#he's just a mix of flustered and unamused!!!!
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ahogedetective · 6 months ago
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“I’m not a photographer, but I can picture me and you together.” There’s the most satisfied look on his face as he flashes finger guns at the detective. ~ @chxrgebxltmeltdown
@chxrgebxltmeltdown !!!
"H-Huh?" That terribly cheesy pick up line, aside: even just the fact that Denki was trying to hit on him, made that flustered yelp leave him. "W...Wh-What are you saying all of a sudden?? Gggghh...."
Huffing, he just darts his eyes away. Giving a flustered little pout. "H...Hmph....d-don't tease me while saying s-such ridiculous things...."
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ridher · 3 months ago
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jj's purposeful touches to fluster his sweet & shy coworker
you'd been working at the little drink shack sat in the middle of kildare for a couple of weeks now. recently moving into a house on the south side of the island, you needed a job to help out your family.
it wasn't too hard, mixing up smoothies, coffees, or lemonades for kooks and pogues alike — nobody minded where you came from with a face like that.
but perhaps the most exciting part of the job was the sun-bleached blonde-haired boy about your age, who more often than not was working alongside you during shifts.
his flirting was obvious — but no different from how he'd act towards practically any pretty girl stopping by for a drink. so, you didn't let yourself get invested, because that was just jj.
it's a day just like that, he'll say something, anything to get you a little flustered with a proud, cheeky smile before turning right around to flash a flirty wink to the girl across the counter.
you'd be lying to say it didn't sting a little bit. you trudged around with a pouty frown, trying to avoid him just because you didn't want to deal with any more of his teasing.
he notices when a stupid joke that would usually have you giggling all sweetly how he adored, instead was met with an unamused hum. it takes a moment to process it, brushing it off and letting silence pass for the next few customers.
you're stirring up a couple of lattes when jj has had enough. with the excuse of such a small workplace, he shuffles sideways behind you, placing his hands firmly on the sides of your waist, with purpose.
your movements stutter and you're suddenly glad to be facing away from him so your clear reaction to his touch isn't so obvious — at least that's what you think. his hands slowly slide off while dropping lower, hardly brushing over your hips before they're gone from your body.
jj's smirking, watching as closely as he can out of the corner of his eye to gauge your expression. he can't think of a time he's touched you and the experience has his own thoughts racing.
but you don't say anything, just serving up the iced beverages with a polite smile.
there's a lull around closing when jj takes another chance, approaching from behind, smoothing a palm over the small of your back and leaning over your shoulder to glance across scribbles of math he doesn't understand.
"what's up with you, huh?" he murmurs all seductively under his breath, warmth fanning across your neck.
"nothing." is what you manage to whisper, thumbing through a booklet to record the cash in the register. unfortunately, just his hands on your skin gets you all soft.
"mhm.. you think i don't know wha's goin' on?" he continues, moving to stand beside you with his hand still bracketed on your back as if to hold you in place.
"enlighten me, jj." you breathe out in a sigh, hands fumbling around with his presence surrounding you.
"ya like this.. like me." his statement is punctuated with a squeeze of his fingertips into the side of your waist.
confirming nor denying his accusation, you continue trying to stay focused on the task at hand — not wanting to admit it was true out of embarrassment.
"so does every other girl you talk to on this island." the not-so-subtle dig and admission uncommonly silenced the boy.
"nah, nah— ion care about them. talking 'bout you." at that you finally tilt your head to look up at him all doe-eyed with parted lips, nothing coming out as you register his words.
his smirk is lopsided and he tilts his head, eyes flitting to your lips as he tongues at the inside of his cheek — enamored by you.
his thumb swipes over your skin before he slips away to help a customer you hadn't even noticed, haze lingering on your face and lowering before reluctantly addressing the third party.
the unspoken confessions only serve to increase the already palpable tension in the small shack. who knew just the warm touch of the maybank boy's hand would have you rethinking all feelings towards him? he did, that's for sure.
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musamora · 1 year ago
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𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 「𝔪𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚
characters. bungou stray dogs. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma.
content. f!reader. mentions of violence, mentions of suicide attempts (dazai), alcohol (chuuya), harassment (chuuya), cussing, general sappiness. not proofread.
author's note. this started as a writing exercise to get my writing inspo flowing again, and then i began working on it on and off for a week. so enjoy! this is also an attempt to nail some of their character's down, so hopefully it isn't too OOC.
would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.
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synopsis. what nicknames do the bungo stray dogs boys call their girlfriend?
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𝗢𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗔 ⋆ (𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗘)-𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡
The darkened alleyway had become thick with the stench of gunpowder and smoke, streetlights barely illuminating your path in the hush of night. You patrolled the area with quick, swift feet, hovering your gun near your hip in case of an ambush. Each step made your heart pound, sweat mixing with humidity to drench your skin as you inched toward the corner.
However, to both your dismay and prediction, Dazai wasn't taking this mission seriously—though he rarely did. It both aggravated and appeased you, knowing that if the situation became dangerous, he'd straighten up in a heartbeat. That didn't mean that his blissed smile and the skip in his step as he went on about the euphoria of death and the many methods he could die from didn't unnerve you.
Knowing him, he wouldn't mind getting shot.
"You know, my dear," he smirked, leaning close to your shoulder to whisper into your ear. "You're very sexy when you're serious." "Dazai," you chided, face stilled into an unamused expression. He fell back dramatically, flailing his hands into the air in surrender. "Oh, belladonna! That stern stare — I hope that beautiful expression is the last sight I see in this cruel world!" he cried, but much to his disdain, you had already rounded the corner, completely done with his antics. "(Name)-channnn!~ Don't leave me hereeee!"
𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧��𝗘 ⋆ 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗬 ⋆ 𝗪𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗬
It had been a strenuous day at the office for everyone, including you—a plethora of insane missions always followed by mountains of paperwork that never seemed to end. It was almost too much to bear. You huffed, leaning against your hand as you desperately tried to not fall asleep due to your exhaustion.
A pair of large, warm hands rested on your shoulders, massaging just the right spots in your taut muscles. You sighed, allowing yourself to lean back in your chair and enjoy the temporary reprieve. However, the owner of those hands had different plans, hot breath blowing against your ear as he bent down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Dazai chuckled to himself, enjoying your immediate reaction to straighten up, eyes pointed to the screen in an effort to avoid reacting.
You were just too cute.
He cooed out a plethora of sweet nothings in a low, hushed timbre as he tempted a flustered expression out of your face. And one thing that everyone should know about Osamu Dazai—he always gets what he wants when he puts his mind to it.
"Heyyy, sweetie. How's the paperwork going?" You continued to type. "Why won't you pay attention to me!" he wailed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he slumped against you. "Come onnn, honey. Don't you love me anymore?" You typed harder. He sniffled. "My little wifey doesn't love me anymore." You paused. "Whaat? Too forward?"
𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗟
Only strays wandered the streets at this time of night, but Dazai found himself itching to join them with each passing second. Sleep never easily came to the former demon prodigy. He found that each time he closed his eyes, he was only met with flashes of the past and disillusions of the future. His sharp mind would continue to turn like a machine, processing every granule of information as if he were inspecting an hourglass—a process that had become routine for him.
"Osamu..."
However, your intrusion into his nightfall rituals had soothed his instinctual aches. His eyes glazed over your drowsy figure, admiring the displacement of your hair and the heaviness of your eyes with an emotion he could only describe as awe.
Because in these moments, you didn't even have to be awake and looking at him to make him feel invigorated—feel alive. And with you, he didn't hate being alive anymore, didn't hate acknowledging his human flaws and issues. He just embraced it, even for only a second.
The rational part of his brain dissipated when he felt your warm, bare skin brush against his bandages, snuggling up to him. He knew his brain became useless in your presence, overcome with pure adulation for your mind, your body, and your very soul. So instead, he pulled you close, nuzzling his face in your neck and listening to the rhythmic pulse of your heart as it worked to soothe him to sleep.
"Good night, beautiful."
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𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 𝗡𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗘
The murmurs of the restaurant had been dampened by a luxurious and vast velvet curtain, enclosing the entire booth to separate you from the other patrons. Lights sparkled from a dazzling chandelier, creating ribbons of gold and white on the tablecloth. This was a special occasion since you rarely had dates outside of your apartment. Chuuya always wanted to take you out more often, to show you off and treat you to the finest, but there never was time. So even when you insisted you could stay inside for a date this evening, he had already planned on spoiling you rotten.
He watched your expression between folded hands, hiding his smirk as the waiter set down an extremely expensive bottle of red wine. You had insisted on getting the more recent and cheaper version, not wanting to splurge too much—which, of course, insulted him. How could he not provide the best for his partner whenever he got the chance?
"Stop gaping, babe," he tutted at your widened eyes, tone lighter than the biting edge it usually held. "Whaddya say we snap over the 1959 Chateau Latour, hm?"
𝗗𝗢𝗟𝗟 ⋆ 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬
You had been working the late shift at your office building, slaving the day away only to come out on the other side with an aching back and a small paycheck. Despite Chuuya's suggestion that you could quit your job and let him take care of you, you wanted to maintain your independence and some additional money, which he understood. So here you were, trudging home from the train station with heavy feet and tired eyes. Seeing the apartment complex in the distance made your heart soar, a pep in your step as you started to practically glide down the sidewalk.
"Heyyyy, baby. Lookin' good tonight. That outfit for me, huh?"
Grimacing, you ignored the disgusting cat-calls from the random stranger in favor of increasing your speed to reach the building. You could practically smell the woody cologne coming from Chuuya's jacket, but your blissful thoughts were interrupted by a set of hefty footsteps behind you. This would've been normal during the day, but no one else is out this late at night—except one person.
With tremoring fingers, you lifted your cell phone ever-so-slightly, finding that strange man walking at a brisk pace behind you in the reflection. It set off too many alarm bells in your head, and your walking turned into sprinting.
It just so happened that Chuuya was leaning on one of the pillars outside of your apartment complex. He never liked when you worked the late-shift, and he definitely didn't like when you walked home by yourself—however, you had insisted that you would be fine. He relented, enjoying the independent aspect of your personality, but he still had his precautions.
He straightened up with a passive expression when he saw your shadowed silhouette in the distance, but his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders tensed once he spotted the man who was running after you. Using his gravity manipulation, he pulled you closer to him and had the pervert sink into the ground, sizing him up with burning eyes.
His gloved hand went to your back, easing your trembling body. "Go inside, baby. You don't need'ta be involved in this shit." He watched carefully as you rushed inside the lobby, before slamming the man onto the hard concrete, a foot digging into his spine. "Listen, shithead. You ever look at my doll again, I fucking swear to God—" He never let you walk home alone after this, not like you were complaining much. And that man would never bother you again, if he was even still capable of walking.
𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦
It had been an absolutely draining day for Chuuya. With his position as an executive, you would assume that he wouldn't have to deal with the low-life freeloaders that the Port Mafia was bound to have, but it was exactly the opposite. He had been stuck for hours finishing a bunch of incident reports due to the destruction of properties on the southwestern side of Yokohama—incidents he was somehow not involved in.
He groaned as he entered the apartment, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it with his hat before a hearty aroma hit him. He followed his nose to the stove, finding an intricately wrapped dish with a note taped on top.
Make sure you eat before you go to bed. You need to grow big and strong. Love you! ♥
If it were from anyone else, he would've ripped the note apart when he hit the jab at his height—and he definitely scowled a bit—but there was a hint of endearance in his expression. He lifted the tin foil covering the food, feasting on the sight of penne alla vodka.
A raspy sound took him out of his ogling, his eyes scanning the darkened living room to find the one person he had been dying to see—you. And what a sight you were, drool trailed down your chin, a half-empty dish of pasta lying limply in your arms, and hair tousled as your neck bent at an awkward angle to rest against the cushions.
He couldn't help a small laugh at the sight, placing your plate on the coffee table and wiping the baby hairs out of your face, leaving a fleeting kiss on your forehead. In moments like this, with the disarray and train wreck his life had been, he found himself grateful for such simple, domestic sights. It enveloped him in a sense of peace, feeling at home for the first time.
"Hey, princess," he whispered with another peck to your temple. "I'm home."
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𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 𝗗𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗘𝗩𝗦𝗞𝗬 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
The pet names featured below are in Russian.
𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥
Fyodor rarely, if ever, used nicknames of any kind in public. With his specific occupation, it would be detrimental to reveal any kind of attachment to anyone, regardless of whether you were capable of defending yourself. However, rarely does not mean never.
It was an unusual occasion; a completely public date at a local café—you knew that he loved his tea and suggested it in the off-chance that it would possibly sway him to join you. You assumed that he'd say no, but he always found himself having a hard time denying you when you proposed it so sweetly.
However, you knew that you needed to be efficient with your time. You enjoy each other's company in a secluded corner of the café while also multitasking on your own work. The room emitted a wonderful ambiance that made you feel productive and inspired, though it was simultaneously cozy enough to relax in—for you, that was. Most of Fyodor's work required him to be in seclusion, so instead he enjoyed the view—both of the skies outside and a couple of stray glimpses at you.
"Drink for (Name)," a barista called.
Fyodor looked toward you expectantly, but you were far too in your own little world to notice. He would've normally broken your workflow, but he found himself oddly compelled to let you continue—he was awfully fond of the way your brows narrowed as you concentrated. So instead, he retrieved your drink, settling it on the table with a small clink.
"Here you are, dear."
𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗔 (милая) ⋆ 𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗡𝗔𝗬𝗔 (радная) ⋆ 𝗟𝗨𝗕𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗬𝗔 (любимая)
It was in the privacy of your shared home that his native tongue came out, engrossing you with his rich Russian accent—he knew the effect it had on you, so sometimes he toyed around with you by slipping it into everyday interactions.
You walked into his computer room, careful to not trip on wires as you carried in a steaming thermal mug of fresh black tea. He was often far too engrossed in his work to eat or drink, so you found the least you could do was to make him some tea whenever you weren't busy.
You placed it next to him, leaning over to take a curious glance at the screen—not understanding a word of it—and you were about to silently exit when he placed a cold hand on top of yours. Your brow raised, watching the smile that appeared on his lips.
"Thank you, милая." You sputtered over your words at the praise, watching in anticipation as he took a sip. He hummed at the nectarous flavor, slouching as the tea worked to soothe his throat. The tea circled in the mug as he swirled it, watching carefully as he could feel your composure melt away. "Delicious as always, радная." You mumbled a quick thank you, turning like a gazelle on your heel to escape his predatory gaze, but his hand pulled you back. Completely captive in his hold, you looked back, a knowing smirk on his face. "Stay for a moment, любимая. I'd like to hear your thoughts on something."
𝗠𝗬𝗦𝗛𝗞𝗔 (мышка)
You honestly had no clue how you had gotten into this position.
One moment, you were cleaning around various rooms, making sure everything was dusted and organized. The next, you were sitting in Fyodor's lap—though you couldn't say you minded. An occasional hum vibrated against the top of your head as Fyodor concentrated on a book in one hand, the other fastened securely around your waist, rubbing circles into the clothed skin.
It took every ounce of self-control you had to limit your face to a neutral glance, staring at the words in his Russian novel as if you were trying to decipher them—you were; you didn't know a lick of the language. You leaned against his shoulder, listening to the faint thump of his heartbeat as it lured you into relaxation. His eyes began to drift from the page, finding your internal struggle incredibly amusing. He titled his face, holding back a smirk when you made a startled noise from a kiss to the temple.
Cute.
In these moments, he felt human again. Everywhere else in the world, he was either treated as a god or a demon—and that was the way he had orchestrated it. But here, in the home you both created, he felt that he had finally received his sanctuary. A place where he sat, welcomed and unjudged for his sins.
"You're quite warm, мышка," he teased. "Perhaps you are developing fever. Hm?"
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𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 𝗚𝗢𝗚𝗢𝗟 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
The pet names featured below are in Ukrainian.
𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗞𝗔 (ластівка)
The fluorescent lights above burned your eyes as you scoured the aisles of the store aimlessly. You were on your weekly grocery run but had decided to make something different for dinner this week. There was only one problem—you didn't know where the ingredients were. You normally would've just asked one of the staff members, but you had unfortunately come into the store at a very late hour. Every time you looked at an employee, their eyes were glazed over as if wishing for the sweet release of death. So you decided to search on your own.
You scanned the shelves for a particular dressing, not finding it in its usual spot. It was only with a quick glance to the top shelf that you found it, teetering on the edge as if tempting you. Gritting your teeth, you outstretched your arm as you braced your other one on a lower shelf, only to shriek at the feeling of two hands supporting your hips. You whipped around to find the pervert who had touched you but found nothing. And then you looked down.
Damn him.
Two familiar gloves emerged from golden portals, and a mischievous chuckle accompanied their exit from down the aisle. You looked the white-haired jester up and down, crossing your arms with a pout.
"Did you have to startle me like that?" "Ohhh, sorry, ластівка," he cooed. "I only want to say hello!~"
𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗞𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (маленька моя) ⋆ 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 𝗞𝗢𝗞𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗔 (моя кохана)
How did you manage to get into this mess?
Oh yeah, Nikolai suggested it.
The classic jester, in his hobby of wreaking havoc everywhere he goes, suggested a fun date-night idea—to light bin fires around the alleys of Yokohama until the police caught on. At first, you had been chasing after him in an attempt to stop him, but it had all been in vain. He would let you grab him, only to chuckle as he teleported away with his cape. So instead, you opted to stick by his side and make sure he didn't cause too much harm.
You stood a couple of feet away from the blazing fire, your body resting in the tranquil glow of the chaotic light. Despite the oddities that came with the situation—and every situation that involved Nikolai—there was something so welcoming about the discord. Perhaps you had finally become used to Nikolai's antics. The aforementioned jester had been gaping at you for some time, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched your features through the fire.
"You look breathtaking in the glow of a flame, маленька моя."You stilled at his serious tone, fumbling over a response, but a crescendoing wail of sirens broke the silence. Nikolai smirked, grabbing your arm with one hand as the other went into his overcoat. "Oops!~ Looks like the police caught on. Come on, моя кохана! This way!"
𝗗𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗔 𝗠𝗢𝗬𝗔 (душа моя)
A refreshing breeze rushed past your face as you settled, watching the sun make its descent below the horizon of the city's harbor. Your legs dangled dangerously over the edge of a steep cliffside, yet you found no fear remaining in your heart. Perhaps you have become accustomed to a life of chaos; find beauty in the entropy and contradictions of life.
Nikolai couldn't help but stare at your face as it was outlined by the shadows of the dying sunbeams, awe-struck by your beauty. You were ethereal to him, everything he ever wanted to be and wished to have—so grounded and yet freer than ever. He knew that the relationship between you two, something neither of you had dared to label, should've made him feel constricted. It tied him down to the ground, and he should've been fighting for the skies.
But he didn't.
He felt free. And he knew that it was most likely his heart tricking him, stringing him to a relationship that would disappear with the wind—that he had truly become the fool everyone thought of him as. But he didn't care. Not anymore. Not with you by his side.
He snapped out of his philosophical contemplation as a soft hand cupped his cheek, thumbing at the performative mask that he wore. And he folded it like a deck of cards, removing it before placing a chaste kiss on your palm.
"Somehow, I feel freer than ever before. And it's all thanks to you, душа моя."
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𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗠𝗔 ⋆⁺₊ ⸺⸺⸺
𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 ⋆ 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧
It was a known fact that the Casino's manager had a rigid schedule, packed with meetings and event dates that he had to prepare for. Everything had to run perfectly inside his casino, and he would be damned if it didn't. However, Sigma always made it a mission to purposefully bump into you throughout the day. He had memorized your schedule easily, finding that there was only so much you could do in a finite building in the sky.
He would often find you either in the library or viewing deck, either in your own world reading a book or watching the real world from the skies. Even he had to admit that he could never get tired of the sight of the Earth from down below, contemplating the lives of those who lived on the ground.
"Good morning, dear," he greeted you at the entrance of the viewing deck, noticing a stack of books in your arms. "I see your trip to the library went well." "It was. I'm going to thumb through the newest shipment of fiction novels this afternoon," you replied, your hand already tapping on one of the hardcovers in anticipation. Sigma always made sure to buy the best books for the casino, and you knew he was often swayed by your own favorites. "I'm glad you're so interested in them." He knowingly smiled before a memory came to mind. "Could you hold off your reading for one moment, dearest? I've received a new layout for our casino's fliers and was hoping you'd take a look."
𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 ⋆ 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⋆ 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧
The anxious casino manager often forgot to eat because of his destructive work habits, often going hours without consuming anything in order to constantly maintain peace in his casino. It was a terrible habit that caused more stress for both of you, so you decided to enact a plan. Whenever you noticed his workload was becoming too much or he seemed too frazzled, you'd step in to make sure he was getting everything he needed.
A small (underlying word: large) part of him secretly reveled in this, both having the opportunity to be doted on—and be simultaneously scolded—while also relishing in a couple stress-free moments with you. And he also gets to enjoy your cooking, which he personally found better than the casino chefs'—but that's because he was biased.
On his worst days, you'd prance into his office after the casino lunch rush, carrying in tow a small bento packed with his favorite comfort foods and a cookie for dessert. He would look up from whatever paperwork he was slaving away on, a small smile on his tired face.
"Thank you, my love." "You really need to eat more, Sigma," you lectured, placing the bento on his desk to take his face into your hands, analyzing his eye-bags with a concerned expression. "You're gonna get sick." "I'm fine, lovely," he replied, cupping your hands with his own. "You don't need to worry about me." You struck him with a pointed glare, crossing your arms and tapping your foot as he began to work on paperwork again. The clock ticked by a couple of seconds, your maternal scowl deepening with each moment that passed where he didn't reach for the food. "Sweetheart," he sighed before relenting and reaching for the bento. "Fine. For you, I'll eat some. But only until C4276 finishes his blackjack game."
𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗜𝗙𝗘
The casino had been blasting with the sounds of the band in full swing long into the night, people dancing and chatting amongst themselves as the casino reached the peak of its ability. This new gala had been an exhilarating success, drawing in new patrons as cash flowed out from dealers' hands. It had been perfect, but it was obviously a lot on Sigma.
That was the reason you insisted on co-hosting it with him. He watched in amazement as you worked the crowd tonight, acting in concert to keep the patrons happy and to maintain order. You had been his perfect match, which showed just how much you watched over the casino.
He found you later that night standing on your private balcony, pausing at the entry to fully take in how beautiful you looked in your formal ensemble. The stars seemed to drift to your body like a satellite, casting you in a distant heavenly glow. But everything was silent as if you two were the only ones left to watch over the world as the clouds wandered by.
The anxiety and fear he always felt had been pushed to the side, melting away with the utter sense of belonging that you had engrained into him. You had shown him that he wasn't a mediocre man but a capable and strong individual capable of loving and being loved. You turned as the balcony door shifted open, welcoming him into both your arms and heart.
And he fell for you even more.
"Ohh, love of my life," he mumbled, nuzzled into your shoulder. "What would I be without you?"
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милая = dear/darling радная = dear любимая = beloved мышка = mouse ластівка = swallow (bird) маленька моя = my little one моя кохана = my love душа моя = my soul
TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @sillyspookycat @kotysluny
© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.
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kuni-is-daddy · 1 year ago
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Imagine shower sex with scara & wanderer
Scaramouche X Reader X Wanderer : Puppet pleasers.
Context: 'Agree to disagree'
Word count: 1.4k Straight filth.
|Scaraficlist!|ScaraNSFWAlphabet
Ft: F/ngering,Facef/cking, Scara's a jerk, Double p/netration.
"N-No..Scara..Kuni..Its fine, Im just tired..I'll go wash up for a bit"
CW: Minors do NOT interact past the cut! This is a NSFW POST!
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Scara and kuni treating there darling to a soothing shower after their stressful date. Scara 'gently' guided you into the shower as kuni is adjusting the water just as you like it and their immediately both obsessed with how you look under them. Your eyes are droopy as the makeup washes off into the washcloth Kuni gently dampened your face with and mixed in soap, Holding your chin up with his pale fingers. While scara Bit his lip at how delicate you looked from the back. Bite marks he's given along your neck and small hickeys on your shoulders.
The shower was rather spacious and sparklingly clean to the point you saw your reflection by the thick tile rest, resting under a cubby with your bars of soap, shampoo and other bodywash they bought as a gift. You heard a soft sigh and assumed it was kuni, His lean form was shielding most of the warm water from your face and washing through his own hair. His indigo pupils never left your beautiful face as he carefully Dapped along your lips. Smudging off your lipgloss, then softly folding the towel towards your eyes. Just as he was, you we're like a doll to him in every way, He relished in you dressing up for him, The way your skirt perfectly curved along your thighs then up to your waist. Finally leading up to your breasts hidden under a blouse. Even recollecting your bitterly warm smile after patiently waiting with lessor lord kusanali for his return after days made his cock twitch.
In a daze he continued dapping the cloth despite your face being clearly washed off for the nth time. "K-kuni?" You blinked, "Are you okay?" You brushed his bangs out his eyes and his cheeks turned pink at the contact. "Hm? Yeah. I just...Do you feel better. Doll?" "Mhm~" You hummed and rested on his palm; the puppet became even more flustered than he already was. His eyes dimmed and moved closer to your face, intoxicated by the smell of your soap. Scara Averted his own gaze to kuni and looked at him unamused. What a pitiful state he's in; Scara thought, but archons was he right. You looked wonderful like this, Fragile... and so vulnerable like a flower as you pressed your soft lips on Kuni's. He removed his fingers and now cupped your face with his hand in search for your tongue. The water splashed onto your eyes, fluttering them shut while a pair of hands trailed along your chest and you moaned into Wanderer's mouth, catching him off guard as he pulled away with a thin trail of your saliva on his lips. "S-scara~? Wait-" He began licking along your previous bite marks and cupped your breasts. "Ah ah ah~ darling...When you asked to be pampered.. Did all my pet want was a little kiss?" Scara mocked kuni then grinned at him while he sucked his teeth. "I- mnn..No~" You shook your head and scara whispered in your ear. "Then take your reward like a goodgirl."
Before you could mutter another word kuni took ahold of your face again, cupping your cheeks with his thumb eagerly to shove his tongue within your taste. "Mnh~ hmn~" You moaned into kuni's mouth; His taste was a bit sweet like yours from dessert you both shared at the restaurant. Your hand trailed onto his neck, pushing him closer with breathy sighs leaving his lips. Scara's cock grew harder at the sight and bucked your hips closer to his erection, your ass skimmed along the tip of his cock while you we're sandwiched in-between the two puppets. He began licking along your previous bite marks until You finally pulled away from wanderer. Practically gasping for air through the heated mist of the shower. "shit.. your enjoying yourself arent you? My pretty little doll~" kuni went to touch your chest but got interrupted by scara's own hands wrapped around you. "Put her on down on the Tile. She's getting fucked the way she deserves." Scara ordered. You swallowed nervously at his explicit words turning your head down only to notice Kuni's shaft hard and leaking precum. He rolled his eyes but complied, Picking you up then laying your body onto the thick tile rest. Your back shivered a bit at the cold, but quickly relaxed in the hot shower. The two puppets looked over you once again, Legs spread apart and hair frazzled along the tile. And that 'innocent' glare you always gave them before they pounced on you like a cat.
Scara began pumping his cock, moving closer to your face where kuni shifted down in between your legs. "Open your mouth" He ordered again. You stuck your tongue out, panting again as the hot air made contact. Scara's eyes glowed a faint purple and he chuckled a bit at your obedience. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, Then guided your mouth onto his length almost a bit too gently. "If you bite, I wont let you cum." he whispered. Kuni Licked his lips at the sight of your wet clit, He traced his bangs back then licked around the bud, instantly making your thighs twitch. Scara let out a soft moan while your tongue laced around his cock. God your mouth was so fucking warm. It took every bit of the balladeers restraint to not face fuck you as he guided your head back and forth. You couldnt help but moan on his cock, Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure on both ends.
"Your- Mn~ such a needy little doll arent you.? You like being used like this from both ends?" Your head bucked back as kuni inserted two of his fingers into your pussy, scissoring you while licking along your folds. You moaned again as scara's length pushed deeper back and forth into your throat as if you we're begging for him to fuck you. "Ah~ just like that- F-fuck your gonna make me cum slut~Fuck..Fuck!~" Scara grabbed your hair roughly again and bucked his hips into your throat, pushing himself far enough that your eyes rolled back while swallowing his warm load and he slightly felt a sting. Kuni shoved a 3rd finger into your wetness. His slim fingers we're soaked in a mix of your juices and water as he stroked himself with his other hand. Scara leaned down, grouping your breasts in his hands while playing with your nipples. "Yeah? Your gonna cum from just his fingers slut?" "M' not a slut~ I- Please~! Kuni!" Kuni thrusted his fingers faster, chasing his own high while desperately licking your bud. "Remember what i told you slut?" the balladeer whispered again. "If you bite, your not gonna cum?" He said through snickers. "B-but I- Ah~! I didnt~! S-scara kuni-! please! please!" You whimpered and begged but to no avail Kuni Slowed down on your clit, Only peppering licks before licking up your current juices with his fingers.
Scaramouche picked you up, then had kuni hold you by your waist as he leaned onto the wall. "Wrap your arms around me." Without warning Kuni and scara both inserted their tips inside your prepped pussy and you nearly screeched after being so full. "Ah! S-scara- Kuni~! it's too much- Your so big~!" "You can take it darling~" Kuni said while kissing your shoulder. Scara thrusted up into your warmth, moaning at your walls squishing them both inside. "S-so fucking tight..~" Within the shower echo'd their mixed praise and moans in your mushy mind, Your throat was still horse from scara cumming inside, but you pleaded with short breathes to finally reach your orgasm. You we're so patient with them during the date and there many many arguments, Why couldnt they just reward their good girl after treating them so well. "R-right there and~ ah! Scara~ Kuni~ Mn Im close~! please dont stop! please let me cum!" "Hah~ look how fucking delirious she is. Already fucked out just like that~ You wanna cum that bad slut?" please please please "mhm~! please let me cum~!"
With another sloppy thrust from both of them, They came deep into your womb with their hot seed as your juices squirted onto them. As if on instant your body began to feel numb as your high subsided. You fell back into The balladeers chest with hazy vision and view as they cock warmed you. The room began to feel silent, And the only sound was your shared panting and shower still running warm water. It was comforting being in between them like this as stuffed as you we're. Finally, your eyes fluttered shut in-between them. A perfect view of two pairs of indigo eyes and a devilish smirks watching you rest.
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spiderrmax · 2 years ago
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soft moments
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synopsis: soft moments shared with the main four word count: 500ish (each) author's note: i don't believe in proofreading. ive never made a mistake. ever
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stan marsh
Stan's movements are sluggish as he enters your bedroom. Without care, he unties the laces of his sneakers, but making sure to leave them in a place you won't trip. Heaving out a long sigh, he collapses clumsily into your messy bed; your comforter is at the foot of your bed, and your pillows are placed haphazardly. Stan buries his head into one, and finds comfort in the familiar smell of your shampoo. You enter in behind him, and snort, amused, at how he's sprawled out. He has no energy to give you a snide comment, instead using that effort to take his beanie off, allowing his black hair to sprawl around his head, acting as a halo on your pillow.
The day's weight is heavy on you too, but you take more time in removing your shoes. Unlike Stan, who went to school in sweatpants, you have to change into something more comfortable. With his gaze in your pillow sheets, there's no discomfort in allowing yourself to find mix-matched pajamas to relax. He seems to sense when you're done shifting, and rolls over onto his back, watching as you finish pulling your shirt over your head. When you turn to face him, he shuts his eyes, just open enough he can just see your blurry figure.
He watches as you gently brush his hair from his forehead, clearing a spot so you can press a soft kiss onto it. Not wanting to give himself away, he doesn't allow a grin to show on his face, but his heart speeds up anyway, like it always does. When you go to pull away, most likely to let him rest, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist, pulling you down into the bed next to him. The scared yelp you let out does elicit an amused chuckle from him, and you can only shoot an unamused look his way. You don't pull away, lured in by his warmth.
One of his hands stays wrapped around you, while the other shoots to grab your comforter. He struggles for a bit to get it comfortably over the two of you, and you're forced to help throw the blanket. You fluff it up in the air, and it slowly falls over the two of you. Once it's situated, Stan pulls you in closer, gently placing your head into the crook of his shoulder. Despite being so strung up from the day, you find yourself relaxing into him, worries melting under the protection from the comforter and being in his arms. His breathing evens out pretty quickly, eyes shut and his features soft; you find yourself mapping out his skin, despite having every mole and freckle memorized from previous naps. He's prettiest like this, you think, when the world can't ruin everything. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer, and you grin. You fall asleep smiling, grateful to be in love and to be loved.
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kyle broflovski
You know your attention should be on the copy of Hamlet in your lap, but you find it much more entertaining to admire your boyfriend as he reads the same book. His brows are furrowed, trying to decipher Shakespeare’s words, and his nose occasionally scrunches when he doesn’t understand it at first. Green eyes skirt around the page, going back and forth; he pauses to tab specific lines.
Sitting at the opposite end of the couch, you wish he decided to close the gap, most likely sitting far away in hopes you’ll stay focused. Long fingers turn the page, and you watch as he pauses, before making eye contact with you. A loving grin adorns your face, painting his pale skin pink. You laugh at his flustered state, scooting closer to him, subconsciously.
He’s unamused, rolling his eyes and nudging your leg with a sock-clad foot. After that, his attention is back on the book, intending to get it finished. You admire his dedication, wishing your brain was able to be enticed by the tragedy. A sigh escapes your lips, as you glance back down at your book. There is a lingering thought that you'll have to get a synopsis online.
Kyle must notice your struggle, and taps your leg with his foot again. He's smiling at you, shifting his left arm a bit, an invite for you to come lay. There's no hesitance, your copy of Hamlet falling onto the floor as you move to enter his embrace. Once you're situated, using his chest as a pillow, his left arm wraps around you, reaching again to open the book.
He opens earlier than he was, noticeable by the fact he's already tabbed some of the pages. You grin, giddy that he doesn't mind going back for you. Once he's found the first page you were assigned, he begins reading it aloud. His voice is deep, but lacks the emotion the characters should be having during their monologues. It's still perfect, and although some of the meanings fly over your head, the words stick clearer now. His left hand leaves the book to trace designs in the fabric of your shirt; it only leaves that spot when he needs to turn the page, returning as quickly as it left.
The words sound nice on his lips, and you can't help but glance up at him. He looks nicest like this, focused yet relaxed. You know if you vocalized this he would disagree, arguing that you aren't looking at him at a flattering angle. Again, once he's finished a page, he turns to glance down at you; your stare not subtle, but still loving. He rolls his eyes, but smiles despite himself fondly. Gently, he pushes a strand of hair out of your face, before pressing a kiss to your temple.
After, he returns reading aloud, and you snuggle closer, wrapped entirely in him.
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eric cartman
Your legs swing as you sit atop of Eric's sink, waiting for him to find the product he plans to use. A headband is situated on your head, pushing your locks back to keep them out of your face; you're sure you look ridiculous right now.
Recently, Eric's taken an interest in skin care; buying a surplus of face masks and serums to use on his soft skin. He prides himself in the knowledge, and with that hubris, asked for you to partake in his new hobby with him. Not without limits of course, your boyfriend is always very particular with how things are done. He's taken care to pick out the products he'd think were the best for your skin, and hasn't let your hands near his product, saying you'd use too much. You don't mind, really, enjoying how gentle his touch gets as he massages the product into your skin; he's never this soft.
Eric lets out a noise of triumph before returning with a clay mask, and when he places it down next to you, you see it's meant to provide a deep cleanse. In his other hand is the tool meant to apply the mask, and you sit up to make his work easier. 
Slowly, he opens the container, and you can see visible usage of the product; you grin a bit at the realization he doesn't mind sharing a favored product with you. The mask itself is green, and you watch as Eric slowly dips the applicator in, and gets enough product to start coating your cheeks. It's cool on your skin, but you don't back away, allowing Eric to paint your face slowly. His brows are furrowed in concentration, biting his lip as he concentrates to cover your face evenly. Soon, he's painting over the bridge of your nose, before he's having to get a bit more from the container.
The process continues as such, and you're grateful that the green mask is covering most of the heat in your face. His fingers linger at your jaw, having to tilt your face to get better access to certain parts of your face. His stare is concentrated, but occasionally it softens when he backs up to admire you. Eric's hair is pushed back with a headband too, and once he's finished with the application with your mask, begins applying his own.
He's much quicker with applying his then he was when he was doing yours, swift with thinly coating it onto his face. By the time he's done, certain patches of the clay have dried on your face. The mask is patchy as you look in the mirror, and you can't help but stick your tongue out at your reflection. Your silly faces cause Eric to begin laughing, and it becomes a competition to make the craziest faces as you two wait for the masks to dry.
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kenny mccormick
It's not rare for you to find yourself on a roof of a building with Kenny. It's where he tends to go when the weight of the world gets too much; recently, he's extended that invite to you.
There's not a lot of words exchanged as the two of you sit up there, finding solace in the night sky. Occasionally, you point out constellations, despite not knowing many of their names. Sometimes Kenny and you make up your own names for the stars, laughing at some of the ridiculous things you guys can come up with.
Tonight, neither of you say nothing; the day too long for jokes. You're still curled up together, your knees under your chin. Kenny is leaned back, propped up on his arms, with one being behind your back. You still enjoy looking at the stars, mapping them out quietly, allowing yourself to focus on something that isn't the stress of your typical day. Every time you turn back to look at Kenny, to quietly check to see if he's doing okay, he's always staring at you. Despite being embarrassed to be under his gaze, you can't help but notice how nice he looks under the moonlight, adding highlights to his blonde locks. He smirks, almost cat-like when you meet his eyes, and you quickly turn back to look at the sky.
It's cold, like it always is in South Park, but tonight the wind seems more brutal. The long shirt you're wearing isn't a lot to keep out the piercing breeze. It bites at your face, and in return you tuck your chin closer to your knees, hoping to provide some warmth. You can feel the rise of goose bumps on your arm, and try to grind your jaw to prevent your teeth from chattering.
Kenny shifts beside you, and you look over just in time to see him taking off his orange parka. He holds it out to you, still grinning, and you hesitate before taking it. You glance at the black shirt he's wearing, which seems to be made of a thick material, and he nods at you, reassuring. Slowly, you take it, and unwind yourself, sacrificing your minimal body heat for the warmth that radiates from Kenny's jacket. The sleeves hang off your arms, allowing your hands to be covered too.
Once you're situated, Kenny pulls you close, tucking you into his chest. Teasingly, he grabs the hood and pulls it over your head; you allow it to happen. His left arm wraps around you, and he continues to use his right to support his weight. You reach for the hand wrapped around your waist, squeezing it as to say thanks. Just barely, you can feel his lips press softly on your forehead. You grin, relaxing further into his embrace and his warmth.
Despite the lack of words, you can feel the love radiating off of Kenny.
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yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy · 3 months ago
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Rolan's performance issues (Part 1)
A Tsundere Rolan (OVA)
I am so mean to my blorbo's. Anyways, Part 1 (this part) is why Rolan has performance anxiety in the bedroom during Part 2.
Inspired by this post/video.
(This isn't a part of the Tsundere Rolan series per say, but it is canon in the series. I know OVA stands for "original video animation", but you get the gist of what I'm going for here, yeah?)
I color coded the dialog for Rolan, Cal, and Lia for easier reading.
Suggestive, angst, hurt no comfort (part 1 only), insecurities, self-loathing, attachment issues, abandonment issues.
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Rolan and Tav's relationship had been getting more physical as of late. The thought of them going all the way had Rolan as excited as it did nervous.
One morning during breakfast Cal and Lia noticed a hickey that Rolan's pajama shirt didn't quite cover, and as his siblings they were legally obligated to tease him about it.
"Rolan, I thought that Astarion only fed from Tav." Lia said, with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Not having had his morning cup of coffee yet, Rolan didn't respond— he just looked at Lia with a mix of genuine confusion and mild trepidation.
"Astarion!? It looks as though he were attacked by a very large leech!" Cal replied with a shit eating grin.
**Rolan's face**
"What?" He asked, his sleep addled mind only functional enough to shamble around like a zombie that needed caffeine instead of brains. His tail started to sway in annoyance— he knew they were teasing him, but he didn't know what they were teasing him about.
Taking pity on him, Cal tapped his pointer finger against his own neck in the spot where Tav had left a hickey on Rolan's neck.
"You've got a..." Cal said, trailing off at the end of the sentence to let Rolan figure it out himself.
Rolan's eyes suddenly widened, his cheeks flushed as his hand shot up to cover the incriminating mark on his neck.
Cal and Lia burst into laughter as they continued to poke fun at a very unamused Rolan.
"Are you sure that Tav isn't a vampire Rolan?" Lia questioned her brother with mirth.
"Could you two please be mature about this?" Rolan asked, despite already knowing that the answer would be—
"No!" Lia and Cal gleefully him answered at the same time.
Gods, he was horrified, they were never going to let this go. Rolan pinched his nasion between his thumb and pointer finger in a futile attempt to stave off a headache.
"Is the Master of the Tower planning on using some magic to impress Tav in the bedroom?" Lia asked while wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"Do NOT bring my wizardry into your juvenile teasing, Lia." Rolan sternly warned.
"Yeah Lia, Rolan's magic isn't something that you should tease him about." Cal said to his sister, his voice and demeanor suddenly turning staid.
"It isn't?" Lia asked, surprised by Cal abruptly switching to Rolan's side.
"It isn't?" Rolan asked, surprised when Cal unexpectedly took his side. "I mean, you're right— it isn't. Thank you, Cal." He said with a pleased air of finality.
"Yeah well, I know it's a bit of a sensitive subject— with you having problems eh, performing your magic for someone who you've romantic feelings for." Cal said in comforting patronizing tone.
Rolan looked aghast as he asked "What in the hells are you talking about Cal? I've never had trouble perform-"
Cal cut Rolan off before he could finish his sentence. "Sarai, the bakers daughter."
Recognition dawned on Rolan's face. "I was fifteen, I was an inexperienced novice who barely understood magic!" He argued.
"Hahaha, oh yeah! I'd almost forgotten about that!" Lia cackled with delight.
"That was fourteen years ago!" Rolan reminded his impudent siblings.
"Her skin was the same shade of puke-green for almost a whole tenday, Rolan!" Cal reminded his flustered brother.
"Yeah, even the local healer didn't know that a miscast color spray could do that!" Lia added.
"I didn't have confidence in my magical abilities back then. I tried to cast a spell to impress her, and panicked when I couldn't! I got lucky that neither she nor I were injured!" Rolan said defensively.
"Oh you got lucky alright Rolan, just not in the way you were hoping you would." Lia jeered.
Before Rolan could respond, Cal added on to Lia's remark.
"He got lucky in another way on that day too, Lia! As had he not spectacularly failed in his attempt to seduce the fair maiden, he would've disappointed her by being unable to perform under pressure in the— I'd say bedroom, but storage room would be more realistic."
"I didn't know what I was doing! I was flying by the seat of my pants without any guidance..." Rolan said to his siblings, his vehemence waning as a horrible realization dawned upon him.
He stopped registering Cal and Lia's continuous taunts as his mind focused on a single, harrowing, thought: He is just as inexperienced now as he was then, all those years ago. Worse still, he was even more nervous now than he was as a hormonal teenager.
Up until now his lack of sexual and romantic experience hadn't been of any concern to him. He had his studies to focus on, he didn't have time for any "frivolous dalliances".
But now Rolan was pushing 30. He was in a romantic, soon to be sexual relationship. With a bard. A very attractive bard. Tav was honest about having had numerous lovers previous to him, and that hadn't much bothered the mage— until now.
Gods, he could hardly believe that Tav wanted to be in a serious relationship with him. Rolan knew what he was like; temperamental, orotund, and standoffish.
But Tav seemed to like him in spite of his flaws... maybe even because of them? No, He dared not to hope that such an absurd thought had any merit. Tav put up with his loathsome personality— lying to himself would only make it all the more painful when Tav eventually realizes that Rolan isn't worth the effort and abandons him.
Panic seized Rolan, he had to make sure that he didn't make a fool of himself when he and Tav eventually had sex. It had to be perfect. He had to be perfect, or Tav might see that Rolan didn't deserve to be loved.
"Rolan?" Cal gently called to his brother, both he and Lia having noticed how upset Rolan was.
They knew they went too far, that they hit a very sensitive nerve, because of Rolan's body language.
His shoulders were hunched up to his ears, his body stiff and his muscles tightly clenched. His hands were balled into fists to hide that they were shaking.
Rolan's breathing was strained, his eyes were looking towards them but he wasn't seeing the world around him. His face was carefully schooled into a neutral and unaffected look.
HIs tail held low and rigid, unmoving except for its spade which was twitching as it did when Rolan was particularly distressed.
"Hey, Rolan. We didn't mean it, we were just teasing." Lia said in an uncharacteristically gentle voice.
"Are you two quite finished?" Rolan asked, his voice clipped.
"...Yes, but Rolan we-" Cal replied before Rolan interrupted him.
"Good. Now if you'll excuse me I have a store to open and research to complete." Rolan said as he quickly strode away, his "breakfast" of black coffee left untouched and forgotten.
"Rolan!" Lia called after him, but she paused when Cal placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Forcing him to talk is only going to make things worse, Lia." Cal sagely counseled.
"Shit. You're right." Lia replied as she sat down and placed her head in her hands. "We went to far."
"We went way to far." Cal agreed, and told Lia "We need to apologize and make it up to him."
Lia lifted her head to look dejectedly at Cal. "Apologizing we can do, but how in the world would we make it up to him?" Lia asked.
But Cal did not respond, for he did not have an answer.
---
Elsewhere in the tower Rolan was trying to get ready for the day. But his dammed hands wouldn't stop shaking long enough for him to put his hair in its normal style.
"Zurgan!" Rolan cursed, hurling his hairbrush across his room in frustration. Letting out a heavy sigh as he heard a loud cracking noise.
"Oh wonderful job Rolan. You broke it." He said to himself, disappointment and self-disgust welling up inside him.
He paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and decided to send his simulacrum to man the register of Sorcerers Sundries today— he was in no mood to content with any ignorant, rude, customers.
Part 2
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sosa2imagines · 7 months ago
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Misunderstanding. Part 9
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Warnings- Confessions, sadness, fluff. --------------------------------------------
Tony's voice crackles through the comm once again, filled with urgency. “Nat, Steve, I've got the code, but as you can see the wires are tangled. Just be extra careful not to trigger anything, while untangling them.”
Natasha and Steve look at each other, their expressions a mix of determination and concern. They adjust their approach, ensuring they take even more care when unravelling the wires.
“Copy that, Stark.”
You turn your attention back to your surroundings, where Tony is engrossed in with the bomb and Matt playfully teases him.
Matt grins at Tony, but Tony's preoccupied and doesn't give Matt the satisfaction. “What, got nothing better to do?” Tony asks. Matt chuckles, enjoying getting under Tony's skin. “Just checking in on you.”
Tony snorts, clearly unamused. “Well, you can stop checking now.”
You can't help but chuckle at Matt's teasing and Tony's reactions. It's a familiar dynamic, a mix of banter and tension.
“You know, anyone ever told you you're annoying as hell?” Matt feigns hurt, placing a hand on his chest. “Annoying? I prefer the word ‘endearing’.” Tony rolls his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Endearing? Yeah, sure.”
Matt smirks, enjoying the verbal banter. “Come on, you love me.” Tony huffs, pretending to be annoyed. “Love is a strong word, Murdock.”
Matt's smirk widens, enjoying the back-and-forth. “Alright, maybe ‘like’ then.”
“Still pushing it.” Tony tells him. Matt chuckles. “What, you can't handle a little flirtation now and then?”
“I'd rather handle a bomb.” “Oh, don't worry about it – handling me can be just as explosive.”
Sensing the banter escalating a bit too much, you step in, trying to defuse the situation.
“Alright, Matt, lay off him. We've got a task at hand.” Matt turns to you, a smirk still on his lips. “Just trying to lighten the mood, sweetheart. Tension's in the air, you know?”
You roll your eyes, although a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Can't deny that, but we're kind of in the middle of a something, remember?” Matt raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. I'll behave.”
Tony chimes in, his tone still slightly annoyed, but also grateful for your intervention. “Thank you, kid you are a savior!” You chuckle at him. “I wouldn't go that far. Just trying to keep you from losing your head.”
Matt grins, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of Tony. “Can't blame him for getting a bit flustered around a beauty like you and a charming guy like me.”
Tony, the protective dad, turns to Matt with a warning in his eyes. “You are not going to flirt with her!” Matt raises an eyebrow, amused by Tony's fatherly attitude. “Oh, are we going into dad mode now? Relax, I'm just being friendly.” Tony shakes his head, not backing down. “Friendly, my ass. You're practically undressing her with your eyes.”
You nearly choke on air as Tony bluntly declares that Matt is undressing you with his eyes. You splutter, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. “Tony, seriously?” Matt bursts out laughing, clearly amused by your reaction.
You cast Matt a glare as you catch your breath. Matt just smiles “I know you are glaring at me.” “Focus please focus.”
Some minutes later, Natasha calls out to Tony, bringing his attention back to the crucial task at hand. “Tony, wires are untangled. Let's get it done.”
Tony quickly shifts his focus back, putting his teasing banter with Matt aside for the moment. “Roger that, Nat. I’m disabling the code, as soon as I tell you to cut, cut them.”
“Copy that.”
He dives back into the bomb's circuitry, his eyes scanning the wires for the key to disabling the encryption. Meanwhile Natasha and Steve, keeping an eye on the timer, takes a deep breath. They work in silence, each knowing the stakes.
Tony, realizing the potential danger, turns to Steve and Natasha. “Stay there. It's too risky for you both to come any closer, in case it backfires.”
Natasha protests, wanting to help. “But we can assist you, Tony.”
“No, Nat. I can't risk you two getting injured. I need to concentrate on defusing this bomb. Stay there, please.”
Steve, hearing Tony's warning, immediately turns around to get back to you. Natasha places a hand on Steve's arm, trying to reason with him. “Steve, she'll be fine.”
“I'm not leaving her alone there.”
Matt turns to Tony, his voice surprisingly serious. “Tony, I have a favour to ask…there's something you should pass on to Karen and Foggy if... well, if anything happens to me.” Tony sensing the gravity in Matt's tone, tells him, “Of course, Matt. Anything.”
It was a rare sight to see, Tony actually listening to Matt.
Matt takes a deep breath, his face stoic. “Tell them... tell them I love them. They're my family, my home. And tell them to keep fighting. Even if I'm not there, our work... it has to continue.”
Matt has a grave expression on his face, “Tony, if I don't make it out of this one...” He pauses, “Please tell Karen and Foggy...”
His voice falters, and Tony nods, understanding the weight of the moment. “Of course, Matt. I'll make sure they know your wishes, if it comes to that.”
“Thank you. They mean the world to me.”
You squeeze his hand, trying to motivate him. “Who’s Karen and Foggy?”
Matt turns to you, his voice tinged with emotion. “Karen is my girlfriend. She's...everything to me. We might not see eye to eye on everything, but she's my rock.” He takes a deep breath. “And Foggy...he's my best friend and business partner. He's been with me through thick and thin.”
Matt pauses, gathering his thoughts. “They deserve to know how much they mean to me, just in case...”
“Hey, nothing will happen to us.”
Matt smiles and squeezes your hand, appreciating your words.
You turn to Tony, your voice filled with remorse and a touch of desperation. “Please, tell Steve... tell him I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt him or make him doubt me. I'm so sorry for everything.”
Tony nods, understanding the weight of your request. “I'll tell him, kid. But you need to know it's not your fault.”
“But it is. If I hadn't...” Tony cuts you off, his voice gentle yet determined. “No, it's not. It's not your fault.”
Tony looks at you, his expression softening for a moment. You take a shaky breath, summoning your courage to say goodbye to your dear friend. “And tell him...tell him I wish him the best in life.” Tony hesitates, then nods.
Your voice quivers with emotion as you turn to Tony, tears welling up in your eyes. “Tony, you've been more than a brother to me. You've been my rock, my guardian, my best friend.”
Tony's expression betrays his own emotions, his eyes glistening.
“And Nat, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Thor... you're all my family. I love you all so deeply.”
Tony's voice cracks as he responds. “Kid, you know I love you too. More than words can express. And I promise, nothing is going to happen to you two.”
Matt, witnessing the emotional exchange between you and Tony, places a supportive hand on your shoulder. He understands the weight of the situation.
As Tony was about to get back to work, Steve barged in, unable to contain his emotions any longer, he drops to his knees before you, tears welling up in his eyes. He gently takes your hand, his grip firm but tender.
“Y/n, I...I'm so sorry. For everything. For doubting you, for yelling at you.” His voice quivers as his tears begin to fall. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I..I...”
Part 8 - Part 10
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Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624
@thezombieprostitute @lillyxlillian
@nekoannie-chan @lovely-geek
@redbloodedgurl @ashley202
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buckybleu · 3 years ago
Text
✦yours ✦
pairing: Shang-Chi x reader
summary: Sundays are your and Shang-Chi’s favorite
a/n: Just a little something short & sweet because of this post. Also I wholeheartedly believe Shang-Chi would be the sweetest boyfriend ever, but like also exudes this BDE confidence. I don't know haha, hope you enjoy!
reblog/like/feedback are greatly appreciated! ✨
word count: 507
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Sunday morning meant sleeping in and not having to worry about what was going on outside your front door. That was the plan, up until you heard the clattering of pans, followed by Shang-Chi’s string of curses. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull the warm comforter off to see what mess your kitchen may have become.
“Two cups of flour...one teaspoon of baking soda…” Shang-Chi continues to quietly recite the ingredients, not noticing your presence. Your kitchen counter was lined with various bowls of what you assumed failed pancake mixes. Your eyes fixate on a shirtless Shang-Chi in grey sweats that hangs dangerously low, his toned back on full display for you to silently gawk at.
There has always been an unspoken attraction between you and Shang-Chi. Neither of you could ever admit to one another about how you truly felt. The constant gazes, lingering touches, and movie night cuddles seemed to keep you both content. But the nagging thoughts of ‘what if?’ always looped back into your mind.
“Ow! Shit!” You let out a laugh, watching Shang-Chi quickly pull his hand away from the hot pan.
An unamused Shang-Chi turns around, “Ha. Ha. It’s so funny. Does my pain bring out that much joy?”
“You know it’s my job to make us breakfast every Sunday.” You scoot Shang-Chi to the side, pouring some of the mix into the pan. “What are you doing up so early anyways? Didn’t you get in late last night?”
“I thought I’d change it up a bit. Plus you looked peaceful sleeping, didn’t want to wake you up.”
You smile at his thoughtfulness, flipping the pancake. Shang-Chi couldn’t help but admire the way you looked in his t-shirt. How effortless you made pancake making look. How your smile just seems to make his morning just a bit brighter.
“Shang-Chi?” Your voice pulled him out his haze. “I always wondered…”
He hummed, not taking his eyes away from your beauty.
“Do you have a preference on what you want to be called? Like your name?” You turn off the stove, turning around and placing the last pancake on a plate.
“Not really, I guess. I just go with what works.”
“Okay...but do you want me to call you Shaun? Shang? Shang-Chi? I want to be respectful here”. You lean against the counter, eyes locking with him.
Shan-Chi had been mulling over the past few days, trying to find a perfect way to ask you out. It didn’t help that Katy was also nagging him to do so before someone else swooped in. But it seemed like the perfect time to ask you. It was Sunday, both your favorite day. You had pancakes. So why not make it more memorable.
“Well if I’m being honest, it’s kinda disrespectful you’re not mine. So just call me ‘yours’ then.” Shang-Chi closely leans into you. Smiling at your flustered state, he grabs the plate of pancakes.
“Let’s eat.” Shang-Chi winks and walks towards the dining table.
Sundays were definitely your favorite.
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tetralea · 4 years ago
Text
Dirty words
Pairing: dom!Tom Holland x reader
Word Count: 1.9K+
Warning: dom-sub dynamics, dirty talking, cum in panties, cum play, oral male recieving, pussy job, face fucking (not too hardcore), pet names like cock slut, orgasm denial
Summary:  Tom is in a zoom call, and you tiptoe around him, never showing up or making any noises. Except when you get to the kitchen wanting to cook something you drop your ingredients and swear loudly.
A/N: So, I dropped stuff in the kitchen swearing loudly while my love was in a call, and I’m always horny, so there we go. 
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It was almost lunch time, and you were waiting for your boyfriend to finish his video call before starting to eat. If you were honest, you were hoping it would be one of those lunch breaks, when he had a bit more time between the lectures and he would pay more attention to you. And what you needed.  
Tiptoeing around the room, always behind his desk, was an everyday thing and the both of you got used to it by now. Walking out to the kitchen a few minutes before the end of his call seemed like a nice idea, to prep the food for yourselves.  
Everything was almost ready when you grabbed the container for your pasta, the thin foil tearing in your hand, and the heavy package fell back to the counter. You tried to catch it, seeing everything that was happening in slow motion, but the pasta spilled on the ground, nonetheless. The noise was followed by long cursing from your side and an upset huff.  
It just hit you a second later that Tom was in the call, but it was already too late. He called out for you, muting himself in the process. Hoping he was just wondering if everything was alright, you poked your head in the room, seeing him sitting at his desk staring at you with raised brows, an unamused look on his face.  
‘Sorry.’ You mouthed with an anxious expression, fidgeting with your hands nervously.  
‘Pants off, darling.’ Tom bit his lips with a challenging smirk, trying to fight back a huge smile, his eyes giving your body a lustful once over.
He saw all of your hopes that you will get away with it disappearing as you stepped in the room, letting him watch you as you dropped your shorts to the ground.  
‘Good girl.’ The small purr and the proud smile on his lips gave you some hope for the later part of the day. When he returned his attention to the screen you walked out, back to the kitchen starting to gater the dry pasta from the ground.  
It didn’t take long, and you heard Tom saying goodbye to whoever he had a call with and standing up from his chair. At the same time, you were very aware of the wetness forming on your folds, eager anticipation bubbling in your chest and you pussy being covered only by the thin material of your panties.  
‘So, what happened?’ Tom crouched next to you, his fingers quickly picking up the small pieces from the ground.  
‘I dropped this sh-thing.’ Changing your wording looked like a smart idea.
‘Darling I feel like you have a very very dirty mouth today.’ Tom tutted cleaning up the last crumbs of the pasta with you.  
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to, it just fell. And it was supposed to be for lunch.’ The explanation was brief and honest, finished with a regretful sigh.  
‘I know. It’s ok, love.’ Tom reassured you and pulled you up from the ground. He pulled you to a hug and kissed your temple gently. ‘But I just can’t leave you running around with a dirty mouth like this.’ He whispered and gently pulled you when he leant against the counter.  
‘Yes, Sir.’  
‘Don’t worry, I won’t be too rough.’ He reassured you, looking you in the eye. ‘I’ll tell you what will happen.’ An eager nod from your end made him chuckle. ‘First, I'll fuck that dirty mouth of yours, it might help to clean it a bit. That will get you nice and wet for me, maybe soaking your panties a little too, so when I tell you to stop, you will get up and grind that pretty pussy on my cock, teasing yourself, but not coming of course.’
With a pleading look you let him gently push you down to kneel in front of him, your hands resting on your thighs, waiting. Tom undid his pants and pushed them down a little pulling his cock free, giving himself a few strokes.  
‘So eager.’ He commented when he saw you swallowing hard and licking your lips, waiting for his soft tip to touch your lips. ‘Open up.’ Tom’s voice was clear but gentle. His fingers were holding his cock by the base of his hard on. You did as he told, sticking your tongue out, earning a smug smile. He shifted a little to get closer and tapped his cock on your wet tongue, moving it around, coating his velvety tip with your spit. He took his time testing your limits seeing if you could hold still and not giving into the temptation to lick him without permission.  
The wet sounds filled the room when he gave small, gentle slaps on your tongue with his cock. ‘Now, close it, and start sucking.’ He guided you, still holding his own cock as a clear sign to keep your hands to yourself.  
The previous noises were switched to the wet sounds of you sucking his cock, lips stretching around his thick shaft, head bobbing up and down to your own rhythm. His groans and deep sighs were a clear sign that you were making him feel good. ‘Stay still.’ He warned when you started to squirm involuntarily, feeling your slit getting soaked, starting to soak into your panties.  
Sucking and swallowing around him got easier and easier when your brain got slowly clouded with lust and you were beyond aroused. Your breaths come out in big puffs though your nose as you prepared yourself to push further and let him slide into your throat. Tom cursed and you swallowed around him causing you to gag slightly. He hissed at the feeling and his hand let go of his cock, softly sliding forward to hold your head. ‘Now stay still, baby girl, and look at me, I’ll fuck that dirty mouth of yours.’  
Turning your eyes up to look at him was more difficult as you thought, he started to rock your head back and forward gently first, moving you until only his tip was between your lips then he pushed back not forcing you to deepthroat him yet. ‘So good for me, shit.’
He held your head and started to really fuck your mouth then, moving in and out, making you gag around him, your saliva coating him generously, the rest dripping down on your chin. His pace was still not too fast, you could keep your throat relaxed enough for him, even if the slight burn starting in your jaw made it more and more difficult.  
‘Look at you, fuck.’ Tom cursed, his muscles flexing as he pushed himself until he hit the back of your throat, keeping you there until the last second you could keep it together without starting to gag and gasp for air. ‘Letting me fuck that dirty little mouth of yours, being a good little cock slut for me.’ Seemingly he got lost in it more and more his words slurring and breaking with soft moans, his peace picking up. ‘Gotta fuck all the bad words out of it.’ Now your jaw was properly burning, whole body trembling from the pent-up need and anticipation for him to finally touch you. ‘So good, darling, so good for me.’  
You moaned and whimpered around him, closing your eyes, squeezing them, Tom testing your limits. It only lasted for a few seconds before he slowed down and eventually stopped. ‘Good girl, took it all so good.’ Tom praised you, his words causing a shiver going down on your spine and settling between your legs, making you throb and clench around nothing.  
‘Open your mouth baby girl.’ Tom pulled his cock between your spent lips, and let you take your time to find that movement. ‘Tongue out.’ You did as he asked, and he placed his cock back to your tongue. ‘I could cum just like this, spilling onto your tongue and pretty tits, but I know you’ll have a call soon, and I want you to sit in front of your camera, like a good girl, with my cum in your panties.’  
Your eyes went wide the sound of your shock escaped your open mouth without any barrier. By the time you were over the realisation of what was coming he already had you standing, your back against the counter, your panties pushed down on your thighs.  
Tom looked at you, his eyebrows high, a teasing but proud look in his eyes. ‘What is this darling?’ He asked, his fingers touching the wet spot on your panties breaking the glistering line of arousal which connected it with your pussy.  
‘I need you so bad.’ You whispered as a weak explanation, head turning a little to hide how flustered you got.  
‘So easy for me.’ Tom stepped closer, gliding his cock between your folds without a warning. Your body jumped to the sudden sensation a loud moan falling from your lips. ‘So easy.’ Tom repeated himself as he started to fuck your folds, your arousal covering his cock in a second, making the sensation almost unbearably intense. ‘Look at you, just standing here, letting me do whatever.’ He leant down placing a gentle kiss to your sore lips. ‘Use your hands, love, keep my cock pressed to your needy cunt.’  
With a weak whimper you did so, a shudder running through you, as the friction just got so much stronger, just as you needed it. He was grinding into your pussy, his tip eagerly pushing into your entrance, but never really inside of you, testing your limits, making your tremble and whimper continuously. ‘So easy of me as always. I could slid into that empty little cunt and fuck you and you’d thank me for it, huh?’ Tom’s voice was husky, seducing you even more, having you completely at his mercy.  
‘Yes, Sir.’ The weak cry coming from you let him know just how desperate he got you already.  
‘Good girl.’
Tom kept moving, his thrusts becoming sloppy and less and less controlled, giving you more and more, his hot tip leaking, mixing his wetness with yours when he bumped into your clit making you see stars. Just before you could have gotten close he grabbed your hand and moved it from the way, guiding his tip inside of you with heavy pants, and the feeling of relief almost washed over you, but he stopped. With only his blunt cock head stretching you out he was franticly jerking of, moaning and praising you before he come. His hot, heavy load was shooting into you, filling up your pulsing, empty cunt.  
‘Fuck.’ Tom’s body finally relaxed, his hand gently milking his own cock, to empty himself completely inside of you. He pulled your panties back and pulled out, drops of his white release already painting your panties. ‘Look at you, wearing my cum in these pretty panties.’ You felt like you wanted to scream or cry with frustration in the state he left you, but a satisfied sigh betrayed you when he pulled the ruined fabric up and you felt the warm liquid spreading around your fucked out pussy. ‘Now, close your legs like a good girl, and if you behave, I’ll reward you tonight.’ Tom whispered onto your lips as he kissed you lazily, pulling your close, drawing shooting circles onto your hips.  
‘Thank you, Sir.’
Tagging:
@terrifictomholland, @we--are---not--afraid, @itstaskeen, @spideybrie,  @thegirlintheswivelchair @greenorangevioletgrass @squirrelsarescaryman, @duskholland, @sinisterspidey, @tomsrebeleyebrow, @hazofmyheart @worldoftom, @augustholland , @dreamsarecloserwithyou @frenchfrostpudding
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taleasnewastime · 3 years ago
Text
The Gladstone
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Summary: One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin.
Pairing: Jungkook x reader
Genre: Strangers to lovers; night out/pub crawl
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Heavy drinking, Jimin and Jin are still annoying.
Authors Note: Another day, another part. I hope you’re enjoying the series so far.
Series Masterlist
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You’re pretty confident Jin is trying to kill you. He’s at least out for someone in the group. No sane person would make you drink a cocktail after having already downed a pint and a gin and tonic. Someone is undoubtedly going to get some form of alcohol poisoning tonight.
You sit staring at the list of cocktails, that at least could play in your favour, getting to choose the cocktail. The only problem is you’re not really sure which cocktail is be better. You could have a Tom Collins, small (ish) but still strong, or maybe something like a woo woo, possibly too sweet to down though. You’re ruling out anything creamy that’s for sure.
“If I get a pornstar, but do the prosecco shot separately to the other bit, does that count as two sips?”
“What do you think Tae?” Jin doesn’t even look away from his menu as he speaks.
“Well it’s unfair if my drink is two separate drinks.”
“You know you’re supposed to pour the prosecco into the cocktail.”
“Why wouldn’t it come already mixed if you were supposed to do that?”
“You know,” Jimin cuts in. “I once went to a cocktail making class –”
“Of course you did,” Jin rolls his eyes.
“And the guy said that the prosecco was there to cleanse the pallet before having the actual cocktail,” Jimin carries on as if uninterrupted.
“So really, that means it would be unfair to penalise me,” Taehyung nods, satisfied.
“You know,” you speak up before Jin can snap the words clearly on his lips. “Tae’s so high on points it really doesn’t matter.”
Taehyung doesn’t look offended by the statement, whereas Jin shoots you and unamused look, the comment clearly wasn’t as helpful as you thought it might be.
“Why is he even bothering to fight about it then,” Jin mumbles into his menu.
“You know, I think I might go for a martini,” Mary cuts in.
“I was thinking pina colada,” Jin says.
“Pina colada?” Diana shakes her head at the words.
“Go on then, I’ll go for a martini too,” you say, placing your menu on the table. It may be basically a shot of alcohol, but that’s the point, it’s small with no ice, so hopefully it will be easier to down. At least it will be better than a pina colada.
“That’s that then,” Jimin says. “I think it’s your round Jin.”
There’s, of course, a small grumble from Jin. But the smile is back on his face by the time he’s stood up.
“Don’t do anything fun without me,” he says before he heads to the bar.
“So,” Jimin turns to you the minute Jin’s out of ear shot. “Did that guy manage to catch you at the last pub? Oh my god, is that why you took so long in there? Did he find you in the toilet? And like, do some sexy, hot, bad guy thing and push you against –”
“Who are you on about?” You cut him off before your face reaches boiling point.
Jimin doesn’t answer you. The smile on his face drops, his eyes narrow and you’re surprised he doesn’t cross his arms. He’s not impressed you’re playing dumb and ruining all his fun.
“Ok, so I know who you’re on about,” you backtrack. “But he didn’t push me against the bathroom door and do whatever it is you were implying.”
“The hallway wall?” Taehyung pipes in.
You think you might die of embarrassment, right here, in this spot, before you even get your cocktail. Before you can even sputter your way through a response to Taehyung though, Jimin saves you, thankfully oblivious to your flustered state.
“As soon as he saw us sitting here, I could see he was looking for you.”
“I doubt that,” you mumble.
“And when he couldn’t see you,” Jimin carries on as if you haven’t spoken. “He oh so conveniently needed the toilet.”
“He probably just needed the loo and was looking around for where they were. His eye just passed over you, maybe he lingered because he recognised you from the King and Queen, and then oh, he saw where the toilets were so off he went.”
There’s a pause and then Jimin says, “yeah, that’s definitely not what happened.”
You roll your eyes. There was no stopping Jimin when he got something in his head.
“Well, if it’s he’s so enraptured by me, where is he?” You gesture around the pub. “Surely he would have followed me here if he wanted me so bad?”
The door to the pub opens just as you finish talking and you whip your head in the direction so quickly you’re surprised you don’t crick your neck. A couple walk through the door, not the man nor anyone he was with tonight. How embarrassing would it have been if he walked in after that speech?
When you turn back to Jimin, the cheeky, knowing smile is on his face.
“What’s his name?”
“I have no idea Jimin. I don’t know him. He doesn’t know me.”
“But you did see to him, right?”
“He may have been in the hallway when I left the toilet.”
“And he said hi?”
You work your jaw, you really don’t want to be talking about this, hate that everyone is looking at you, hanging onto every word.
“I spoke to him because I crashed into him, but only because he was stood too close to the toilet door. It was a minute exchange if that. We didn’t introduce ourselves, he didn’t push me up against the wall and do whatever it is you’re imagining right now, he just said hi and bye.”
A slight exaggeration. A dumbing down of what actually happened, but a necessity if your sanity was going to stay intact. Jimin, and the rest of them for that matter, didn’t need to know second by second what happened. And as you’d pointed out earlier, he hadn’t followed you here, wasn’t following you around like a creep. You probably won’t even see him again tonight, so what’s the point of talking about it?
“OK,” Jimin sounds a tad dejected, maybe you’d said the previous words a little too harshly. “I just thought he was cute. And you know, if he was into you, what’s the harm?”
You roll your eyes and look away from him, focus instead on Jin stood at the bar animatedly ordering your drinks. The other’s don’t say anything, but there must be some sort of silent exchange between them as then Mary’s talking.
“We’re just saying, we want you to be happy.”
“With some guy I don’t know?” You ask, turning back to look at them. “No offence, but a one-night stand really isn’t my thing.”
“None taken,” Taehyung says and Jimin shrugs.
“There’s no shame in it though,” Diana points out.
“I really don’t know why you guys are so attached to this idea.”
“It’s just been a while since we’ve seen you with anyone is all,” Mary says.
“I don’t need anyone to be happy. I can be alone and still happy. Plus, I have you guys.”
“Sure,” Jimin is quick to jump in. “We’re not saying that. We just want you to know that it’s also ok to want the opposite.”
Jesus, was this an intervention you weren’t aware of? You had no idea any of them felt this way. But then, in some ways they weren’t wrong. While it is true you’re not lonely, it’s also true that you’ve not be entirely happy of that fact. Not when everyone of your friends seems to have someone else in their lives.
While Jimin and Taehyungs may not last as long as Mary, Diana’s and Jin’s, they still have relationships you don’t.
You just hadn’t realised your feelings on the fact had been so obvious to them.
“I’m fine guys, honestly.”
Jimin wraps an arm around you, pulls you into him much like he did in The King and Queens. He places a light kiss against your temple before pulling away.
“We know,” he says. “But seriously, that guy is hot and he was totally eye fucking you.”
You laugh and push Jimin off you. He really knows how to ruin a moment.
You smile at your friends, they’re an odd bunch, but they mean well. Even if they pick strange times to get their feelings out. It was nice. And maybe they aren’t wrong, there really is nothing wrong with a one night stand.
But you really doubt you’ll see that man again, the chance in this city, full of pub and clubs is slim. And even if you do, he didn’t seem that into you in your opinion. He seemed a bit cold and scary in the hallway, probably not someone you’d want to bring back to your flat.
Jin comes back with a tray full of varying cocktails.
“Phew,” he sighs as he starts to dish out the drinks. “The barman was really not happy he had to make all of these. Anyway, did I miss anything exciting?”
You smile at him as you accept your drink. “Nope, nothing at all.”
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bunnygirlkate · 3 years ago
Text
Truth or Dare: Tokoyami x reader
Genre: Fluff (but with sexually suggestive themes)
~1.9k words
Setting: you're in the UA dorms with the rest of your classmates just hanging around, watching videos, playing cards, etc. It's after dinner but too early for bed.
"Guuuyysss! I'm so boorrreeddd" groans Mina. I wanna play a game, something we can all play!
"I'm down for a game, what should we play?" asks Sero. "How about truth or dare?" says Mineta, with an eyebrow raised and that annoying sexually suggestive tone in his voice. Tsu, Ochaco, and Jiro scoff at him, knowing he's thinking something perverted. "Actually… that’s not a bad idea, it could be fun" Mina says. Mineta nods and smirks. He's about to say something but Ochaco jumps in first:
"I’m fine with that, but only if we play a pg-13 version…". 
Everyone in the common area shrugs in agreement, with the exception of Mineta who looks defeated.
 "I'm not usually one to take part in such social games, however, I've got nothing better to do since Shoji and I ran out of card games. I shall join just this once" says Tokoyami.
You like the idea of playing truth or dare, but you're a little nervous. You have a secret crush on Tokoyami. You two have been in the same class for a while but it wasn’t until recently that you started developing a crush on him after you two were paired up for an assignment. To avoid any awkwardness, you try to hide your feelings from him and your other classmates. You're afraid of someone asking you a truth or daring you to do something that would make you look foolish in front of him. Nevertheless, you join the circle with your classmates to play the game. Since there was so many of you (pretty much the whole class), the circle was fairly big.
"Alright" Mina says, clapping her hands together once to get everyone's attention. "Here's how we'll do this… I'll be the host, which means that I'll be asking the questions or giving out dares, but you're welcome to speak up if you come up with a really good truth or dare for someone. Once you receive your truth or dare, you must go through with it! No changing your mind or chickening out! And as Ochaco said before, everything has to be pg-13." Everyone glares at Mineta and Denki who are sitting next to each other in the circle, quietly plotting loopholes through the pg-13 rule. Everyone then nods in agreement to the rules.
Mina goes around the circle asking each person "Truth or Dare" first is Ochaco. She picks truth and Mina asks her who she thinks has the lamest quirk in the class. She's reluctant to respond in fear of hurting anyone's feelings, but eventually she reveals that she thinks Aoyama's quirk is the lamest. Mina quickly goes through Hagakure, Momo, Iida, and Jiro, who all pick truth. She gets to Denki and he's the first to be brave enough to pick dare. Before Mina can talk. Jiro asks her if she can offer the dare.
"Denki, I dare you to… charge my phone!" everyone laughs while Denki, looking very unamused, takes her phone and cord to charge it.
Bakugo is next and of course he picks dare. Instead of making him do something stupid, Mina dares him to 'smile like he means it'. Bakugo is irritated by the boring request and gives a sheepish, forced smile. "Jeez dude, is like you’ve never smiled before…" says Denki, with the phone cord still in his mouth. "shut up, phone charger! I know how to smile! … I just don’t want to". Responds Bakugo, muttering under his breath toward the end. Everyone lets out a soft chuckle.
Its Shoto's turn now and he chooses truth. Again, another student besides Mina offers up a question. 
"I got one for ya, Todoroki" says Denki. "you have to answer honestly. I'm sure we've all been wondering this… do the curtains match the drapes?"
"Hey! That’s not pg-13" yells Mina.
"It’s not like I’m asking him to show us!" says Denki! "It’s just a yes or no question." he smirks. 
"Fine, I'll allow it" says Mina as she crosses her arms.
Shoto stares at Denki for a few moments then responds "I don’t think I understand the question" 
"I believe he is asking about the interior design of your home." says Iida.
"No man, he's asking if the color of your pubes matches the hair on your head" explains Kirishima. 
Shoto blushes slightly and looks down to the floor. "I don’t know why you'd want to know that, but since I'm required to respond truthfully… my pubic hair is mostly white… I think there's a few strands of red hair" he says, still looking at the floor and rubbing his neck with his hand. 
"That was a bit more truth then I was asking for, but okay!" says Denki. 
Shoto looks around the circle to see averted eyes and slightly blushed cheeks (mostly from the girls).
-----------------------------------------
Mina goes through a few more classmates before she gets to you. "Truth or Dare, Y/N?" 
"I'll try a dare" you say, after seeing that the previous dares weren't so bad and the truths were getting a bit to invasive for you.
"Sure thing, but I gotta be honest, I’m getting bored of my own prompts" Mina says, throwing in a fake a yawn. "I'm gonna give you something a little more…interesting." she says with a devilish look on her face as she stares you right in the eyes. 
Your brow starts to sweat as you become anxious at what she may ask you to do. "Y/N, I dare you… to kiss . your. crush. " she says, spacing out the words and saying them in a slightly melodic fashion.
Your face turns beet red as you realize, not only is she asking you to kiss someone (let along the person you like!), but she's also asking you to reveal your feelings to him and everyone watching. You look at her, your mouth open in surprise. 
"You have to do it! It’s in the rules!" Mina says. 
You look down at your lap, still beet red. "I know, I know" you respond. 
You pick your head up and purposely avoid eye contact with Tokoyami, who is sitting across from you in the circle. You and your classmates sat there in silence as you tried to figure out how you were going to do this in a way that was least awkward as possible. 
You finally say "Okay, I’ll do it. But I need everyone to close their eyes, actually, cover them with your hands too so I know nobody’s peeking. While your eyes are closed I'll walk over to the person and sit in front of them. Then I'll tell you when you can look… and that’s when I'll… kiss them…". 
You look around and everyone expresses understanding in some way. Some nod, some give a thumbs up, some say ok. You make sure everyone's eyes are covered. Before you stand up to make your way over to him, you look at Tokoyami covering his eyes with both hands, sitting cross legged, slightly slouched over. So many thoughts rush through your mind as you admire him from afar.
'I can’t believe I’m about to do this. He’s so cute. How do I kiss a beak? What if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks it’s weird that I have a crush on him!? Oh my god I can’t do this. Ugh. No. I just have to get this over with'
You finally stand up, making your way over to Tokoyami slowly and quietly so that your classmates can’t use their other senses to try and guess where you are. You quietly sit down in front of him, trying to keep your breathing light so he doesn’t sense you're there until your ready. You look at him with his eyes still covered, admiring his appearance up close. You want him to know you're there before everyone else sees. So before you tell everyone to open their eyes, you gently reach up to touch his hands that are resting on his face. His hands twitch slightly, probably because he's surprised that his hands are being touched, or surprised that your sitting in front of him. 
You take his hands into yours and move them away from his face. He opens his eyes, blinking a few times, his beak slightly gaped open. He looks you in the eyes, they're wide with surprise. Your face is still red, but you offer him a small smile. 
"Ok, you all can open your eyes now" you say.
Everyone eagerly looks toward the direction of your voice. Some look surprised, others express a mix of joy and awe. "I knew it!" Mina exclaimed. 
'So this was just a set up, huh?' You think to yourself. 
Tokoyami clears his throat "Y/N, you must be mistaken, I think you’ve got the wrong person…" he says. A bit of confidence flowed through you as you said
"No, I think I've got just the right guy.”
Someone in the circle begins chanting. "kiss, kiss, kiss!" Your eyes meet his again, silently asking for consent. Tokoyami nods to express consent, though still looking surprised. Your hand reaches up to caress and hold underneath of his beak (where his chin would be). As your face moves closer and closer to his, you both close your eyes, and you plant a firm yet gentle kiss on the tip of his beak. It was a bit more then than a peck, lasting about 3 seconds. Everyone cheers.
You end the kiss and take your hand away from his face. Tokoyami looks a bit flustered, its difficult to see him blushing, but you notice that the base of his beak is a bit brighter and slightly more orange. "I'm truly honored, Y/N" Tokoyami says in his deep voice. You give him another small smile, then make your way back to you empty spot on the other side of the circle.
The game goes on, you and Tokoyami share glances every now and then as other students answer their truths or perform their dares. Once Tokoyami's turn came around, he chose truth. 
"Tell us Tokoyami, who do you have a crush on?" asks Mina.
You were partially excited for him to say he has a crush on you, but you were also prepared to have your heart broken. There were so many other people at this school, he could have a crush on any one of them, and you two only had one true close interaction a few weeks ago.
"Well…" Tokoyami started "I'm not really the type to possess a crush on someone, but ever since I got to this school there's someone I've had my sights on". 
You listen with anticipation as he drags out his answer.
"and now I've realized that the feeling is mutual". He says, finishing his statement and giving you a short and flustered glance. 
Your heart filled with joy, although he didn’t directly answer the question by saying your name, you know he was talking about you. Many others in the circle didn’t understand, thus sitting in silence and confusion. Suddenly, Dark Shadow pops out and yells "He likes Y/N!" the class cheers for both of you again as you sit on opposite sides of the circle looking equally happy and embarrassed.
Authors Note: This is my first time writing anything like this, actually my first time writing fiction! I hope it’s acceptable.you can give feedback if you’d like.
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starsfic · 3 years ago
Note
Spicynoodles mixed with Freenoodles? MK has started to date Red for a little while- And Pigsy is just being concerned but Tang is there reassuring him "MK knows what he is doing Pigsy- Besides we were young once to ya know? let the kids have some fun"
"Pigsy, stop glaring."
"I'm not glaring," the chef said automatically. Tang gave him an unamused look and he snorted back. Okay, maybe he was glaring a little bit.
Outside the shop was a fancy red car. Red Son leaned against the driver's door, playing on his phone. Normally, it would be hard to ignore him. But the new, subtle additions of orange and blue in his fancy outfit made it even harder. Footsteps upstairs made Pigsy look away.
"I'll be back!" Xiaotian said, dressed in his own fancy outfit, with slight tinges of red running through. He bounded out before Pigsy could reply.
Red looked up. Pigsy found himself gritting his teeth even harder as the prince took his son's hand with a "You look handsome today, my love." Then he pressed a kiss to his knuckles, a smirk forming at Xiaotian's flustered little giggle. It was all very romantic and such.
Pigsy hated it.
He had never chalked himself up to be a protective father. Then he and Tang had brought in a handsome young man and his nightmares started to be haunted by said youth in ripped clothes, crying in a dark alley beneath an uncaring attacker. What had once been horrible things that happened to others became very real and very close.
Thankfully Xiaotian hadn't shown interest in dating, staying close to the shop, or Xiaojiao's fierce protective aura.
And then Lady Bone Demon had happened and then Red Son had joined and...
An arm wrapped around him. "Pigsy," Tang's voice said gently, breaking him from his thoughts. The pig glanced back. The scholar stared back steadily. "Quit it."
"But-"
"Xiaotian knows what he is doing Pigsy," Tang's smile returned. "Besides we were young once too, ya know?" Pigsy felt heat crawl into his cheeks at the reminder. "Let the kids have some fun."
"But..." Tang had a point. Xiaotian wasn't helpless. Pigsy sighed, relaxing a touch. "Alright."
He could relax.
For a little while.
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e-milieeee · 4 years ago
Text
hey cutea
Summary: In which Marinette brings Adrien to a bubble tea shop only to witness him order the most unappetizing flavour on the menu.
All’s well until Chat Noir does the exact same, and Ladybug makes an unsuspecting connection.
Tikki is also very unamused. If only they’d stop dancing around each other.
Notes: a month of procrastinating, the boba reveal,,, is finally here for day 1: cafe of @auyeahaugust! also for @buggachat because kelly started this with a drawing of an adrienette boba date and i spiralled :’) 
Word Count: 6.2k
AO3
The shop is called Thirstea, a pun which makes Adrien laugh for a whole thirty seconds as he stares at the storefront.
“Seriously,” Marinette is saying as he pushes the door open for her. “You’ve seriously never had boba? At all?”
Adrien shifts his backpack. He’s hit with the smell of something sweet—foreign, as well, but it’s pleasant enough—and the sight of a bustling interior. A small line has already formed, so Marinette tugs him aside and points at the large menu displayed on a colorful board behind the cashier.
“You can decide on which flavour you want,” she tells him.
Adrien peers up at the board. There’s so many to choose from—hundreds, even—from milk tea to fruit tea to mixed flavours and smoothies and…
His head is spinning when he turns back to Marinette. “Do you have any recommendations?” Because I have absolutely no clue. “What do you usually get?”
She tilts her head. “I have five go-tos. Roasted milk tea is a classic, but the honeydew milk tea is pretty good as well if I want something fruity. If I want something lighter, I’ll get a fruit tea—I like lychee black tea. Uh… there’s also the real fruit bobas, and I usually get taro. Oh! And the matcha latte is one of their best. And I usually get it with tapioca, but if you want to be healthier, grass jelly or aloe vera both taste pretty good. But I mean, it is your first time here and you should probably try getting tapioca just to see if you like it. And brown sugar milk tea, but they said they ran out today…”
The words go in one ear and out another, because Adrien is too busy staring at the way she talks: enthusiasm shining in her eyes, the way she waves her hands in the smallest, cutest gestures to make her point, and…
“Adrien?” Marinette tilts her head. “Um, have you decided? Or do you need more time? Because that’s completely alright too.”
In a panic, he nods and blurts, “I’ve decided!”
She nods sagely, and they enter the line. Adrien has not yet in fact decided.
He continues to stare at the menu from the corner of his eyes, going through all the categories until he settles on real fruit smoothie. Adrien goes through the list: watermelon, strawberry, mango, peach, blueberry, raspberry, winter melon—
“What would you like to order?”
Adrien snaps back into reality. He is not ready to order.
Oblivious to his conundrum, Marinette smiles at the cashier and fetches her wallet out of her backup. “I’m paying for us both!” she tells the girl cheerily. “I’ll have a peach green tea with half ice and thirty percent sugar. With tapioca.”
Adrien gawks at her order. She’d lost him after peach green tea—is he supposed to order like that too?
“Adrien?” Marinette prompts, now waiting for the order that he does not have.
He squints at the menu again, hoping his panic isn’t visible on his face. He scans them. Watermelon. Strawberry. Mango. Peach. Blueberry. Raspberry. Winter melon. Durian.
Durian.
“Durian,” he settles.
Marinette’s mouth quite literally drops open.
He’s not too certain what’s that surprising about his order—is it the wrong thing to order? Perhaps it doesn’t exist on the menu and he’d hallucinated it. A double-check later and the word is still clearly imprinted underneath winter melon. “Marinette?” Adrien asks carefully. “Um, I’m not too sure about the sugar and ice—which do you usually choose?”
She finally snaps her mouth shut.  “Durian?” Marinette echoes at last, ignoring his question.“Ah, are you certain about that?”
Adrien nods. “I can still add the pearls—the tapioca in, right?”
“Yeah,” she agrees absentmindedly, “but—durian?”
Adrien takes another peek at the menu. “The real fruit smoothie, right?”
“Have you… tried durian?” “When I was younger, once. Have you?”
Marinette swallows, and Adrien waits for her verdict, concerned. He’s honestly baffled why she’s so confused about his choice, but a moment later, Marinette squares her shoulders and gives the cashier a smile, this time slightly shaky. “And a durian smoothie with tapioca for him. Um, sugar and ice levels?”
Adrien has no clue what to ask for, so he tries, “The standard one for both...?”
Apparently that’s an acceptable answer because the cashier nods and jots down his order on a small notepad. Marinette pays, and they wait at the side for their order.
Marinette has gone quiet. She sorts through her bag for a little while, and Adrien waits in apprehensive silence. There’s quiet jazz music playing in the background and it makes him feel like he’s in an elevator. It’s becoming unbearably awkward.
Finally, Marinette lifts her eyes to look at him. “Sorry about that,” she apologizes. “I just… didn’t know you liked durian.”
“Oh.” He sounds equally awkward. “I liked the fruit the last time I had it which was about two years ago. Do you not like it?”
Her nose wrinkles. It’s cute. Wait, what?
“My mom really likes durian,” Marinette is explaining, and she motions with her hands again. “Apparently her hometown back in China had a dessert store that sold durian pastries and she had this brilliant idea of making them for Chinese New Year a couple months ago and the whole bakery reeked of durian and I could smell it all the way up into my room—” She clamps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I forgot you liked it.”
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” he replies, flustered. Marinette has a habit of saying a lot in very little time and it doesn’t help that he gets easily distracted by her movements. “I didn’t realize durian was so… controversial. I hope it won’t make you uncomfortable or something with the smell.”
“I guess it’s not that popular here,” she replies with a shrug. “But my mom did say that people either hate or love durian. And the smell’s fine. I don’t like it, but once you spend a week with it stinking up your room, you kind of develop immunity.”
Just then, the waitress behind the counter sets down their two drinks. “For Marinette?” she calls.
Marinette takes the bag with a quick thank you, grabs two straws, and then returns to Adrien. She holds up their drinks.
Adrien takes the cup from her extended hand. The durian smoothie is a creamy white, and the black tapioca bubbles sit at the very bottom. He follows her movements as she shakes her cup then stabs a straw into it.
He can see Marinette eying him in his periphery as he raises the straw to his lips and takes a sip. The drink is cold and sweet and has a rich taste that explodes on his tongue in a plethora of flavours, and Adrien decides he likes it. He really likes it.
“So?” Marinette asks. Adrien wonders if she knows how skeptical her expression is. “Do you… like it?”
He chews on one of the pieces of tapioca. “Yes. Yeah, this is really great.”
The skepticism doesn’t disappear from her face, but she raises her boba to his. “Cheers,” Marinette says weakly.
***
On a good day, a cup of boba has two hundred fifty calories when the tapioca is replaced by grass jelly and the sugar level is brought to less than half. On a bad day, if her sweet tooth demands regular sweetness and tapioca, it can be driven up to seven hundred calories.
It’s why Marinette has begrudgingly limited herself—for the sake of her wallet and health—to only drink boba once a week.
And it’s why she and Chat Noir, decked in hoodies and track pants in an attempt to look normal, are lined up underneath the blazing sun at Thirstea.
Their disguises don’t do much, because a crowd has formed around them. First there are whispers of is that Ladybug and Chat Noir, then a girl summons up her courage to ask for a selfie, and finally, the press starts driving in. By the time that happens, they have luckily made it inside the shop, where the air-conditioning blasts out on the highest setting.
Another snap of the camera. Chat Noir is staring pensively at the menu when a thought hits Ladybug. “Have you ever had boba before?” she asks him.
He nods absentmindedly, still looking. Everyone in line is whispering or peering at them, and Ladybug sees a phone held up in the back, most likely recording.
They make it to the counter when Nadja Chamack and her team, armed with cameras and microphones, invades the shop. The girl at the register looks slightly overwhelmed and a little alarmed, but she doesn’t tell the press to leave.
“Ladybug!” Nadja calls. “You’ve been photographed once or twice coming to this shop in the past month—is this your favourite bubble tea shop?”
“Yup!” she replies.
“What’s your go-to order?”
“Depends on the day.” Ladybug turns back to the cashier, leaving Chat to deal with the press. He has the uncanny ability to drag on a brief topic for an unsolicitedly long amount of time. “I’ll have an original milk tea with tapioca,” she tells the cashier. “Regular ice and seventy percent sugar.”
The girl looks a little starstruck, but she jots down the order. With a tug on Chat’s tail, he turns around from entertaining the press to place his own order.
“One durian smoothie, please!” he chirps, chipper as always.
Ladybug chokes on air.
The girl taking their order also seems taken aback, but her recovery time is much quicker than Ladybug’s. Instead, offering him a quick, slightly strained smile, she jots his order down. “Is that all, then?”
Chat takes the chance to pay for both of their orders while she’s caught in her confusion. By the time Ladybug snaps back to her senses, it’s too late—Chat is already pulling aside to wait for their bobas to finish. Nadja and her crew take the chance to start their questions again.
“Chat Noir,” Nadja addresses when it’s clear Ladybug’s still out of commission. “If I heard you right, you chose a durian smoothie?”
He gives a nod so proud that Ladybug swears she dies a little inside.
“Could you tell us why? From what I know, durian is a well-debated fruit. Many people love it, but many also cannot stand the smell.”
Chat ponders the question thoughtfully. “The smell is rather funny,” he finally replies. “But I like the flavour! It has a very rich texture as well, and tastes pretty different from the smell, so it doesn’t actually taste bad.”
“Ladybug?” Nadja gestures for the cameras to face her. “What are your thoughts on durian?”
She’s too busy thinking about Adrien Agreste raising his cup of boba to bump against hers—a durian smoothie—and his casual enthusiasm for the fruit that Nadja’s words don’t even click in her brain. Who would’ve expected Chat Noir to have the same (terrible) taste as her crush? The coincidence leaves her feeling disjointed.
“Uh… Ladybug?” Chat waves his hand in front of her. “Are you okay?”
She finally snaps out of her reverie long enough to scramble for a response. Ladybug manages a sheepish smile in Nadja’s direction. “I’m doing fine, thank you.”
Chat frowns. “Ladybug, that wasn’t her question—”
Before either of them can say anything more, the girl making the drinks pops her head out from the counter. “Your drinks!” she says, then beams at both of them. “Here’s a buy-one-get-one free coupon! Please come by often!”
Chat’s eyes glimmer when he accepts his durian smoothie. Ladybug takes her own with much less enthusiasm. Focus is hard enough with the snap of Nadja’s cameras and the chaos all around them—the fact that an even larger crowd has gathered outside Thirstea in order to catch a glimpse of their favourite superheroes makes it worse. It’s all too much to take in, and Ladybug’s brain is still stuck on Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir and durian smoothies.
“We’re going to take off,” Chat tells Nadja, then waves at the camera. “See you guys around! Come on, LB.”
She allows him to drag her out of the store, then with a flick of his baton and a snap of her yo-yo they’re swinging off, bobas in hand and the rest of Paris watching them go.
But Ladybug isn’t thinking about them at all.
When they finally settle down somewhere secluded, Chat immediately stabs his straw through the top of his drink and takes an obnoxiously loud slurp. Ladybug can smell the scent of durian from where she’s sitting, and instinctively, she wrinkles her nose and shifts away. She pokes her straw into her own drink, still staring off at the distance.
A coincidence, yeah. Her crush and her partner both have awful taste in bubble tea flavours. It’s nothing but a coincidence.
“Are you going to drink yours?” Chat is asking, still slurping obliviously. “I wanna try your flavour.”
He makes a grab for her drink, and Ladybug ducks away. “Your breath smells like durian. You can’t drink from my straw.”
“Hey! Let me try!”
For a little while Chat wrestles for her drink, nearly spilling his own in the process. In the end he snatches out from her fingers, laughing raucously. Ladybug is giggling as well, forgetting about her predicament for the moment. This is what she’s used to; their routine of banter and playfulness that’s easy—it’s straightforward. Not confusing.
That snaps her right back to the problem. Chat sips her drink, smacking his lips in a purposefully annoying way, and makes his verdict. “Not bad. I like mine better. Wanna try?”
Ladybug shakes her head and reclaims her drink. As casually as possible, she asks, “Do you get boba often?”
“Mm, no. This is actually the second time I’ve gotten the drink.” He swirls his straw around. “Honestly, with all the percentages you give for the sugar and the ice, I’m not too sure what to say. My friend took me to get boba a little while ago, so…durian is actually the only flavour I’ve ever tried.”
A casual dump of information, information that really wouldn’t have meant anything. It’s vague enough that any other person wouldn’t have made any sort of connection; it’s the information they often share between each other.
Except for the fact that she—Ladybug, Marinette—might be the friend in question. And Chat Noir—Chat Noir is…
She stares across the building, where an ad of Adrien, the Fragrance is displayed.
No way.
“Um,” Ladybug stammers. “Your friend took you out for boba because you’ve never had it before?”
He’s painfully oblivious to her panic. “Yeah, about a week ago. You know, it’s pretty funny because she had a similar reaction to you when I ordered the durian smoothie. Apparently she hates the smell too.”
“Your friend?” Ladybug echoes.
“Yeah, my friend. Are you okay, m’lady?”
Can’t really breathe properly, so I’m not really okay, but youcan’tknowandIdon’treallyknowwhat’sgoingonrightnow—
“I, um, just realized I have something to do,” Ladybug stammers out, because it’s the only thing she can think of saying. She flails, but somehow manages to get to her feet. “Uh—uh, do you want my milk tea? I can’t swing around very well if I’m holding it because it might get on my suit and my hair—oh my God, my hair! I got ice cream once and tried to eat it while going around Paris on my yo-yo and it went so badly and honestly I feel like the bubble tea will do the same so you can drink mine too since I can just get another one by myself soon but I really gotta run—”
She all but shoves the cup into his confused hands. It’s a whole miracle Chat doesn’t drop it then and there, just like it’s a miracle Ladybug hasn’t screamed or slipped up or promptly tripped over air and simply… lay there crying.
“Ladybug–” she hears him call, but it’s interrupted by the zing of her yo-yo.
She takes off as fast as possible.
Marinette has never been so hasty in detransforming, but as she slips through the rooftop back into her room, she’s already calling Tikki out before she touches down onto her bed. She slams onto pillows and the soft mattress in her regular clothing, buries her face into the nearest cushion, and screams.
She really doesn’t deserve Tikki’s patience, but her kwami stays beside her and pats her with tiny paws until Marinette’s throat is hoarse and she has more or less yelled the remaining cinders of her panic and confusion into her pillow.
When Marinette finally raises her head to look at Tikki, her kwami has her hands on her hips. “Well?” she asks. “I didn’t want to interrupt your breakdown, but now that you’re through, can you tell me what it’s about?”
Marinette thinks about the cup of boba and the boy she’d left back on the roof. Then the one that sits in front of her in class, with the same shade of blonde hair and emerald eyes, both ordering durian boba.
“I think Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste,” she tells Tikki weakly.
Tikki has a scarily-good poker face. “Have you now,” she replies with calmness Marinette is incapable of. “And why do you think so?”
“Because—because—because they both like durian!” It comes out as a distressed wail.
Tikki ponders the question. Then replies, “I see.”
It’s such an awfully vague response that Marinette is tempted to bury her face into her pillow to scream some more. But she doesn’t, instead pulling out her notebook from the stand and a pencil. “I’m going to draw a venn diagram,” she announces with newfound determination. “I might just be jumping to a conclusion too quickly. And—and there was that one time when Chat was there but Adrien was too, right? When Gorizilla attacked?”
“Right,” Tikki agrees. “But you also did a similar trick with Multimouse and the fox Miraculous, so…”
“Chat didn’t have the fox or mouse Miraculous. Anyway… they both have blonde hair and green eyes.”
She puts that in the similar column. She thinks about it for a couple seconds more, and writes “composed” in Adrien’s column and “a mess” in Chat’s.
“Oh, come on.” Tikki flits closer. “You know very well Adrien isn’t as composed as you make him out to be. The only reason you don’t recognize it is because you’re even worse around him.”
Marinette stubbornly keeps those two where they are, even if she knows deep down that Tikki is right. For a while, she goes on making her list, with Tikki criticizing almost every decision she makes. Adrien Agreste has neat hair, a polite smile, the best grades in class and manners that would woo anyone’s parents. Chat Noir’s hair is messy and untamed, his smile is almost always accompanied with a raucous laugh and shutting up isn’t in his vocabulary. He steals food and drinks and everything he can from her whenever she brings it.
She scribbles and erases and thinks and stresses, getting a week’s worth of confusion down and then some.
“Marinette,” Tikki finally advises when Marinette has run out of ink. “Why don’t you just ask Adrien tomorrow at school subtly about it? If he didn’t mind telling Ladybug he went out for boba with Marinette, he probably wouldn't have qualms telling Marinette about getting boba with Ladybug. It’s not as if your identities need to remain a secret anymore.”
Ask Adrien.
Ask Adrien.
Sure, they’re on good terms now. They’re friends. Marinette’s crush has faded into a more manageable level, and she can talk to him without her voice rising an octave higher than its usual key. She hasn’t tripped and fallen on her face in front of him for at least two weeks.
But this—with the possibility that Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir? To think she’d waxed poetic about Chat Noir to Tikki every night for months? It’s unspeakably insane to think about, and she doesn’t have the courage and probably never will but Marinette thinks she’s genuinely going to die if she doesn’t get closure—
“Okay,” she agrees at last, because it’s the only logical answer.
***
Adrien is the one who comes to find Marinette before she can go find him.
“Hey!” he calls from behind her.
In a quite frankly astonishing display of improvement, Marinette doesn’t scream or fall on her face, even if she does freeze for a good couple seconds too long.
“Uh… Marinette?” Adrien taps her shoulder. “I wanted to return the physics notes to you. You gave me your notebook from last time because I missed the class. Here.”
She takes the notes from him, movements stiff. A million words to say come piling from her throat, but they stick to the top of her mouth drily and none make it past her lips.
Adrien Agreste. Chat Noir. They’re the same person? How can they be the same person? Is it just a huge coincidence? Who is Chat Noir? Who am I, even?
Before she can work herself into more of a panic, Marinette gives him a forced smile, hugging her notebook to her chest. “Thanks!” she shrieks. “I gotta—I gotta run. See you around!”
She trips over air on her way out, face beetroot.
***
“Listen,” Tikki whispers to her, munching on her cookie as Marinette locks herself in a stall of the girls’ washroom. “You gotta do it. Just… just don’t think that he’s Adrien Agreste. I heard imagining people as potatoes helps with stage fright?”
Marinette lets out a distressed noise. “Stage fright isn’t my problem, though!”
“Adrien fright? If you ask me, it’s pretty similar. Anyway, just ask him if he’s had bubble tea recently or something! You don’t know until you try. It won’t be that bad. What’s the worst case scenario?”
“That you-know-who turns out to be you-know-who!”
“We did not decide on these codenames.”
“Yeah, but what if someone hears—”
Tikki interrupts her by giving her a little pinch. “Calm down, Marinette! It’ll be fine. Besides, is it really that big of a problem if it’s true?”
No, it isn’t. Marinette has thought long and hard about it last night, lying awake on her bed, unable to sleep because of the heat and turbulent thoughts and theories all mixing together. Would it be a bad thing, if Chat turned out to be Adrien? No—she could think of a thousand more worse people for Chat to be, and if she were to be perfectly honest, no better person than Adrien. But at the same time, it’s overwhelming in the strangest way: the sort that sends her heartbeat spiking, thoughts scattering, stomach turning in a not-quite-unpleasant way.
Marinette really doesn’t know what to think about it, and that’s the scariest part.
“Okay.” Tikki interrupts her train of thought. “We should probably get going before you’re late for class. If you hurry, you can probably ask Adrien about it before the bell goes off.”
Marinette steels her back. “Okay,” she grinds out with wavering determination. “Okay, I’m gonna do it.”
Tikki lets out a squeak of Attagirl! before diving back into her purse. Marinette marches out of the stall, down the hallway, and into the classroom.
She really hates the way her throat still closes up when she scans the room and her eyes land on Adrien. All of a sudden, she’s reverted to herself months ago, when her crush on him had reached its peak; when she’d been a jumble of frayed nerves and blabbering and hand motions violent enough to whack any bystander that wandered too close.
No, Marinette tells herself firmly. No freaking out. No stuttering. I’m past that.
“Adrien,” she calls, and he turns away from his conversation with Nino.
“Hey!” his smile is a thousand watts too bright. “We were just talking about you. Nino said he’s never tried boba as well.”
The word boba nearly has her choking on spit. “Cool,” Marinette manages out. “That’s very… cool.”
Nino’s eyebrows furrow. “You okay?”
“Fine! Th-that’s great you want to introduce Nino to boba as well! I’m glad to hear you liked the drink.”
Marinette’s well aware that she sounds like a buffering tape-recorder right now. She marches to her desk, sits down just as stiffly, and pinches herself on the arm, out of Adrien and Nino’s sight. Alya has yet to arrive—it’s now or never, Marinette knows. The longer she waits, the more nervous she’ll make herself, and the harder it’ll be. So…
“Adrien!” she blurts out again, voice too loud. Even Rose and Juleka leave their conversation briefly to glance at her.
He’s good-natured as ever when he turns to her, and Marinette is struck with another wave of trepidation. It’s all too sudden. It’s all too much. She takes a deep breath, mind turning to absolute mush, and somehow stammers out, “Have you gotten boba since that one time?”
She really can’t blame him for looking so confused at her question, but to Adrien’s credit, he regains his composure rather quickly. The bewilderment on his face quickly shifts to mild curiosity.
“Yeah,” he replies. “I actually went yesterday with a friend. Thank you for introducing me! I’ll probably go more often now if I find the time.”
Marinette’s mouth is dry. Her hands are sweaty. Her head feels like it’s going to explode. Her heart has moved to her throat and she’s positive that it’s going to stop beating any moment now.
“Oh.” It’s the only noise Marinette feels mentally capable of forming. Sentences are hard. Speaking is impossible. “Um, yesterday?”
“Yeah, it was pretty hot yesterday. I went to Thirstea, actually!” He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s the only boba shop I know at the moment so it doesn’t really mean anything, but… my friend who I went with really liked it too, so I think I’ll stick to Thirstea for now. Until I try all the flavours I want.”
Amidst her own confusion, Marinette somehow manages to think, if you wanted to try all the flavours you wanted why did you get durian again yesterday? It’s second nature: if the boy in front of her is Chat Noir—a fact that, despite the inconclusive results given by her venn diagram, is becoming more and more clear—then Marinette can’t help but want to tease him back.
Except if Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir and Chat Noir is Adrien… God. She’s just going in circles and getting nowhere closer to the final destination.
It doesn’t even hit Marinette that she hasn’t responded to Adrien and that’s why he’s staring at her so apprehensively. The shrill ringing of the bell startles all the class back into their seats, Adrien included, who shoots her a small smile before turning back around.
The rest of the period finds Marinette unable to pay the slightest bit attention. Mme. Bustier’s words travel in one ear, out the other, all muted static compared to the main problem at hand.
And a problem it is. She looks at Adrien’s golden head in front of her, imagining the flicker of black ears. If she reached down and mussed his hair up, it would look like Chat’s. They’re the same height too, to think of it. All the differences she had listed on her venn diagram seem to melt away, until Marinette is faced with one terrible, wonderful, conclusion.
***
She doesn’t confront Adrien about anything after the first period ends, nor does she at lunch, nor after. It’s too overwhelming to think of, but it hardly seems fair to keep him in the dark. When she asks Tikki to confirm at lunch, the only thing her kwami does is shrug with an indecipherable expression on her face—Marinette takes it as a verification.
But it’s a different story after school. By then, Marinette has made up her mind.
Her first stop is Thirstea. It’s not as sweltering as it were the day before, even if she has to wipe the sweat from her forehead after waiting fifteen minutes outside. The store isn’t as bustling now that Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t there, so Marinette takes advantage of the peace to calm her thoughts. They have patrol in thirty minutes; she has thirty minutes to gather her thoughts and figure out how she’s going to come through with this. But is thirty minutes really going to help? She’s had the whole day alone to her thoughts, and, like it or not, she’s barely gotten anywhere.
When she finally gets her order—a fruit tea for herself, a durian smoothie for Chat Noir—Adrien Agreste—there’s only twenty three minutes to go.
Marinette transforms into Ladybug, hidden in an alley, and goes to wait for her partner to show up on the rooftop they agreed to. Then, once she’s reached the rooftop, she calls off her transformation.
The boba is still cold in her bag, so she wraps her hand around them to fend off the blistering heat from the sun. It’s uncomfortable, waiting like this, but physical discomfort is still better than working up a storm in her own thoughts, which Marinette is trying to distance herself from. They come in waves of stress, anxiousness, uncertainty, and fear. But she has to do this.
Her mood must’ve been evident enough for Tikki to feel, even though her kwami has slipped inside her purse to give her thoughts some space. She pokes her head out.
“Marinette,” Tikki says, a hint of concern in her tone. “You don’t have to do this now if you’re not ready, you know. Chat Noir will understand.”
Marinette, having resorted to biting her nails—she must be really nervous, because that’s a habit she’d gotten rid of years ago—shakes her head. “I can’t keep pushing it back. It’s one thing not revealing each other’s identities, but now that I know… I can’t just… not tell him. It’s not possibly fair, not when he’s waited for so long.”
“...are you happy that it’s Adrien?” This question is more tentative, quieter.
Marinette props her chin in her hands and stares at the skyline. Is she happy that it’s Adrien?
“Yeah,” she replies. “Yeah, I am.”
***
Chat Noir vaults over onto the roof, and he’s six minutes early. Marinette sees him before he sees her; she watches him look around for a couple of seconds, slightly confused.
She takes a deep breath and steps out of the shade of the door. “Chat Noir!” she calls.
He jumps around. “M’lady, you—”
His voice trails off. “M-marinette? I—uh, hi! I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I was actually going to find Ladybug but I might’ve gotten the wrong building! What—what, uh, are you doing up here?”
After a day of planning out the words to say, it’s rather funny how she can’t even form a semblance of the sentences she’s thought up.
It’s also a miracle in and of itself that she doesn’t stutter, panic, or go absolutely speechless. Even if her script lays lost and forgotten in the back of her head, Marinette says in a surprisingly steady voice, “I was actually waiting for you.”
Chat Noir doesn’t move from where he’s standing, so she heads towards him. “Did… Ladybug tell you I was going to be here?”
“Uhmh,” is the noise that makes its way out of Marinette’s mouth. She clears her throat and tries again. “I brought you boba because it’s hot today,” she explains. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
She sees it behind his eyes; questions, confusion, but most importantly, the beginning notes of a realization.
“Wait.” He doesn’t budge from his spot, eying her cautiously. “What do you want to talk about?”
“About the fact that you’re probably Adrien Agreste?”
Even the air, laden with the heat of the day, seems to still between them. Marinette looks up at him, and his reaction is the only confirmation she needs that she is indeed right.
Chat Noir���s reaction is less loud than she had expected. It’s shock, probably, the stage that Marinette has been stuck in for the good part of the day, because he still remains frozen. Then, in a shaky uncertain voice, he asks, “Ladybug?”
Her next breath escapes her in the form of a huff, a half-choked laugh. “We’re idiots.”
His lips lift into a wavering smile. “What.”
And then Marinette is laughing, because it’s so stupid. All the pent-up emotions come tumbling out uncontrollably and she’s laughing and laughing, doubling over and clutching at her stomach and nearly dropping her bag of their boba drinks.
Through her own giggles, she hears Chat mumble, “Oh my God,” and the way he says it makes everything all the more hilarious.
When Marinette finally gathers herself enough to straighten, she’s wiping tears from her eyes. Chat Noir is watching her, although his expression has softened into something that looks suspiciously close to fondness.
“Is this why you asked me about boba this morning?” he questions. “If I’d gone to get it with a friend?”
Marinette gives her eyes one last wipe. “Yeah. I just—when you ordered durian boba yesterday and all that you said—it was too suspicious for me to ignore.”
“Oh.” He tugs his hands through his hair—messy golden hair, how hadn’t she noticed how similar Chat and Adrien always were?—and lets out another groan. “Oh. I’m dumb.”
“You could’ve been any other person if I hadn’t been, well, me,” Marinette points out. “Tikki told me it’s due time, anyway. But yes, you’re dumb. So am I.”
“My identity got exposed because I ordered a durian smoothie?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Oh my God.”
She’s beginning to see why Tikki had found it endlessly amusing watching her panic. Instead of further antagonizing Chat, Marinette reaches into her bag to take out his durian smoothie. She stuffs it into his arms, and he’s too confused to do anything but accept the drink and the straw it comes with.
“Don’t worry,” she reassures him before she can stop herself. “I won’t tell anyone that number one model Adrien Agreste runs around Paris in a leather catsuit. My lips are sealed.”
The moment the words leave Marineette’s mouth, she feels her face heat up. It’s one thing to tease him before, now it feels like she’s treading on the edge of a cliff with a long, long drop. He’s still her partner, but there’s another aspect that they will figure out—with time, undoubtedly—and now is too soon to push it so much.
To her relief, Chat Noir’s face lights up, and a much wider smile slips across his face. “I’m still in shock, you know,” he tells her. If that’s his in-shock voice, then Marinette is thoroughly impressed. “But thank you. My father might have a bone to pick with this outfit if he ever found out.”
Relief is cool against the heat. “Your father won’t be the only one with the bone to pick with you,” she replies. “The bell is quite a… bold statement.”
He laughs once more. “I happen to like the bell the best, so I don’t know what your problem is.”
He has no business to smile so brightly like that, Marinette thinks to herself. In front of her is the boy she’s turned down countless times—the same one she would wax lyrical to Tikki every night before bed. God, what a coincidence. Or really, what a stroke of luck.
She’s jolted from her thoughts when Chat stabs his straw into his durian smoothie with a loud pop.
“Do you want to talk?” Marinette offers. “Somewhere shadier, that is? You probably have a lot of questions. I know I do.”
Chat nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would work.”
She starts towards the small door on the rooftop, then stops when she realizes that Chat hasn’t been following her. Instead, his gaze is fixed thoughtfully on his drink, like he’s contemplating something important.
“Chat?” Marinette prompts. “Hey, are you okay?”
Then his face brightens. “I’m taro-bly sorry,” he says. “I just got distracted because you’re such a cu-tea.”
Marinette’s jaw drops open. It’s not that she’s particularly surprised by the pun, given his penchant for dropping them at the most terrible (taro-ble?) of moments, but she had half the mind to believe she’d permanently shocked the humour out of Chat Noir. Moreover, the fact that it’s Adrien Agreste saying these so casually is still new to her.
The grin he gives her is absolutely shit-eating, yet somehow, it works perfectly in her mind on Chat’s face as it does on Adrien’s. It also snaps her out of her reverie.
“Now my head is going to explode,” Marinette grumbles. “C’mon, cat-boy. We have a lot to discuss.”
He catches up with her with a quick jog, still slurping out of his boba. “I’m glad it’s you,” he tells her when they fall side-by-side. “In case you didn’t know.”
Marinette hides her grin behind her own drink, but she thinks Chat catches it nonetheless. “Me too,” she tells him. “Even if you have terrible taste in boba.”
“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have terrible taste,” he points out, and they both share a laugh. 
Notes: Here’s my fics masterlist! 
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oasis-for3v3r · 3 years ago
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Runaway Baby <3
Pairing- Paul x Assistant!Reader.
Request- maybeeee a Paul x reader where the readers super shy ? And she works as an assistant in the studio but in the next room to their studio? Super fluffy 🥺? And maybe the reader runs away from his romantic advances and Paul accepts the challenge 🤣?
A/N-Please accept this as my “i’ve got my mojo back “ fic. Man transitioning to college is hard. Also, this request reminded me of the song Runaway Baby by Bruno Mars- so essentially this is a song fic. And it will appear latter in the chapter.
Warnings- one suggestive commet but thats it.
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You dreaded going to work.
It’s not that you hated it, quite the opposite actually. It had a nice location, not too far from home so your feet wouldn’t hurt from the walk. The pay was nice, considering that you worked for the Beatles as their assistant. You even had your own studio! All together these perks were amazing, but it wasn’t the reason why you dreaded going to work.
It was the people..
Ringo, John and George were considered like your brothers, always teasing you but caring and protecting you none the less. It was so fun to help them and hear the first tastes of the new songs they were writing. 
Paul though.... was a different breed.
He was always... flirting with you. It didn’t make you uncomfortable. Its just the things he’d say made you blush and your ears get hot. It was humiliating and you try to have a normal conversation but you couldn’t get through one without getting flustered and tripping over your words. And it was more humiliating to admit that you liked it a bit.
A bit.
So when you finally got out of the house and onto the street that lead to the studio you practice what would happen.
He calls you bunny? Say “Hey fox”.
No thats way too much
Say “Paul, please we are at work”
No then he would flirt with you outside of work.
What about ‘” I cant be a bunny I don’t have a carrot to chew on”
Oh hell-
Just as you were making yourself red, you bumped your head straight into the door. You were thankful only the receptionist were there otherwise you would have a nosebleed from humiliation.
When you entered the room John and Paul we’re huddled together and mumbling about something, most likely a song. And Rings and Georgie were playing cards.
“Y/N!” Paul said excitedly.
Oh shit
“Hi” you said trying to make your voice deep, but made it higher.
“Before you get all blushy and cute on us, we want to show you something, bunny” Paul said with a wink. Which made your stomach do flip flops.
You sat down, smoothing out your skirt, while George, Ringo John and Paul took their places with their instruments. 
“so Paul came up with the bright idea that he should write a song about you and his relationship” John said he seemed to feel a mix between unamused and excited.
“Relationship?!”you piped up your nose turning a deep red color.
“ Calm down Cutie, its not like that” Paul said calmly, “ it just describes how we are” "Now if there are any more interruptions, i would like to play?”
The bass line started and he began to sing:
Well, looky here, looky here, ah, what do we have? Another pretty thing ready for me to grab But little does she know that I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing 'Cause at the end of the night, it is her I'll be holding
With the song he started to look at t you. And the lyrics made sense. But he was cocky...too cocky.
Run, run, run away, run away, baby Before I put my spell on you You better get, get, get away, get away, darling 'Cause everything you heard is true
The tabloids although fabricated, had some truth to them. And although taboo you did wonder how he would treat you on a date.
So many eager young bunnies that I'd like to pursue Now even though they're eating out the palm of my hand There's only one carrot and they all gotta share it
You understood that reference, and for once you didn’t blush, you grew a smirk on your face , if he wanted to play this game then fine. 
You would just. have to play harder.
Uh, check it out See, I ain't tryna hurt you, baby No, no, no, I just want to work you baby See, I ain't tryna hurt you baby No, no, no, I just want to work you babyIf you're scared, you better run (you better run) You better run (you better run) You better run (you better run) You better, you better, you betterRun, run, run away, run away, baby Before I put my spell on you You better get, get, get away, get away, darling 'Cause everything you heard is true Your poor little heart will end up alone 'Cause Lord knows I'm a rolling stone So you better run, run, run away, run away, baby
When they finish the song, Paul felt victorious. That didn’t last long.
“Well Paulie, if you’re gonna chase me you are gonna have to work faster than that fox.” you said and turned on your heel and left.
Ringo cheered
George joined him and clapped.
John nodded in approval and chuckled.
Paul was cherry red.
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kurinoot · 4 years ago
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[day 9] nine home remedies | kuroo tetsuroo
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-> much to your wishes, your boyfriend who happens to be the captain of the boys volleyball team that you’re managing still went to practice despite being sick, so you give him a taste of your own medicine, literally
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pairing: kuroo x reader
themes: fluff (with a bit of spice), manager!reader, some humor innit lol
warnings: mature innuendos here and there (and that’s it uwu), mild language (just one curse word lol)
word count: 3,379 words
note: sorry for the late LATE post. School has begun again and this fic is pretty long compared to the past ones :( but here’s the update now hehe I hope you guys like it! Also, thank you so much to @xmyshya, @ssrated1volleyballplayer, @meiansmistress​, and @vanille--kiss for proofreading this one for me! Father Meian would be so proud uwu. And also, to my friend who has been part of this since Day 1, @msmeowski​, I really owe you one!
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“How many times do I have to tell you that you should’ve skipped practice today?” You sigh as you accompany your boyfriend with his arm slung over your shoulder to his house, albeit weak and flushed. Kuroo only grunts in response. 
“What, you’re my mom now?” He quips. You glare in his direction, as you have already given him an earful on how his health should be a priority and how he shouldn't choose practice over his well-being. As soon as you enter his house, his grandmother sees the two of you scurrying inside, greeting you with a gentle smile.
“Ah welcome Y/N-chan! Oh! What happened to you, Tekkun?” his grandmother remarks. 
“Baa-chan! It’s Tetsurou!” Kuroo coughs. You could only bow your head at her with respect as you speak on his weakened behalf. 
“Baa-chan! I told this rooster head right here to not go to practice for today because he’s sick, but he still did!”
“Oh, did he really now?” She replies as she instantly glares at her grandson, who is eyeing the sofa, seeking the comfort of its warm, soft surface. His grandmother then pinches hard on her grandson’s cheek. 
“You shouldn't make things harder for Y/N-chan!”
“Baa-chan! Your grandson is sick and you’re still scolding me?” He retorts, earning another pinch and earful from his grandmother before motioning you inside as she prepares the sofa for Kuroo to rest as you follow suit.
“Y/N-chan, will you help brew some tea and make Hachimitsu Daikon for Tetsu-chan?” his grandmother asks as she helps the captain on the couch. You nod before glaring at the sorry state of your boyfriend.
“You better not move from there, mister. I’m gonna brew you some tea.” You order as the captain could only painfully cough in reply, jokingly.
“Yes, ma!”
You quickly set up the kettle, placing it on the stove before preparing the tea. As you wait for the water to boil, you prep the Hachimitsu Daikon mixture, mixing the daikon and honey together before letting it set on the counter. You then hear his grandmother come to the kitchen, and you perk up at her smiling presence, taking two shopping bags with her.
“I’ll be going out to the market, Y/N-chan. Take care of Tekkun for me.” You wave goodbye as she leaves, amused at their cute relationship.
You leave the jar on the table to let the mixture come together as you lift the kettle and pour its contents into the mug with the tea leaves before serving it to your ailing boyfriend. 
“Sit up! Here’s some tea. It’ll help with your cold. Also, I made some Hachimitsu Daikon for you on the table, okay? Baa-chan taught me this one, and said that it was good for your sore throat.”
His hand feebly reaches for the mug in yours, brushing his fingers against yours. He holds your hand for a moment as he looks intently at you. “Manager-chan, I know you’re concerned about me right now,” Kuroo takes the mug from your hands, shifting his focus to the mug on his palms. “But I can take care of myself from here. The younger ones need their pretty manager.”
You quirk an eyebrow, unamused at his statement—huffing as you put your hands on your hips. “As the manager, and as your girlfriend, I’m obligated to take care of the entire team, which also includes my boyfriend. Besides, I’m pretty sure the others are worried about you as well.”
“You never go down without a fight, huh? How annoying,” he obnoxiously says, but thankful nonetheless. He blows into the mug before daintily sipping the tea, sighing in relief as he looks at you. “I didn't know I needed that. Thanks so much, baby girl,” he says with a smile.
Your heart warms at the gesture as you quickly grab your bag, pulling out your first aid pouch and grabbing a sheet of KoolFever, much to your boyfriend’s surprise. You quickly remove the film covering as you gently place it on his sweltering forehead, prompting Kuroo to sigh in contentment as the contrasting cool sheet lays over his spiking hot forehead.
“Ah~ sometimes I wish I could be sick forever...” he places the mug on the coffee table before suddenly pulling you to his lap. “You’d be my cute nurse, baby girl~” He burrows his flustered face to your chest, to which you only spit in disgust. You ruffle his hair as you chuckle in sarcasm. 
“Oh by the way, I’m telling Coach Nekomata to give you 15 more diving drills to make up for today.”
“B-baby, n-no need to be harsh on me,” Kuroo attempts to give you the cutest cat eyes, appealing to your cat-loving side, and although you feel the need to hug your man, you resist his advancements.
“Stop staring at me with those big eyes!” You shove his face away from you as you continue. “Also you’re sweaty, so I’ll get the bath running.”
You manage to untangle yourself from his arms before you enter the bathroom, drawing him a warm bath. Afterwards, you step out of the bathroom with the water running, with tufts of steam leaking out the door ajar.
“Oi, jiisan, bath’s ready!” You pull out a fresh white towel from one of the cabinets as Kuroo slowly stands up at your cue. You go to aid him as he walks on the way to the bathroom, pulling a half-scowl on his face.
“Oi, you do know that I’m not old, right?”
“Hm-hmm. Says the person who says ‘Ah, youth.’”
Kuroo, amused at your clapbacks, chooses to stay silent instead as you help him towards the bathroom. You check the water to see if it’s warm enough as Kuroo lethargically takes off his shirt, fumbling around. You chuckle at his helpless sight, amused at his feeble form, although your eyes keep lingering back to his sweaty torso. Thankfully, his head is stuck in his uniform, so he doesn't have a reason to tease you, and although you need to help him with his uniform, you try not to be tempted to touch his lean, muscular abdominals and his perking pectorals.
“Uhm, ah, I’ll leave you to it!” You shyly mutter as you attempt to scurry out of the bathroom, to no avail as your boyfriend pulls you into a hug, burying his head in your shoulder in the process. You feel his warm breath wantonly brush against the nape of your neck as his ripped torso touches against you, bringing blood on your cheeks in embarrassment. Your heart palpitates as you swallow the lump in your throat in anticipation.
“You perv, you intentionally looked at me while I was naked...” He provokingly whispers in your ear as he gently caresses your hair, leaving you with trails of shivers down your spine. 
“You do know that you need to be punished, right, baby girl?”
You grit your teeth at his underlying pestering as your thoughts are left at the tip of your tongue. Damn, he really knows how to push the right buttons, huh?!
Kuroo smirks at your struggle, more so with the flustered expression on your face, but feels all of his confidence go down the drain almost instantly. 
“I can’t just let an old man pathetically get stuck with his shirt on his head. Now, what would others—especially Lev and Yaku—say if they found out that their cool captain can’t even remove his shirt?”
T-This woman… Kuroo thinks as he feels his mind short circuit at the turn of events. He tries to push more buttons to try and rile you up, which only proves to be futile. 
You then break the ice before going out of the bathroom. “Now I’m gonna go out for a bit and I expect you to be undressed AND in the tub by the time I come back, okay Kuroo-jiisan?”
“Will you stop calling me jiisan already?!”
By the time you return, you are greeted by clouds of steam and you are graced with the view of your boyfriend naked and resting in the filled warm tub.
You then do a quick series of arm stretching, preparing yourself before grabbing the mint-scented shampoo placed in a small cupboard nearby. You squeeze a decent amount of it on your hand, lathering it before you massage the dollop of bubbles onto his scalp. As you massage the shampoo into his hair, you can’t help but feel relaxed in the atmosphere—you shampooing his hair, the calm sloshing sound of the rippling water, the gentle sounds echoing on the bathroom walls, the looming fresh scent of mint, and the almost inaudible sound of his purr.
Oh my gosh, he’s purring like a cat, you think in fascination as you continue threading your fingers onto his hair whilst humming contentedly. Meanwhile, the man in the tub is in complete relaxation mode, feeling satisfied at the sensation of the warm water and your presence. 
He releases a low purr as he simmers himself into the warm tub of sudsy water, closing his eyes at the soothing kneading of your hands in his hair. You then place a quick gentle peck on his shoulder before grabbing the shower head, rinsing his hair with care to avoid splashing water on your dry clothes.
“Ah, that feels really good...” you hear Kuroo unknowingly whisper in relief, which makes you feel warm and fuzzy with contentment. You then grab the soap sitting on the wall side of the tub, lathering it as you rub your way down his body. 
Another wave of soft purrs emanates from his lips as you gently knead the sore muscles of his back, instantly feeling the knots leaving his body. You feel him recline into your touch as he turns to putty in your hands, releasing a deep contented sigh. It doesn't last long as you rinse the trails of suds with water, leaving a final peck on his now clean shoulder.
“I’ll leave you for a minute.”
You make your way to the living room and grab the Salonpas and KoolFever from your bag, and proceed to the kitchen to grab a tray and pour another cup of the herbal tea. Once the Hachimitsu Daikon settles in, you look around for a spoon, carrying it alongside the container of the syrup. You head back to his room only to see Kuroo sitting on the bed, with his hair still wet and a towel hanging on his neck. 
You sigh as you place the tray on his bedside table before giving him a spoonful of the syrup. You grab his towel from his neck gently, shuffling to his back as you drape the towel over his head. Your fingers tenderly graze through his wet locks, which is surprisingly soft compared to his usual bedridden rooster hair. Tempted, you leave soft pecks on his sweltering forehead while continuing to dry his hair. His hazel eyes gaze at the tray before seeing the green onion.
"Y/N-chan, what’s that?" he says as he points to the green onion.
“What? You don’t know the famous home remedy?”
It is actually the opposite. He knows it all too well. It’s just that, Kuroo isn’t sure if you are going to:
A) wrap it around his neck
or worse
B) stick it up in his ass
Knowing you, as the manager and his girlfriend, it would most likely be the latter. He knows he needs to butter you up to avoid the worst choice out of the two.
"You should thank Baa-chan. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't know how to make it specially for you." You hold his warm cheeks in your hands, feeling the sweat forming from his fever. Under your touch, he nuzzles against the cool touch of your touch on his face. Hurriedly, he clasps your hands as he brushes it against his lips, tenderly kissing your wrists.
“Y/N-chan,” he directs his eyes towards you, whilst pecking your wrists. “You’re so warm...”
Your cheeks dye in rose from his sudden affection, pulling away from him before anything could happen. “L-Let me apply some salonpas to you, since you’re done with the s-syrup...” 
Kuroo’s attention keeps going back and forth to you and the green onion on the tray, feeling the slight tension of his heartbeat as time passes by. You then grab the pack of salonpas as you motion for his shirt, but he quickly lays down on the bed, lifting the hem of his shirt for a quick tease as he displays his sweating abdominals. He devilishly fixes his gaze to you with the cutest cat eyes before rolling on his stomach. “Help me, Ms. Manager~”
You feel the need to slap this idiot who unbelievably is the captain of your volleyball team, but quietly sigh ‘another time’. You sigh as your hand glides up to his well-defined back, caressing every touch against his broad back. Your thumb is pressed against his feverish skin before hearing Kuroo's grunts, possibly aching in some parts. Once you've identified the places around his aching rear, you start unpacking the Salonpas.
“Oho? You even have Salonpas with you? Ms. Manager, you're always prepared,” he nonchalantly chuckles, followed by coughing fits as you work on putting on the medicinal patches.
“I'm the manager for a reason. And besides, we work best together, like blood, so if one of you gets sick,” you finish placing the last patch of Salonpas as you start massaging the patches before directing your attention towards him.
"What's the Nekoma team without one another?"
As if taken by surprise by your response, Kuroo gives off a low chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Y/N-chan, after this little thing," Kuroo tucks his arms under his pillows as he buries his face, exposing only half as he gazes directly into your eyes. A playful smirk on his lips as he teasingly exposes his neck, his muscles on his back displayed. 
"Let’s go on a date."
Undeniably, you feel the heat rising in your cheeks at his sudden remark. After a brief pause, you clear your throat, evading his statement. “Y-You…! You have the stamina to be this cheesy when you need to rest?” You tell him as you finish massaging his back. He cheekily grins as he suddenly grabs your hand and pulls you into him. He attempts to give you a playful peck on your lips, to no avail as you shove his face back to his pillow. 
“N-no need to be this aggressive, b-babe...” Pouting, he digs his face into his pillows as you notice him eyeing the green onion on your tray. Your eyes light up as your lips grin with a devilish plan in mind.
He eyes you as you retract, with your hand hovering over the tray. His pupils dilate with his heart palpitating in each second. 
Is it A or B?! Will you choke him or shove it in his ass?! 
His particular train of thought is suddenly cut short as you hold the green onion in your hand. His instincts blare up, feeling it as if they were saying ‘run’ over and over, screaming at himself.
“Alright, Tetsurou,” it is the moment of truth. His neck or virginity are at stake as he internally pleads to the gods for a miracle.
“Stick out your neck.” 
A sigh of relief escapes from his lips, just as he feels his desires fulfilled. You then look at him questioningly as you give him a double-edged smile. Much to his lack of knowledge, he gives you a grin, feeling comforted at the decision to choke him rather than deflowering his ass while trying to treat him of his sickness. He hums, closing his eyes, expecting the plant to be wrapped around his neck, only for him to feel the familiar warmth of your lips instead which makes him look down at you. He sees the familiar glint in your eyes, and the way your lips are smirking make his stomach lurch.
Oh no—
“Now you better lay down on your stomach, mister.”
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The following morning, the entire Nekoma team goes to check on their captain and on you, worried since you did not reply to their messages last night. Yaku initiates by proceeding to knock on the door, only to be welcomed by the sight of an elderly woman, smiling at them as she welcomes them. “Oh good morning, boys! Tekkun and Y/N-chan are still sleeping upstairs.” She sees the knowing stares between the team as she ushers them inside.
“So this is Kuroo-san’s home...” Lev wanders in fascination as he eyes his surroundings, basking in the environment and its homey atmosphere for the first time. Inuoka seems to feel the same as he smiles, with his eyes sparkling and wandering around the humble abode. Kuroo’s grandmother returns to the kitchen while the rest keep on chattering behind.
Disregarding the banter behind him, Yaku goes on and casually opens the door to the sight of you snuggled with each other, steadily breathing as your hands unconsciously massage Kuroo’s torso, leaving trails of your warm touch on it. The other hand on his shoulder unknowingly massages them reassuringly as the both of you succumb in each other’s presence and comfort.
“Aww look how cute you are, you guys...” Yaku sighs with underlying tease (and perhaps a hint of jealousy) as he walks and checks on you and your boyfriend’s sleeping figure, only to see later, in the captain’s partial state of undress on his lower posterior, a thick stalk of green onion protruding from between his clenching buttcheeks. 
He tries to contain his laughter, failing as a full-out cackle escapes his mouth, only for the rest of the team to enter the room and see their captain’s stalked bare posterior, following suit in Yaku’s failed attempt to hold onto his laughter. Kenma, who usually wears a blank expression, is now snickering at the sight before him, much to the surprise of the rest as the setter even takes a snap of it.
A loud groan from the sleeping captain turns the entire room silent as an awake Kuroo, albeit still fuzzy and tranced, rubs one of his eyes. He unconsciously lets out a yawn before his consciousness becomes more clear, finally registering that his teammates are right in his room.
“Oh you guys! Whaddya doin’ here?” he slurs.
“Ah, the guys wanted to know how you were doing and your grandmother happily told us to come in,” Kai replies with his usual smile as he waves at the freshly awoken captain.
“So L/N-san is also here...” Lev utters as his feline eyes land on your sleeping figure, happily snoring your worries away. The entire team pauses for a while just to look and appreciate you in your seemingly deep slumber.
“Waaah, L/N-san looks so cute!”
“Cute...”
Tetsuroo enjoys the attention showered upon you, prompting him to adjust his position on the bed only for him to realize fully the state of his partial nudity on his now aching posterior. He releases a grunt which only turns all the attention in the entire room back to him. Yaku snorts at the view as Yamamoto follows suit, only louder this time. 
“O-Oi, whaddya lookin at?” Kuroo scowls at everyone.
Lev snickers at the captain’s condition, albeit with pure curiosity, “Kuroo-san, why is there a green onion stuck in your butthole?”
Kuroo looks at him with disdain while trying to hide the embarrassment from within, “E-Eh! You didn’t know? This is an a-ancient remedy for fevers!”
“That sounds like a nice remedy. I should try it sometime!” Lev naively replies as Kenma looks at him in distaste before he looks at your sleeping frame with a calm expression.
“Don’t even try to do it, Lev.”
The rest of the members, even including Fukunaga, are already laughing at the captain’s plight, only increasing in volume as it effectively wakes you up from your slumber.
“Yeah right. You really let me stick an onion up in your ass? Kinky,” you raspily groan as you rub both eyes to consciousness, only leaving the team on their stomachs even more.
Happy Valentine’s Day to him, indeed. 
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click here to see where the green onion idea comes from lol
back to the valentines masterlist
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shapeshiftinterest · 4 years ago
Text
Thought Process, Does Mao Mao Is Gay?: mao x considering multiple ships
mao mao heroes of pureheart pride month event
prompt mix:
prompt 1 - Questioning
side: current and possible future questioning, because sometimes ppl find a label that they vibe with more and that’s hella valid
prompt 2 - Realization
story under the read more
Thought Process, Does Mao Mao Is Gay? (also on ao3)
Mao and Badgerclops were sitting on the couch, having a lazy day watching TV. It’d been surprisingly peaceful as of late, and Adorabat was on a class field trip with her dad as one of the chaperones.
Badgerclops was laughing at one of the cooking contestants flailing about as dramatic music playing during the timed challenge.
Mao shuffled in his seat, sparing a glance to his left before looking back at the TV.
“...Hey, Badgerclops,“ he started, “do you think I’m gay?“
The cyclops in question hummed, lowering the volume and leaning back on Sofia’s armrest so he could focus on his friend. “Whaddaya mean?”
Mao mimicked the other’s pose. “I dunno, just been thinking about it recently and I think I might be gay. Maybe. Maybe not??”
Badgerclops nodded, a silent encouragement for him to continue.
“I’ve dated girls before,” he started, before grumbling under his breath, “well, one girl. But that was a long time ago.“
“I mean, I used to think maybe you were aroace and just like, super flirty by nature or something,“ Badgerclops shrugged. “Most of your attention was geared towards becoming a hero, y’know?“
Mao rested his chin on his knuckles, taking a moment to gather and reword his thoughts. 
“Sometimes I get flustered talking with the King but he’s always like that,” he said, more to himself than to Badgerclops, “I banter with Orangusnake a lot but we’re rivals so that’s normal hero business. Eugene’s pretty interesting but I’m sure it’s only because we’re looking after Adorabat, and there was that whole thing with Tanya when she visited and almost took you as a bounty...“
Mao gnawed on the index knuckle of his glove before looking up. “It’s kind of embarrassing but I’ve tried imagining myself in couple situations with guys and-.”
He sighed, picking at his gloves. “I’m not sure if it’s only guys is what I’m trying to say.”
Badgerclops nodded. “You don’t have to like girls just because you dated them in the past, I get it,“ he said, patting the cat’s shoulder. “Hmmmm. Did you feel anything when Tanya was here?“
Mao’s brow furrowed. “Irritation, frustration, some sad and confused feelings, I guess? I can’t really remember, I was more focused on getting you back.“
Badgerclops aaawwwed. “But she was hot though, right?“ Aaand moment ruined.
“Badgerclops!“ Mao blustered, sitting up and blushing. His friend just laughed  and swung a leg over, pinning the cat’s down so that both heroes were lying down on their respective couch sides with their heads against the armrests.
“Answer the question, Mao~.“
Grumbling, Mao bit out a huffy ‘yes’ and crossed his arms.
“Hehe, so we’ve established that you at least still kind of like Tanya,” Badgerclops stated, ticking a claw, “and before that, you said you like daydreaming about (and flirting with) the King, Adorabat’s dad, and the leader of the Sky Pirates.” He ticked 3 more fingers.
“Wh- I said we bantered, Badgerclops! It’s completely different!“
Badgerclops rolled his good eye.
"Oh yeah, you guys were tooootally just bantering during last week’s fight," he scoffed, crossing his arms, "was checking out his butt when his axe got stuck in the fountain part of your word battle or was it a distraction tactic on his part?"
Mao let out a string of indecipherable sounds as his partner snickered.
“Dude, Mao. The king gives you looks when the two of you ‘talk’. Looks and sass that don’t really come out when he directly talks to any of the villagers. From a third party perspective, he’s definitely flirting. Same with Orangusnake. Well,” Badgerclops made a face, remembering their recent hospital visit, “almost the same.”
“Honestly I don’t talk to Eugene all that much, but I’m pretty sure he’s been warming up to both of us. Plus, I do think you should also consider...,“ he gestured between the two of them, raising an eyebrow. 
Mao stared at his co-hero, unamused. 
Badgerclops repeated the gesture, this time wiggling the eyebrow and giving a suggestive hum.
Mao snorted, giving a few half hearted kicks to the other’s leg until the other freed him. The two sat up and faced the TV again.
“Maybe,“ Badgerclops said, “you’re bi, instead of like, being into guys, specifically.“
Mao blinked, heroic brain thinking about what his companion just said. “Huh. Maybe you’re right.” He glanced at his friend and smiled, before going back to watch the screen. “Thanks, Badgerclops.”
Badgerclops raised the volume back up. “No problem, dude.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around Mao as he leaned into his side. The cat’s head rested on his chest as his ears brushed against the taller’s cheek. 
They stayed like that until both of them fell asleep.
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this is semi based on how i talk out my problems to my siblings sometimes
the couple situation is an actual thing i did when i was questioning if i liked guys and girls or just girls, in possible romantic ways
so like, could i realistically imagine and be ok with holding hands, kissing, just lying next to a person, having them touch my hair or something if they were a girl vs a guy if i HAD to be in a relationship with someone
bonus stuff i wasn’t sure how to write in:
mao and BC were holding hands while watching the TV before this conversation
mao has had dreams of him and BC living together before coming to PHV, and even after living there
mao and BC are both bi leaning towards men in this fic (badgerclops already knows about himself)
overall vibe is badgermao but they’re not dating (closer to queer platonic i think?), BUT neither of them would be opposed to dating the other
also if they did date each other later on in this fic they would definitely talk about the others (tanya, snugglemagne, orangusnake, eugene) and who would be their 3rd for a polyamorous kind of thing
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