blood, smoking, sexual harassment, daddy issues, mention of death, slight smut, harassment, Thief!Reader, Skategirl!Reader, abuse, abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST, swearing!!
abusive parents, parents cheating, ANGST!!
(IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF, DON'T READ!! don't report this please you have been warned)
Munching the food quietly she thought of nothing but how Seoul looked beautiful at night, a small scoff escaped her lips as she paid for the delicious food, looking at her wallet sighing, no money left. Taking her skateboard she stole a cap and a mask on her way out her E/C eyes immediately wide at the sound of the cashier yelling at her with a bat in his hand about to catch, slamming the door open she ran down the stairs not looking back, the cold breeze hitting her face as she ran grabbing her skateboard she skated between the cars so the man wouldn't catch her.
Her father grabbed her harshly by the hair followed by her skateboard and bag in the other hand, throwing her out of the house in the middle of the streets, every neighbor not even daring to welcome her even though they could see the pain and fear in her E/C eyes, but worst of all they still dared to watch and film her out of the window, I know it must be rough? damn, right it is.
Jungkook was hanging out with his group as usual and it seems like they got out of the café, but stopped brutally upon noticing cops chasing a H/C haired girl and grabbed her, slamming her face harshly against the car in front of them, a wince left the girls lips as she raised her hand in the air as she yelled out some words "it's a water bottle, please !" but the cops didn't seem to care since they cuffed her and decided to take her with them, as they turned around the girl cold eyes met Jungkook's dark brown ones, and that was his opportunity to study her face, she had beautiful H/C hair which was pretty messy, S/C skin, and had blood running down her nose and a cut on the corner of her soft lips, and it seems like she got into a fight for what? a bottle of water.
Watching the scene happening in front of them he stared as one of the cops broke her skateboard in half earning a bloody scream from her. "NO! how dare you!" she yelled with rage in her eyes as she was about to attack the police officer and punch the hell out of him but couldn't since the handcuffs stopped her from doing so but still the girl fell on her knees trying so hard to grab hold of the broken skateboard.
Sitting in front of the police officer she stared into nothing but emptiness; blinking ever so slightly her throat dry and didn't even dare to ask for water, "can I leave?" she asked her voice cracking as she sat on the chair, wanting to just kill herself. Grabbing her bag, phone, and broken skateboard she walked out of the police station to the place where she usually slept, the park.
Surprisingly she got a job the next day, and that is selling some street food with an old woman, the job got pretty handy, well, at least she would have 10$ to eat something and have a single water bottle for the day and not die from hunger, packing some dumplings in the small box she grabbed one of the bags signaling to the women "I'll go take these and will be right back Ajumma?" a small smile was on her lips as she walked away holding the hot food in her hand, the aged women seemed to be caring for her and would always give her some money even though she was poor and more broke than Y/N was, but still considered her as her daughter.
Knocking at one of the doors, she could hear the sound of music blasting and laughter, smiling at the memory of her being the best dancer back at school she opened the door peaking inside, the sight of a group of boys she recognized when getting arrested she handed the pink-haired boy the bag, "Jimin-ah~ you pay this time!" said a brown-haired boy behind him with a boxy smile, Jimin slightly rolled his eyes before smiling brightly at the girl taking his wallet out, a Gucci wallet which looked expensive, not like she wanted to steal it but these boys must be rich.
Bowing one last time, she walked away making sure to thank them and have a good day, "Ajumma, no I can't take them anymore what about you, you need your medicine so keep them besides I'll be okay for one day?" she said pushing them gently with a small smile, nodded Ajumma defeated but still thanked the girl a 100 times. "it was nice working with you, Ajumma, but I think I should go to either Busan or Daegu, I can't stay here anymore or dad will find me and- you know? so I'm gonna need you to go right now to the pharmacy and buy that medicine, we worked so hard for that now go!" she said pushing her gently toward the pharmacy with a small smile, pulling her into one last hug she kissed her forehead before walking away, waving slightly one last time before continuing her 'travel' in search of some way to escape Seoul before her father takes her back once again.
Sitting beside the boy she took his cigarette from his hand throwing it on the ocean in front of her, as he was about to grab another one she threw the box on the water, "so, do you want me to teach you that this mother fucker is a killer?" she said chuckling slightly at how he hated her already for throwing his precious addiction, "anyways, I need your help?" she said out of the blue, Jungkook raised his eyebrow waiting for her to continue her words "we all know you're rich as fuck, and I need you to buy me tickets to Daegu?" listening slightly to her words he took a picture of the couple kissing inside a laundromat with his camera, nodding slowly she almost squealed but stopped upon hearing his next words "in one condition?" "and that is ?" "I'll help you sneak inside my ex-house and go inside her room, to the drawer and there will be my clothes" "fine, when?" she said agreeing with his plan.
Standing in front of his ex house, she nodded at him before starting to climb the windows and could hear the sound of him talking to that girl more like flirting, looking at the window she could see them making out on the couch she had, opening the room window she did as told opening the drawer and grabbing all his stuff, a ripped book, AirPods, music DVDs and laptop looking at the polaroid with Jungkook smiling she stuffed it inside her pocket before looking at the room one last time.
Walking down the empty road beside Jungkook she handed him her bag full of his stuff, "you give it back tomorrow, you know where to find me? stay cool." she said smiling while flicking him off, the maknae staring at the girl with a small smile, this was her way on how to say goodbye or goodnight, the boy slowly waved back taking his keys from his pocket, opening the door of the black mansion greeting his mother on the way who seemed to smile sheepishly at him "who's the girl?" "mom I just met her" Jungkook looked so done as he stared at his mother dumbfounded
Opening the wagon door she ruffled her H/C hair after doing her routine, jumping down the wagon, she closed the door making sure to lock it with padlock, walking down the road she hid behind the wall watching as the man turned around running she grabbed a croissant, hiding it inside her jacket, thank god, he didn't notice and no one seemed to be out yet this neighborhood was always empty. the girl didn't have anything to think of but only the fact that this month was rough, she would eat once a day or not for a week, the asshole of the policeman broke her skateboard her mother got her before passing away and now she's a very famous thief in Seoul, what a beautiful life?
Nah, she always thought of giving up and standing at the edge of one of these buildings surrounding her, letting her body fall and join her mother. but couldn't, she didn't want to die and also promised her mother. Cursing under her breath Y/N limped to the front door of the beautiful black mansion, the door was suddenly slammed open and a woman stood there with wide eyes full of worry, glancing at the H/C haired leg Jungkook's mother immediately pulled her in sitting the girl down, the girl on the other side was shocked 'is this the wrong house? no, I remember JK saying this is his house' she thought confused but could see him coming out of a room holding a box, the boy slowly sat in front of her and started treating her wound out of as she sat there defeated and stared at him, his black curly hair looked so soft and his perfume was just UGH ravishing.
The food in front of her immediately got her attention as she started eating fastly, Jungkook mom laughing slightly at the girl "how many days didn't you eat something delicious?" "2 months, but don't worry- I only ate ramen 2 days ago!" she said munching slightly, Jungkook could see how her E/C eyes showed hope and slight happiness whenever she's eating, the girl was shining slightly than the last time he saw her, she was about to attack a police officer for breaking her skateboard and next was her handing a bag of dumpling to Jimin.
Sitting in front of the pool they had, she slowly took Jungkook's lighter from her pocket she found back in his ex house, playing with it she wrapped his sweater around her waist to great some heat, it was freezing but she needed to clear her mind a little bit, she was thankful of them, they gave her food, treated her wounds, gave her warm comfy clothes and welcomed her to stay with them...
And how much the girl wanted to kiss their hands for that, they made her feel safe after 8 years of the trauma and problematic life she finally felt home. The sound of someone walking behind made her stop from playing with the fire, wiping her head behind she smiled slightly at Jungkook who held a blanket sitting beside her putting the cover around both their bodies suggesting for her to get closer and not be afraid.
The handsome boy slowly handed her the phone back, it was midnight, thanking him she opened her phone, 1 notification, that's odd. Frowning she looked at the boy asking whenever to do it or not, nodding at her she tapped on the notification, her dad.
-------------------------------- 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙚 🖕-------------------------------
Happy birthday Darling, you turned 19, don't worry you're still my little girl right?
Fuck you.
Dad.
Seen 00:00
Just before he could even answer her text, she blocked him and deleted his number feeling calm and free, clenching the blanket around her hand she looked away trying not to let her tears fall, not wanting to show her weak side in front of Jungkook who seemed to know the situation and reason why she was cold and wants to run away. His anger was boiling, how dare a dad do this to his daughter? tomorrow was his final day alive he swore to make him pay for what he has done to his daughter. "it's your birthday?" he asked waiting for her to answer the question or at least look at him, 'why am I feeling empty when she's like that?' he thought nudging her shoulder, nodding she looked at him straight in the eyes tears covered her orbs as she stared at him deeply, her walls breaking down as she finally let them fall after staying strong for years.
살아남아야 한다."~Namjoon BTS (방탄소년단) 화양연화
Jungkook stared at her with guilt in his eyes pulling her into his embrace the girl cried quietly in his chest letting it all out. Not even noticing she fell asleep in his arms.
Holding the notebook in her hand, she knocked on the door of his room, hearing a groan behind the door she opened it looking at Jungkook who was fixing his hair, giving him a poker face she closed the door behind looking around his room, "shit, this place is fire" "I know right?!" he said on the other side trying to tie his hair into a ponytail, chuckling slightly she walked toward him standing on her tiptoe, "give it to me" doing as told he handed her the tie, her fingers slowly trailed down his hair sending a shiver down his spine at how cold her hands are, but a small smirk raised on the corner of his lips as his playboy self started showing Jungkook suddenly turned around before she could even finish his hair, landing on top of her his leg between hers as their faces were inches away from each other, his bunny smile on his face as he innocently grinned at her as if nothing happened.
Her eyes were dull and numb, but they lit upon seeing his beautiful smile
Having an amazing plan, she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer as she leaned in, her nose bumping his, with Jungkook staring at her parted lips not pulling away and liking the way how she pulled him closer, his lips so soft that she wanted to kiss them so badly but couldn't, twirling him around it was now her turn to smirk, she was on top of him grinning innocently while ruffling his black hair
"come on, time for dinner"
Walking down the streets of Seoul while listening to some music, she slowly walked into one of the cafes that lined up the street of Seoul. Pushing the door open the little bell at the door jingled when she walked in and the scent of coffee hit her like a truck, this café wasn't crowded and it was one of her favorites, for these past days both the teenagers got closer day by day and still couldn't open up to him yet, it was so hard. and it would be a terrible lie if she doesn't catch feelings for him. "hello, can I get an iced-americano please?" she said looking at the cashier taking out the money from her pocket she slammed it on the counter before making her way toward one of the tables, playing with the flannel shirt she burrowed from Jungkook the girl waited for her order, phone ringing she slowly answered the call
"Hello? are you fucking kidding me what has he done?!" yelled the girl hanging up, slamming the door open the girl ran down the streets
Jungkook on the other side drove in rage toward where her 'father' worked, sitting down on one of the chairs his feet tapping on the ground nervously as he glared at the ground, a man came toward him with a smirk on his face, Breathless with anger, he stood up and immediately punched the man square in the jaw he didn't care about anything at the
moment but to just make him pay for what he did to his daughter.
Dashing down the streets pushing past the people, everyone at first thought that flash just passed by them while it was just a girl running with panic in her eyes, walking inside the police station the H/C haired girl immediately pulling the boy into a hug, tears covering her E/C eyes, as she pushed the strand of hair from his face staring lovingly at him she cupped his cheek looking for any injury. Sighing she glared sharply at her father "you deserved it" she said spitting in his face one last time before walking out of the police station asking Jungkook if he was okay, driving back home in silence the girl thought 'why did he do that?'
Sitting him down she grabbed the first aid kit and some alcohol, it was now her turn to help him, "this will hurt, so grab my hand" sitting down in front of him Y/N gently pressed the cotton on the huge bruise he had in his hand not caring the fact he's hurting her hand due to the pain he felt, "I'm so sorry" she said out of nowhere not even glancing at him, wrapping the bandage around his bruised hand she tried to ignore how bad she wanted to hug him by trying to get up but Jungkook already beat her to it, with one simple fucking move. Cupping her cheek the boy pulled her back down and made her face him stopping her from moving, his hand pressing on her cheeks as his soft fingers caressed her ear sending a shiver down her spine, her legs suddenly became weak as she stared back into his doe eyes, his gorgeous orbs shining under the moonlight like a diamond in the center of a museum was everything for her
His Dior Sauvage perfume only made it worse, it was her favorite scent aside from coffee, she felt giddy and happy whenever she sees him and just want to squeeze him tight and never let go. but now it was her whole body burning like fire
"Y/N please, tell me what is going on and I promise I'll help you with anything?" he said looking at her E/C eyes back and forth still holding her cheek butterflies dancing on her stomach as she stayed silent not wanting to ruin this moment with her fucked up past, she was about to pull him into a kiss, the same feeling kicked in, she just wanted to feel his lips on hers for few seconds was is a hard thing to ask? the sound of the door slamming open made them snap out of their position and fall on the ground.
"dude..."
There stood the boys staring at them awkwardly, coughing she got up wiping her clothes from any dust making her way to her room "wait, Y/N you promised me!" "I'm sorry Tae but I don't feel like playing..." "no, you're coming now sit down" rolling her eyes annoyingly she walked back down and sat on the ground waiting for the boys to follow her movement. Watching as the bottle spun in front of her, the girl breathing hitched upon seeing the green bottle landing on her, slightly panicking she shot a look that could make the bravest of warriors scream in terror, but Tae who didn't seem to care, challenged her "Truth or dare?" "Truth" "what were you both doing when we came in?" "talking duh." her simple sarcastic answer only annoyed Tae more than he was and that made her smirk proudly 'i'm not falling for one of those plans, Taehyung' she thought raising an eyebrow at the boy who smirked back at her "then why the sexual tension, and you about to kiss him?" grin fading and eyebrow falling she stared coldly at the boy his blood running cold at the look the girl just sent him "i-i take that back" stuttered the boy still feeling her staring straight into his soul, the game continued but surprisingly it didn't land on her anymore.
Sitting on her bed, she pushed the blanket away from her cold body, opening the door slightly trying not to make a noise as possible, making sure to close it behind her before she made her way toward Jungkook's room knocking 3 times. Jungkook jolted up from his bed at the thought of Y/N and immediately ran to open the door, he was right, there she was standing slightly shivering from the cold but before he could even protest to give her something to warm up or say anything, she already pulled him toward the Kitchen, opening the fridge she slowly grabbed hold of ice cream box and two spoons, sitting beside him she stared at the clock ticking in front of her "wanna know why I always throw your cigarettes whenever I see you holding one?" she said glancing at the boy who already stared at her continuing her words "because my mother was so addicted to this fucker, sure, it revealed her stress but it also made her sick, we would always go to the rooftop and talk about anything that comes to our mind, that was until he decided to cheat on her out of nowhere and started going to clubs, she didn't find out by herself, but I did, I told her in our usual ted talk we had at night while watching the stars flicker, surprisingly my mom didn't seem to care since she already noticed his sudden behavior, so being a good mother she wanted divorce and when she told him I told her about the whole thing, of me coming home from school and seeing a bitch on top off him, he started doing it to her. Days passed and mom got weaker day by day and everything was becoming worse as she started smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day, and I don't want to lose you too after losing my own mother" she said scoffing a little bit at the memory flashing on her mind tears covering her E/C eyes.
Jungkook on the other side listened carefully and couldn't help but to intertwine his fingers with hers, and could feel her tensed up and her hand becoming warmer and not the usual coldness, looking at her he smiled happily at the sight of her looking at the moon through the balcony with a small blush on her cheek, as he was about to pull away afraid of hurting her she grabbed his hand back planting a gentle kiss on his veiny fingers and on top of the smiley face tattoo he had.
What are they?
A couple, close friends, just friends (pack it up, Adrien). She didn't understand why is the constant hand grabbing? cupping cheeks, the almost kiss in his room, He was so kind towards her and being his usual, bad boy self in front of the others?
Why would he like her anyway? she always thought of that which only broke her more remembering the fact she's going to run away and live in Busan and not stay with him anymore, her life was so confusing, should she stay with him or move away?
"Wanna know something?" asked the boy glancing at the girl who nodded at his question "you're living with me from now on, and this is the reason why," he said pulling her toward him by the hand, picking her up easily placing her in front of him and on top of the counter, with her staring directly into his eyes and his hand on both her side, the boy gently cupped her cheek. Heat rose from Y/N's stomach to her chest and behind her back. Jungkook's lips were getting closer and her heart decided to skip a beat, she could tell he heard it since the same bad-boy smirk came back on the corner of his lips. parting her lips she felt him washing over like a wave of warmth, curling her toes, unfurling all her senses as the taste of him nearly silenced all thoughts. The boys silently watched the scene happening in front of them Jimin and Taehyung taking pictures on the other side
the feel of his frame leaning on hers as his arms wrapped around her felt nearly forbidden. He pulled her in, claiming her mouth again, hungry and intense, until her knees gave in. Sure, she was a famous thief but in moments like these she's so nervous, he was her first kiss, what if it's bad?!. Her thoughts were stopped dead when his lips were gently pressed against hers, not knowing what to do she scooted closer toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck following the steps she remembered seeing in kdramas, he puts his hand on the back of her head and reassuringly strokes her H/C hair.
Heaven.
Pulling away gently the girl chuckled "you stole my first kiss-" "-and I'll do it again" he said cutting her off again with his lips on hers, a passionate and heated kiss made her melt in his arms, it was illegal for him to make her fall in love with him more with one simple fucking move. the next movement she made drove him crazy was the way her fingers played on his curly black hair, Picking her up his hand slid under her thigh, as he walked toward her room not breaking the kiss, closing the door behind them with his foot.
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Jungkook's head rested on top of hers as he played with her H/C hair, "I never told you this, but do you know how much the Dior Sauvage & cigarette scent drove me crazy whenever I smell it on the outfits, I borrowed from you?" "oh yeah? new kink developed I guess" "yeah, I guess it's my kink," she said glancing lovingly at the boy in front of her, his fingers slowly pushed the strand of hair from her face as he smiled back at her, his fingers under her chin as he pulled her into a kiss.
"I'm in love with you girl with Dior Sauvage kink, Y/N L/N "
"and I'm in love with you too cigarette addicted bad boy, Jeon Jungkook"
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comfortwriting · 3 years
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Three Can Keep A Secret F.W & G.W
Fred Weasley x Fem Reader x George Weasley (Part 1 of 3!)
Part 2, Part 3
masterlist
A/N: I saw a few fics and head canons that inspired me to write a bit of spice involving the twins! I’m open to Polyamorous Relationships, despite never being in one, so I hope that I’ve done an okay job at this! Enjoy my lovelies😊
About: The reader is in love with her two best friends: the Weasley twins. Little does she know, they’re both in love with her too. After a night of drinking at The Burrow, their secrets are out in the open - leading to an interesting night.
Warnings: Polyamory (if you’re not into it), light smut, alcohol, intoxication and swearing.
You smirked at Fred then at George, lifting up one of the bottles of fire whiskey you stole from your parents house. You flashed the label at them and quickly hid it before Percy could snitch.
“It’s so lovely to see you again my dear!” Molly chirped hugging you tightly.
You smiled into her warm embrace, hugging her back. “It’s lovely to see you too!”
“I’m guessing you three will be up late tonight, so I’ve already got your sleeping arrangements sorted in Ginny’s room with Hermione.”
The twins smiles instantly dropped as they were hoping you’d get to spend the night in their room for a change; but it wouldn’t matter, you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight anyway.
Reaching the end of the fabulous mouth watering and filling dinner, you helped Molly clean up whilst Fred and George went outside to the garden.
Walking outside to join the two of them you stared at the gorgeous sunset.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” You sighed, realising how much you didn’t want to leave the burrow and go back to Hogwarts.
Fred shot a smirk at George “we think you’re looking rather beautiful tonight, love.” Fred flirted with you.
You let out a laugh and shook your head, sitting down with the twins. Pulling your bag closer to you and unzipping it.
Did Fred just flirt with me? you thought to yourself and George agrees with him?
 “Are you sure you’ve not been drinking?” You pulled the two bottles of fire whiskey out of your bag.
George put his arm around you “positive”
You smirked at him, eyeing up his soft lips, questioning whether to kiss him or not, wondering what Fred would do and if George would kiss back.
You and the twins had been best friends for years, you went from fancying both of them to falling completely head over heels for them; with the three of you entering your last year at Hogwarts, you couldn’t help but feel your heart pain, you’d hate never being able to see them everyday, you’d hate them being so far away.
As the sun slowly went to hide behind the moon the three of you continued to share the bottle of whiskey, gazing up at the stars when you weren’t too busy laughing and chatting; it would be a fair call to say you were all drunk and if you weren’t mistaken, having a pretty decent first date.
“Want to play a game?” You asked, not wanting a silent awkward moment to creep up on you all.
“What kind of game?” Fred asked, smirking.
You bit your lip for a moment, debating which game would get you the answers faster. 
You began to shiver as the air cooled with the entrance of the night, both of the twins moved closer to you but hesitated for a moment, staring at one another. Both Fred and George were head over heels for you too, but they were unsure if you only liked one of them back.
“Please can one of you grab the blanket?” You slurred “so we can all cuddle underneath it together”
It became apparent to the twins (and later on it would become apparent to you) that the fire whiskey had removed any type of filter you had before, and they were going to use this to their advantage.
Fred grabbed the large blanket, throwing the other end to George, the two of them pulled it over their shoulders and moved in, cuddling you.
“So what game are we playing, love?” George asked, reminding you.
“Truth or dare” you smiled, looking at both of them “we all ask one another and we choose which one we’d rather do.”
Fred and George exchanged grins and nodded, the two of them appearing to be rather excited about this little game.
“Okay then” answered Fred “I’ll start.” 
The air became more nippy but the twins body heat was keeping you warm.
“Truth or dare Y/N?” Fred smirked at you.
You hesitated for a moment “Truth” you replied.
Fred looked at George and then back at you, placing his hand on your knee. 
“Do you fancy my brother George?” he asked, making you go red.
You didn’t want to lie and you didn’t feel the need to “I do.” you admitted, causing George’s heart to pound.
You bit your lip, both of them watching you “George, truth or dare?” you asked him. 
“Truth” he replied, a spark of confidence in his voice.
“Does your brother Fred fancy me?” you smirked, knowing George wouldn’t have the time to make up a lie to protect Fred.
Fred smirked, fuck, you were good.
“He does” George replied.
“Fred, truth or dare?” George asked his brother, the moment they had been finally waiting for coming closer and closer.
“Dare.” answered Fred.
“Tell Y/N everything.” George commanded his brother, the two of them chuckling at you, beating you at your own game.
Fred stared into you beautiful Y/E/C eyes and bit his lip, then licking them. 
“Me and my brother think you’re hot, Y/N. We talk about you often, we both have feelings for you and we think it would be unfair if only one of us could have you and not the other. We both want to fuck you, would be a shame if one of would miss out on the girl we love.”
You fell silent for a moment feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of you, you couldn’t believe what Fred had just confessed, you couldn’t have counted your lucky stars more clearer - the boys you had fallen in love with, loved you back, and best of all, you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving one of them out.
“So Y/N” George slurred, kissing your neck.
“Truth or dare?” Fred smirked, cocking an eyebrow.
You breathed out feeling elated “Truth”
“Do you accept our offer?” George asked, stroking your hair. 
Fred started to trace circles onto your thigh “Do you want to date both of us?”
You took a hold of Fred and George’s hand “I do.”
What happened next could only be described as something dreams were made of - you were sat in front of George in his lap, his lips planting kisses all over your soft neck - and Fred facing you kissed you passionately.
Moaning against Fred’s lips the rest of your evening was nothing short of interesting, passionate, and out of this world.
Stumbling into Ginny’s room the boys whispered goodnight and went off to bed, you held their jumper up to your neck, climbed in the sleeping bag and went to sleep, thankful that Ginny and Hermione were fast asleep.
Opening your eyes you nearly jumped out of your skin, Ginny and Hermione hovering over and staring at you. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, your head suddenly banging from all the alcohol last night. 
What exactly happened last night?
“Thank god you’re awake” hissed Hermione, the girls moving back allowing you to wake up. 
“Who the bloody hell did that to your neck?” Ginny asked, trying to figure out if it was Fred or George.
You stood up so fast the blood rush almost caused you to fall back down again, stumbling over to the mirror you were horrified but also amazed at the love bites scattered across your neck; suddenly remembering what had gone on last night.
One side of your neck covered in huge love marks belonged to Fred, the other side with smaller but plenty more love marks belonged to George. The two of them taking turns with you before tiring themselves out.
You had to stop yourself from telling them it was the twins “Uh, Fred” you replied, your own voice causing your ears to ring. 
“George isn’t going to be happy” Hermione sighed.
“Here” Ginny tossed you a hand-me-down turtleneck jumper “you can cover his marks with his jumper, if mum sees she’ll have a fit.”
Breakfast felt like torture, you, Fred and George were so hungover - your breath stinking of fire whiskey.
Molly’s scolding made your head pound even more and the three of you had to grip the table when given a plate of food to stop yourselves from throwing up.
Arthur chuckled and winked at the three of you trying to get you to drink some juice to make you feel better until his wife caught him, scolding him.
Despite feeling like shit, the three of you exchanged smirks and questionable glances that made Hermione and Ginny exchange looks of their own. Finally, breaking away from the table after clearing it, the three of you went outside to ‘get some fresh air’.
“Nice jumper” George smirked.
“Really suits you” Fred winked.
“About last night” you said coolly “was that just the fire whiskey talking or is your offer a fulltime option?” you asked, the bruises on your neck starting to feel sore.
Deep down, no matter how crazy last night felt, you wanted it to be real, you didn’t want it to be the actions of drinking too much alcohol.
Fred and George looked at one another, Fred nodded towards George, giving him the go-forward to speak. 
“Fulltime option, love.” George answered, his hands going into his pockets.
“It’ll be our secret.” Fred added, searching your eyes.
Again, not counting your lucky stars, you smiled at both of them, laughing lightly into the air. 
“Three can keep a secret.” You smirked, hugging them both.
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dudeandduchess · 3 years
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Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 4]
Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.
Note: Since it’s my birthday today, here’s a little something for y’all. Yaaaay! I was supposed to do a double update, but I got busy. But I hope y’all like like as much as I loved writing it. Can anyone guess where Kyō and (Y/n) are going though???
Warnings: Mild Smut, Teasing, Making Out, Dysfunctional Family Relationships
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5
***
Breakfast was a silent affair in the (L/n) household; as usual. Even more so when it was just (Y/n) and her mother— Akari— sitting stiffly at the dining table and picking at their meals.
(Y/n)’s back was ramrod straight, even if she was feeling all of the tension pooling at the base of her spine. She knew that she had to keep her posture as impeccable as ever, ‘as is fit for a Prime Minister’s daughter’; like her mother always said.
She couldn’t even take a bite of her food, in her apprehension of earning her mother’s attention. So, she pushed it around her plate at best.
However, her efforts were still all for naught, since Akari spoke up. “What are the things on your agenda today?”
And from the corner of (Y/n)’s eye, she saw Rin straighten up— ready to prattle off the same list that she’d gone through earlier— when she answered for the woman. “I have charity events all day. Why?”
“Just asking, since you have to maximize your appearances for the family while you can.” Akari finished her sentence with a quick look up at her daughter, before turning back to her food and taking another bite of her salmon.
Another reason why (Y/n) couldn’t eat her food: she was sick of having the same thing whenever she ate with her mother. Poached salmon with a poached egg right on top, green beans amandine on the side, with a spot of jasmine tea to wash it all down.
For the past fifteen years that she and her family had been in residence at the Prime Minister’s mansion, her mother had always picked out everything for her whenever she could— from the way that she used to dress, down to the things that she ate. And whenever she tried to protest, she was always branded as too ‘rebellious’ and ‘ungrateful’; so she’d learned to just stay quiet— if only to avoid conflict.
It was a godsend that her father had finally let her move out when she started university; on the condition that she would always spend her breaks with the family.
“Yes, okaa-sama,” (Y/n) muttered under her breath, not in the mood to even talk to her mother. She just wanted breakfast to be done with already, so she could get as far away from the house as possible.
Fortunately, her mother’s secretary announced that she was already running behind for a meeting— so without even a single glance at her, Akari walked right out of the dining room; causing (Y/n) to finally let go of the breath that she’d been holding since she had sat down at the table.
“Do you have some candy, Rin?” The young woman asked softly, wanting to wash out the taste of the jasmine tea that she’d taken a sip of earlier. And when the other woman handed her a piece of cherry-flavored candy, she wasted no time in popping it into her mouth. “Thank you. So, what’s the first thing on my agenda again?”
However, for the second time that day, Rin was cut off before she could even answer; that time, with a loud series of honks from the outside.
“(Y/n)-sama,” One of the housekeepers hastened into the room; a little flushed and breathless from having exerted that much energy, before continuing, “You have a guest.”
“Who?”
“Your fiancé, ma’am.”
She couldn’t help but close her eyes and pinch the bridge of her nose, because that was just what she needed after dealing with her mother: another difficult person to handle.
Still, she found herself feeling a little better— and a little flushed from remembering what he had done to her just the day before— since he was a good distraction. Not to mention, total eye candy. And with a little sigh, she began her walk to the front door.
When she got there though, it was to see Kyōjurō pinching one of the fresh calla lilies between his fingers; only to jump when he heard her words clear as day.
“Those are real.”
The blond grinned at that— bypassing the center table that had the vase of flowers that he’d been admiring— as he closed the distance between him and (Y/n); boldly wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. “Really? Not as real as this kiss, though.”
With those words hanging in the air, Kyōjurō then leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss; smiling into it when he felt her respond for a brief second, before pulling back a little. He wasn’t having that, however, so he chased after her lips while his free hand cupped the back of her head.
He could hear a few housekeepers gasping in surprise a few ways away, but he couldn’t care less about any of them. Not when he could taste the candy that (Y/n) had in her mouth. So, even more boldly than before, he snaked his tongue between her lips, and slowly coaxed the piece of candy right into his own mouth.
A little breathless from his antics, he finally broke away from (Y/n)— but not before pressing one last gentle kiss against her lips. “Didn’t know that you liked cherry, baby.”
“Shut up,” The young woman whispered, chest heaving and cheeks aflame with a blush. But she made no move to push herself away from Kyōjurō; not because she wanted to stay there forever, but to save face— since she could feel the beginnings of an erection pressed up against her. “What are you doing here?”
“You tell me to shut up, and then you ask me a question. You’re so confusing, sweetheart,” Kyōjurō teased, but still supplied her with a decent answer. “I’m here to take you out for breakfast.”
“I already had breakfast.”
“Then a second breakfast.”
“I have a charity even to go to later,” (Y/n) protested.
But Kyōjurō wasn’t having any of it. “I’ll take you after breakfast. So go and get everything you need, baby.”
***
“Wait, wait!” (Y/n) almost screeched, as she sat down on the buttery leather seat of Kyōjurō’s flashy, red Audi R8. “What about security? I was supposed to have-”
Before she could say anything more, the blond leaned down and pressed his lips against hers— effectively shutting her up— before jerking a thumb at the car behind his own. “You think I would bring you anywhere without thinking of your safety? Over there are two of my most trusted men: Shinazugawa and Tomioka. They don’t necessarily get along, but they get things done…”
And to add to that, Kyōjurō continued, “Besides, you have me to protect you, baby.”
With that, he stole another kiss from (Y/n), before grinning down at her and getting her settled in her seat. He didn’t know why, but taking care of her like that sent his heart fluttering wildly in his chest; maybe it was the novelty of actually doing it for a woman, or maybe it was all because it was her, and the fact that they were going to get married, but he loved every minute of it.
It wasn’t even that he wasn’t a gentleman to his past lovers— he was— but he didn’t really care for them at all. They were good for one thing, and he only kept them around for that, since he was busy with running his family’s business.
But with (Y/n)… he couldn’t even explain it. She was special.
Trying to suppress a smile, he walked around the car to get to his side, before buckling himself in and turning the engine on. However, when the radio turned on, it was still connected to Kyōjurō’s phone— and it had (Y/n) wide-eyed for a second, before she burst out into a fit of giggles.
“I wouldn’t have thought that you were the type to listen to Arashi,” The young woman teased, her giggles getting even louder when Kyōjurō decided to be silly and dance and sing along to the chorus of ‘Turning Up’.
When (Y/n)’s giggles calmed down into a smile, however, the thought that maybe— just maybe— spending time with him wasn’t that bad crossed her mind; and it had her silently agreeing. Especially when she looked back up at Kyōjurō and saw him grinning as he pulled out of the driveway.
When he wasn’t being a teasing horndog, he was okay; at least to (Y/n).
“What time do you need to be at your charity event?” The question had her jumping in surprise, but she quickly composed herself and rifled through all of the mental notes that she had made before leaving the house.
“Ten. And then I have another one at three.”
“Do you like doing these things?” It was such an offhanded question, not meant to be prying at all, but (Y/n) felt it hit much closer to home than her fiancé had intended. Still, she wasn’t mad at him for it; in fact, she felt… relieved, and happy.
Because, for the first time ever, someone had finally asked her what she thought. It was something small and insignificant, but to her that meant a lot— and it had her warming up to him just a little bit more.
“Well… to be honest, no. I don’t like it.”
Kyōjurō was just about to ask why she still did it if she didn’t like it, but the brief glance he cast at her— making him catch a glimpse of the melancholy look in her eyes— had him speaking before thinking. “Fuck those charities. Let’s just go out on a date today.”
“My mother would have my head!” (Y/n) exclaimed with a shake of her head, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through her at the possibility of rebelling; but still trying to stay rational and do what had been asked of her.
However, the blond already beat her to the punch, since he had pressed one of the numbers on the screen— making the car extremely silent, save for the revving of the engine, and the steady ringing of the line.
When someone on the other end picked up though, Kyōjurō didn’t even waste time on pleasantries. “Can you call my mother-in-law’s secretary and tell her that I’m taking (Y/n) out on a date? For the whole day.”
And with that, he dropped the call, letting the car be filled by the song that had been playing before; acting as if he hadn’t just sealed his fate by making his future in-law severely dislike him.
“She’s going to hate you.”
“Too bad, I’m still taking you out on that date.” And, as if to prove his point, he pulled the turn signal before making an illegal u-turn. Thankfully, there hadn’t been any other cars on the road.
(Y/n), completely shocked, screeched, “That was illegal!”
“Baby, you’re marrying me; you’ll be finding out all the illegal things I do for a living very soon."
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redgillan · 4 years
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Under Pastel Skies - 9
Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.
Word Count: 6,257
Warnings: mention of accident, mention of blood
A/N: I’m sorry this took longer than usual but it’s pretty long so yay! I hope you’ll like this chapter. We’re slowly getting there :’) Thank you for the feedback, I truly appreciate all of you! Also 1 marvel quote and several Bob Ross quotes that I obv don’t own.
Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.
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Good luck on your interview xx
Bucky had just hit ‘send’ when Sam cleared his throat noisily, drawing Bucky’s attention away from his phone. His friends were frowning crossly at him, their glasses raised in a silent toast. He set his phone face-down on the table and picked up his glass.
“Sorry, you were saying?”
Sam shot Steve a ‘see?’ look and Steve replied with a shrug and a little smile. They looked like two sassy grandmothers judging their only grandson. Bucky checked his phone again, and out of his peripheral vision, he could see his grandmothers share another look.
“What?” he barked, annoyed.
“Nothin,” they both answered at the same time before they took a synchronized sip of orange juice.
Smacking his lips together, Sam opened the menu and began to skim through the choices. A waiter suddenly came out of nowhere to take their order. Bucky ordered a cranberry rosemary scone, smoked bacon, an eggplant sandwich, and a plate of lemon-ricotta pancakes.
“Excuse-me,” Sam called out to the waiter. “Could you make his pancakes in the shape of an angel?” he asked, ignoring Bucky who was openly glaring at him.
The waiter, albeit a little surprised, kept a smile on his face. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Bucky told him, handing him the menu. “Thank you.”
Without another look to his friends, he grabbed his phone and checked his messages for the third time in less than two minutes. Steve snatched his phone up and sat back in his seat, waving the phone at Bucky.
“Enough! Live in the moment.” He pocketed the phone and gave Bucky a pointed stare. “You’ll get it back later.”
“What the hell? You’re not my father, give it back!” Bucky snapped, extending his hand, the palm facing up. Steve shook his head. “Give it back, you fucking meatball.”
He got up and tried to reach inside Steve’s pocket for his phone but Steve kept shifting in his seat. They wrestled like that for a minute while Sam watched them, eating a breadstick and looking mildly entertained.
“Okay, fine,” Bucky panted, pushing himself away from Steve. “You leave me no choice, Rogers.” He cleared his throat like an actor about to jump on stage. “Give me back my phone, Steve!” he said, raising his voice. “Do you enjoy stealing from disabled people?”
He nearly shouted the last two words, and to Steve’s horror, the buzz of conversation around them had died. He could feel people staring at him. Cursing softly under his breath, he reached into his pocket and dropped the phone into Bucky’s awaiting hand.
“It’s okay, we’re friends,” Steve said to the people sitting behind him. They looked at him with a disapproving glare. “Jesus, Bucky, you’re making me look like an asshole.”
An amused expression crossed Bucky’s face as he sat back in his seat. “Don’t touch my stuff.”
It was quiet while he checked his messages. Slowly, those around them returned to their own conversations. Sam pointed his half-eaten breadstick at Steve.
“Do you think the waiter will spit in your omelette?” he said the last word with an exaggerated French accent. Steve glared at him.
Their waiter arrived a moment later carrying a large tray with their brunch. Steve poked at his omelet with a suspicious frown, then looked over at Bucky who was still on his phone. Sam stole a slice of bacon from Bucky’s plate and gave it to Steve.
“I hear you’ve got a date tonight,” Sam said, making conversation.
“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just looking for something casual. I’m leaving in two days.”
“Where’re you going this time?”
“South Africa,” Steve replied, stealing another slice of bacon. “What about you? What’s that big emergency?”
Sam glanced at Bucky who was grinning like an idiot at his phone. “Not now. Let’s eat first.” He took the plate of bacon, took what he wanted then handed it to Steve. “Want another?”
Steve kept looking over at Bucky while they finished his bacon but Bucky didn’t seem to acknowledge their presence. He was in his own little bubble.
“It’s like we don’t even exist,” Steve remarked out loud.
“I know, it’s amazing. Look!” Sam straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. “Bucky Barnes is the biggest idiot on the planet, and he can eat my farts.” Bucky was hunched over his phone, his thumb typing away. “See?”
“Impressive.”
“That’s the angel effect,” Sam said.
With a happy little sigh, Bucky pocketed his phone and turned his attention to his friends. He frowned at the amused look they shared.
“What are you guys talking about?”
“Steve’s first date in two years.” Sam turned to Steve. “You must be nervous.”
“Strangely, no.” Steve broke off a small piece of omelet with his fork. “I actually know him. He’s an old friend from college.”
“Nice,” Sam said.
“He’s a fashion photographer now.”
“Wait, what?” Bucky’s brows pinched in confusion as he stared at Steve.
Undeterred, Steve continued. “We’ve been facetiming a lot lately.” He shot Bucky a glance. “Why do you think I go to bed at 8?”
“But I thought-”
“You thought I had a date with your girl,” Steve said with a warm smile. “Listen, man, I like her. She’s cute, funny, talented. She’s a real sweetheart. But I like her because she brought back that light in your eyes. You look happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you. You had to go through so much crap, Buck. You deserve this.”
Bucky looked down at his pancakes, feeling tears pool in his eyes. He blinked them back and sniffed quietly. “So you were never going to ask her out.”
“I was until you called her ‘angel’,” Steve replied with a shrug. “You kept saying you were okay with this but, I mean, I’m not that dense.”
“Why do you keep going out with her then?” Bucky grumbled.
“Jeez, Mother Gothel, I didn’t know Rapunzel wasn’t allowed to leave the tower,” Steve exclaimed. “We were bored. You’re in your office all day. It was fun to mess with you though. You’re a grumpy Gus when you’re jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous, okay. I was annoyed. There’s a difference.”
“Uh-huh.”
Bucky looked over at Sam who had been strangely quiet throughout this whole exchange. He loved teasing Bucky, and he always had something to say about Bucky’s love life. Sam wasn’t looking at Bucky, he just pushed his food around with his fork, his lips pinched shut. He met Bucky’s eyes, then lowered his head again.
Bucky had a feeling something bad was about to happen.
“What’s the big emergency?” he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.
Sam set his fork down beside his plate and leaned back against his chair with a sigh. He trained his gaze on the front door, seemingly deep in thought.
“I’m moving to D.C.” He paused to let the information sink in. “They’re transferring me to the D.C. office. I’m their new chief financial officer.”
“Congrats, man!” Steve exclaimed. “You deserve it.”
“Yeah,” Sam replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what I’ve always wanted.”
“So why the long face?”
“I’m a little anxious to leave New York. What will Barnes do without me? Without his mentor? Without someone to look up to?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll be all right.” He hesitated before he asked, “Did you tell her?”
“Tell who?” Steve inquired, polishing off the last of his omelet.
Bucky felt the wave of long-held sadness his Sam’s eyes. “I’ll tell her tonight.”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?”
Sam and Bucky shared a look. They weren’t sure how Steve would react.
The word sugar daddy held a pejorative connotation. Every single one of those relationships featured a powerful, rich man and a poor, vulnerable man or woman. There was a clear power imbalance here that never appealed to Bucky, and he was pretty sure it never appealed to Sam either.
Whether it was a no-strings-attached service or an emotional service, it was still a hole in your resume. One that would be hard to explain to your future employers. He was afraid people would call you names, treat you differently or harass you if they knew.
He often wondered if he had unintentionally ruined your life.
Deep down he knew Steve would never call you a whore or treat you differently but he was still trying to protect your reputation. He believed that Sam had Natasha’s best interest at heart too.
Sam told Steve everything. He remembered the day he had met Natasha, their instant chemistry, the subtle flirting, the arrangement, their first night out, their first kiss, their first time together, their new arrangement. Steve listened attentively. When Sam told him that you were Natasha’s best friend, Bucky interrupted him and told his own story.
“Wow,” Steve deadpanned, leaning forward to take one of Sam’s poached egg and avocado toast. Sam slapped his hand away. “Is that a thing now? Sugar daddies, I mean?”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Yeah.” Steve sipped his mimosa with a bored look on his face. “You’re both not ready for the real conversation, so I’m just making small talk.”
Sam and Bucky exchanged confused looks. “What real conversation?”
“Sam, you just got an amazing promotion, you’re going to be the Prince of D.C. and you’re sitting here like someone kicked your puppy,” Steve replied, then turned to Bucky. “And you, well... I’ve been living with you for the past two weeks and you’ve gone all Alpha male on me, Buck. Cut the shit. You’re both in love with your sugar babies. Companions, or whatever the fuck you want to call them.”
Sam and Bucky sat in silence with their heads hung low. Steve opened his arms wide like a lawyer in a bad TV show saying ‘I rest my case’.  When he spoke again, his voice was soft.
“Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen, um?”
It made Bucky think. Best-case scenario, you loved him too and life was a breeze for the next fifty years. Bad-case scenario, you didn’t share his feelings. Worst-case scenario, you shared his feelings but couldn’t make the transition from sugar baby to girlfriend.
Yeah, worst-case scenario sucked...
He came home around three in the afternoon, and smiled when he saw your shoes and coat. Knowing you were home always put him in a good mood, but his heart was heavy. He felt conflicted. He didn’t know if it was better to tell you how he felt now or to just keep living in this little bubble with you until it’d inevitably burst.
And to make things worse, Sam was going to end his contract with Natasha tonight. He made Bucky promise not to tell you about it. Bucky felt sorry for Natasha, he wondered if she had feelings for Sam. He wondered if she had a backup plan.
He found you in your studio, sitting on the floor, huddled against the wall, with one knee drawn up to your chest and your arms loosely wrapped around your leg. You were staring at the painting you’d just made, the still wet paint glistened under the artificial lights.
This painting was different from your usual landscapes and occasional portraits. There were various shades of blue and grey intertwined, and five big splotches of dark red paint layered on top of the canvas.
Bucky knew just by looking at you that something was wrong. You looked defeated, sad, upset. He reasoned that your interview didn’t go as planned. Quietly, he stepped into the room and sat down on the floor next to you, his left shoulder brushing your own.
“I just got home,” he said.
“Where’s Steve?”
“He said he had some errands to run. He’ll be back later.”
You nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Okay. I bet you can’t wait to have some time to yourself. I asked Natasha if I could stay with her, but she’s going out with Sam tonight. I’ll stay in my room, I won’t bother you.”
Bucky felt his heart drop, his breath caught in his throat. He had made the woman he loved feel unwelcome. God, he wanted to kick his own ass.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, tilting his head to look at you but you were stubborn and refused to meet his eye. “I thought you were going out with Steve and I- I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with me.”
“I’m not interested in Steve. I told you that.”
“I know.” He moved so that he could see your face. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, and for the way I treated Steve. It won’t happen again. I promise. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course, Bucky,” you huffed.
He saw your chin quiver slightly and your eyes glaze over with unshed tears. You looked utterly broken. He reached up and wiped a stray tear from your cheek.
“Sorry, I had a difficult day,” you said.
His palm cupped the side of your face, his thumb stroking a caress across your cheek. You met his eyes for the first time and he smiled softly at you.
“My angel.”
His words made you cry even harder, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. With his hand still cupping the side of your face, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against your other cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his affection.
He could feel the warmth of your tears, could taste the salt on his lips as they streamed down your cheek to his mouth. Slowly, he pulled back and looked at you, a smile forming on his lips when he saw a fleck of dried blue paint above your eyebrows.
“Painter Smurf,” he teased, wiping it off. You let out a huff of air that sounded like a laugh. “I’m here for you, angel, whatever you need.” He pulled you against his side and you rested your head on his chest.
“My interview didn’t go very well,” you said after a long moment of silence. “She said that I’m really talented, that my technique is perfect. But my work is too figurative. It’s not what she’s looking for.” You paused to wipe your nose on your sleeve. “It’s just- It wasn’t my first meeting. They all tell me the same thing: I’m not good enough.”
“That’s not true,” Bucky said, kissing your hair. “Your work is unique. It’s raw and beautiful. If they can’t see that then they’re morons.”
“She told me that if I had been a white man in the nineteenth century, people would still talk about me today.” You sighed. “I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe I should work on something more abstract.”
Bucky tilted his head to one side as he looked at your painting. “Is that why you painted this?”
“Mhhh,” you hummed. “She told me to play with the textures, the forms, the lines, the colours. Suggest rather than show. Let the painting tell its own story.”
“Yeah, I think you did it.”
“You think it’s good?”
“I don’t think those adjectives apply here. Not with modern art. It’s in the eye of the beholder,” he said, running his fingers along your shoulder. “Abstract art isn’t supposed to be beautiful, it’s supposed to make you feel something, right?”
“How does it make you feel?”
“Unsettled, sad.”
You straightened up and sat shoulder to shoulder. “My brother died in a hit-and-run.” You let the information sink in for a minute. “I was with Okoye, we got a call from our mom but by the time we got to the hospital, he was already dead.”
Your voice was surprisingly calm and controlled. Bucky wanted to reach out to you but he was unable to move. He listened attentively, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest.
“He was wearing some kind of compression shirt, grey-blue with two white stripes, and it was covered in blood. When I close my eyes and think of that day, all I remember is that shirt and the blood.” You tilted your head and gave him a little smile. “That’s what I painted.”
Bucky didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. He couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Sorry,” you let out a small laugh. “I had a shitty meeting and then I came home and basically relived one of the worst days of my life to put it on a canvas. Now it’s staring at me and all I want is to shred it to pieces.”
Bucky noticed that your hand was close to one of your palette knives. Your fingers brushed against the handle, debating whether you should pick it up and slash the canvas. He laid his hand on top of yours.
“It won’t help,” he said. “Trust me. I can put the painting somewhere else if you want. You won’t have to look at it again. I promise.”
“Yes, please.”
“C’mon, beautiful, let’s go downstairs. I know someone who can help you.” He got to his feet and extended his hand to you. You frowned up at him, a silent question in your eyes. “His name is Bob and he paints happy little trees.”
A bright, wide smile spread until it lit up your whole face, and Bucky’s heart melted at the sight. He grinned at you and pulled you to your feet.
“I love Bob Ross,” you said, and Bucky gave your hand a little squeeze.
In the living room, you sat down on the sofa, crossing your legs under you and grabbed a blanket while Bucky connected his YouTube account to the TV. He sat down beside you, propping his feet up on the coffee table and adjusting the blanket in his lap.
“Hi, welcome back. Certainly glad you could join me today.” The show started and you melted against Bucky’s chest, pulling the blanket up to your neck. “Thought today we could do a fantastic little painting-”
You were pressed against his bad side, but Bucky didn’t mind. As the show progressed, you slid further into his lap until your head rested on the armrest of the sofa, close to Bucky’s right hand.
“People know when you’re happy. They can look at your paintings and tell how you were happy. They reflect your moods. Paintings are a reflection of your innermost feelings.”
He gave your head a little massage while you both watched Bob Ross create a stunning lake view painting.
“Cuz in your world, you can create any kind of illusion that you want. I spent half my life in the military, and I had to live in somebody else’s world all the time. Painting offered me freedom, I’d come home after all day of playing soldier and I could paint the kind of world that I wanted. It was clean, it was sparkling, shiny, beautiful-”
You shifted a little, and Bucky wondered if those words resonated with what you had been through. Being adopted, losing a brother, taking care of your sick mother when your siblings left, graduating, making ends meet... Those experiences had shaped you into the woman you would be for the rest of your life. A kind and strong woman who never really got to live or enjoy life.
He understood how important painting was to you. He was an artist too. He wasn’t a painter, but writing offered him a kind of freedom he had lost a long time ago.
“We should paint along,” you said, tilting your head up to look at him. “Then I’ll sell yours. I bet people would pay a lot of money to own an original Grant Thomas painting.”
Bucky chuckled. He knew you were teasing him, the slight curl of your lips said as much. “I’ll sign it James Barnes. It’ll be worthless.”
“It’s not worthless to me,” you said.
“Would you hang it in your room?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then, okay, I’ll paint along with you.”
When the episode ended, you decided to eat dinner first and paint later. You were sitting at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of leftover pasta from the night before, when Steve came home.
“Hey guys,” he greeted, throwing a plastic bag on the kitchen island before he made his way to his bedroom.
“I’m so fucking late. I still need to take a shower and get dressed.” Steve came out of his room, shirtless, and working his belt buckle open. “Hey, Buck, can I borrow some clothes?”
“I swear to fuckin’ God, Rogers, if you undress in the middle of the kitchen I’ll make you eat your jeans.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A minute later, Bucky heard the shower running.
Later, you went upstairs to gather canvases, paint brushes and paint while Bucky helped Steve pick out an outfit.
Steve was too excited about his date to remind Bucky that he was an idiot, and Bucky was happy that for once they didn’t talk about his feelings for you. He teased Steve and watched as Steve squirmed, the tip of his ears bright red. Just like old times.
Then they met you downstairs where you had two easels set up in front of the television. Steve stood in front of you, visibly nervous and agitated, while you looked at him from head to toe.
“How do I look?”
“Like you’re wearing clothes two sizes too small for you, which makes you look even bigger than you normally are so... pretty good.”
“Yeah?”
You chuckled. “You look great, Steve.”
Steve responded with a relieved sigh and a little bashful smile. Bucky liked that look on Steve, it reminded him of their childhood when Steve awkwardly flirted his way through Brooklyn.
Bucky jerked back to the present when Steve turned to him for confirmation. He gave him a firm nod and a thumbs-up, then walked him to the kitchen. They talked about Steve’s plans for the night while Steve gathered up his things.
Bucky was walking back to the living room when Steve called out his name and threw something to him. Bucky caught it in mid-air, then looked down at his hand. A shiny looking condom wrapper was nestled in the palm of his hand. He scowled at Steve.
“Just in case,” Steve said with a shit-eating grin.
“You’re a dead man.”
Steve’s laughter echoed down the corridor as he left the apartment.
Blowing out a breath, Bucky pocketed the foil packet and joined you in the living room. You were sitting at your easel, blobs of paint arranged in a semicircle on a palette. There was another easel next to yours, with a palette resting on a stool to make things easier for him.
You selected the lake view episode you had watched earlier, thinking that it would make things easier. Bucky was in awe of you, you made painting look so effortless and beautiful. You added your own trees and clouds, shifting things around to create your own world.
Bucky followed Bob Ross’ instructions closely but, in his opinion, it looked like someone had made it with their feet. You laughed at his comment and told him that you would still hang it in your room. It boosted his ego a bit.
When you both finished your painting, Bucky looked up at the clock. It was close to midnight which made him do a double take.
“Time for me to hit the hay,” he said, yawning. “This is as good as it’s gonna get.”
“Mhh,” you mused, turning the TV off.
“You okay?”
You shrugged. “Yeah, I- uh, I was kind of hoping we’d do this all night,” you said, playing with a mostly dried paintbrush. You looked at him from under your lashes. “But it’s fine. I understand, you’re tired. I think I’ll wait for Steve.”
Bucky looked at you with a pained expression. He could tell something was bothering you. He placed his index finger under your chin and tilted your head up. “Angel, I don’t think Steve is coming home tonight.” You pinched your lips together and nodded. “Talk to me. I want to help.”
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Your words hit him like a punch in the chest, leaving him momentarily breathless. He pulled you close and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. You clung to him for dear life, your warmth and familiar scent made his heart ache.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled against your skin, then pulled back a little so he could look you in the eye. “Let’s change into something more comfortable, um? Then we’ll catch some shut-eye. I have an idea, the first person to fall asleep has to make breakfast tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
“You’re right. I’m exhausted, I’ll fall asleep first,” he said, shaking his head. “New rule, last person to fall asleep has to make breakfast.”
You snorted. “No, I meant... are we going to sleep in the same bed?”
“I promise I’ll stay on my side. But if it makes you uncomfortable, there’s a bunk bed in Steve’s room.”
“No, it’s fine. I want to wash my face first. I’ll see you in a minute.”
Bucky tried to play it cool but his heart was pounding. He kept seeing flashes of his dreams in his mind: skin against skin, steady puffs of air brushing against his skin, the smell of sweat and something uniquely you surrounding him.
He was absolutely terrified.
He went upstairs, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas. His night-time regimen took longer than he had anticipated so he wasn’t surprised when he found you sitting cross-legged on his bed, scrolling through your phone, looking so calm and peaceful.
You were wearing your pyjama bottoms and a fluffy sweatshirt stained with blue paint and tomato soup. He felt his stomach flip when you raised your head and smiled at him. A chill ran through his spine, and made the hairs on his arm stand on end. He’d never seen you look more beautiful.
“Hey,” you said, placing your phone on the nightstand. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”
“The side you’re sitting on.” You rolled to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers making him laugh. “You didn’t have to move.”
“It’s fine. I prefer this side.” You looked around the room. “I like your room. It’s very you.”
“Ah?”
“Yeah, neat, organized, lots of books, a cosy armchair, stormy blue comforter. It looks intimidating but it’s actually really soft. Like you.”
He suppressed a laugh. “Thanks.”
Bucky climbed into bed beside you, turned off the light and drew the blanket over him trying to get warm. He lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. He was so stiff and nervous, he forced himself to breathe normally. You turned onto your side and slid one of your hands under your pillow.
“Do you usually read before you go to sleep?” you whispered, afraid to disturb the silence.
“Yes,” he whispered back. “Do you?”
“Sometimes.” There was a moment’s silence before you spoke again. “I’ve started reading your book.”
“Oh, Christ,” he let out a small laugh and turned his head to look at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. “I hope I didn’t traumatize you.”
“You have a very dark sense of humour,” you said. “But I already knew that.”
“I’ve always had a dark sense of humor, but trust me, when I lost my arm I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Therapy helped a lot. Besides, laughing is good for your health, right? My books are very personal, I don’t censor myself.”
“I know. I wasn’t expecting it to be so honest.” You shifted a little and looked away from him. “I don’t know if I’ll finish it, I feel like I’m intruding.”
“I understand.” He shifted slightly so he was lying on his left side, facing you. “I wrote it like a diary. Talking isn’t my strong suit. I don’t know, I think I’m trying too hard and I just end up being rude or not making sense. When I write, I take my time, I find the right words. It’s easier when I don’t have to look anyone in the eye.”
He knew his book was a little rough. He focused on his depression, his rehabilitation, relearning basically everything. He talked about rediscovering his body, intimately. He talked about his friends, his family, strangers, therapy, dating.
“Can I ask you a very personal question?”
“Of course.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
He swallowed hard, his throat raw and tight. “Yes.” In fact, he was in love right now. “Once. I don’t trust easily.”
“I know I read what happened between you and your girlfriend.”
She had been his first girlfriend since the accident. She was kind, patient, a little over excited but he found it cute. In a way, she reminded him of himself before the accident. She wasn’t afraid to touch him, and God, he needed to be touched.
Sam had witnessed little things that irked him but Bucky had ignored him, refusing to see the warning signs. He wanted to be happy again. But then he couldn’t bury his head in the sand anymore.
She treated him like a child in front of their friends, and her friends praised her for taking such good care of a man like him. A man who, in their mind, was high maintenance. She cut his meat for him even though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. She helped him dress, tied his shoes, zipped up his coat, etc... He felt infantilized, humiliated.
He didn’t think she was a bad person though. It was just her personality.
“How’s Natasha?” he asked suddenly.
A puff of air caressed his face as you snorted out a laugh. “Why do you ask? You don’t like her.”
“I like her a lot,” he argued. “She seems wary of me, which I understand, but she’s great.”
“Yeah, she is.” You considered his words. “She’s doing well. She went on work date with Sam.”
Despite his promise to Sam, he couldn’t bear the thought of keeping things from you. “I have to tell you something about Sam and Nat.” You waited for him to continue. “Sam got promoted, he’s moving to D.C. He broke things off with Natasha tonight. I mean, their arrangement.”
“I know,” you said. “She texted me while you were in the bathroom. I’m going to spend the night at her place tomorrow. It’s been a while since we had a girls’ night, and we both really need it.”
“Good.” He cupped the side of your face, let his thumb brush your jaw. “I’m going out with the boys tomorrow. Steve’s leaving soon.” He pulled his hand back. “We should try to get some sleep.”
“No, please,” you said, shifting closer to him. “Not yet.”
“Angel, we can’t stay awake all night.”
“I don’t want to be alone in the dark.”
“I’m right here with you,” he spoke gently.
“But once you fall asleep I’ll be alone.”
Bucky raised his head and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. When he pulled back, he rested his hand on your forearm and let his warmth seep into your skin. His thumb caressed the inside of your wrist, stroked over your racing pulse point.
“I’ll wait until you fall asleep,” he said.
“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled and let your index finger run down the length of his nose. “Does it hurt when you sleep on your left side?”
“Not really,” he replied. “Most of the time it’s just weird. It feels like my phantom limb hangs down through the bed. Like my arm is invisible and just goes through the bed.”
“What do you miss the most?”
He let out a long exhale. “Not much. Hugs. Proper hugs... I guess. Holding someone close and wrapping myself around them. Squeezing someone against my chest, making them feel protected. I used to be a great hugger. Now I give bro hugs.”
“I love bro hugs.”
His chuckled dissolved into a grin, and you both stayed quiet for a moment. He knew you weren’t asleep, he could hear you thinking. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
“I was wondering,” you started, then trailed off. “One day we’ll have to end this arrangement. Do you think it’ll end well, or is it going to be messy?”
It took him a minute to respond.
“Y’know, one of the things I learned in therapy was to stop worrying about things I can’t control,” he said. “That’s in the future, for future-you and future-me. I don’t know how it’ll end but I can promise you one thing: I’ll always be there for you. Arrangement or not.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out. “Right-now-me is a lucky bitch.”
You both laughed softly, then fell into a contemplative silence. There was something so peaceful about lying in bed with you, his hand loosely wrapped around your wrist, sharing warmth. He didn’t want to fall asleep.
For the next hour you talked about your families, your childhood, your friends, your likes and your dislikes. You told him about being an adopted child and living with other adopted kids. He could tell you were holding back when you talked about your siblings.
The only one you gushed about was Okoye. You were evasive when you talked about Scott and Wanda, though you did tell him that you had agreed to meet Wanda.
“What’s your favorite comfort food?”
“Breakfast for dinner.” Your voice was soft and small, he knew you were falling asleep. “When I was a kid, we had breakfast for dinner every Sunday night. We’d grab a bowl of our favourite cereal and eat together in front of the TV. I miss those days.” Your face was half buried in your pillow. “What’s yours?”
“Easy, pancakes.”
You smiled, your eyes were closed. “I like pancakes too.”
He watched you fall asleep and made a mental note to make some pancakes for breakfast. Your breathing evened out, and he waited a few more minutes to make sure you were asleep before he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.
Bucky woke up to the sound of rain striking against the window. He opened his eyes and noted that the room seemed brighter than usual. A quick glance at the bedside clock told him that it was already a little past eight.
He stretched, sighing contentedly, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his closed fist. He tilted his head to look at you, still sleeping next to him. You lay on your stomach with your face turned away from him and your arms hugging your pillow. He adjusted the covers around your shoulders and stealthy slipped out of bed.
He went to the window and fixed the shades to make sure they didn’t let any light in. Then he made his way downstairs where he found Steve cracking eggs into a bowl. He was still wearing Bucky’s clothes, but his hair was a mess. Still he looked positively glowing.
“Mornin’,” Steve greeted with a wide smile.
“Hey, man.” Bucky took a seat at the kitchen island. “When did you get back?”
“About ten minutes ago. Long enough to notice that your angel hasn’t slept in her room last night. Wanna talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Bucky said with a shrug. “She didn’t want to be alone.”
“So you slept with her.”
“We slept in the same bed. Nuance.”
“I’m gonna nuance your face with my fist if you don’t talk to her soon,” Steve exclaimed. “She’s not going to stay single forever, Buck. Things are gonna change, one way or another.”
“I know.”
Steve set the bowl aside and held the edge of the counter behind him. He sighed, exasperated. “If I were you, I’d talk to her before something happens and takes your choices away from you.”
Bucky pinched his lips together, hard, and looked down at the counter. A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I- I don’t know how to talk to her,” he said, feeling tears gather in his eyes. He met Steve’s eyes. “I physically can’t talk to her. It hurts. It’s stuck here-” he aggressively grabbed his stomach “-all the time. And it hurts, Steve, you have no idea how painful it is.”
“That’s love,” Steve replied, smiling at him like he, too, knew how it felt.
“Well, it fucking sucks.”
Bucky wiped the back of his hand against his runny nose. Steve stood there in silence.
“This book I’m writing,” Bucky said, breaking the silence. “It’s about her. Just her.” He paused. “I can’t back down now, my publicist’s too invested in our story. I know it’s an eccentric way of telling someone you fell in love with them but... writing’s easier than talking.”
Steve nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. “It’s like a long love letter.”
“Something like that.” Bucky climbed off the stool and rounded the kitchen island. “Now, I’m going to make breakfast. I promised her pancakes.”
Steve smiled and watched him move around the kitchen. “I hope it works out for you, Bucky. I really do.”
Part 10
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wdwmarveldisney · 3 years
Text
She’s gone
Peter Parker x fem!reader
Summary: Peter and reader are dating when she finds out she has hodgkin lymphoma and makes a few videos for Peter.
Masterlist
A/N: I don’t know why I wrote this but I did. I was also emotional when doing so, so that’s probably why it turned into angst. This idea has probably been done before but eh.
Tw: Talks about Hodgkin Lymphoma (a type of cancer) and death of a character.
(Gif isn’t mine)
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The camera was unfocused, the bright light that shone in the background making her a blurry silhouette. Slowly everything became clear, the girl in the driver's seat tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and staring ahead. From what was passing by the window, the people seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, passing the nothingness as they went. The last few seconds of a song faded out and another began, the girl immediately smiling to herself and reaching it over to turn it up and scream the lyrics. For You by Why Don't We was a great song but not exactly the best with her out of tune screams of the words. "HEY! SHE SAID 'I REALLY MISS THE OLD YOU'! THEN FOUND SOMEONE BETTER!" A laugh had escaped the lips of whoever filming, camera shaking as the girl finally turned to face them. "Peter, put it away! I swear to fucking god!" She reached over, the car seeming swerving every so slightly making Peter laugh at her panicked expression. "Stop being such a dick! Stop recording!"
"No, it was adorable," Finally Peter spoke before the camera flipped and moved so both of them could be seen. His eyes were practically glowing in the light, his brown hair reflecting in such a way the ends looked golden. He pouted slightly at her when she held up her middle finger to him. "Fuck you Parker," her little annoyed mutter made him smile as he faced her, intertwining their fingers and resting them on the compartment in between. "You do," the girl's jaw literally dropped as she glanced between him and the road, stuttering out responses that were really just noises strung together to make up nothing translatable. Peter's laugh echoed once more but this time his grin was captured in the shot too. It was wide and as bright as the light that filled up the car with this vintage kind of vibe. Finally, his laughter subsided, his eyes going to her and then the camera. "Anyways, I'm recording because I think it's cool to document moments like this. So future us and anybody else watching this video, me and my wonderful girlfriend here," she pulled a stupid face to the camera, tongue sticking out and nose scrunching up, before looking back to the road, "Are on a road trip. We just visited her extended family and are on our way back to her apartment where her mum is waiting and the roads are basically empty,"
"And Peter almost killed my grandma!" This time his jaw dropped, a blush making its way to his cheeks as he shook his head repeatedly. "I didn't, I swear. All that happened was that I gave her a hug and with my super strength, it hurt her like a tad," she shook her head this time, looking to the camera as she spoke, "She has bruises," Peter had a guilty and sorry expression on his face that made her laugh as she continued, "And yet, he still got more birthday cake then me. On my birthday!" They both laughed this time, the camera zooming in on her perfect grin before the video ended.
~
This time, the camera was on Peter who sat leaning against the headboard of a bed on his phone, no doubt scrolling through some form of social media. The camera was moved so it became propped up against something and once again the same girl was in the shot, sitting next to Peter whilst glancing between his screen and his concentrated look. She moved to rest her head in his lap, the boy moving the phone to see her cheeky smile. He grinned back, turning his phone off and immediately playing with a strand of her hair. "Hi," she mumbled and it seemed to make his grin go wider as he leaned down and pecked her lips, "Hey," the girl sat up and reached over to the camera to stop the video, Peter's arm going round her waist as she did so.
~
It was the same place as before where the camera was propped up except this time it looked like a sunset or sunrise, Peter sleeping whilst his girlfriend filmed herself. "Hey Pete. Okay so, I want to just quickly point out how fucking adorable you are for starters," her hushed tone was a clear sign that she didn't want to wake him up but the over the top pointing could of easily hit him in the face. "But what I really wanted to do is say I love you. I've got a secret from you but by the time you see this, you'll know and so this is just me, telling you again, I guess. I know I'll tell you soon because I can't lie to you," tears had welled up in her eyes, a small sniffle being heard as she faced the sleeping Peter, "Oh god. I don't want to leave. You deserve so much better than this. Ok," she took one deep breath, calming herself as she looked to the camera again, new tears already flooding down her face like an overfilled river. "Um, I recently found out that I, er, I have," there was a pause, the next bit being too hard to say, "I have hodgkin lymphoma. It's a, um, a type of cancer," she took a shaky breath, her focus on her fingers that had reached across to a sleeping Peter's hand and began to fiddle with his, "And I'm having treatment but, it's bad," Peter began to stir and she had been quick to wipe at her face and shut off the camera, cutting off the her actually telling him.
~
Peter was shown having a slushy, holding hands of the person holding the camera. He smiled brightly, face scrunching up, no doubt thinking it was another picture and not a video. "Ok, we are going into that store over there and you are picking out clothes for me and some for you and I'll pay for all of it," the girl from behind the camera spoke and Peter's face immediately dropped as he finished his slushy and chucked into a bin not too far away, "You will not pay," the camera flipped round to face her, her chapped lips twisted into a teasing smile, "And they say chivalry is dead," she was suddenly standing up, half of Peter's face visible in the shot before he placed a peck to her cheek and hugging her, the girl simply continuing to film over his shoulder. "I love you," his calm whisper into her hair was muffled but she could still hear it, responding in a small voice, "I love you too,"
When they got into the shop, he disappeared with a small "Bye," and his girlfriend moved to the side, sitting down in the shoe area and holding the camera up. "So a public place isn't the best area to do this but I wanted to have happy moment before each of these because that's what we are. And this is the first video of a few. I love you and I know you better than anyone else. Maybe not May, but still. The point is, I know when I'm gone you're going somehow flip the blame onto you. You've already started doing it since I told you and I hate it. This isn't your fault and it isn't mine. These things can happen and I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry that it's happening to you. Because I know and have excepted that I'm going to the unknown but you, you have to live with this and you are so strong. You been through so much and you're still the best fucking person I know and I can't believe that had the privilege to know you let alone love you. You are everything that is good in the world rolled into this little package of adorableness and no matter how many punches you take, you always get up and laugh with people and make jokes and be the best human being to ever exist. So this first video is me telling you, don't blame yourself and move on. Because you deserve more than anybody can give you and I want you to be happy for the rest of your life," she was full on sobbing, looking extremely weird to passers by. "I need to go so then you don't know I did this because I cried my fucking eyes out," and once again the video stopped.
~
A loud bang followed by a frustrated scream was the first thing that filled the speakers. Peter had the camera on him, staring off at something out of shot with this dopey grin on his face. "You okay there?" He asked cautiously, hand running through his curls. Suddenly his grin was wider, rushed footsteps in the background, and he stumbled as if just pushed or hit by something. The camera lowered to show his girlfriend hugging him. "School fucking sucks," She looked at the phone, pouting slightly as she snatched it out of his hands. "That's mine," he laughed, hugging her from behind as she aimed the camera towards them, "Yeah I stole it. I was texting Ned on there 'cause mine's out of battery," the girl gave a small nod, moving her head to snuggled closer to his neck as he pecked her cheek.
Another bang was heard from elsewhere and Peter sighed, glancing behind him. "That's May. I've gotta go help her," one quick kiss to her forehead and he was gone and her smile slowly faded. "This isn't exactly how I planned to do this one but I'm gonna go with it. Hi again, this is the second one and I want to start again with I love you. I want you to do something for me. I know I live with my mum and I've rarely met the Avengers but I also know you deflect pain. Most of the time it's to helping people but when it's all too much, you get angry and you yell at people at random points 'cause you're bottling it up and I know that it's just going to be those heroes who get it. So I want you to, every time you want to scream and shout and blame someone for some small meaningless thing, I want you to tell them how you're feeling. I want you to talk about everything because as much as I love you, your dumb as fuck to not see how many people care for you and are willing to hear you out. I don't care if you don't want to burden anyone, okay? 'Cause you're not. They are there for you so be a man and talk about your feelings. I'm sure they'd prefer helping you than being at by you, okay? You're probably going to get back soon so I should go but, um, there's only one more to go and I love you,"  The camera shut off, her wobbly smile and tear stained cheeks being the last things to be seen.
~
The camera zoomed in on the intertwined fingers before going to the ridiculous amount of snacks and finally to the movie playing on the screen. Then it faced the side where Peter was shoving a hand full of popcorn into his mouth and trying not to choke when he saw the camera on him. He had a buzz-cut now, no doubt recently shaving his hair off. "It's movie night! Put it away!" The camera flipped to show his lovely girlfriend who now had no hair. And yet, she was still smiling and laughing despite things not exactly being okay. She then turned to get them both in the shot, a massive grin on her lips. "Look what this amazing human being did for me! How am I so lucky?" Peter snatched the phone, turning the video off. 
~
There was a lot of shouting in the background, laughter mixed in. the camera faced the cream ceiling, pieces of hair visible every now and then."You can't Peter! It's bad luck! Get out!" His laughter became muffled after the slam of a door and the camera finally showed the girl, no different to the time before except maybe slightly paler and she had a little bit of makeup on. She smiled brightly to the camera and moving over to some sort of desk to prop her phone up. "Ok, so no happy moment before this one because if you can't tell by the dress I'm wearing or the me just kicking you out my room, it's the non official wedding," Her hands went to the waistband of her white dress that ended at her knees and looked like something you'd wear to a prom. "You're a terrible husband if you don't remember that and I want a divorce," She let a breathy laugh leave her lips, placing her hands on her head. "In case you actually don't remember or there's someone else watching this, MJ did the ceremony, Ned walked me down the aisle and was best man and Harry was the maid of honour but he refused to wear the pink dress I got him because it didn't work with his eyes so he's got that blue dress that he's wearing. Right, this is the third and last one. I can't believe you set this up. I told you that I was so upset that I wouldn't spend the rest of my life with you and wouldn't get to have a wedding with you and you set this up because legally we can't get married so we're getting fake married. My mum and May are literally the only guests and they are getting flowers so I'm alone right now in my room until they get back and fuss over me," 
She sat down in the swivel chair, smile still present on her face. "Alright, this one is pretty much what I've been saying the last two videos except I'm actually saying it this time. I want you to look after yourself, okay? I don't want you doing anything stupid when I'm gone like getting yourself hurt overworking as Spiderman. Take a break, there are other heroes out there who are more than willing to help you if you can't do it. Move on, please. I know that it's going to be hard but I'm always going to be a part of your life, whether I'm there or not and you just have to accept that. Also, I know this probably won't help with the move on but can you check in with my mum every now and then. She's trying to act all strong but she's just like you and she's losing a daughter so just, keep her happy, for me? Please. Just be good to yourself  and move on. Ok this is the last one and I'm about to talk to my mum about sending you these when I'm gone so, I love you," And the camera stopped, catching the girl's broken expression rather than bright beautiful smile.
~
There was cheering, the video focus on Peter and his girlfriend kissing, whilst the few people around them clapped and cheered for the 'married' couple. Peter was lightly brushing away tears from her face when they pulled away, her doing the same to him. He suddenly smiled wide and picked her up bridal style, kissing her once more. "Ok Parker, you can stop kissing my little girl now!" Her mother shouted, Peter smiling sheepishly towards her but was soon brought into another kiss. When they pulled away, she stuck her tongue out to her mum before turning to Peter and pointing down the makeshift aisle. 
~
The lights were dim but the video was still clear. It was the two dancing, swaying to the slow song as Peter rested his chin on the top of her head. She was clearly crying as was Peter, the two looking like they were holding on for dear life. Sweet whispered 'I love you's were shared and then the video stopped.
Peter wiped at his eyes harshly. It was the third time watching them since... And he still sobbed his eyes dry. I mean, of course he did, it was his first love. He hadn't even told the Avengers, whenever they asked if he was going to bring her to another party or if they'd get to meet her again, he'd just walk out. Go try not to break down somewhere where no one could see him. But he felt okay watching this on the big screen in the living room of the compound because no one was home or at least that was what he thought. And to begin with, they weren't. Actually it was the time he took to set up linking his phone to the TV that they all walked in quietly. That they all saw everything on those videos. That they finally understood why he was holding back from missions or patrolling every night. Why he wasn't free for dinner every Wednesday because 'he and May had dinner with someone important'. Why he wasn't spending his entire day talking about you anymore. They had thought it had been a break up, like a really bad one but it wasn't. So Peter sat sobbing on the couch, the superheroes crying behind him, yet to make their presence known. Even Natasha and Bucky were crying.
"Hey kid," Tony finally managed to say, Peter jumping up and spinning round to see them all there. "Um, how long have you been... there?"Just from their faces he knew, trying to cover up the fact he'd been crying but Tony immediately held his hands out as if it would stop him. "Wanna talk about it?" He looked like he was going to say no but then his eyes met Tony's and he had launched himself at the man. "She's gone," He cried into the man's shoulder, holding on like he was a lifeline. 
"Y/N's gone,"
141 notes · View notes
deniigi · 3 years
Text
So @petrichordiam and I are menaces and giggled over our ideal dinluke flower shop AU for like 4 hrs and then I wrote this.
Title: murderer next door
Summary: Din works as a florist and Luke works as a bookseller and they’re both assassins trying to keep the other off their turf.
-------------
Two times now, Luke had crashed past that flower shop, and two times now, the fucker inside had taken out his mark. Now all Luke had to say about the whole thing was that it was too bad that he was going to have to kill the guy.
Han told him not to turn back. The mark was dead; the mark was gone. They weren’t fast enough this time, but there would be others.
Luke just couldn’t let it go, though. He had rent to pay, and McFloristApron over there was smashing through all his targets and making that nigh impossible—regardless of how many marks there were in the area.
Luke waited until Han had closed up shop for the night and remained there in the dark with his arm slung over the back of the chair in the backroom, surrounded by books. He rolled his shot of whiskey in its tumbler. The sound against the old wood table offered no comfort.
He stood up and left the glass to get his laptop.
He wasn’t losing to some florist, Han, sorry. Only one family could take innocuous cover on this street, and it was them.
 ---
McFlorist’s name wasn’t listed on the florist’s staff page, but then again, none of the people on that page had names. In fact, the website’s whole vibe was all wedding-chic until you clicked on the ‘staff and contacts’ tab. Then, it may as well have been a line of mugshots.
Luke squinted along the row of increasingly involved headgear until he got to someone with a reasonably-sized neck with no tats. The ladies on either side of him appeared to have sapped all the ink out of McFloristApron. He wore a mask over the lower half of his face and gave a stoic thumbs up to the camera.
Under his picture was the number fifteen.
Damn.
Luke was only making eight per pop. Who the hell was this guy eating up all the feeder fish, huh? Them lower division folks had to eat too, you know.
Well.
‘Lower division’ in a sense of the word. Being two times undercover wasn’t super glamorous, Luke had to say. But when your dad fucked it up for the first family, sometimes you had to take what you could get.
Luke pointed at Fifteen on the screen.
“You and me, pal,” he said. “You and me.”
 --
 Step one was to get paid first.
Luke chased down three marks on the other side of town to pay the rent and the medical bills for now. His hand’s new sleeve felt like a dream. It didn’t overheat like the nylon black one did, and the hand was far less shiny now as a bonus. That had certainly reduced the number of people catching something move out of the corner of their eye.
Was it worth fifty grand?
No.
Was it worth the last nine that Luke had left to pay on it?
Yeah. It was definitely worth the nine.
 ------
 Step two was to go make it clear to Fifteen McFlorist that he and his folks needed to back down in the face of the established guard.
Luke put on his biggest sweater and the thickest glasses he could find. He stole Chewie’s messenger bag with all the pins on it. He slung it over his shoulder and rolled the hems of his jeans up just a smidge too much, then scurried over to the florist’s across the way.
Fifteen was off to the side of the register, fucking around with something in the refrigerator. Luke busily and noisily looked through the wall of foliage on the side of the shop nearest the window. He hummed. He hawed. He made anxious nerd-sounds until a voice asked, “Hi, can I help you?”
Luke glanced out of the corner of his eye and found that Fifteen was standing facing his way now. His mask was gray this time. His apron was orange. His boots were too heavy-looking for florist work.
“I’d love that,” Luke gushed breathlessly. “See, my mom just got engaged and I’m on the way to her house.”
Fifteen lifted his chin slightly.
“What’re her favorites?” he asked tonelessly.
Terrible customer service skills, dude.
“Roses,” Luke said.
“Ours are shit today,” Fifteen said. “How about dahlias?”
Luke didn’t know what those were but sure.
“That sounds great,” he said. “You have any in pink?”
 --------
 He watched Fifteen brutalize some pink, orange, and white flowers into a bouquet wrapped with a silver bow and was sure to smile every time the guy looked up.
“That’ll be $37.59.”
Sir, these are dead flowers. There is no need for that price.
“Can I put it on card?” Luke asked. “How long have you worked here, if you don’t mind me asking? I work just across the way is all.”
Fifteen’s dark gaze flicked up. His hair was covered by a gray beanie two shades darker than the mask.
“At the club?” he asked.
“The bookshop,” Luke corrected him with a shy, but widening smile.
Please be gay. Please be gay. Please be gay. Leia wasn’t going to want to cooperate. She thought it was beneath her to establish boundaries like this.
“Blue paint,” Fifteen said. “Yeah, that place. How long have you been there?”
“My brother-in-law’s place, actually,” Luke said. “I started there last year after I finished college.”
Or, you know, maybe even eight years ago when he’d finished college. No one had to know. Baby faces don’t kiss and tell after all.
“Huh. You must like it there,” Fifteen said.
“It’s fine,” Luke hummed. “You like it here?”
“The kid does.”
“Oh, you’re a father?” Luke asked. “How old?”
“He’s three,” Fifteen said. “Godson. His folks were in an accident; didn’t make it.”
“That’s terrible, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Luke said. “He’s lucky to have you.”
Fifteen handed him his card back. Luke’s hand didn’t close in time to catch it and it fell onto to the wooden counter.
“Sorry about that,” Luke said, reaching for it with the other hand. His knuckles bumped into Fifteen’s when he went for the card at the same time. They both paused and went for the card again with the same result. Luke laughed.
“Slippery, am I right?” he asked, flattening his fingers on top of the piece of plastic and snatching it away.
“Very,” Fifteen said. “I hope your mom likes them.”
“Me too,” Luke smiled. “I’ll see you around—What was your name?”
“You can call me Armando,” Fifteen said.
“Armando,” Luke sounded out. “It suits you.”
It was a falsie.
“And yours?”
“James.”
“It suits you.”
It didn’t.
“Bye now,” Luke said. “Thanks for your help.”
He let the door fall closed behind him with the tinkle of the bell.
 --------
 He informed Han that “Armando” had a toddler and received only a warning look and a scolding for all his effort. Han told him not to get jealous. If there was a kid in the balance, then Fifteen, for better or worse, was going to have to see each day after the next until there was no longer a kid in the balance.
Luke offered to call CPS and report “Armando” as an assassin.
“You do that and those folks across the street are gonna call the VA and tell them I’m an assassin,” Han said. “Lay low, Luke. Lay low.”
Never.
“Christ. At least until that thing’s yours then.”
Luke glared at his right hand.
“Gimme a double,” he told Han without looking away from it.
 ------------
 It was never easy to hunt in the daylight, but Luke wasn’t here to do easy things. He needed to get Mark No. 1 alone. The man took the train once a week to a gentleman’s club on his lunch break. Luke needed a change of clothes.
He had a rainbow windbreaker, white boots, and fishnets all ready to go.
He got on the same train as the mark and dropped his phone nearby. It clattered loudly and the case came off. Luke swore and squatted to drop it at the same time that two girls next to him decided to become good Samaritans. They crouched with him and one of them caught the phone first. They handed it back with a smile.
“I like your jacket,” she said.
Luke let his face struggle to find a smile at her kindness to him, a sweet little twink trying to find the pride parade that happened two weeks ago.
“Thanks,” he said. “I like your bracelet.”
He stood up. The girls were pleased with themselves. Luke glanced back to find Mark No. 1 turn his head abruptly away.
Come here, Markie.
Do you like what you see?
  Mark No. 1 didn’t make it out of his hotel room. A pity. Luke took the elevator down and huffed and puffed about a cheap date when he passed the front desk. He stopped abruptly and went back to ask the receptionist what the cross street was. She judged his go-go boots.
He told her she wasn’t his type. Her manager gave him the cross street.
Mark No. 2 had different parameters.
 ----------
 Mark No. 2’s parameters involved chasing him through a maze of boiler rooms and dumpsters. He was chump change towards a hand that Luke hadn’t wanted in the first place, but alas. The anger still roared.
Luke cornered him, still in go-go boots—no need to sacrifice style for speed—and watched those pale eyes look every which way as Mark No. 2 realized that there was no getting out of this.
“You got options, friend,” Luke said. “I can bring you in hot or I can bring you in—”
“—cold.”
His head snapped up and he lurched out of the way just as the crack of a bullet exploded in the alley. A car backfired around the corner in a sympathetic cough. Luke stared at the body then twisted around just in time for a thick glove to latch onto the back of his neck.
“Well, look who it is,” Fifteen drawled.
Luke glared out of the corner of his eye.
“Hands off, Armando,” he warned.
“I like your boots.”
“You’re gonna love ‘em when they’re on your dick,” Luke warned.
“Back off, Nayberry.”
Fucking hell, Han. This is why they should have set up boundaries weeks ago.
“I prefer ‘James,’” Luke said sweetly.
The glock levelled at his face didn’t care.
“You took my mark,” Fifteen said.
“Aw, poor baby,” Luke pouted. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you took mine.”
Fifteen’s orange apron was gone. He’d swapped it for an old leather jacket—something he could more easily wipe clean. He should’ve gone for patent leather. The brown really wasn’t working with his grey mask-beanie situation.
“Stay in your lane,” Fifteen warned.
“Only if you stay in yours,” Luke beamed.
Fifteen huffed.
“Bookstore,” he scoffed. “Who’d you give the flowers to?”
Luke tsked.
“Myself, jackass,” he said.
“Do you even have a mom?”
“What the fuck business is that of yours? You even got a kid?”
Fifteen’s stare was deadly—the cooling body before them notwithstanding.
“Take one step near him and we won’t be talkin’ so friendly, yeah?”
Mm. Yeah.
“You owe me four grand,” Luke informed Fifteen as the glock went down and Fifteen left him to go take a pulse.
The man’s back stiffened.
“Four?” he asked. “You took this job for four?”
Luke rolled his eyes.
“I got bills, Armando,” he drawled.
“How do you keep that shed open? Have you sold even one book?”
Rude. Luke was a great sales associate. If he actually cared to put his mind to it, he’d be worthy of a promotion to manager.
He pulled the rising legs of his shorts down and adjusted the weapon in his windbreaker. He couldn’t leave the alley the way he’d gone into it. Someone might have seen. He was going to have to take a side street. Hmmm, which one? Choices, choices.
“I’ll give you a Dad’s discount. Gimme two grand, and you can have him,” Luke negotiated as he thought.
“Two.”
Hey, no need for that tone. This was a great deal.
“What’re you gonna do with two?” Fifteen asked, already knelling down to heft the body over his shoulder as proof for payment.
“Buy some more tights,” Luke deadpanned. “Two, final offer.”
Fifteen stood up all the way and gave him a weird look. A long look. His beanie was pulled down low, but Luke got the impression that he was frowning at him.
“Take the four,” he said out of nowhere. “I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
Luke recoiled a step at first, then recoiled another when the reality of the situation hit him full in the chest.
“Forget it,” he snapped.
He spun around and started to leave.
“Wh—hey. HEY. Where are you goin’?”
“I don’t need your fuckin’ pity,” Luke called ahead of him as he set to climbing the chainlink fence separating him from the adjacent dead-end alley.
“You what?”
“You heard me,” Luke said.
He jumped down. His left hand found his right wrist and squeezed as he walked.
 -------
 The phantom pains kept him up all night, and it was definitely that and not the humiliation that made him call in sick. Han told him to answer his therapist’s emails. Luke told him to go do something useful and hung up. He rolled onto his back on his bed and focused on letting his body relax, his jaw unclench, his joints go limp.
There was sunlight finally streaming through his apartment windows again. It had been months.
Spring was almost here. He just had to hold out a little longer.
 --------
 He came in to work the next day and found an envelope on his chair in the backroom. It was thick.
“McFlorist dropped it off,” he said between aggravated sounds at his spreadsheets.
“Is it tax season already?” Luke asked him as he tried to burn a whole in the center of the envelope with his mind.
“Sure fuckin’ is.”
He stepped forward and snatched up the envelope, then deposited it squarely in Han’s lap. He made an unattractive noise of confusion and alarm.
“For the taxes,” Luke called as he went out to grab his lanyard and name tag. “Gotta keep this place open for another six months at least.”
 ------------
 There were new books in. A new shipment to shelve. Two kids’ displays to set up. And Luke was actually good at this stuff, thanks; he started stacking.
He got peace until he nearly got to the end of the second display, and then what he had was a heart attack. Two liquid brown eyes surrounded by an ocean of ringlets stared up at him from between his knees. The child curled a hand in and out in hello.
Luke jerked himself up to locate the thing’s parents immediately, and promptly found himself in deadly eye-contact with Fifteen.
Armando.
“You were gone yesterday,” Fifteen said flatly.
Luke looked between him and the kid. He was pinned between two enemy parties. How to escape, how to escape.
“Are you sick?”
How to escape. How to escape. How to escape.
“Are you hurt?”
H—what?
“I’m fine, stalker,” Luke snapped with more heat than this present cover allowed. He caught himself and pulled it back. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “Thank you for asking. Is this…?”
Fifteen blinked once. The child blinked once as well. It was creepy.
“He’s mine,” Fifteen said. “And apparently the only thing that will get us through the next two hours is a book.”
Dude.
“Kids are kids,” Fifteen said. “You got any books?”
Luke stared at him, then checked the shelves to make sure he hadn’t teleported into another dimension.
You always had to check.
“We’re in a bookstore,” he said.
“He can’t read,” Fifteen said, pointing.
The kid grinned. His teeth were gapped in that toddler sort of way. He was kind of cute.
“You can’t read?” Luke asked him.
“Hi,” Baby said.
Oh no.
Luke loved him.
“How much?” he asked Fifteen.
“Touch him and you’ll be permanently comatose,” Fifteen said.
“Not if I died out of spite,” Luke said.
There was a long pause. Then Fifteen started laughing? Kind of hard?
“Oh my god, that was so unprofessional. I am so sorry,” Luke blurted out.
Fifteen collected himself and shook his head. His little one giggled and reached for Luke’s fingers.
“Boo,” he said.
Luke couldn’t feel the hand, but he could feel all the heart.
“Book?” he asked, crouching down. “Do you want a story?”
“Mmmm.”
“I have the perfect one,” Luke told him. “It’s about a caterpillar. Do you know what a caterpillar is?”
He got a slow, exaggerated head shake back and forth, back and forth. He stood up straight.
“I’m conducting a temporary kidnapping,” he informed Fifteen. “Do I have consent?”
Fifteen looked from him towards the front entrance and mulled over the merits of leaving his kid with his rival assassin. Then he shrugged.
“Consent granted,” he said. “Luke.”
Luke’s heart stopped.
“James,” he said.
“Your name tag says ‘Luke.’”
Well, fuck.
“Luke Nayberry. It suits you.”
Hhhhhhh. This was karma, wasn’t it.
“Thanks,” he gritted out. “And yourself, Armando?”
“Din.”
Woah, look out. Mr. One-Syllable-Cool-Man had entered the building.
“Din, what?” Luke asked as his arm registered tension. Din’s kid had latched onto his fingers and started pulling incessantly with a chubby hand gesturing in the direction of the wall of children’s books.
“Don’t you worry about it,” Din said.
“Fine, go trip then,” Luke said.
He swore that there was a smile under that mask.
 ----------
123 notes · View notes
tokisguitarpick · 3 years
Text
balcony
characters: Pickles the Drummer x Reader
length: 1700+ words
listen this is really self indulgent but pickles’ back story hits me on a personal level. tried to phrase the mom self in a way that even someone with a good mom could see themselves in the reader but s/o to bitches who’s moms stress them out, we see you
You sighed, holding your own hand and staring up at the night sky, sat on top of Mordhaus. About three months into your employment, you had found the perfect place for lunch breaks, sneaking out with a joint mid-shift, anything. Up the emergency ladder, around the smokestacks, and over a large generator, there was a tiny balcony that no one seemed to know about and it was one of your favorite spots on the whole ship. And tonight, you needed it for the clarity it gave you. 
Nails bitten to the quick, you had spent a couple of hours pacing in your bedroom before making your way up here to sit in the peace and quiet and really just be alone.
“Doode, what ahre you doin’ up ‘ere?” Your eyes closed. Of course.
It’s not that you would normally mind Pickles for company. In fact, quite the opposite. Something about the drummer drew you to him and between his chill demeanor and frequent offers of hits off his joint, he was typically your favorite band member. But tonight, any company felt like more energy than you had to spend.
But it was your job to spend energy entertaining, safeguarding, and checking on Dethklok so you fixed your face into a neutral expression and replied, “I like to come up here when I need some fresh air.” 
Pickles swung himself over the generator with ease and plopped down next to you, both of you sticking your legs through the wide gaps under the balcony fencing and letting them hang down. “Oh yeah, me tooh.” As usual, the drummer brought with him the stale scent of alcohol and sweat, as well as the very pungent smell of fresh weed. “You know me, I like to be high.” Pickles chuckled at his own joke as you watched him pull a silver cigarette case from his back pocket but his laughter died on his lips when he met your gaze. “Sam’thin’ wrong?”
Your head tilted as you looked over yourself in your mind’s eye. “What do you mean?”
Slowly, Pickles raised a calloused thumb to your cheek and you felt him wipe away some wetness. Fuck. You hadn’t cried much and the cool night air had dried most of the tears as Mordhaus chugged forward but apparently, there was enough evidence left for him to find. 
“Yah knoow,” Pickles started, his eyes trained on his hand instead of meeting your own, “I’m naht really one for… talkin’ about feelin’s and shit. But ah, uh, I can listen?” His eyes were a deep, comforting shade of green, something you noticed when they finally met yours, his pierced eyebrows raising as he ended with a question. 
Your heart softened and you smiled softly, prompting a lopsided smirk from the drummer as he finally dropped his hand. He fiddled with the cigarette case in his lap until he produced a blunt and held it out for you. “So whaht’s goin’ on?”
Taking the blunt from him and then the offered lighter- a zippo with a dill pickle carved on the side-, you lit up and took a long drag before passing both back to him. The paper crackled next to you with his inhale and you stared at the sky again, breathing your hit out like a cloud in front of you. 
“My mom called.” No longer a happy notification to receive, the information turned your stomach. Ever since you had gone against her wishes and applied for the stressful, dangerous, terrifying job of being a managerial coordinator for the band Dethklok, she had turned into someone you could hardly recognize. Cold, petty, always passively asking for money and aggressively telling you how little you must care about her since you were always too busy to call her when she was free (not when you were, though. She was a busy woman and she couldn’t wait around all day just for a call). You assumed she was angry you hadn’t listened to her and was even angier that you didn’t volunteer those, frankly, sweet as hell Dethklok paychecks to appease her.
You glanced out of the corner of your eye to see Pickles make a sour face, his cheeks puffed with weed smoke. Releasing his hit with a cough, he passed the blunt and nodded. “I know that feelin’. When my mam’ calls, I send it straight tah’ voicemail.”
“Maybe I need to start doing that,” you mused quietly. Puff and pass, you moved your gaze down to watch the traffic passing on the various highways around the house.
“That bad?” Pickles asked, holding onto the blunt for a minute as he tried to fix a run in the burn. You didn’t mind, your high creeping up and the wad of anxiety in your stomach loosening. 
Turning your answer over in your mind a few times, you finally spoke when you realized you had been quiet for an embarrassingly long time. “She’s just different now. I feel like she’s not the same person I knew growing up and the person she is now… I don’t know if it’s a person I like.” You had wondered a few times if she was destined to become this woman but when memories resurfaced, you felt as though your current feelings tainted them and you weren’t sure what the truth was. “I just- I don’t know. Do you ever feel like your family would like you so much more if you just shut up and gave them all your spare cash?” 
This time, Pickles was the one who was silent for what seemed like a long time and when you finally looked up, you were surprised to see he had completely disassembled the blunt and was rolling a joint with the leftover weed on one side of the open cigarette case. It was balanced carefully on his thigh- full of a few dime bags of ground weed and spare rolling papers- but his face was angled towards you. “Uh, yeah. That’s all I feel when it comes to my family.” Bringing the joint up to his lips, he gave you a curious look, furrowing his brow. “Cahn I ask you sam’thin’?”
You nodded.
“Is yuhr mam’ hasslin’ you for money?” Lighting up with a couple of puffs, he passed the joint to you and leaned back on his palms.
That was the long and short of it from as far as you could tell, you mused. You took a deep hit, studying Pickles as you nodded again. Your high was hitting you and suddenly, the terse phone call that had been weighing on you seemed much less important than the physique of the drummer next to you. Long, deep red dreads flowed in the light evening breeze, drawing your eyes down his neck and shoulders. Almost always in a dark tank top, his muscular shoulders and arms stole the show, lithe and wirey from years of being a professional musician. God, he was hot. Sure, he was more than a little older than you, and balding just a little, and maybe unable to be sober for longer than a half hour without complaining. But otherwise, very hot. Your gaze fell to his hands, fingers with blunt nails spread to support himself, and the backs of his palms flexed with large veins.
You were only moments away from poking one when his voice broke your concentration. “Like whaht yah see?” Looking back to his face, Pickles’ smirk was now a full blown grin and he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.”
“Sorry,” you chuckled, the heat of a blush finding your cheeks as you puffed and passed the joint, “I’m kinda stoned. Your weed is always so fucking strong.” 
Pickles broke out into nasally laughter and you couldn’t help giggling yourself in response. “That’s why I get it, only the good shit,” he replied, still chuckling. He puffed then snuffed the joint and tucked it behind his ear for safekeeping as he sat up.
Unable to get a handle on the stoned laughter coming out of you, your giggle fit continued and you leaned over, resting your forehead on his shoulder. You put a hand over your mouth as you tried to relax. Pickles shifted under you, letting your head find his collarbone as he wrapped his arm around your waist. He seemed to freeze like that and if you had been sober, you probably would’ve stayed that way, savoring the feeling of closeness with your celebrity crush in such a private moment. There were over a million Dethklok fans who would kill or die for this to happen to them.
But you were high as fuck and didn’t like how stiff the embrace felt. You shifted yourself to lean more comfortably against him without realizing it, until his hand started to fall from your side. Instantly, you grasped his wrist and brought it back to your hip, murmuring, “You’re good.” 
Pickles laughed again, squeezing you and resting his hand on your ribcage. He was so warm, you could feel his palmprint burning through the thin cotton of your sleepshirt, so close under your breast that it made you shiver. “Oh, honey, I could get you tah’ say that a hundred different ways,” he stated confidently. It made your blush burn even hotter, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Pickles, however, cleared his throat and muttered, “Uh, not like in a sexuhal’ harassment type way, just, uh, yah know… If you were down…”
You giggled again and nodded. “I got you, I got you… I’m down.” You erupted into nervous giggles and covered your face with your hand again. Unable to believe your own gall, you were about to dismiss your words with a quick ‘I’m joking’ but Pickles moved faster, goosing your breast with a bark of laughter.
“I’ll keep thaht in mind,” he said, seemingly to himself, his hand resting once again on your torso. You couldn’t say anything, your body alight with tingles radiating from your breast and your mind slowed, so you simply nodded against him. 
Quiet for a moment, you tried to settle your breathing while Pickles relit the joint and puffed in thought. Finally speaking up, he just said, “Seriously though, Y/N, I think you need to tell your mom to go fuck herself.”
100 notes · View notes
nsfwflint · 3 years
Text
Office Politics: Team Dinner
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After two months, I return! Finally finished a new piece and chapter 3 of Office Politics. Sorry that it took so long guys. But hey, I’m sort of on schedule with there being three months between each chapter LOL. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you all for being patient and waiting for me. <3
Read on AFF
“Hi there. Welcome to the acting department. I’m Han Bo Reum and I’ll be in charge of your training. I look forward to getting to know you.”
 As soon as the words leave them, Bo Reum’s plump lips turn into a welcoming smile. You haven’t even stepped off the elevator and the team leader is greeting you personally. Entranced by everything about her, you can’t stop your eyes from wandering up and down her body. The way her outfit flaunts her curves amazes you. Your eyes slowly devour every inch of her body, stopping to marvel at her sizable chest. Continuing the journey, the next thing you end up staring at is her full lips. Finally, you end up meeting her warm friendly eyes and blush slightly. If Bo Reum feels anything about you admiring her body, she doesn’t show it. She turns around and starts walking towards the bullpen.
 “This way. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.” Bo Reum says as you trail behind her.
 Following her into the office space, you’re pleasantly surprised at the difference in atmosphere. While the idol division had separated cubicles, the acting division has all the desks pushed together without any walls between them. As soon as you see the other team member, you have no idea how you’re going to be able to stop looking at them long enough to get any work done. They see you approaching with Bo Reum and stand to greet you.
 “This is the new rookie who is being transferred here temporarily for training,” Bo Reum gestures to you vaguely. “Make sure to get along. I’ve got to join a call with some higher-ups, so I’ll let you introduce yourselves.”
 As if something is just now dawning on her, she looks around the office.
“Chae Soo Bin, why are you the only one here right now?” Bo Reum frowns.
“Sun Young and Sung Hee are out of the office today. You said you wanted them to do some sort of client meeting, remember?” Soo Bin replies.
“Oh. Right. I forgot that was today. Well I guess it’s up to you to start training the rookie.” 
Bo Reum quickly walks back towards her office, and you watch her pick up her phone as she sits down. Turning back to your new coworker, you attempt to stifle a quiet sigh; desperately trying not to show how overwhelmed you are by her beauty. You shift uncomfortably as Chae Soo Bin looks you up and down, silently evaluating your worth. Suddenly, she gives you a beaming smile so warm it could melt the ice caps. Your face grows hot as you attempt to smile back, although you’re not sure if your face is able to move properly. 
“You’ll fit right in here! Glad to meet you!” Soo Bin says cheerily. 
“You as well,” You bow politely. “So who else is normally here?”
“Well we normally have Ko Sung Hee here at this desk.” 
Soo Bin points towards a desk covered with various notepads and sticky notes, seemingly having a note for everything she does. Looking to the desk next to it, you chuckle at the puppy shaped trash can sitting underneath a much more organized table. A notepad, calendar, and pencil cup surround an open space where you assume a laptop would normally be.
“Who sits there?” 
“Ah, that’s Sun Young’s desk. She went by Abel Ryu for a while, but she’s gone back to her birth name since retiring. So now she’s Ryu Sun Young again.”’
“Abel Ryu works here?” You blurt out, noticing the excitement in your voice just a little too late.
“Oh ho. Guess I’ll need to tell her that she has a fan.” Soo Bin teases.
You feel your face growing hot again as she giggles at you.
“This one is yours, so make yourself at home. Let’s get right into things.” She says as she points towards the one empty table.
Giggling as she sits at her desk, you notice that Soo Bin’s desk looks exactly as cheery as you expected it to. Bright pink and yellow papers and folders cover her desk. A small yellow flower sits on the corner. She begins to walk you through some of the basic duties of the department. It’s not too long before she leaves you to your own devices and gets into her own work. Every once in a while you see her look at the flower and smile. As you wonder if it’s from a lover, you quickly look down at your laptop when you see Soo Bin noticing you staring.
 Most of the day flies by as you quickly find yourself swamped in work. Finally, you’re able to take a quick rest for your lunch break. As you scoot your seat out and get ready to leave, Bo Reum emerges from her office for the first time since she left you to meet Soo Bin..
 “All right guys, don’t forget. In order to properly welcome the rookie, we’ll be having a team dinner at my place tonight. Make sure you all show up. I just texted you the address, rookie.” Bo Reum says before heading back into her office.
 Confused by what just happened, you check your phone. Sure enough, there’s a text message with an address sitting in your inbox.
 “Is it just me, or is it weird that Team Leader Han wants to have a team dinner at her apartment?” You ask, warily looking up from the text message.
 “Not particularly. We all go over to her apartment all the time. Despite being our boss, we’re pretty close friends. Bo Reum loves to host, so she invites us over all the time.” Soo Bin responds absentmindedly as she continues typing up her report.
 “I see. Well, I’m going to get lunch. Be back in a bit.” You say, trying to distract yourself from the weirdness of it all.
 “Pick me up some Subway on your way back.” Soo Bin calls out as you round the corner to the elevator.
 Hours later, you find yourself ringing the doorbell to your new Team Leader’s apartment. Millions of thoughts are racing through your mind. You weren’t sure of the dress code, so you’re dressed in your usual jeans and t-shirt, with a fleece zip-up that remains unzipped. A nervous knot builds in your stomach as you think of all the ways this could go horribly wrong. Thankfully before you manage to get too far down that particular rabbit hole, the apartment door swings open. Han Bo Reum stands there and greets you with a bright smile. You glance down at her oversized tan sweater to see the words “Feel The Wind Ride Me” and wonder if she stole that from her drama set or ordered one herself. Between her sweater being so big and her shorts being too small, it looks like she isn’t wearing any pants. With an anxious gulp, you struggle to force yourself to not stare at her shapely legs.
 “Welcome! Hope it wasn’t too hard to find. Come on in!” Bo Reum pulls you inside.
 “Nah, it wasn’t bad at all. I don’t live too far away actually,” You reply, looking around inside as you kick off your shoes. “Where is everyone else?”
 “Oh really? That’s good to know. And nobody else is here yet. You’re a little early so we’ve got some time to kill.”
 “Oh, I’m sorry. I tend to be early a lot since I’m nervous about being late.”
 “That’s fine. It’s a good habit honestly.”
 “What should we do until then?” You ask.
 “I have an idea. I hope you’re ready to sweat.” Bo Reum smiles.
 After a few hours, beads of sweat drip down your forehead as your breathing grows ragged. You find yourself quickly reaching your limit. A passionate fire burns inside you, knowing that the end is here and yours for the taking. With an intense look in your eyes, you prepare to finish; trying to exert even more of your strength.
 “And this, is to go, even further beyond!” You yell before releasing a loud grunt.
 “You lose again,” Bo Reum laughs as she dangles a controller off her wrist. “How are you so bad at Wii tennis? And what’s up with the yelling?”
 “Cut me some slack, I never played on a Wii. And I don’t know, it just makes it more fun.” You sigh as you slip your hand out of the wrist strap.
 Bo Reum giggles some more as you both collapse on the couch. Turning towards her, you end up staring deeply into her eyes. After a few seconds, you realize how dangerous it is and look away.
 “So, when is everyone else going to get here? It’s starting to get kind of late.” You say as you nervously clear your throat.
 “Oh, they’re not.”
 “What do you mean?”
 “I told them all I was sick, so nobody is coming.”  She says, slowly scooting closer to you.
 “Wh-why would you do that?” You swallow anxiously.
 “Because, I wanted some time alone with you. We’re not all like Seungyeon and want to constantly fuck in the office.”
 Blinking in confusion, you begin to wonder how many people knew about the work hour escapades. You guess you weren’t being as discreet as you thought. Before you open your mouth, Bo Reum slowly takes off her sweater; revealing her giant breasts snuggled tightly into a black bra.
 “Besides, I know you want some alone time too. You’ve been staring at these all day.” Bo Reum says, her honey-like voice suddenly dripping with seduction.
 “Can you blame me? They’re really, really nice.” You gulp as you feel your pants slowly start to get tighter.
 “And they can be all yours if you want them,” Bo Reum gently places her hand on your thigh, slowly inching it closer and closer to your dick. “Do you want them? Do you want me?”
 “I really do.” You nod, your cock now fully erect and throbbing in your jeans.
 “Good. I’m happy to hear that.”
 Bo Reum leans in and pushes her lips against yours. Plump and sweet, it doesn’t take any time before you’re sucking and nibbling on her lips, sneaking your tongue in every once in a while. Muffled moans escape both your mouths as you fall deeper and deeper into the kiss. Turning fully towards her, she quickly presses against your chest. You wrap your arms around her slender body. The sensation of her sizable breasts pushing against you builds your lust for her body even more. Both of your tongues swirl around rapidly and aggressively. More moans begin to fill the room as your tongues continue to massage each other. You don’t know how much time has passed as you continue to savor the taste of her delicious lips. Your cock throbs crazily in your pants as you finally pull away from the intense kiss.
 “I want you to fuck me with your tits.” You pant heavily.
 Giving you one last quick kiss, Bo Reum slowly slips down onto the floor. Kneeling between your knees, she gives you an alluring smile and reaches behind her back with one hand. She teasingly unclasps her bra, the black straps slowly sliding down her slender arms. Apparently deciding to tease you, she stops taking her bra off and instead pulls down your pants. Determined to torture you, she takes her sweet time pulling down your boxers as well. After a few eternal seconds, she rips down your boxers and your erect cock springs out.
Biting her lip, Bo Reum relishes your facial expressions as she teases you. Finally, the large cupped bra releases from her skin and her heavenly breasts now fully bare for you to see. With a playful smile she tosses the bra across the room. You lick your lips at the sight of her giant tits as she slowly wraps them around your cock. Her stiff nipples beg for you to tease them, but what catches your eye is a small beauty mark near her right nipple.
“I didn’t know you had a beauty mark.” You say, moaning softly as she squeezes her breasts tighter around your shaft.
 “The things we could do with what you don’t know about me. But don’t worry, that won’t be for too much longer. By the end of the night, we’ll have learned so much about each other.” Bo Reum says with a seductive wink.
 “God, I want to learn everything about you right now.” You groan.
With another smile, Bo Reum starts stroking her breasts up and down your shaft. The soft pressure of being between her tits quickly fills you with pleasure. You drink in the sight before you, a fantasy you’ve played in your head so many times finally come to fruition. The sensation of your dick buried in her heavenly flesh, your tip peeking out of her deep cleavage. Her silken skin clings to your cock as she sandwiches your cock even tighter between her chest. As much as you want to keep your eyes burned onto this scene, the pleasure proves to be too much and you lean your head backwards in ecstasy. A plethora of moans escape your lips as she picks up the pace, furiously jerking you off with her immaculate breasts. 
“Fuck. Fuck, you’re so good baby.” You grunt.
“You haven’t seen anything yet hun.” Bo Reum smirks before leaning down.
Without even half a second to wonder what she’s doing, Bo Reum takes your tip into her mouth. Whatever pleasure you felt before is nothing compared to the incredible feeling you’re experiencing as she rapidly swirls her tongue around your tip. You can’t even begin to describe the noises of lust you’re making anymore. Her soft tongue rubs and massages your dick, masterfully flowing against the curves and crevices of your tip. Warm saliva slickens your cock as she continues to stroke you with her breasts.
“God, this is fucking amazing. You’re so fucking incredible.” You groan.
You feel Bo Reum’s lips smile against your shaft. Her big eyes look up at you as she slurps on your tip. Suddenly, she starts to suck your dick with an intensity you’ve never experienced. Her head rapidly bobs up and down on your cock, the warmth of her mouth constricting you. The weight of her breasts against your dick increases as she squeezes them even closer together. As she continues to suck on your dick, her soft tongue circles around your tip. Moans make their way out of you, the pleasure so intense you struggle to keep your eyes open.
Her breasts continue to rapidly rub up and down your shaft, the friction of her soft skin tugging on your dick. Bo Reum continues to alternate between pooling her saliva around your cock and sucking it dry every few minutes. The tightness of her cheeks eagerly constricts your tip as they vibrate every time she sucks. Her soft lips freely glide up and down your cock. It doesn’t take long before the extraordinary pleasure betrays you. Your cock throbs violently and you both know you’re almost there.
“Fuck. I’m going to cum, Bo Reum.”
Bo Reum looks up at you again with an expression that seems to say “let it all out.” The soft valley of her breasts pressures your shaft while her tongue swirls and slurps your tip. Suddenly you reach down, pushing her head onto your cock. Without any conscious control over your own body, you start thrusting upwards. Your tip slams into the back of her throat as the wet chasm of her mouth drowns you in ecstasy. The heavenly weight of her tits against your dick is even more exhilarating, her skin briskly rubbing against you. Her tender lips sliding up and down your cock, quickly driving you to the edge.
After a few more thrusts, your dick throbs inside her mouth again. Your tip swelling with cum, you manage to muster one final slam before reaching your limit. You time your last thrust carefully; pushing as deep into her mouth as you can as a thick blast of semen erupts from your cock. Bo Reum swallows as your cum continues to pour into the back of her throat. The friction of her cheeks swallowing against your tip only heightens your pleasure. As one last rope of semen shoots into her mouth, you finally remove your hands from head.  Lifting her head off your cock, she gives you a lustful smile as she swallows the last bit of your load. 
“Sorry about being sort of rough. It felt so good that I just couldn’t control myself.” You pant.
“It’s fine, I like it a little rough. Hope that isn’t all you got though.” Bo Reum winks.
As she stands back up and straddles your lap, her pussy rubs against your dick and you realize for the first time tonight that she actually isn’t wearing any shorts.
“Have you not had pants on all night?” You ask, surprised.
“I guess I should call you a gentleman for not looking enough to notice.”
“Well you won’t be calling me a gentleman for long with what I want to do to you.”
“I would hope so. You’re not here for romance after all, you’re here to fuck my brains out and fill me with cum.”
Bo Reum’s brutal honesty arouses you, your cock fully erect again and throbbing against the lips of her pussy. The sensation of your dick twitching against her lips apparently excites her as much as it excites you, as her fluids leak onto your shaft. She slowly grinds against your cock. After a few seconds, Bo Reum licks her lips and sits up, hovering over your erect dick. Without any warning, she mounts you; immediately slamming herself onto your cock. A mixture of loud moans fills the apartment as your tip pushes into her depths. You quickly find yourself wondering what’s with the women at this office, why does nobody ever want to let you take time to adjust to them?
“Holy shit you’re so tight, Bo Reum.” You groan.
“We’re just getting started, big boy.” Bo Reum says with a flirty wink.
Not wasting any time, she starts grinding on your dick. You can’t stop the countless moans from leaving your mouth and Bo Reum sees it as an opening; immediately leaning over and darting her tongue into your mouth. Her tongue gleefully rubs and massages yours as the warmth of her cunt pressures your shaft. Enjoying the sweet taste of her lips against yours again, you start to lose yourself in the experience that is Han Bo Reum. Your hands travel down and squeeze her soft ass roughly. Her flesh ripples against your fingertips as she continues to grind on you. After a few minutes, she places her hands on your chest and pushes; separating from the kiss as a strand of saliva breaks between you. Straightening her back, she starts rapidly bouncing on your cock.
Your brain freezes temporarily, struggling to decide if you want to watch her breasts bounce wildly as you already are or worship them with your hands. Thankfully you don’t have to waste time thinking; because in the split second of hesitation, Bo Reum grabs your hands and pushes them onto her chest. No longer wasting any time, you aggressively knead her breasts in your hands. Worship ends up being the correct word you’d use after all. You quickly find yourself addicted to the sensation of her bountiful breasts in your palms. The soft elasticity of her tits practically melts in your hands, her silken flesh pouring through your fingers with every rough squeeze. As you continue caressing her chest, she grabs your shoulders tightly.
“Yes, squeeze them just like that baby. Love my breasts just like you’ve always wanted.” Bo Reum screams, lustfully squeezing your dick.
It doesn’t take long for you to realize how perfect of a sexual partner Bo Reum is for you. The more you fondle and massage her breasts, the tighter she gets. The heat of her soft walls intensifies as you begin to pinch her nipples as well. Soon, her quiet groans become full screams of pleasure. She bounces aggressively on your dick, her creamy thighs slapping against your own. Her soft ass ripples against you as you start to meet her halfway; thrusting upwards. Into her. You quickly grow drunk on the sensation of her pillowy breasts heaving and jiggling in your palms. Bo Reum slowly slides her hands behind your neck and stares into your eyes.
“Go on, taste them. I know you want to.” She moans
You lean in and quickly attach your lips to her left breast. As you lick and slurp on her nipple, Bo Reum clenches her cunt again. She squeezes your collarbone, digging her nails into you so hard that she draws blood. Powering through the pain, the only thing you focus on is the delicious taste of her tits as you suck on her stiff nipples. The sweet flavor of her nipples flows into your mouth as your tongue thoroughly soaks her breasts with your saliva. Furiously riding you, her velvety pussy clings greedily to your cock. Your tip slams against her depths as she continues to bounce on your dick. Her creamy legs rippling against yours, you take her nipple between your teeth and start lightly nibbling on them. 
“Fuck baby. Just like that.” Bo Reum screams.
Your teeth nibble slightly harder onto her nipple as your tongue rubs against the small part it can. Bo Reum’s moans grow increasingly louder. Her hands move up to the back of your head, grabbing your hair as she pushes you into her breast. You quickly move your other hand down to her nipple, pinching it with your fingers as you continue to squeeze her tits. Pulling on her nipples with both your fingers and your teeth,you feel her silky cavern constrict again. Although she’s still riding you with an intense speed, you can feel her pace slowly start to drop. With how sensitive her breasts are, you realize that she must be nearing her own orgasm. 
Suddenly feeling aggressive, you go into overdrive with your attack on her breasts. Your fingertips sink into her soft flesh, the sizable weight of her tits heaving in your hands. As you continue to fondle her breasts, your tongue rapidly swirls against her stiff nipple. Pinching the other nipple with your free hand, you harshly suck on her tits; pushing and pulling them as her hot walls consume your cock. With one final slam, Bo Reum’s intense riding comes to a halting stop. 
Her body twitches, shuddering violently as you feel an unfamiliar sensation. As Bo Reum’s body continues to tremble, an immense amount of fluids gushes out of her pussy. Sticky juices flood past your cock, drenching your shaft before pouring onto your thighs. Releasing her breasts from your mouth with an audible pop, you look down in shock; completely astonished that Bo Reum just squirted all over you. Your thighs are now soaked with her sticky fluids. Bo Reum gives you a shaky smile as you meet her eyes. 
“I didn’t realize you were a squirter.” You admit.
“What, like I should have a neon sign that says “I squirt from breast play” flashing on my forehead?” Bo Reum laughs. 
“That’s a fair point.” You blush from your stupid statement.
Wrapping her arms around your neck, she leans in and presses her lips against yours. Your dick throbs in her pussy and you quickly find a new determination in you. 
“Well since you just had your orgasm, now it’s my turn.”
Bo Reum squeals in surprise as you stand up with your cock still inside her. You grip the underside of her thighs, your palms pushing against her milky thighs. Having never done this before, you briefly wonder if you should do a different position than you had in mind. But as if reading your mind, Bo Reum quickly locks her legs around your waist and starts grinding on your cock again. Her velvety cunt grips your shaft as she squirms against you. You start thrusting upwards while she clenches her pussy around your dick. 
After a few thrusts, it’s clear that you’re not able to get as deep as you’d like. Settling into a shallow squat and thrusting up, Bo Reum’s moans quickly tell you that this is a better position. Driving into her from below, you sink your hands into the silky skin of her delicious thighs. Bo Reum stares into your eyes as you both indulge in your every lust for each other. She presses her body against yours, getting close enough to slip her tongue into your mouth again. 
“Don’t stop. I’m begging you, please don’t stop.” She whimpers, her voice muffled from the kiss.
Your tongues sloppily swirl around each other, entwining with your need for each other. Her giant breasts heave and ripple against your chest as you continue to ram into her cunt from below. With every thrust, your cock craves the velvety heat of her pussy more and more. Moans vibrate your tongue as you continue to rub and massage Bo Reum’s tongue with your own. As you aggressively thrust into her, you feel your knees start to strain from this position. You pull away from the kiss, immediately missing the warmth of her tongue inside your mouth and the softness of her lips. Desperately craving the lustful high you’re both acquiring from each other, you quickly change positions.
You lay Bo Reum down so she’s resting on the back of her shoulders while the rest of her body sticks straight in the air with your dick still inside her. Not letting either of you rest, you thrust mercilessly into her cunt; almost piledriving your cock into her. Staring into her eyes, you feel a different kind of satisfaction than earlier. While you loved sucking and playing with Bo Reum’s tits, it was very clear that she was the one in control. But now as you slam into her from above, you’re the one in control of things. 
“Oh my god. Fuck me just like this. Don’t stop fucking me like this.” Bo Reum moans at the top of her lungs, her voice bouncing off the walls of her apartment.
Moans escape from both of you, mingling in the air to form an erotic harmony as they join the sounds of your dick slamming against Bo Reum’s pussy. Her tight walls hungrily tug on your cock. The velvety heat clings to your shaft, her depths eagerly accommodating your throbbing dick. Your tip slams into her depths, her pussy completely at your mercy as you piston inside her. With every thrust, her giant tits ripple and bounce wildly. 
“Bo Reum. Bo Reum.” 
Not able to focus on anything besides the mounting ecstasy from her hot cunt, the only thing you manage to moan is her name over and over. Bo Reum’s lustful screams fill your ears and you briefly wonder if her neighbors can hear anything. Any idle thoughts you have are quickly pushed away as her velvety walls clamp around your dick again. You burn this image to your brain so you’ll never forget it. One of your biggest fantasies is unfolding right in front of you as you stare at her breasts bouncing and heaving in an almost hypnotic rhythm. The sensation of her entire body rippling against yours becomes too overwhelming to bear.
As you begin to approach the end, something about this position is speaking to you on a primal level and you realize why. In this position, you’ll be able to release everything inside of Bo Reum as deep as you can. The realization triggers something in you, a hunger you didn’t know you had. Her ass ripples against your thighs as you aggressively thrust into her. Even more of her heavenly moans flow into your ears. The sight of her amazing figure jiggling and bouncing as you pound away at her cunt is the nail in the coffin.
“I’m going to cum inside you.” You grunt.
There is no asking for permission, or seeing if she was okay with it. It’s a declaration. And the look in her eyes screams that she wants it just as bad as you do. 
“Yes.” She moans.
One word is the only response Bo Reum can muster. You ram your dick into her as deep as you can, your thrusts becoming wild and almost violent. Pounding away at her depths, her soft cunt clamps around your shaft; the heat of her walls enveloping your dick. Her receptive womb eagerly awaits the load about to emerge from your tip. With one final slam, a primal grunt leaves your throat as your tip twitches into the deepest parts of her cunt. Your cock erupts and a torrent of cum floods Bo Reum’s pussy. Her body trembles against yours as your semen surges into her. One last spurt shoots out of you as both of your orgasms reach a silent finality. After one of the most intense orgasms of your life, you stay inside her; your cock remaining in her soft embrace as your cum pours down into her depths.
Pulling your dick out of her, you collapse; sitting onto the floor in front of her. Sitting up, Bo Reum looks into your eyes. Her chest rises and falls heavily as she attempts to regain her breathing.
“Are you still okay?” You ask.
Despite the two of you being completely out of breath and panting, Bo Reum nods.
“Good. Because we’re not done yet.”
Bo Reum gives you a smile as the two of you slowly stand up. With no other words said, you both quickly race to her bedroom.
Several hours and multiple orgasms later, the two of you are stretched across opposite sides of Bo Reum’s bed. Her thin white sheets are strewn about and now stained with sweat and cum. You’ve never been more exhausted in your life as you struggle to catch your breath. Bo Reum moves over and lays next to you. She gives you a satisfied smile as she stares into your eyes.
“So. How long have you wanted to fill me like that for?” She asks.
You hesitate for a second before answering.
“Honestly?” 
“Honestly.” Bo Reum nods.
“A long time.”
“And was it as good as you thought it would be?”
“Even better.” You chuckle.
“Good. I’m glad you liked it.”
With another smile, Bo Reum leans in and gives you a gentle kiss. Her soft lips against yours are the last thing you remember before you pass out from exhaustion.
Bright sunlight streams through a nearby window as you groggily open your eyes. As you try to get up, a heavy weight pulls on your arm. You look down to see Bo Reum cuddled up next to you, tightly hugging your arm. The two of you still naked from the night before, a smile creeps across your face knowing that it wasn’t just a dream. Glancing over to the clock, you notice the time and panic quietly. While you’re not technically late for work, you wanted to be there early to get work done and give a good impression to the rest of the team members. You gently remove your arm from Bo Reum’s grasp and quickly get dressed. Trying not to wake her, you leave quickly; shutting the apartment door behind you as softly as you can.
After running home for a quick shower and change of clothes, you step into the elevator. Smiling to yourself about the events of last night, you’re thankful nobody else is in the elevator to wonder how weird you are. With a soft ding, the elevator door slides open and you step through the office with a fresh determination to get work done. Despite being earlier than you’re supposed to be, you realize that more people are already in the office than you thought there would be. As you round the corner, you’re surprised to notice that only one person is in the office besides you. Approaching the collection of desks, you quickly realize that it’s one of the team members that was out of the office yesterday. You bow politely as you set your backpack down at your new desk.
“You must be the new guy. I’m Ryu Sun Young.” She says, looking up from her keyboard.
“Ah, You’re Abel Ryu. I mean Ryu Sun Young now, sorry. I’m the rookie, here for temporary training.”
“Good to meet you, rookie. Don’t worry about it, I know it takes some time to get used to it.” She smiles.
“Um, excuse me? Is Team Leader Han in yet?” A voice asks behind you.
Turning to see who it is, you’re greeted by the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes on. Staring at her incredible figure and gorgeous face, you forget how to breathe for a few seconds. 
“Uhhhh.” Is the only sound you’re able to get out of your mouth.
Sun Young tries to hide her laughter and you feel your face go red.
“Sorry, this is the rookie. Team Leader Han isn’t here yet, what do you need?” Sun Young asks.
“Oh, that’s fine. Corporate wants to bring in another transfer. Some sort of liaison between the acting and idol divisions? I’ll just come back and drop off the paper work later.” She says, tilting to her head slightly as if she’s thinking.
Looking at you again, the busty brunette bows and gives you a friendly smile before walking away.
“That was Park Min Young.” You say, turning to Sun Young with your mouth open in surprise.
“Yeah. Sorry to burst your bubble though, it’s not going to happen. She’s been happily married to her husband for like forever now, I don’t remember how many years. Always talking about their ‘infinite love stories.’ Whatever that means. She retired as an actress, but she always talks like she’s playing a role. I don’t quite understand her.” Sun Young shakes her head as she looks back down at her work.
Before you have time to think about that revelation, you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I’m the new liaison between acting and idol divisions, Im Jin Ah reporting. ” A familiar voice says behind you.
You turn around and forget how to breathe again. Long gorgeous brown hair tumbles down her shoulders and her white button up. Greeting you with a small bow, a beautiful and warm smile graces her lips. Her employee ID lanyard sits atop her chest; her breasts not as large as some of your other coworkers but definitely sizable. A professional black skirt hugs her hips and hides her thighs; but it doesn’t matter.  You’ve seen them countless times in music videos. Standing before you is one of your earliest K-pop biases, After School’s Nana.
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