#maybe I’ll draw the women next as a treat

[bloomeng]

batman and his merry band of robins

[shakespearean-dream]

i would adore ur ted ideas he is so interesting 2 me!!!!!!

ask and you shall receive!!!!

ted. teddigan. theodoreigan my boy. i have so many mixed feelings about u💔

this drawing was a pain in the ASS to make for some reason?? my first go at him was way too close to canon for my liking so i threw myself out there n got to a place i liked thankfully, plus halfway through i forgot how to draw hands and almost cried (joking) cause i thought i had them down at this point!!!!— but trust me, even if you have 9 years of art experience (like me unfortunately. someone take me out i’ve had a good life) ur gonna forget the basics sometimes. warm yourself up and try again cause i did and i eventually remembered 😭😭😭

doing these character studies and drawings have seriously improved my way and process of drawing faces which is so nice 🥲 i think i just need to start looking at the bigger picture again so i don’t forget how to draw everything else. like hands. or full bodies. foreshadowing ;)

i wanted my ted to look just a wee bit unsettling because my general consensus of him is that he is totally fucked in the head, lmfao. born a nepotism baby who ended up scamming people more for fun than for actual cash, horribly sexist but dependent on women to validate him, paranoid as all get out, selfish and self centered as all get out, just his canon personality’s all in one and turned up a notch. 🥲

i don’t think he’s totally beyond redemption, especially because he’s been cooped up with ellen, who is a highly decorated in the engineering field black woman, benny who’s gay and gorr “FREEDOM FIGHTIN’ LIBERAL🇺🇸🦅🦅🔥🔥” ister for 109 years. in that time he’s definitely slipped up and they’ve definitely corrected him (along with nimdok too LOL). i think with some intensive therapy, a shower and a trip to the tolerance museum (south park reference) he’ll be a little better.

i’m a mild ted/AM shipper (as seen in the bottom right hand corner) but more in the “ooohehheh they’re flirting!!… oh no. oh this is not going to end well. this is definitely a toxic relationship” way and less the “awh cute maybe they can have mutual redemption arcs!!!” way because i love seeing gay men suffer romantically (don’t cancel me i am a bisexual man suffering romantically i swear😭)

i’m not too partial to any other ships honestly, ted/ellen makes me nauseous (just cause of the way ted talks about/treats her in the franchise, no hate to my tellen shippers i promise) and i can only see gorrister with his wife 🥲 with benny and nimdok i have no clue if either of them rlly have romantic interests but im not a fan of them with anybody so erm… i do love the whole groups found family vibes though :”””] they’re all cute together and the mutual suffering but all the while growth is comforting to me

i think that’s about all my thoughts!!! another thank you for the support on this blog recently i love yall sm. i’ll eventually post on my transformers blog but i am STILL SCARED because robots are hard to draw. stay tuned for it though. 💀

thank you for reading if you did!!! let me know which of the guys yall want me to do next; benny, AM and nimdok are left on the chopping block. ❤️

[somethingclevermahogony]

Happy lateish STS! Are there resteraunts in your setting?

Thank you for the ask! Sorry I totally to ask you a question! I'll send two for WBW!

Here is a late response for a lateish STS!

Beer Halls

As per usual I will be sticking with Kishetal, and in this instance I will be focusing on the cities of Labisa and Chibal.

The simple answer to this question is, no. There are not what we would consider restaurants in Kishetal, nor any part of the Green Sea. The closest equivalent would be a Beer Hall.

Beer Halls form one of the main hangout spots for commoners of all ages across all of Kishetal, but particularly so in Labisa and Chibal. Throughout Kishetal, beer has traditionally been brewed and sold by women, for some it is considered nigh sacrilege for a man to brew beer. Labisa alone has 19 Beer Halls, all but one of which are run by women. Chibal is not far behind with around 14, all but two of which are run by women.

Most beer halls serve only beer and water, however some larger Beer Halls may serve food. Typically this is limited to simple and cheap foods, which come in small portions. 

In the case of those Beer Halls where food is served in Labisa and other eastern cities one might expect to find stale bread bought from nearby bakeries, porridges, soups or broths, mashes of lentils and other legumes, nuts, and sausages made from blood and/or offal.

In Chibal one might find various forms of shellfish particularly oysters and clams, salads made from seaweed, stale breads and flatbreads, bruised fruit, olives, and blood sausage.

The prices for these things will vary, typically with items becoming cheaper near closing time as a way to get rid of leftover stock. While coins (or parts of coins) have become the preferred method of payment, this is a relatively new development. Many Beer Halls still sell their product based on bargaining. A bowl of beer and some sausage in exchange for new carpentry nails, olives, or fresh figs.

Some Beer Halls will cook food that is brought into them, often without charge as it is expected that the Beer Hall will be able to keep and sell whatever the person that brought in the ingredients did not eat. 

As an example, say a Labisan hunter brings a boar into his local Beer Hall. The Beer Hall will butcher and cook said boar, making roasts, soups, and sausages, potentially dozens of servings. The Labisan hunter will be able to return the next day to eat the dishes made from said boar for free, however the Beer Hall will make a profit by selling the rest to other customers. Not all gifts are treated the same way, and this is limited mostly to meat and seafood. A loaf of bread might get you a free beer, but just the one, no matter how many people that loaf feeds.

There is no menu and the food is not served to order. Rather it is stored in large jars or tubs and dished out either into ceramic bowls or onto plates made from hard almost inedible bread.

Food is secondary, a way to draw more people in to buy beer. In most Beer Halls where food is served, you will not be allowed to purchase food unless you also purchase beer.

Some day maybe I’ll try to recreate a meal that you could expect from one of these Beer Halls.

[spookyheaad]

Another art dump

Uhhh potpourri, a mix of modern/actor AU KenUno & some Tesoro/Stella, as well as some angst Interloper shit; cause I need to reignite my brain for angsty Tesoro stuff. Also working on music zine things behind the scenes :)

@p-riama @girlwiththepapatattoo

Finally coloring them 😌 feat. Tesoro in the top left, not having a fun time, by the looks of it. I adjusted the pose where Kenny is wrapping his arms around Unohana from behind, the addition of her holding his arm as though she’s urging him to continue, *chef’s kiss* perfection.

I need to draw Kenny & Unohana kissing a lot, as a treat.

Fr, a lot. Feat. Kenpachi Zaraki taking a ten second pause to absorb a thought.

I absolutely love how this Unohana sketch came out, I’m finally seeing so much progress in terms of how I draw women. I struggle with it a lot because I’m focused on men most of the time when I draw, but I’m so happy that I’m finally seeing more progress with how I draw women!

Maybe she’s knitting, maybe she’s looking down at Zaraki, who is resting his head on her lap, idk :)

More KenUno Shenanigans. Traveling to the Bleach set, couldn’t get seats next to one another, of course Kenny misses her. He can’t hold her hand.

I love Interloper so much, I can look at it & go “wow I made that character to torment Tesoro! It needs to be as vile as possible!”

It’s hard to get full detail obv when I draw it further away, esp in the face, because the cheekbones & eye sockets are very important to how it will look in the finished piece. I usually draw them first & adjust as I go.

And you bet your ass Tesoro is a Ghost fan, pls they’re right up his alley.

I had the sketch for this one in my files forever now, so I just put some rough inks on it tonight. Interloper’s chin is a liiittle too big in this; have to move it’s teeth lower.

Might try to change Tesoro’s expression, he is way too relaxed with Interloper nearly crawling down his back. in terms of the Tesoro/Stella fic, and my ideas for whenever Interloper appears; Tesoro will never get used to it. Idk, if you saw an audio/visual hallucination of your elongated messed up corpse, feeling it’s presence around, etc. have it off you in your own dreams; I’d be a garbage mess too.

An idea that I have. Not sure if I’ll use this idea for the fic, but I’ll still share it because I like the sketches. As Tesoro continues to atone for his atrocities, as well as begins to process his severe trauma, Interloper becomes more and more incapacitated; from losing its legs, then it’s arms, to where it becomes a stump on the floor that can only try to taunt and influence Tesoro through his thoughts to harm himself. Tesoro is still afraid of it regardless of it being unable to walk; it’s presence alone is enough to make him cower. But, seeing it in such a state of weakness, it’s just more confirmation that he’s moving in the right direction.

[minileena]

Zookeeper - part 12

prev - next

“Hey, uh… weird, out-of-the-blue offer, but my friend bailed on me last minute to go see a movie tomorrow night, and I wanted to see if you’d be down to fill his spot?”

I prayed that my sense of dread didn’t show on my face. Oh, god, Jasper is asking me out. I need to shut this boy down now.

“Uh… I… I can’t think of a not-blunt way of saying this, so I’ll just kinda throw it out there, I guess,” I said, unable to make eye contact. “I’m, uh, not straight?”

Technically true, though I hesitated to call myself a lesbian. The label I liked to use was ‘sapphic,’ in part because the word and the flag are really pretty, but also because the term is very vague—all it means is that you’re female-identifying and are romantically/sexually attracted to other female-identifying people. It didn’t necessarily exclude men, of course. Bi women are, by definition, sapphic as well. But my feelings regarding my attraction in that direction were… mixed.

Obviously, none of this was the real reason I turned Jasper down hard.

Layna was my friend. Maybe one of my best. And I could not shake my feelings of disgust at how this man treated my friend.

He threatened her, bullied her, scared her into submission… I’d been trying not to let him know I had been avoiding him, but I just couldn’t look into his eyes and see anything other than his smug face holding Layna up by the ankle and asking her if she ‘remembered her place.’

I had been hoping that Jasper would just politely excuse himself at that, but instead he just nodded. “As a friend, then. You know I accept everyone for who they are no matter what,” he prompted with a serious look.

Sheesh, red flag. Overcompensating for that kind of stuff usually meant you have an issue with that kind of stuff. I wondered if he would go around and tell all his pals about his new ‘gay best friend.’ I nodded with a smile anyways, putting him at ease.

“I just feel like I haven’t gotten to chat with you for a while, Evelyn!” He continued. “All the other staff here are so weird and stuffy. You’re my only cool coworker! I really just wanna hang out, even if platonically.”

Ugh. He’s pushing more. I had to fight hard not to let the disgust show on my face as I briefly entertained the idea that he was playing his little ‘game of dominance’ with me.

He wasn’t, of course—I was actually a person in his eyes, after all.

“I… maybe another time, Jasper,” I said noncommittally. “I’m pretty busy this week.”

Jasper held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, no worries. But, y’know… if you’re ever bored, you have my number. I’m always down to hang out.”

I gave him a polite nod and a smile before turning and leaving.

God, that left such a horrible taste in my mouth.

Time to go make it infinitely worse by dehumanizing my best friend on camera.

Layna, to her credit, had the poker face of an absolute professional. She looked as dead inside as the first day we met, curled up on her bed, a half-finished drawing sketched out on her pad next to her. I let out a casual noise of acknowledgment and she did the same, tone dead and hopeless.

An oscar-worthy performance. If only I was as gifted in the art of lying as she was.

I tried my best, I really did. For the purposes of our little act, I did a passable job at pretending to think of my friend in the same way I would think of a rodent of middling intellect.

But there were days I couldn’t look her in the eyes. Days that tears threatened to well. On those days, Layna would give me an encouraging smile, facing away from the camera.

Today, though, was not one of those days.

“Can ya scooch?” I asked casually, waving her off of my bed so I could pretend to check under it. With a sigh, she complied, moving over to a flat spot of stone to sit atop and watch as I poked around the fluff.

I leaned in closer, pretending to take a closer look.

“Tomorrow night,” I whispered as softly as I could manage.

I saw a nearly imperceptible nod. I was sure Layna was counting the days just fine on her own, but she didn’t have a calendar in here, so I figured it would be good to confirm—

“Your breath stinks,” Layna whispered as I finished up my ‘inspection.’

I pursed my lips, barely suppressing a smile and a surprised chuckle. I gave her a look, only to see her grinning back at me, face turned away from the camera.

My friend…

I finished my work with her tank. Then I left wordlessly.

Tomorrow night, I would get to hug my friend again.

prev - next

[marshmallowgoop]

I started compiling yearly writing reviews in 2017.

"I’ve seen people do month-by-month yearly compilations for drawing," I wrote in that first post, beneath a Goop's Creative Writing in 2017 header and various isolated paragraphs, "and I know it’s way harder to see progress with writing, but I thought I’d try anyway?"

In 2018, I crossed out the Creative part.

"I’m including all kinds of writing I’ve done this time around," I said. "My non-fiction work is important to me, too."

By 2019, the header was simply Goop's Writing in 2019. No red X. No sign that there had ever been anything else.

I skipped 2020. 2021 removed headers and isolated paragraphs altogether—a tradition I'll keep for 2022.

But I can't help thinking about that crossed-out Creative from 2018.

What a 2022 mood.

See, there's this essay that's been swirling around in my head for a while. Well, more than swirling around—there are maybe the makings of it somewhere deep in my Tumblr drafts, scrawled out and abandoned way back in 2020.

You Don't Deserve to Be a Good Artist. That's what I've thought about calling it.

Because I'm a Libra, right? (On the cusp, but still!) I'm all about fairness and balance, about earning what you get. And, as I realized in horrible clarity in 2022, despite my Creative Writing degree, I don't deserve to be a good (creative) writer.

But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, here's a clumsy metaphor: I learned how to swim as a young child, through lessons held at a local high school. There were two pools there, one for swimming and one for diving, and this year, I feel like I skipped the shallower swimming pool and leapt right into the deeper, scarier diving pool of creativity. I wrote fiction beyond November's National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) challenge of penning 50,000 words within 30 days—a challenge I've participated in since 2006—completing two short fanfictions, more than I've done in years. 2022 also got me interested in a new hobby of video editing; I've shared 10 AMVs since April.

I surrounded myself with artists, and they welcomed me with open arms, treating me with far more kindness than I felt I deserved. And that's the theme with me, so I do want to stress that it's not the fault of anyone else—not at all, not ever!—that a sense of out-of-placeness filled me.

I got my degree in Creative Writing, I must have said, multiple times, over and over.

But I never voiced, not directly, the reason I ever mentioned it at all. That I'm an artist, too. That I belong here. That I can also write creatively, not just essays! I swear!

Yeah. My need to justify my existence was probably pretty blatant.

In many ways, 2022 felt like a repeat of realizations made in 2021. "I can’t get invested in my own stories," I said in last year's review. And yet, "[S]omething simply feels… lesser, about throwing fiction behind and writing about other people’s fiction instead." So, I tried to write fiction. And it hurt, and it ached, and I cried. (And vomited from anxiety.) I vibed so much with MUNA's "Winterbreak" that I used it in an ask game this year, but it wasn't 'til the closing months of 2022 that I understood that I do actually relate to the song, in a way; my relationship with creative writing feels like a love I'll never get right, but "I'll always have one more try."

Like 2021, I also don't know where I'm going next year. But 2022 got me thinking, for the first time, "So what if I have a Creative Writing degree?" It's been a source of shame ever since I earned it—a painful, haunting reminder that I genuinely went to school for fiction writing and still write pieces that reek of amateur—but in the grand scheme of things, what does that matter, really?

So I wrote some literary fiction for school, studied movie scripts, penned a few plays, handed in one novel. (And the novel was for my Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies minor!) So I've participated in NaNoWriMo since 2006 and have over a million words on NaNo projects.

So what?

Writers around me have done so much more than that. Why do I deserve to be good? For studying writing in school for a few years? For mainly only writing fiction one month a year, which I then never polish or show anyone?

Of course, the world doesn't work like I would maybe like it to. It doesn't necessarily matter if I "deserve" to be good or not. But how can I get upset over my skills when I've spent so little time honing them?

Well, I kind of like my NaNo projects from 2022. "I'll always have one more try," I think.

Anyway, my struggles with creativity aside, I am proud of what I accomplished this year. Here are my favorite written pieces from each month!

January: Ai Haibara: Will She Choose to Remain a Child in the End?

February: Shinichi Kudo: Hiding His Trauma

March: Episodes 406-408: Toning Down the Tsundere

April: HeiShin Masterpost: Things I Love About Heiji and Shinichi

May: HeiShinRan

June: OVA 9: Shinichi’s Conception of Heiji’s Future (And How He Thinks Heiji’s So Attractive That He’ll be Called “The Lady-Killer of Naniwa”)

July: Opening 56: The Focus on Heiji’s Alcohol

August: HeiShin: Is It Really Onesided?

September: "They Only Murdered Him Once"

October: The only thing in my "ramblings" tag for this month is this post about recommended Conan English dub releases...

November: "Demon Get Out, Luck Come In"

December: Heishin: "Don't Fall in Love"

Yeah, this is, like, all Heishin related 😳

That's all for now. Happy New Year, y'all. Thank you so much for your continued support and kindness.

[yespolkadotkitty]

One of These Days - pt 2

Words: 1345 ~ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x female!doctor!reader ~ Content: mentions of injuries

Part 1 here

You see him next at the town bank, a few days later. He almost walks past you as you’re queueing, but then he stops and tips his hat up. “Mornin’ Doc.”

“Good morning. How’s the shoulder?”

“Doin’ better. Thanks.” He rolls it a little. “Should be okay for the rodeo in six days’ time.”

Your mouth falls open and you shut it with a snap. “You’re going?”

“It’s all I’m good at,” he says simply. He doesn’t say it like he’s asking for pity, just like it’s a fact.

“As I said. I doubt that.” You move forward in the queue.

Rhett hesitates, like he’s going to step away and leave you, and for a moment you grasp at something to say to keep him there, because he smells of woodsmoke and some kind of citrussy cologne and it’s addictive, but then he says, “Maybe you’ll come see me ride.”

Your pulse jumps at the thought of all the sweat and noise and sawdust. “I-”

“I don’t mean to pressure you,” he adds, those blue, blue eyes searching your face. His hands are tucked into the back pockets of his jeans, pushing his torso ever so slightly forward, drawing your attention to the open neck of his pale grey henley. Who invented the henley? Was it specifically to draw women’s attention to men’s necks? You think so, sometimes.

“I.. I don’t know what I’m doing yet,” you manage. “My schedule is all over the place.”

“Understood.” He plucks a flyer from one of his pockets and offers it to you. It’s warm from his body and a little crumpled. You take it and your fingers brush his. It’s electric, everything inside you buzzes at the contact. “This is it. Think about it. You can just turn up. No need to book.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

He touches a finger to the brim of his hat, a slight but nonetheless stunning smile briefly touching his lips, and then he’s gone, and you watch the broad line of his shoulders until he leaves the bank with a tinkle of the doorbell.

You reach the front of the queue and the cashier grins at you. “Not bad to look at, is he?”

“I’d have to agree there.”

You make your deposit and go back to work at the clinic. You treat a man who has cut his palm badly mending fences on his land, give a little girl meds for a water infection, and assist an olde gentleman who twisted his ankle on his daily walk.

It’s a good town. Nice. Small, in the way little off-the-track towns are, but that’s OK with you. You’d had enough of the rat race in big cities like Cheyenne and Laramie.

At the end of the work day, you go home to your little rental, exhausted. Medicine might be your calling but it doesn’t mean you aren’t dog-tired by it.

After you eat dinner and video call your mom, you take out the flyer you’d carefully folded into the hip pocket of your jeans. And you think about making the drive.

You must be nuts.

**** 

As it happens, the choice is made for you. 

May calls the day before the rodeo.

“The on call doctor’s sick. Some viral thing. Can you attend the rodeo? It pays time and a half.”

You agree. What else do you have to do? You can’t drive into the city every spare day for entertainment, and you hardly know anyone yet.

When you arrive to the huge, dust-heavy field the rodeo’s set up in, May greets you with an older woman in tow. She’s pretty in a country way, her stetson the same shade as her short, thick hair.

“I’m Cece. Rhett’s mama.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

She smiles easily. “We all think Rhett’s a damned fool to be ridin’ tonight, but my husband, Royal - Rhett’s father - was a star rodeo rider in his youth. It seems to be in the Abbott blood.”

You eye her curiously. “Were you ever a rodeo rider?”

She gives you a brief but charming grin and her face is transformed. “Well. I may have given one bull or two a run for their money.”

May snorts.

You laugh at their obvious close friendship and follow them towards the ring.

The spectators are on the edges of their seats as each rider shoots his shot. It’s clear that everyone taking part today has the support of their loved ones from the huge cheers and cries coming from the bleachers.

You stabilise a broken forearm and wrap a sprained wrist, and then Rhett’s name is called.

You swear you don’t breathe as they settle him on to the bull and wrap his hand on. He looks over and meets your gaze, and you don’t know what comes over you, but you blow him a kiss. What the hell are you doing? You haven’t blown anyone a kiss since you were ten years old.

He catches it with his free hand, tucks it into the front pocket of his shirt.

Your heart bumps as his blue eyes hold yours-

And then he’s poetry in motion on the bucking bronco, one arm in the air, the other holding on for dear life as the animal does its level best to get rid of its burden. The seconds tick by and the crowd as a whole holds its breath. You see the concentration sketched hard across Rhett’s face as he grips the bull with every ounce of strength he possesses.

The huge clock that logs the seconds finally spills over into eight and Rhett wobbles and then topples from the bull. The rodeo hands rush in to distract it before he’s crushed.

The landing doesn’t look too bad. You eye him critically as he stands up and raises his hands to the crowd, and then his azure gaze finds you, and he nods, and smiles. It’s hesitant, like he isn’t sure if you want to be here.

But when he was riding, his body somehow an extension of the bull’s, you wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.

He comes to find you just as you finish treating a female rider with a cut on her shin. She thanks you and limps away into the arms of a man waiting a few feet away.

“You came,” he says, and the bright overhead lights of the rodeo ring cast shadows on his face of planes and angles, highlight the gold in his hair. He holds his hat to his chest.

“On-call doc couldn’t make it. But I enjoyed it. You’re very good at this.”

If you were expecting a snappy comeback, you’d have been disappointed. He just says, “thanks. I was glad, seein’ you there.”

He looks good. His hair is a little rumpled from his hat, but it suits him. Half a day’s beard growth, the colour of a sandy beach in the sunshine, adorns his jaw. His blue and white striped button down contrasts nicely with his rawhide vest.

“I was glad too,” you say, and you mean it. “You hurt?”

“Got off easy today.” He rolls his good shoulder.  “Ain’t always this straightforward.”

You start to pack away your tools and kit. “I can imagine.”

He waits until you’ve zipped your bag. “Have a drink with me?”

“I’m driving back tonight.”

“Just one? I promise not to keep you out past curfew,” he adds, dimple winking in his already too handsome face.

And you know that you’re going to have that drink.

-----

Tagging @airplaneanon @hederasgarden @wildbornsiren @nerdysuperchick @lorecraft @a-reader-and-a-writer @callsign-phoenix @sebsxphia @hoe-on-the-range @green-socks @3tabbiesandalab @thelifeofthelifeofme @straightforwardly @cowboybarbie @therebeccaw @hope-love-equality2 @colereads @iangiemae @blackwidownat2814 @lawfulgranola @marchingicenotes7 @fairyheart

[wkemeup]

favorite fanfic trope: enemies to lovers but it's the moment when their tension is at its peak 😈

title: The Mess I Made - submitted by anon summary: you may not be on the best terms with Bucky Barnes, but it doesn't stop you from coming to his defense prompt: “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.” / multiple requests for enemies to lovers word count: 1.5k a/n: enemies to lovers is already tough for me and to do it in drabble form is impossible for me because it requires a slow burn, but I did my best!!

You were on your way to the tower's gym when you heard Bucky’s voice echo from the end of the hall. Towel swung over your shoulder, headphones barely even grazed your ears as you paused, turning down the music. Bucky’s shadow danced over the walls as his run his hands through his hair. A woman’s shadow emerged next to him, her heels clicking against the tiles.

You rolled your eyes. Bucky’s latest string of conquests were an inconvenience at best. His pathetic attempt to rekindle whatever version of himself he idolized from the forties in the form of cheap, meaningless hookups was just another reason you made every effort to steer clear of Barnes. His seemingly indifference towards you made easy to do so.

Steve wouldn’t let it go – his questioning of why the two of you could never get along. It wasn’t that you hated Barnes. You didn’t know him well enough to hate him. You just didn’t care for what you saw. He was guarded and cold. Condescending and arrogant. Half the time, you barely believed Steve’s stories of Bucky’s charming days in the forties. The rare moments you caught his smile, it looked forced. It barely touched his eyes and he wore a mask to bring home women who spent their nights admiring an arm he would not allow them to touch.

The rare moments you thought you saw something genuine in him, he’d lashed out. The cracks in his foundation breaking through the surface in the screams at the night of dead of night, flinching at loud noises, the easy transition to taking orders and losing himself for the briefest of moments.

You’d made the mistake once of trying to comfort him. His eyes had glazed over in the middle of a conversation. There were dozens of agents around for the annual holiday party and Bucky was in another world entirely. His pupils were dilated, his hands shaking as he closed them to fists. You never learned what triggered it, but the moment you laid a gentle hand upon his forearm, Bucky had you in a chokehold.

It took both Sam and Tony’s strength to wield Bucky away from you, all while he was practically foaming at the mouth, screaming at you to never touch him again. He was rabid as Sam and Tony struggled to hold him back. The whole party stopped to watch the scene unfold – as Bucky hurtled countless insults at you.

He was drinking Thor’s liquor. He had to have been. Half of what he said that night barely made any sense. None it worth the audacity to lay a hand upon his arm to draw him back from wherever his mind had taken him. Perhaps, if you weren’t so thoroughly humiliated, you might have considered as much.

But what he said that night stayed with you and you never let it go.

“Why don’t you stay, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice carried down the hall.

You tapped your foot impatiently at the elevators, desperate for an escape before he turned the corner. You noticed the woman’s heels were still clicking on the floors. She hadn’t stopped.

“Let me take you for breakfast, at least,” Bucky asked, a nervousness in his voice you didn’t recognize. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” The clicking ceased and you watched as the woman’s shadow placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, stilling him in an instant. “I thought you knew what this was.”

“I did. I do, but,” Bucky started, running a hand through his hair. You’d never seen him act this way before – so unsure of himself. The elevator doors open and closed as you watched his shadow sway on his heels. “I just... I want to try something different. Something... real and I thought, since we had a nice night together you might...”

“What?” the woman scoffed. “You thought I would want to��date you?”

Bucky stiffened. Even his shadow appeared to mask into stone. Dread curdled in your stomach and you found yourself inching down the hall, approaching the shadows.

“Listen,” the woman crooned, “you were great last night and sleeping with the Winter Soldier is a hell of a story, but you’re not exactly... relationship material.”

You froze, stunned.

Bucky awkward cleared his throat. “I-I know, and I’m working on that. I just thought—”

“Oh my God, take the hint!” the woman exclaimed and you flinched in time with Bucky’s shadow against the wall. “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? Clearly all I wanted was a good lay. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about this clingy shit with the Winter Soldier for Christ's sake. It’s incredible how low my standards were for you.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

You rounded the corner, tossing your workout gear aside as you came face to face with the woman. She was a beautiful as the rest of them were – tall, stunning, probably one of the models you’ve seen on runways or on magazines. But her eyes were unkind, and dismissive.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she spat, shoving past your shoulder and heading to the elevator. You moved to block her when you felt the cold grasp of vibranium curl around your wrist, yanking you out of her path.

“Hey!” you yelped, watching as the woman made her escape into the elevator. You snatched your hand back, massaging at the tender muscle. “What the hell, Barnes?”

“I don’t need you coming to my rescue,” Bucky bit back. “I had it handled.”

You scoffed, the image of Bucky’s form flinching as she called him ‘pathetic’ still fresh in your mind. You’d never known him to back down from a fight. Hell, he’d gotten into a screaming match with a paparazzi for daring to ask how his morning jog went. Bucky didn’t roll over and play dead. But he let that woman wrap a hand around his throat until he choked.

“Sure looked handled,” you rolled your eyes. “She was walking all over you.”

“My sex life is not your concern,” he growled, his voice low as his eyes hooded.

“I never said a damn thing about your sex life, Barnes.” You shook your head, already regretting stepping in at all. It was pointless – foolish even – to think that he might be appreciative of your intervention, of the fact that despite the tense history between you, you would never stoop as low as that woman did.

You bent down and picked up the gym bag you’d let slip from your hands. “If you want to be treated like shit, then by all means, have fun with your next one night stand. I'll steer clear of the fallout.”

You started to head back towards the gym when you heard Bucky groan rather dramatically behind you. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as Bucky hit a fit against the wall.

“What is your—”

“You are so goddamn infuriating!” Bucky snapped and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious right now? Me? I’m the infuriating one?” You released your bag, letting the weights hit the floor as you stalked back to him. “You’re the ungrateful jerk who just yelled at the one person who bothered to stand up for you!”

Bucky gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to do that!”

He was only inches away. His breath hot against your cheeks. You could see the dark blue specs in his eyes from this close. The blacks of his eyes nearly consuming him whole.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Barnes,” you sneered. “You think you need to ask for help, that it’s earned or deserved, but it’s not! Sometimes people just want to help you, you asshole! Sometimes, people can be good and can care about you without expecting that you—”

Your back hit the wall as Bucky’s weight pressed to your chest. His lips crashed against yours, his hand slipping into your hair. Everything in him moved with purpose, with adrenaline spiked into his veins and fury in his bones – but not his hands. Even as his lips hungrily devoured yours, his hands were gentle as they caressed the nape of you neck, as they slid down your hips.

What surprised you more – was that you kissed him back. Your hand clutched into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, your lips parting for him as he brushed him tongue over yours. It was the kind of kiss that left you feel dizzy – like you’d been under for too long, your lungs aching, and still you had no desire for air.

When he finally did draw back, it was only when he was breathless. His chest panting in time with yours, his forehead dipping to rest against your collarbone. He paused for a moment, even as his fingers gently pressed into the nape of your neck as if upon keys of a piano.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky confessed.

You chuckled. “I do.”

He lifted his head and you smiled when you saw his lips were pink and swollen. You brushed a hand over his cheek.

“Because even when I hated you, I still cared about you, Barnes. It’s not black and white. It’s messy and it’s grey. But I can handle a little mess, can’t you?”

Bucky swallowed, slow to the smile that crept upon his lips, but still—it came. “Yeah, I can handle messy.”

When he kissed you again, he didn’t hesitate.

[charcubed]

hey char, mind to share your fave stevebucky headcanons? 👀

Oh I LOVE that you asked me this :’)  Thank you!

I honestly have so many if I really think about it because I love them so much and I think about their dynamic so much that I have so many favorite things... but here is what I think of off the top of my head:

• Steve was color blind before the serum, according to canon. I have a headcanon that Bucky used to try to describe colors to him. I wrote a mini fic about that here.

• Bucky was drafted for the war, but didn’t tell Steve. Steve sort of assumed that Bucky enlisted, and Bucky never wanted to correct him. How could he? Steve wanted to enlist so badly, and Bucky didn’t ever feel like he could admit that he didn’t have the same drive to want to ~fight for the country~ like Steve did. He didn’t want to disappoint him and he was afraid Steve would think he was a coward. So Bucky just... never told him that he was forced into war. It was never his choice to fight for the country. If it was up to him, they would’ve stayed home together and stayed safe and never fought at all.

• They were always physically rough with each other, in the sense that they'd wrestle as boys all the time, and Steve loved that Bucky never treated him as fragile. Buck knew he could take it. Even after the serum, they'd still scuffle a bit like kids, finding a bright spot in a war-torn world. They’d be awake in the trenches on lookout, having soft conversations in the night, and shoving each other after one says something stupid or makes a bad joke.

• Steve is bi, and Bucky is gay. Bucky was consciously aware of his feelings for Steve way, way before Steve was aware of his for Bucky. In the 30s, Bucky has a bit of a reputation for ~dating around,~ but not in a rude ladies’ man kind of way but rather his reputation is “Bucky Barnes is a real charmer. He’ll show you a good time and he’s really sweet, but he never pushes your boundaries.” Some women wishes he’d push their boundaries, but he doesn’t. He’s taken so many women out on dates because he never lets it get super serious, since they’re not who he wants and it’s mostly for appearances’ sake, especially since he and Steve live together. He definitely enjoys hanging out with women, and treating them nice, but most of the time his motivation is to try to set up double dates–half because Steve deserves to find a great girl to date, and half because a double date means Bucky can selfishly do a date activity “with” Steve and not have it mean anything. Meanwhile though, Steve gets jealous as hell and testy about Bucky dating all the time, but he’s oblivious to the fact that it’s because Steve wishes Bucky would be with him instead.

• Their first kiss was when Steve was 16 and Bucky was 17. I’m not necessarily saying that’s when they actually got together, but something significant happened between them at those ages... maybe they kissed because they were drunk, or it was so Steve’s “first kiss” would be someone he knew and it was for “practice.” And then they both never talked about it again, because they’re idiots and were afraid to ~ruin things~ between each other. That’s why Steve says “Rumlow said ‘Bucky’ and all of a sudden I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn.” That’s why “seventeen” is one of Bucky’s trigger words as the Winter Soldier. It checks out, because Bucky is a little bit older than Steve.

• Steve doesn’t fully admit the depth of his own feelings for Bucky to himself until he finds out Bucky’s been captured by HYDRA. And then he tears Europe apart to get him back. He’d have done that anyway, obviously, but... the prospect of losing Bucky forever is really what makes him realize how much he can’t handle that concept. Because he’s in love with him.

• After Bucky “dies,” Steve gets more reckless, and that’s part of the reason he put the plane in the ice and didn’t try to survive: he didn’t want to live in a world without Bucky in it. This is supported by canon. And so I headcanon that, after Steve finds out about the Winter Soldier, one day he abruptly realizes that he could’ve died in that plane crash and never known Bucky was alive and brainwashed and suffering. He thought Bucky was dead and he wanted to follow him, and he could’ve left Bucky even more alone in the world without knowing it. When Steve realizes how close he came to leaving Bucky behind like that, he throws up. It horrifies him to think about it.

• They each have a pair of dog tags where one says “Steve Rogers” and one says “Bucky Barnes.” They swapped one tag each, so that they’d have a matching set, because while they couldn’t list each other as “next of kin,” they wanted tangible evidence that would show other people how important they are to each other. So people would know: tell him if something happens to me.

• Their Brooklyn accents come out / get heavier around each other, especially if they’re bitching about things or arguing.

• Bucky is a complete sci-fi and fantasy nerd–which is now confirmed canon, and I love it. In particular, I like to headcanon that he loves to read paperback sci-fi novels, and discount romance novels. He unironically enjoys them, and he leaves them allllll over the place. One of the things they love to do is Bucky will sit around and read while Steve will sit around and draw/paint, and half the time Steve gets distracted sketching Bucky’s facial expression he makes while he’s reading.

• Bucky is also a pop culture gremlin. He will try and often get interested in pretty much anything and everything, without rhyme or reason. In modern day, he and Nat will watch trashy reality TV together–sometimes to make fun of it, sometimes to get invested. Steve thinks they’re insane for that. And sometimes Bucky will like one niche thing but then for very specific reasons he dislikes another similar thing. It makes sense to him, even if Steve doesn’t get it.

• Steve tends to be pickier with the kind of stuff he enjoys. He’s always had Strong Opinions™️ on everything, including and especially art. Put him in a museum and he’ll have a lot of thoughts on all of it. He doesn’t judge things or hate on other people for liking things he doesn’t like at all, but he won’t get hooked on a movie/show quite as easily. The one exception is animation, which he absolutely adores, and he goes on a wild binge of all kinds of animated content for awhile–shows and movies–because the various art styles and uses of the medium to tell crazy stories just fascinates him.

• Easy access to so much music is one of their mutual favorite things about the 21st century. Bucky often gets into individual artists’ entire discographies and becomes a fan, whereas Steve often gets into a handful of specific songs from a wide range of various people. Like... Bucky will often love an entire album, and Steve will often love 2 songs specifically more than others. But even with that, Steve loves collecting vinyl records–both old and new ones.

• Bucky has a fantastic singing voice even though he’s shy about it, and he tends to hum along to music when distracted or working on something else–especially while making something in the kitchen. 

• Bucky likes technology more than Steve; Steve likes physical stuff more than Bucky. Bucky loves to take photos and videos of things all the time, hoarding digital memories in a way that’s precious to him, knowing that they’re “safe” and accessible anywhere. They lost so much of the objects that they loved a century ago, and photos were scarce, but now... there are endless ways to have pictures. When Bucky was recovering in Wakanda and Steve was on the run, Bucky would often text Steve photos–sometimes without captions–to wordlessly share bits of his days with him. He’s got a good eye for photography, except for when he takes the photo equivalent of shitposts to make Steve laugh. Regardless, Steve gets his favorites printed–some of Bucky’s photos, some of his, some of their selfies–so they also always have something tangible to hold onto.

• Bucky calls Steve “sweetheart” sometimes, just to be a little shit–and he means it. It makes Steve turn red every time, without fail, but he secretly doesn’t mind it.

Okay I’ll stop hahaha. Those are the main ones that come to mind for me all the time when I think of them! 

Thank you again for asking :D  This was so fun to write all in one place!

[donutloverxo]

Stevie's new beard

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Birthday shot #2 & Kinktober day 8 - Beard kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - You have some strong feelings about Steve’s new look.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut(m/f), dom Steve, daddy kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x female reader

Word count - 2.5k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

One more swift turn over the corner, your eyes squinting as you tried to concentrate, “That’ll show him,” grumbling under your breathe, pressing the scissors down, “done.” With a smirk on your face.

You had been working on cutting out Steve’s face from your honeymoon album. An album you had spent hours on, your blood, sweet and tears, literally, you must’ve gotten like five paper cuts working on it. But none of that mattered. You were mad.

No, you were fuming.

The previous year, you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday with Steve since he was called on an emergency mission. Which was fine at the time you had only been dating for a few weeks. And when he went to Siberia over a month ago, you thought he’d be back for your birthday for sure. Then you’d get to have him pamper you and baby you for the whole day, not that you needed such an excuse, but still.

It was one in the morning, your birthday had already started and you doubted that Steve would be able to make it. He had gone silent a week ago, for his teams and your safety.

Well, by the time he’s back you’ll have cut him out of all your pictures. Maybe you’d even go stay at your sister’s for a while. You missed her and needed a vacation and teach Steve a lesson. You wouldn’t be back until he’s growling on his knees - begging for your forgiveness.

Or maybe... he wouldn’t care. Maybe he’d be glad that you’re gone. You didn’t know what you’d do if that happened, you always seem to be weighing him down. You understood that being married to Captain America meant that you had to share him with the rest of the world. Most of times, you were alright with that. You didn’t care much for the Captain, he was fine but he was no Steve Rogers.

You sighed, giving up on your little project, thinking about maybe calling it a night. Hopefully your friends remember your birthday and do something special for you.

Slipping into Steve’s t-shirt – because as much as you were mad at him, you really did miss him. This was the longest you had been away from him.

Fluffing your pillow, keeping Mister Steebie next to you, you climbed on top of it. Ready to switch off the lights -

“Hey there, sweetheart,” you gasped when you heard the low rumble, clutching your neck, taken aback and panting.

Taking a deep breathe, you looked at your door over your shoulder, sighing when you noticed it’s Steve.

Except it wasn’t...?

“What the fuck?” you frowned and did a double take.

Getting off your bed and walking over to the door. He was still dressed in his dark stealth suit, his dirty blonde hair swept back, his jaw covered in a thick beard - a few shades darker than his hair.

You stopped a few steps away from him, taking in his new look. You didn’t know what to make of it but it did make you shiver - for some reason.

Your lips pressed in a flat line as you stared at him. He spread his arms out, in an attempt to hug you, probably, trying to close the distance between you but you took a step back. Eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he tilted his head to the side, giving you his Disney eyes.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you spat.

“What do you mean?” his eyebrows scrunched together as he rubbed a hand over his beard.

“Don’t do that!” you admonished him, folding your hands under your titts, perking them up.

“Do what?” scratching his beard, “You’re not making any sense, doll. Didn’t you miss me?”

“I did,” you huffed, “Do you know what date it is?”

“Yes, I do know. That’s why I’m here. I got back as soon as the mission wrapped up. Now come here and let me give you a birthday kiss,” extending an arm towards you.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

“Why?” he pouted. “I made it back in time, just like I said I would. I missed you, come on just one kiss... wait a minute. Is this about the beard?” You nodded. “You hate it? Tony said you would, I just didn’t have time to shave. I’ll go do it now then.” Since he was desperate for kisses and cuddles.

“No, don’t!” You pressed a palm on his chest, in an effort to stop him. “I mean, sure if you want to... but I don’t hate it. It’s kind of the opposite... I think. I just need time to process this.”

“Doll,” he exasperated, sighing, 'politely’ trying to tell you off. “I’m tired. And you’re really not making any sense.”

“I just fucking love your beard, ok!” you snapped. Your cheeks heating up at the brash confession. Clenching your thighs together. You shouldn’t like it as much as you did. It hides Steve’s beautiful face and makes him look so feral and dangerous. So not Steve.

“Really?” he quirked a brow, pulling you flush against his chest, “how much do you like it, puppy?”

“I - I don’t know...” Still embarrassed, you hide your face over his heart, rubbing your cheek against the rough kevlar of his suit. “I like it a lot, I think. Please keep it?”

He hummed, “But you won’t even look at me.”

“It’s a lot to take in, okay? It’s like, ugh remember when you saw me in my wedding dress?”

He'd never forget, he had cried like a baby. “This is nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes.

“It’s... give me some time. Small steps.” Bringing up a shaky hand to touch his soft fuzzy jaw, “Oh! Remember that time I bought that forties style nightie. And you went to town on me?” looking up at him, “This is like that.”

He nodded, finally understanding. “I get it, doll. But I’m afraid I don’t have time for ‘small steps’. I missed you so much,” Rutting his erection into your belly - as if to physically prove it. “And I need to make your birthday special. Treat the birthday girl right, huh?” He pressed his thumb on your cheekbone, caressing it, dipping his neck down to kiss you but you pulled away.

You hugged him again, standing on your tippy toes and nuzzling your nose in the crook his neck, his beard tickling you ever so slightly.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it. That I’d be all alone.” You whined. And then he comes back looking this good! Making it impossible for you to stay mad at him.

“Of course, I made it. Couldn’t let my best girl be alone. Now let me kiss you,” you shook your head again, “fine then. We can do your small steps. Let me eat you out,” biting the shell of your ear, “I’m hungry, doll.”

There was no way you could say no to that. “Oh - okay,” you gulped a huge lump of air.

Suddenly, he swept you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder, his hand kneading your ass before smacking it, “Missed this sweet ass too.” he said, throwing you on top of the mattress. “I like this shirt on you, pup,” he smiled, his heart swelled as he felt strangely possessive of you, hovering above you, “But it had to come off.”

With a lack of finesse, his greedy hands ripped the poor clothing to shreds. He hadn’t gone so long without you. He needed to be inside you as soon as he could.

“Stevie!” You tried to chastise him.

He threw the shirt away, growling at the sight of your naked breasts, your hard pebbles, your hands coming up to cover them from his dark eyes. That won’t do, he pulled them away, pinning them beside your head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he frowned

You shuddered. Really, a beard shouldn’t make that much of a significant difference but it made him all the more intimidating. “Sorry, daddy.” You pouted. If nothing else, the D-word always worked.

He shook his head, capturing a nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. He made sure to run his beard over your breast. Letting go of your twisting hand as it clenched on the back of his head. Your back arching, pushing more your body to him.

With a loud ‘pop’ he let go of your hard nub, shoving two fingers in your mouth and ordering you to suck and like he obedient doll you were - you followed.

He pulled his fingers out, snaking his hand between your legs, dipping them in your heat. Then he noticed it and frowned.

Looking to his side, a sack of flour? No, looked fluffy enough to be cotton. “What is this?” he wanted to know.

You were too far gone to even register his words but you vaguely heard him. You bit your lip, following his eyes. “Oh, that’s Mister Steebie.”

“What?”

“That’s you. I missed you and I needed a cuddle buddy. So I stuffed some cotton in a sack, dressed him in your flannel and drew your face on him.”

His 'face' was just two dots with a blue sharpie, golden hair on his head and a pink mouth. “It’s cute.” he chuckled, grabbing ‘Steebie' and putting him on the floor, “But you don’t need him. You have the real thing now,” he reminded you, trailing kisses down your body, pushing your thighs apart to make room for him and settling between them.

“I suppose I should upgrade him now. Draw the beard on. I wonder if I have a brown sharpie,” you mused, yelping when you felt his teeth grazing over your clit. “God!” you heaved, propping yourself up on your elbows you looked down at him. A few strands of his hair had fallen on his forehead, he looked ethereal. “You’re so pretty, Stevie.” Your hand caressing his face.

He leaned into it, having been touch starved for over a month. “You’re the pretty one, pup. Now, will you be good for me? Let me treat my birthday girl right?”

You nodded. Laying back down, running your fingers through his longer locks.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” he asked

“No, I followed your rules.”

“Good, I didn’t either.” Not that he had the time or space to anyway. But he wanted to save himself for you.

“Thor told me, women like a nice thick beard,” rubbing his face on your inner thighs, “he’s a bit of an oversharer. But I knew you’d like it too. Guess I was right.” He was smug about it too. He knew you inside and out. More than anybody else, maybe more than you know yourself.

He pushed your thighs apart as you squirmed above him, trying to clamp them on his head. “Now, sweetheart. I thought you promised to be good. Do I need to tie you up?”

You furiously shook your head. “No, please! I’ll be good.” Normally, you’d love to be tied up. But you needed to touch him, his face and his hair.

“I know it’s hard, pup, just try a little harder,” He tongue nudging at your entrance. His fingers spreading your lips apart, “such a pretty pussy,” he praised.

Wrapping his mouth around your clit and pushing his fingers in your pussy. He made sure to gather as much of your slick over his beard as he could, to make a mess of it.

You threw your head back, trying your best to stay still, it was too overwhelming, too good, “Stevie! Stop, stop please,” you begged, pulling on his hair.

He immediately pulled away, hovering back over you, inspecting you for any distress.

“I want to come with you inside me. Please.” you said, fluttering your lashes.

He sighed, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Come on! It’s my birthday. You have to do as I say,” you giggled.

“As you wish,” he shook his head. He would’ve given in even if it wasn’t your birthday.

His fingers scrambling to get his dick out of his suit. Kissing your neck, sucking on your special spot, he pushed inside you. Digging his fingers in your hips, he bit your neck, “So fucking tight, doll.” He groaned, he was at the end of his rope, he couldn’t take it anymore, snapping his hips with a swift thrust he buried himself inside you.

“Stevie,” you mewled, feeling his tip pressing against your special spot. “Right there!”

Pulling his cock out and then pushing back, “Here?” he wiggled his hips, pressing his lips to your jaw.

“Yeah,” you gave a shaky reply. Already on the edge as he kept ramming in on your g-spot. “Steve, kiss me please?” You needed to feel his lips on yours, to feel his beards on your face.

Circling a hand under your waist to pull you up and closer to him, his hips setting a punishing pace, he crashed his lips on yours. Clashing your teeth together. He moaned as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, before kissing him again.

Letting go of his lips, just for a second to pepper kisses all over his beard and then kissing him deeply.

You clenched around his length, pulling his hair, biting the hilt to his jaw to stifle your scream. Waves of pleasure crashing over you one after another.

He came right after you, with a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you.

He laid beside you, on his side your bodies still connected. He couldn’t have any of his spend escaping your tight cunt.

He kissed the crown of your head. “You liked your first gift?” he asked as you hummed. “Don’t worry, I got plenty more for you.” he smirked already feeling himself get hard again in your pussy.

When you were quiet for a while, so unusual for you, your fingers playing with his beard, “What’s wrong, pup?” He tilted your face up so he could see it.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. Suddenly feeling guilty for ruining your precious pictures. “They need you more than I ever will - your team and this world.”

“That’s... true. You don’t need me. You’re a strong woman, if anything I need you. But that’s a good thing, sweetheart. You want me. And that's enough for me.”

“Really?” Your lips curling up in a big grin as you nuzzled his beard, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

Steve’s heart was big enough to share him with the entire world. That he could still love you more than you could even begin to comprehend. And always make his way back to you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[taeescript]

29 + 1 (Part Two)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au 

𝔴𝔠: 7.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!) 

𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (:  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it 

part one || part three 

The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.

  You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.

  “So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”

  Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.

  You tip the shot back with no chase.

  “You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.

  The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.

  “It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”

  “You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”

  “I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”

  “And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”

  “Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.

You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.

  He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”

  You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.

  “I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”

  “You do know – ”

“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”

  Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”

  You shake your head.

  “Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”

  Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”

  He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”

  “What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.

  He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”

  The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.

  “Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”

Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.

  “No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”

  You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.

  “Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.

  “God help me.”

  The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.

  His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.

  You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.  

“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”

  You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.

  “She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”

  He offers you his water to drink.

  “I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.

  “Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”

  “We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.

  He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”

  “Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.

  At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.

  Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.

  “It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.

  “Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.

  She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”

  Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.

  You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.

  She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”

  You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.

  He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”

  Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”

  Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”

  “Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.

  He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.

  You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.

...

On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.

  Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.

  Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.

  “Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.

  Seokjin blinks to refocus.

  “The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.

  “Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”

  “The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.

  Junho grumbles something intelligible.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”

  Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.

  “It’s been going...”

  Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.

  10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”

  10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”

10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”

  10:18pm “Real good**”

  Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.

  10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

  Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.

  10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”

  The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.

  “Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”

  Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.

  “It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”

  His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”

  Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.

  10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”

  A moment of silence.

  10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”

  10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”

  The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.

  Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.

  10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”

  “What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.

Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.

  The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.

... 

You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.

  You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.

  “Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.

  In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.

  “I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.

  He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.

  “Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”

  You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.

... 

The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.

  Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.

  “You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”

You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.

  He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”

  “Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”

  “He’s my best friend.”

  “Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”

  A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”

  Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.

  He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself, 

“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”

  “You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.

  He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.

  “You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”

  Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.

  The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.

  Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.

  Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.

“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.  

He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.

... 

“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”

“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.

  You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.

  “No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”

  “You suck at metaphors.”

  You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.

  “As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”

  He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”

  “No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”

  There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.

  “Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.

  “Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”

  “My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.

Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.

  “Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.

  “Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.

  You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.

  “I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”

  Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.

  “So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”

  “Please stop reminding me.”

  “Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”

  Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.

  “Um… I, uh…”

  “What?”

  You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back. 

  “I’ve got plans tonight.”

  “Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”

  “Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”

  “He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”  

You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.

  “He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”

  Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”

  “Sorry again,” you apologize.

  “Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”

  The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.

  Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.

... 

The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…

  “You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.

  There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).

  “The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.

  He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…

  “Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”

  You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.

  “Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”

  Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.

  “Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”

  He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”

  You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”

  “No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”

  The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.

  “Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.

  You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.

  Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.

  Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.

  You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”

  Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.

  “Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”

  Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.

  “You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”

  “I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”

  Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?

Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”

  The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.

  “You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.

  He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.

  Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.

... 

You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.

  “He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”

  Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.

  “A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.

  Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.

“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”

  At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.

  The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”

  Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.

“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.

  There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.

  Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.

  On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…

  You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.

  11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”

  Smiling, you type in your response.

  12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”

Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.

  12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”

  12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”

  12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”

  12:24am “First name basis 🙃”

  12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”

  You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.

  Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.

  Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.

  “Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.

  There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.

  “You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.

  Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.

  “How many have you had since we came?” he asks.

  You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.

  He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”

  You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”

  “You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.

  You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.

  Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.

  Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.

  “Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.

  “Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.

  And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”

  “Are you a secret alcoholic?”

  You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”

  Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.

  “It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”

  Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –

  “Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.

  “Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”

  You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”

  He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”

  You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.

As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.

  He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room. 

“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”

... 

As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.

  “This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”

  Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.

  “Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”

  You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.

  He smirks from the spot.

  You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”

  “You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.

  Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.

  “Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.

  “It’s still a stupid last name.”

  “It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”

  “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”

  Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.

  He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”

  You readjust your positioning following his instructions.

  “Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”

  “Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.

  He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”

“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”

  He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.

  Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.

He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.

“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.

  You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.

  You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”

...

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Three

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrusted to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Smut, NonCon, Language, Kinda Slow Burn, Cruel!Bucky, Injuries, Violence, TRIGGER WARNING FOR NON CONSENSUAL SEX, fluff??? Maybe?? Can you call it that????

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: I'm making soup right now!!!! It won’t be done until maybe eleven thirty (It’s ten thirty rn) and I work at 4 tomorrow morning so RIP me. Um... I hope to post the next part of In a Heartbeat soon (Tonight or tomorrow) but we’ll see. I hope you guys are all having a lovely evening and I love you all very much!!

Spoiler(ish) A/n 2: So this chapter is very dark BUT the next chapter will not be as dark so you have that to look forward to.

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND VERY DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

PART ONE

PART TWO

~*~

“No breakfast again this morning, Your Majesty?” You shake your head at your guard, turning your back to her and motioning for her to tie up your corset.

She starts tying, apologizing every now and again when you inhale sharply at the tightness.

“Natalia, I would appreciate it if my name were not one you said to the king. With every mention of me, he becomes more agitated. He is entitled to do whatever it is that he pleases to me, for I belong to him now. I fear you getting involved in any way will only make matters worse for me.”

She wonders what James might've done when he last saw you to have you saying this, but she knows better than to ask.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I ask you forgive me for speaking so plainly without permission.”

It’s been weeks since the king left, and the Kingdom has started growing cold with the coming winter.

“Today, if you will allow it, I would like to take you to the stables. You have been here for well over a month and have yet to meet your horse.” You cock your head to the side. You didn’t even know you had a horse here.

“I have a horse?” She nods, draping a cloak over your shoulders. “You have whatever you want here. This is your home. Your kingdom. Anything you wish for will be brought to you. All you need do is ask.”

“I suppose you’re correct. Forgive me for being so blunt, but I have not felt very welcomed in my new home.” She nods, opening the door for you and walking you down the hall.

“I know it has been said many times, but the King is simply under a fair amount of stress. He knows not how his words affect you. You mustn’t think you are the cause of his anger. He is wrong to take it out on you. I know it isn’t my place, but before Steven was taken, the two kings were greatly looking forward to meeting you and marrying you. However, without his husband, I fear James has become a shell of a man.”

You hum, her words making sense when you think back to the way the King treated you and some of the things he said.

“It’s comical. The King fears I am trying to replace his husband when I have not even spoken his name. I have not said a word about King Steven and yet His Majesty treats me as if I am the one who lost him in the first place.” You stop in your tracks, horror filling you at what you’ve said.

“I am too bold, for I know not what I am saying. Please forgive me, Natalia. I did not mean anything by it.” She smiles gently at you.

“You do not need to be afraid of speaking freely in front of me. I will not breathe a word of it to the King. What is said in my presence stays with me and only me.” You smile gratefully at her but say nothing more, not knowing how much you can trust the woman beside you.

~*~

The days go by in blurs of grey. You rarely leave your chambers unless coaxed by Nat or Wanda, and even then it is only for brief moments.

Your appetite has shrunk and you hardly sleep more than a few hours a night, something both women are starting to become worried about.

Natalia was asked to take care of you, and she feels horrid for doing such a terrible job. But she isn’t sure what else she can do.

“We should hear from the King soon. It’s been nearly two months since his departure,” Wanda says from beside the bathtub. You’re laying in the warm water, eyes closed in a pathetic attempt at ignoring the world around yourself.

Something about what she says clicks in your mind and you peel your eyes open.

“How long did you say?” You ask, voice scratchy from lack of use.

“It’s been nearly two months since he left.” She repeats, smiling gently at you. You nod, teeth grinding together as butterflies fill your belly.

“Wanda, could you fetch the doctor? I am feeling unwell.” She nods, jumping up from her spot and hurrying to the door. While she’s gone you climb out of the bathtub and quickly dry off, heart in your throat as you get dressed.

You’re pulling on a plain beige dress when Wanda re-enters the room, a doctor following close behind.

“Your Majesty.” He bows then stands back up quickly, pushing his spectacles up higher on his nose.

“Please excuse us, Wanda.” She nods, disappointment in her eyes, but leaves nonetheless.

You wait until you’re sure she’s away from the door before speaking.

“I have not bled since arriving here,” you say bluntly, wanting to know now if what you think is actually true.

He raises his eyebrows and nods, licking his lips.

“When was your last bleed before arriving?” You take a deep breath, trying hard to remember. “Probably about a week... maybe two before I arrived.” He nods, pulling a small notepad out of his jacket and jotting something down.

“The days add up. I would not be surprised if you were with child. I’d like to do a few inspections, just to be sure, but I am fairly confident that you are.” He pulls the stethoscope from around his neck and puts the earpieces in his ears.

He presses the flat part against your chest, listening intently before nodding and jotting a few more things down.

When he crouches down and presses the flat part to your lower belly you feel like you may throw up.

It’s dead silent in the room, you holding your breath, and him listening carefully.

A smile breaks out across his face and he stands up.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty. I can hear two healthy heartbeats.”

You’re going to faint.

He must see you start to sway because he grabs your arms and hurries you to your bed, laying you down.

“I’ll send for Lady Wanda. Have her bring some water.” You nod, clenching your jaw as you try to fight both tears and dizziness.

You’re pregnant.

You’re going to have a baby.

You dread having to tell the King.

~*~

Two weeks after finding out the news and you’ve told no one. The Doctor, (Doctor Banner as you found out later) is the only other person who knows and you’ve sworn him to secrecy.

Two weeks after finding out you’re carrying the future of Acadia and that is news you’ve kept to yourself. Who can you tell? Your husband still hasn’t sent word, and there’s been no sign of him.

You sit in your chambers, picking at a piece of bread more than eating it.

“Majesty, you’ve lost weight. You need to eat, please,” Wanda begs. You look over at her then back down to your almost untouched plate of food.

After a moment of staring at the food you sigh, one hand coming to your stomach.

“Wanda, where do your loyalties lie?” She furrows her brows in confusion at your question.

“I don’t think I understand what you mean, your Majesty.” You sigh and look at her. “Could you keep a secret from the King if I requested you to do as such?” She nods without hesitation. “You are my queen and I am your lady. You are my top priority, before the kings.” You nod, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your stomach.

“I’m with child,” you tell her, eyes focused on the pristine walls.

She takes a sharp breath in, hurrying to your side and looking into your eyes.

“Is this confirmed?” You nod, placing a hand on your tiny bump.

“I have not told his majesty yet, because I have no way of contacting him. I can only hope that after he is made aware of my pregnancy... I hope he is kinder.” She nods, smiling gently at you.

“I’m sure he will be. He and King Steven spoke so fondly of having children. Of having you. When they come back I am positive King James will make up for all he has done to you. Now, you must eat. I will not leave this spot until you eat half of what is here. If not for your sake then for that of your child.” You purse your lips then nod, picking up a scrap of bread and bringing it to your lips.

She smiles encouragingly, watching with warmth in her eyes as you eat the food on your plate.

~*~

You’re falling into light sleep when there’s a sudden commotion outside of your chambers.

“He’s returned?” A muffled voice asks.

James.

You bolt upright, stumbling out of your bed and rushing over to your window. Sure enough, the group of riders is back. But one is missing from the King’s horse.

“He was unsuccessful. We could not find Steve. He... he is not taking it well.” That’s Samuel's voice.

You open your door, smiling at Nat and Sam.

“He is back?” You ask. Sam nods then scratches the nape of his neck.

“He is... not in good spirits right now, Your Majesty. It would be unwise to see him until he has calmed down.”

You take a deep breath, Wanda’s words ringing in your head. He needs to know this. If only to spare yourself some pain.

“I need to speak to him and I need to do so now. This has waited long enough. I do not care if he is not in good spirits. I have waited far too long to tell him.” The two nod and Sam points you in the direction of where the King is.

Your heart is racing in your ears and you hold your stomach, beyond nervous for the King’s reaction.

When you get to the throne room you find the door open, the King having his back to you.

“Your Majesty?” You call, only becoming more nervous when you see the way his shoulders tighten at the sound of your voice.

“I asked to be left alone,” he growls, his voice low and full of anger. You take a deep breath and nod, stepping into the throne room.

“I realize that, Your Majesty, and I apologize for intruding, but I mist speak with you.” He chuckles, turning around slowly to look at you.

He’s dirty and there’s dried blood on the side of his face. His eyes are red and blood-shot and you realize that he must’ve been crying.

“What could you possibly have to say that would lead you to believe it is important enough for me to hear?” Your mouth drops open in shock and he scoffs.

“You waste my time, you stupid girl. I want nothing of you, do you not understand that?!”

“Believe me, Your Majesty, I understand that plenty. You think I do not know of your resentment but I do. I am not here by my own free will, might I remind you. I am not the one who chose to come here. If my memory serves me correctly, it was you and King Steven who chose me.”

You hardly register what happens next. One moment you’re standing up facing the king, the next you’re on the ground, cheek stinging and the taste of blood in your mouth while the sound of a slap rings in your ears.

“You will not speak to your King in that manner! It is a privilege to be here, and it is time you realized that. You were chosen, yes. Chosen to bear the children of the great Kings of the West. However, that does not make you irreplaceable! You can easily be beheaded and another woman brought in your place.” He eyes you for a moment, his anger and sorrow consuming him.

“It seems my words are not enough to remind you what you are meant for. Perhaps my cock will do a better job?” You shake your head, scrambling back, but it’s too late. He’s already on top of you, shoving your legs apart and pushing your skirts up past your hips.

“No! Your Majesty, please! I-I’m sorry! Please, don’t!” He smacks you again, successfully silencing your pleads for him to stop. Tears leak from your eyes and you feel whatever fight you had left in you be drained.

Your mind goes blank and it’s as if all your senses have been turned off.

You can’t feel anything. Not his hands on your hips, nor his manhood tearing you apart. You can’t hear his angry grunts or the choked sobs he’s trying so desperately to contain.

You simply lie beneath him, tears trailing down your cheeks and eyes focused on a stain on the wall across from where you are.

Hot tears splatter against your face, adding to your own, and somewhere through your hazy mind you realize he’s crying. Why he could possibly be crying when he’s the one causing pain is beyond you, but you don’t care anymore. Not about him, nor his husband, nor his kingdom. The heir you carry... you’re hardly sure if you care about it anymore either.

When he’s finished he doesn’t look at you. He can’t. He can’t face what he’s done. Instead, he fixes your skirts, gets up, and leaves you on the floor.

You have no strength left inside of you. Your body is stuck on the ground, tears still flowing down your cheeks and dripping into a puddle on the floor.

Alone on the floor you lie, not sure for how long. Minutes, hours, days. You have no idea. You hardly hear the feet running to you, nor do you process the hands pulling you into a seated position, fingers on your neck checking for a pulse.

A woman’s voice shouting for the doctor while strong arms pick you up.

You’re carried through the halls, each one looking so much like the last, and then you’re on your bed again.

There are people speaking, voices all muffled together that you can’t hear and you wish would go away.

And then you’re jolted back to reality by a spray of cold water.

You gasp, arms coming around your body and hugging yourself as shivers wrack your frame.

“There you are, Your Majesty,” Doctor Banner says, his eyes moving from your face down to your stomach.

“Everyone out. I need to inspect the Queen in privacy.” You don’t look to see who else is in the room. You don’t care.

You keep your gaze locked forward, trembling as the cold water seeps into your bones.

“It was the only method I could think of to pull you from your shock, Your Majesty. I do hope you’ll forgive me.” You don’t reply and the Doctor sighs.

“Lady Wanda, run a hot bath for her. And have someone fetch some of the tea I asked for.” You’re assuming Wanda does as asked because you can hear the water filling up the tub.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Doctor Banner asks. You say nothing.

“Are you hurt?” You shrug.

“Can I examine you?” You nod. He lays you down and presses the stethoscope to your stomach, nodding once then sitting between your legs. He flips your skirts up and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I will need to have a word with his Majesty. He cannot be so rough while you are with child.” You shake your head, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“You don’t want me to tell him?” You nod. He sighs but agrees.

“You must rest though, Your Majesty. I can only imagine how much pain you are in.” When you still say nothing he sighs and rises to his feet.

“From what I gathered, all is well with the child. It will take a few days for you to heal properly, and I recommend you eat more and add more meats and cheeses to your diet. You need to gain weight and sleep more. Both you and your child require that. I will inform the chefs of your change in meal schedule. I expect you to follow it this time.” You simply nod and the doctor leaves without another word.

Wanda is at your side before you can fall back into the abyss of numbness, helping you to the bathtub and pulling your soiled dress from your body.

“I’ll have it disposed of. You spend as much time as you’d like in the tub. I sent Nat and Sam to fetch tea and soup for you. No one has seen the King since...” She trails off, a frown on her lips at the way you make no sign of having even heard her.

A knock on the door pulls her from her worries momentarily and she hurries to open it.  

Nat comes in, a tray in her hand, and Sam is standing guard at the door, under strict order from the redhead not to let the King anywhere near your chambers.

“How is she?” Nat asks. Wanda shakes her head, sighing heavily. “She hasn’t spoken a word. Not even to Doctor Banner. I fear he may have done damage that cannot be healed.” Nat nods, her eyes on you.

“Your Majesty? I’ve brought you some soup and tea. Doctor Banner has said that you need to eat more.” She sits on the padded vanity stool after tugging it to the bathtub and sets the tray down on the floor beside her.

She picks up the soup and offers you the bowl, at which you simply stare. She sighs and raises a spoonful of it to her mouth, blowing on it gently before offering it to you. You open your mouth and allow her to spoon-feed you the warm soup.

It takes both women to get you out of the tub and into bed, but once you’re in bed you never want to move.

Wanda blows out the few candles you had in your chambers and her and Nat quietly leave.

~*~

“She’s been up for several hours. She lit a fire a few hours ago and has been sitting in front of it ever since,” Nat whispers, looking at the brunette with sad eyes.

“The King has destroyed her spirit,” Wanda whispers back. You sit perfectly poised in front of the fire, your back facing the two women.

“Has she spoken yet?” Wanda asks, to which Nat replies with a sad shake of her head.

Your fingers poke at your stomach, hatred in your heart for the life growing within you.

A plate of fruit and nuts sits in front of you, one you’ve been nibbling at since the early hours of the morning.

You’re not meaning to be silent, you simply have nothing left to say to anyone, no fight in you and nothing left to give. You’re tired and absolutely done with this life that you’re living.

“Nat?” The two watch you carefully for any reaction to the King’s voice.

“You should be beaten for all that you’ve done to her,” Nat says matter-of-factly. The King sighs and you hear his footsteps slow as he approaches your door.

“I came to talk to her. To apologize and explain.” The redhead snorts. “It’s a little bit late for that, Your Majesty. She hasn’t spoken a word since we found her yesterday. I doubt she wants anything to do with you.” You couldn’t care less at this point.

“Please?” The redhead sighs but steps aside, allowing her King access to his wife.

“(Y/n)?” You don’t move, eyes focused on the flames in front of you. He sits himself down beside you, eyes on the side of your face.

You’ve lost weight. Your face is slimmer, less lively than last he saw it. The bags under your eyes have only grown and you look... exhausted.

“May I have a moment alone with her? Please?” The two women exchange glances before slowly nodding.

“We will be just beyond the door if you need anything from us, Your Majesty.” He knows they’re not talking to him. As soon as the door is closed he sighs, shoulders slumping forward.

“I will never be able to apologize for all that I have done to you. You... you have endured far more than you should have and I have treated you unfairly. I have... I have brutalized you and broken you down. I take full responsibility for my actions.”

He sighs heavily before continuing, his voice quiet and broken.

“I miss my husband. And although that is no excuse, it is my explanation. I have never been one to love easily, and loving him... it was hard to accept for the longest time. And then I opened myself up to a love I have never experienced before, only to have him ripped from my grasp.

“We chose you specifically. Your beauty and wit... we knew you would make a wonderful queen. He would talk about you at night, we would discuss what having you would be like. And now every time I look at you I see him and it pains me. Because you are a dream that he and I were meant to share. It is wrong for me to take that out on you and I will never ever be deserving of your forgiveness.”

When you still say nothing he sighs.

“I... I would like for us to be civil, at the very least. And I know you have tried and I have not been open to this before, but I would like to start over if you’ll allow it.”

Even if you didn’t want to be civil with him, his word trumps yours.

“Join me for dinner tonight? I will have the cooks prepare whatever you would like to eat.”

You don’t want to eat a single damn thing. But do you really have a choice?

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 2

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five.  Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You alright?” Somi asked gently, watching me fling  my backpack into the corner of the room with enough force to dislodge one of the wooden panels on the wall, the shelf crashing and bringing down the two potted plants on it. The sound of ceramic shattering made me wince, regret churning in my stomach. 

“Yeah...yeah. Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Somi.. I broke your pots-”

“Never mind the pots...why do you look so upset? Have you been crying?” She demanded , reaching for me, hands curling around my wrists and drawing me into a hug and I swallowed, my throat dry and eyes swollen from all the tears that I’d wrung out of them. 

Outside the room, Namjoon stood guard, at the door and I felt guilty remembering how the past three hours had gone. 

After confronting Jungkook, I’d stormed off in righteous indignation and poor Namjoon had been forced to follow. 

He had kept a discreet distance as I climbed to the tallest ridge on the roof, scaling the gables with ease and I knew he had been terrified at the prospect of me falling. 

Immortal or not a three hundred foot drop to the ground would be something that would hurt.

And it was my bodyguard’s job to make sure I did not get hurt. 

When he wasn’t busy fucking other women that is. 

I gripped my sister harder, fingers curling into the fir of her coat as I tried to catch my bearing. 

“Do you know Helena?” I whispered, pulling away to look at her. Somi’s face fell,eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh, no. Was she here?” She asked gently, reaching out and cupping my cheeks and my lips wobbled. 

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was in a relationship?” my voice shook and Somi shook her head. 

“He’s not!! God, Helena doesn’t do relationships. Jungkook and her.... well, I’m not sure but they’re just fuck buddies..... barely that. You know she’s from the Kim clan right? Those bloodsuckers never settle for one partner. “ She muttered. 

I stared at her.

“He called me a child and then told me he’ll tell dad if i try to make a move on him.” I whispered. 

Somi flinched.

“Sera....”

“It was humiliating and painful and I don’t ever want to think about it, ever again.” I muttered. 

She sighed. 

“It’s not like you don’t have men dying for a glance from you, Sera. You forget that you’re literally the most beautiful woman in the clan. If he rejects you, you’re definitely not the one missing out in that equation.” 

I nodded, misery seeping into me. My sob-fest on the roof hadn’t been wasted. I was angry at first but now, a sort of resigned acceptance had taken the place of my anger. 

 The look on Jungkook’s face had been too real, the emotion behind his rejection too potent for me to get over. I wasn’t sure I could change his mind.

Wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. 

“Was he very hurtful ? You know, if you tell dad, he’ll hire someone else and-”

“No.” I said immediately. “ I won’t do that. It’s not his fault, it’s minge. I acted out like a...well a child to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything and he’s always been obvious in his disinterest. I was just too blinded my own attraction to consider that it wasn’t reciprocated.” I grimaced. 

God, I’d been an idiot and Jungkook’s words had knocked some good sense into my head. But I did care for him and his son and they needed this job. I wouldn’t put his job in jeopardy just because I didn’t get my way. 

I was better than that.

“Alright... Dad wanted to meet you for breakfast tomorrow.... He sounded serious. Do you know what that’s about?”

I groaned, when I remembered the reason my dad wanted to see me these days. 

“Dad wants me to start meeting men now. He thinks I’m old enough now that i’ve turned 21. He’s been badgering me for a whole entire month but I kept putting him off because of...well, because of Jungkook.” I admitted. 

Somi looked worried.

“You want to ? If you don’t we can talk to dad and-”

“No-” I shook my head.” I’m just gonna agree.” 

Somi looked surprised.

“Are you sure? Sera you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-”

I smiled weakly. 

“I’m not going to be allowed to stay single forever Somi. Especially not when the entirety of dad’s day is spent trying to chase suitors away from the door. Do you know the Count from Jeju Do...dude’s a whole seven centuries old and he looks like a toad. He apparently tried to ask about me and Dad’s been freaking out.  “ I shuddered. 

Somi laughed.

“ That’s what you get for being you. But dad’s right. Keeping you away from everyone is only inviting more interest. And we don’t want you to be with someone insufferable.” She ruffled my hair and I hugged her again sighing into her shoulders.

No I didn’t want to be with someone who just saw me as some kind of a possession to be owned. I wanted someone nice and kind. A handsome man who did the right thing .  Someone who maybe, worked hard to give his kid a safe and protected life, someone who didn’t shun away from hard work and was a gentleman as well. 

Someone like-

“Someone other than Jungkook.” Somi said gently reading my mind. 

“I really liked him.” I whispered softly, feeling tears spring again. 

God, I thought I was all out of tears for Jeon Jung Kook but apparently I was wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took extra care with my makeup the next morning, because my father usually had a ton of business meetings during his breakfast. I didn’t usually bother but , I was going to agree to his suggestions today and well, nothing wrong in delighting my father. And nothing made him happier than seeing me prance about  with pretty feminine clothes . 

My dad, for all his jovial cheerful air, loved his position as the head of the Hwang clan. And as his most prized possession , I was the apple of his eye. And while he didn’t treat me as an object or anything ( my dad loved me deeply and his affection was always evident. ) , there was no mistaking the fact that my dad enjoyed the power that came with being my guardian. Powerful men were willing to bend to his will, just for a chance to be with me. 

I sound insufferable, don’t I?

Trust me I’m not. 

The vampires that court me are usually assholes. Entitled, brain dead assholes .  When I opened the door in the morning, dressed in a short summer dress and ready to meet my dad, I was surprised to see Jungkook standing guard outside. He straightened away from the wall where he was fiddling with his phone, his gaze flitting to me, eyes cold and blank. 

I bowed lightly, not smiling.

“Mr. Jeon. I have a breakfast date with my father and then I’ll be heading to the cottage. I’m also meeting a friend of mine at the Art Museum in the evening so i’ll need the Mercedes brought around to pick me up maybe at 5.00PM.” I said briskly, glancing at him. 

My face flamed red when I noticed his gaze, fixed steadily on my ass. I cleared my throat angrily and his eyes met mine, a slow lazy grin playing around his mouth. 

“You look different.” He commented , shamelessly giving me another once over. 

The nerve. 

I swallowed, willing myself not to blush harder.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

He chuckled.

“That dress barely covers your butt, angel. You sure you want to head to daddy dearest, dressed like that?” The way he said daddy made my skin heat up. 

I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

“That’s...that is none of your damn business.” I said shrilly.

He gave me another once over.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you’re into...fine. Let’s go.” 

Gritting my teeth, i tried to keep my face neutral. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not. 

I walked ahead of him , my fists clenched and my jaw tight and I felt incredibly upset because the day had barely begun and I was already wound tight. I was supposed to be relaxed and clear headed while talking to my father but Jeon Jungkook had muddled my brains as usual. 

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. 

“Sera, wait.” His voice made me pause and I stopped, turning around to glare at him.

“What?” I snapped. 

He sighed, deeply. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, tongue pressing into his cheek the way it did when he was upset. 

“About last night-”

I felt my pulse quicken. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” I said quickly, turning back around to leave but his fingers came around my arm, gripping hard . 

“Well tough luck. Because I do!” He said sharply. 

I whimpered, pain blooming up my arm and he swore, loosening his grip.

“I keep forgetting you’re human.” He muttered, “ I’m sorry... I just... I wanted to apologize for how i handled things last night. I was twenty once and I should have been more understanding.”

I closed my eyes. Oh, God no. Please, please for the love of God, let me hate you in peace. Don’t apologize and make me fall in love all over again.

“Its fine.” I choked out. “ You were right. I was out of line.”

“You deserve better.” He said quickly, eyes flitting away from my face and I felt a sharp pang in my heart. God , this was agonizing. 

“Jungkook-”

“It’s just that you’re...well you know who you are. You can’t be with ...someone like me and trust me you don’t want to be with someone like me either. I know its appealing, the whole illusion of stability. older man, has a kid, has his life together .....but that’s not all it means .” He gave me a tired smile.

I bit my lips, ot replying and he went on. 

 “ I have baggage, a shit ton of it and I would have to be especially cruel to unload something like that on a girl barely out of her teens. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of ,....but ruining your life, I’m gonna draw the line there.” He smiled , looking a whole decade younger and I closed my eyes.

I was back to square one, I thought miserably. He had my whole heart. 

“ So we’re good right?” He prompted and I exhaled, giving him a smile.

“We’re good.”

“That’s good. Because my son loves you and I would rather we be friends. You’re just like a daughter to me. ” He touched my face gently, pulling away at once, the small contact leaving fire in its wake and I had to clench my fists . 

A daughter?!! Is he out of his damned mind? 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook, please sit down. You’re like my son and I don’t want you hovering like you’re part of the backdrop. I’ve trusted you with my entire life.” My father beamed, pointing at me and i laughed. 

Jungkook bowed respectfully, taking the chair next to me. 

“How are you , my buttercup?” My father asked softly, fingers gripping mine and I smiled.

“I’m well, father. Do you like my dress?” 

Next to me Jungkook coughed and I shot him a dirty look. 

“It looks ravishing on you. The prettiest flower in my estate is my daughter, do you agree Jungkook?” My father prompted and I swallowed the smirk that threatened. 

Poor Jungkook was going to learn that being my bodyguard meant singing my praises twenty four seven or at least anytime my father was in hearing distance. 

“Uh..” Jungkook’s eyes flitted between the two of us, “ Yes sir. Your daughter is quite lovely.” 

I beamed at him and he looked away quickly. 

Coward. 

Turning back to my dad I held my hand out. 

“DAd, you wanted to see me about something?”

“Yes dearest. You know the Kim clan’s matriarch has been after me. Three of her great great great grandsons have come of age recently. And all three of them are set to take over some very lucrative businesses. They are good men and apparently they’re quite smitten with you. They say you know of them from school?”

I sighed.

“Do you know their names?” I prompted.

“Mingyu, Minjae and Yugyeom.” My father said briskly. 

 Ugh.

 “ They’ve asked me out before, yes.” 

“Uh..Excuse me.. Could I get a refill?” Jungkook said quietly next to me and i turned, watching him wave to one of the footmen. 

“Jungkook, are you thirsty?” My father asked brightly. 

An idea formed in my head, wicked and dangerous. 

“Perhaps, he should get a taste of the Hwang Elixir?” I said innocently. 

My father’s gaze snapped to mine. 

A small frown made its way to his face. 

“Are you sure? I’m not sure if Jungkook would be comfortable-”

I turned to him, purposely flipping my long hair off my shoulders exposing my throat . Jungkook’s eyes went to the curve of my neck at once and i felt a sick sort of triumph when his eyes flashed red.

“Oh, no no...” I crooned, leaning in closer. “ I’m sure you aren’t uncomfortable , are you Jungkook ssi? After all, I am just like a daughter to you , aren’t I?” I stared right at him, fluttering my lashes and I saw his jaw clench. 

“Of course, Ms. Hwang.” He said briskly, glaring at me. I played with the small gold chain around my neck, letting my fingers flutter over my pulse , drawing his gaze there.

“Well, that is true ...” My father looked uncertain, but I gave him a gentle nod and a smile. 

“Well, as a special guest, I suppose you can enjoy our hospitality , Jeon. Why don’t you take a drink from -”

I moved closer, pressing up against him and Jungkook sighed, lips closing over my neck, and I felt my eyes flutter shut at the wet warmth of his mouth . 

It was intoxicating, the way he used one hand to grip my neck gently, the other on my waist to steady me and when his fangs pierced through, I could sense the warm liquid flood his mouth and Jungkook’s entire body relaxed, a strangled moan escaping him. 

“---my daughter’s wrist.” My father finished and I felt Jungkook stiffen next to me. 

This time I couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on my face. 

My eyes dropped to his lap and yup, his pants definitely looked a tad tighter. 

“Did I do good, Mr Jeon? Or should I call you daddy? ” I whispered quietly , fluttering my lashes at him and his fangs retracted and he pulled away from me, shoving me back into my own chair quickly. 

My father was slightly slack jawed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hwang. “ Jungkook muttered and I laughed.

“I do believe it is I whom you should be apologizing to. It is  my  neck you just mauled. ” I smiled brightly staring at Jungkook and if looks could kill, I would have a thousand wooden stakes through my heart right about now. ‘

Take that Mr. Jeon. 

Daughter, my ass. 

“My apologies , Sera.” He said stiffly. 

My father laughed raucously.

“Ahh, you must be used to the neck, my dear boy. understandable understandable. it is how we used to do it in the old days, after all . These younglings with all their etiquette and feminism and what not....it’s hard to keep up..... But now you must tell me? Is my daughter not the sweetest you’ve ever had?” 

I choked, coughing. Oh God, sometimes my 900 year old father had no idea how he sounded. 

Jungkook looked like he had swallowed a lemon. 

“She’s certainly ...” He stopped, probably realizing that any adjective at the end of that sentence would sound entirely wrong. 

“Delicious?” I prompted, blinking innocently and Jungkook shot me another glare. 

“Well, nevermind nevermind. .... So, tell me dearest, will you be willing to meet the Kim boys?”

I sighed.

“I like Yugyeom. I cannot stand Minjae. I don’t know enough about Mingyu to make any judgement. How about I meet Mingyu and if I don’t hit it off with him, I will allow Yugyeom to court me....” I said softly.

I glanced at Jungkook but he was studiously looking away. 

“Very well my dear. Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the museum.”

My father’s eyes widened.

“Well isn’t that a wonderful coincidence. Mingyu's law firm is just a block away if I’m not mistaken. I’ll ask the boy to pick you up afterwards. Have dinner with him and you can tell me tonight of your choice.” My father smiled briskly.

“Yes, father.” 

“Jungkook..” My father prompted and the vampire glanced up.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of her. At the restaurant, make sure you stay at hearing distance. “ 

“Yes sir.” Jungkook bowed and I groaned. 

In other words, let my father know if I behaved appropriately. 

i pouted and my father waggled his finger at me.

“No, no no.. Missy. I’m going to make sure you keep your end of the bargain . You need to give these men a proper chance before you reject them. “ 

I nodded.

“And you must ask Either Somi or Seolhyun to dress you. No jeans or one of those ridiculous gowns that make you look like a pastry.”

There was no mistaking the snort that came from my right and i glared at Jungkook before turning to my dad.

“Yes, father.” 

“Good, now run along the pair of you. “

I stood up, kissing my father fondly on his forehead.

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“You are my whole entire joy, dearest. “ He kissed my hand gently, eyes warm and soft.

As we left the room, Jungkook let out a sigh.

“I am never having a meal with you two again.” He ground out and I laughed. 

“Anything you say, daddy.” I grinned. 

Jungkook groaned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it,  my friend cancelled . 

So at six the evening, I finished locking up the cottage as the last of the kids left, fumbling with the lock while a tired Joo Won napped in his father’s arms, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulders. I felt myself soften at the picture they made, Jungkook singing softly , fingers brushing his son’s hair back as he rocked him gently. 

“I’ll be a while... I needed to get ready. Why don’t you put him to bed? Who’s watching him tonight?”

“Hwasa and Moonbyul offered. I’ll drop you off in your room and head to the north wing. What time are you meeting the jerkwad?” He said casually.

I blinked rapidly, confused.

“I’m sorry... the jerkwad?” 

Jungkook shrugged.

“It’ just a fact. Most men are absolute jerks at twenty one.” He shrugged. 

i felt myself bristling on behalf of the unknown Mingyu.

“That is absolutely unfair. My brothers were incredibly kind and good.”

“To you perhaps. Because they don’t have to impress you. But men act differently when they’re trying to get between a woman’s thighs. They’re jerks when they want to get laid...” He grinned.

“Is that why you act like a jerk to me? ” I smiled evilly and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, darling we both know I don’t have to act in any different way to get you into my bed . I just have to do this.” He smirked, curling his finger in a come hither gesture.  

I felt my pulse pound and I tried not to let his words get to my head. He was flirting , yes but it was a joke. He was joking with me because the very idea of being with me was a joke to him. 

And I couldn’t forget that. 

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the lock a couple more times to make sure the door was well locked. 

“Shall we leave?” He prompted watching me wrestle the backpack onto my shoulders. I grunted under the weight. 

“Of course. Let’s go.” 

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“So, how’s he doing? With stuff?” Jungkook asked gently and I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“He’s very advanced for his age Jungkook. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s able to read and he has a beautiful l writing hand. He’s learned his multiplication tables all the way up to seven and he has the voice of an angel. Which I think he gets from you. ” I smiled, reaching out to brush the back of Joowon’s head. 

Jungkook smiled softly, the late evening sun painting his perfect features in a soft golden glow. 

“Your father was kind enough to support me the first few years when i had him. I didn’t trust anyone enough to leave him with them and well... i needed to put a roof over our head.” He sighed . 

I touched his arm, giving it a small squeeze.

“I understand. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll grow up well in our clan.   “

“And he has a lot of excellent men to look up to here...He needs a good role model, someone kind and amazing who can inspire him to be hardworking and fair. ” He smiled.

I bit my lips.

“I think he’s had that all along. ” I said quietly.

Jungkook’s breath caught for a second and the air between us changed. I licked my lips. 

“Jungkook you’re a good father. You know that right?” I said after a few more seconds of silence. 

He laughed.

“Am I really? I wonder.” 

“He loves you.” I breathed , “  You’re all he talks about.... Today, one of the other kids tried to say that his father was brave because he helped someone who was stuck in an elevator. you know what Joowon did? He listed some twenty different incidents where you’ve helped people out....And he looked so proud.”

Jungkook’s ear looked red in the brightly lit garden. 

“i was just doing my job. Most of those times, I was in danger.” He grunted. 

“And yet, you did the right thing. “ I whispered. “ And your son was watching. And he’s learned the importance of doing the right thing even when you’re scared. That’s a life lesson that isn’t easy to learn.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” He chuckled. I grabbed his arm forcing him to stop. 

I had to tell him this. 

 “ Jungkook, when immortality is on the plate, people don’t give much value to morals. They don’t always care about doing the right thing.... . Its how our kind functions. Consequences don’t mean much when you have a whole eternity to fix your mistakes.....So I always admire vampires who value morals. “ I smiled, “ To see a five year old with such a well formed moral compass... it tells me that you’re an amazing father. Possibly the best I’ve ever met. “ I reached out, to hold his hand, wanting to touch him in some way, to make him believe that I was completely honest. 

“Sera!!!!!!” My sister’s voice made me jump and Jungkook stepped away as well. 

“Dad told me you’re going on a date? I’ve picked out an outfit for you!! But you need to take a shower! You cannot show up smelling like diapers and spit-up.” She called. 

I groaned. 

“Time for the ugly duckling to transform into a swan, I see?” He said gently. 

“Your son’s favorite fairytale.” I whispered.

“He makes me read it every night.” 

“I would like to sit in on that someday.” I laughed.

His eyes met mine. 

“You’re always welcome, Ms Hwang,” He smiled politely. “ Someday soon maybe your kids and my son would be friends.” 

And just like that the wall grew between us. 

His kids and my kids. 

Not our kids because he wasn’t for me. 

He would never be for me. 

I felt the sudden inexplicable urge to cry. 

Turning away, I began following my sister as she waved to me. . 

“I’ll be at your door at seven.” He called out behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[a-n-conrad]

Painting (Steve Rogers x Reader)

[Summary: You decide to paint your friend, Steve Rogers, realizing that no one had ever painted him without his uniform. However, things start to get heated after you start to daydream during your painting session. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT (18+, but with emotions), Not Canon Compliant (Because fuck you, Marvel.), Swearing, unprotected vaginal sex

Request: From my request survey (https://forms.gle/D9rsJtkERoBPaKvv8)]

You and Steve Rogers were widely considered to be an unlikely pair. There were a lot of things that you didn’t exactly agree on. Steve was a lot more social, being bold and outgoing. You were a bit quieter, preferring to avoid the company of a crowd. Steve was prone to waking up early to exercise. You stayed up into the quiet hours of the night, choosing instead to get a majority of your sleep in the morning. You weren’t exactly fond of Steve’s workout routines either, though you would join him on a short jog on occasion.

While you were technically considered an Avenger, you were really only brought out to fight for emergency circumstances. You had some incredibly powerful, incredibly volatile powers, but you really had no interest in using them unless it was completely needed. So you ended up making a few deals. You’d be treated like an Avenger, but you were basically benched unless some drastic, world-ending issue came up. So until then, you were kept on hold in Avengers Tower, spending most of your time painting in the studio that Tony had gotten set up for you.

Despite this power, and despite your title as an official Avenger, you were still a bit of an outsider among the team. You tended not to talk to them a lot, becoming a bit easily overwhelmed by the chaos that the team seemed to radiate. But surprisingly, you and Steve got along incredibly well.

You had originally bonded over your love of art. You loved Steve’s drawings. You admired the linework and shading in his drawings. He could do so much with just a pen, let alone if you gave him a few colors. He admired the amount of emotion you managed to instill into every single painting that you made. No matter what you painted, whether it was a portrait, a landscape, or something entirely different, it was always filled to the brim with the emotion that you had felt while painting it. It was like looking through a window into your soul. It was so honest and refreshing.

Eventually the two of you started to talk a bit more while you worked. It started pretty tame, just discussions of how your day was or general questions about each other like “What’s your favorite color”. But eventually you moved on to the harsher topics of your lives. Steve would talk about how exhausting it was to be the face of America, to be held on such a pedestal while also being expected to sacrifice everything at the drop of a hat. You talked about how cold and dehumanizing it felt to be seen by the American government as nothing more than a weapon, a walking nuclear bomb.

Your struggles overlapped at certain points. You both spent a lot of your time being used by the government. You were both seen as tools more than you were seen as people by a lot of the general public. You were a weapon and he was an idol, some sort of trophy. So you bonded a lot over your shared struggles as you talked to each other and worked on art side by side. And when the hard stuff got a bit too heavy, you’d sit and talk about art. About subjects that you just loved to add to all of your work. About what each shade of every color meant to you, about the emotions that you saw in every tiny color shift.

It was so nice, for both of you, to have something like that. The studio that you spent time in was so safe and peaceful for both of you, since the other Avengers tended to avoid it. And the two of you had started to see through each other’s masks enough to truly get to know each other. Steve couldn’t remember the last time someone had known him as Steve Rogers more than they had known him as Captain America. He had Bucky, but Bucky was far too busy with his own issues for Steve to even consider burdening him with anything else. But with you he could truly be himself, even if that meant getting angry, sad, or frustrated.

So the two of you had become incredibly close, despite your differences. And every day that you had some free time without any big meeting or mission, you would be in the studio helping each other with art. It was a good way for you to relieve stress, just relaxing with each other. It was one of those days that you came to a realization.

- - - - -

“Has anyone ever painted you?” You asked suddenly one day as the two of you sat side by side in the art studio. He looked a bit surprised, and then he looked confused.

“Of course. There are murals of me up all over the place, (Y/n).”

“No, there are murals of Captain America,” you responded, shaking your head, “They don’t really look that much like you. You really only look like that when you’re working as Captain America. So has anyone ever painted you? As Steve Rogers?”

He looked surprised again. And you could tell as the emotions cycled through his face that he didn’t really know how to respond. You supposed it was a bit of an odd question. And you knew that it was a bit odd to think of someone and their superhero persona as two different people, but Steve couldn’t disagree. He wasn’t Captain America all the time, and he loved that you understood that, “I suppose I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess not.”

You hummed a bit, “That’s a shame. It feels like a waste that everyone paints a costume. You should let me paint you sometime.”

You said it in a way that he wasn’t sure if you were serious. Your face was entirely serious when you said it, but you said it so casually, not even really looking at him, “Really?”

You finally looked up at him, noticing the pure confusion on his face, “Of course. I mean, you’d have to sit still for a while, but honestly, you could probably just sit and sketch for a while. You just seem too good of a subject to not be painted without the costume.”

Steve wasn’t really one to blush, but it was quite the compliment coming from you. He had women trying to hit on him all the time now, being Captain America, but that never really felt heartfelt. It had been a fairly long time since he had actually felt a real connection with someone. But to hear you compliment him, thinking of him as Steve Rogers instead of Captain America, made his heart flutter a bit. And the fact that he knew that you were rather picky about the subject you painted only made it more effective.

“I, uh, think that’d be cool,” He responded as soon as he was sure that he could trust his voice not to crack, though he couldn’t hide the slight stutter. It was honestly endearing how much his personality changed when he wasn’t working. While he was still headstrong and stubborn, he was a bit less confident. He knew he could win a fight. He knew that he looked good on television. But he didn’t really know how to interact with people in the new modern age. He was lucky to have the friends that he did. At least, that’s how he felt about it.

“Wonderful,” You hummed, starting to put away all of your supplies, “Why don’t we pack it up for the day and I can start painting you tomorrow if we aren’t too busy?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

- - - - -

The next day was surprisingly slow. You had to say that you were thankful. You had been looking forward to getting to paint Steve, even though you knew it was making him a little nervous. You were honestly excited to have a new project, and part of you was excited for the opportunity to stare at Steve for a bit without it being considered weird. He was easy to admire, both physically and on a personal level, so you found yourself staring more often than you’d like to admit. You were pretty sure that you had been lucky enough to avoid being caught though.

He was physically gorgeous. Obviously. But something about the way that he looked when he was drawing was nearly angelic. The way he furrowed his brows just a little and turned his paper at odd angles to make sure that the proportions of his sketches were right was adorable. The look in his eyes when his work started to come together made your heart melt. When he got a bit frustrated and would run a hand through his hair you could feel your heart skip a beat. You felt a bit dumb to be drooling over your friend, but you had to admit you were falling pretty hard for him. So you’d use this painting as an excuse to admire him without any questions.

He was already blushing a bit when he came into the studio, and you had a feeling that part of it was from Tony teasing him. He had a habit of giving the two of you a bit of a hard time about how much time you spent together. But the blush was still adorable. Something about Steve when he was nervous stole your heart. He was surprisingly soft when he had the space to be.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” He asked as he strode over to your work station that you had already gotten set up.

“Just pull a chair up in front of me. You can get comfortable, start sketching, and I’ll get a base outline and block out as much as I can. Just let me know if you need a break and try not to change your pose too much. At least until I can get all of the base shapes right,” You instructed, trying to keep your voice even. You were surprised at how well you managed to hide the fact that you were completely lovesick.

“Alright, sounds good,” He responded, pulling up a chair and getting himself situated. He crossed one of his legs over the other, resting his ankle on his other thigh to give himself a place to set his sketchbook. You tossed him his pencil once he got himself settled, and then you got to work.

You had to admit you had started to get a bit frustrated with how easily you managed to get distracted by him while you were trying to paint. You had hoped that maybe painting him would help. You had no reason to get distracted from your painting when you were painting him. At least, that’s what you had thought before you started sketching out the form.

You felt yourself losing focus as your brush moved smoothly, the incredibly thin, light paint building a form that you found yourself wanting to know a bit more intimately. You tried your best to stay focused on the canvas in front of you, but you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting. You imagined what his body looked like under his clothes as you blocked out the lights and shadows of the fabric that rested over his abs. And the vivid image in your brain, the detailed picture of his body that you had conjured up in front of you, followed your brush as you worked.

The brush slid smoothly across the canvas, outlining his muscles, almost all of which showed through his thin t-shirt. Your brain almost instantly conjured up a matching image, the fantasy becoming more and more dynamic as you went on. It shifted from regular images of what his abs looked like when he was shirtless to more detailed images. Thoughts of his biceps flexing a bit as he held himself over you, his arms covered in sweat. Thoughts of his hands sliding across your skin. It only got worse as you moved down, eventually reaching the point between his legs.

“(Y/n)? Are you alright?” Steve’s voice finally broke you from your thoughts, his eyes which had been focused intently on his drawing when you had last looked were now trained on your face, scanning for any sign as to what was causing you to space out, “You don’t normally get distracted when you’re painting, is everything alright?”

“Oh,” You tried your best to pull yourself back to reality, though the fantasies seemed to be burned into your brain, “Yeah, sorry. I was, uh, spacing out a bit.”

“Do you want to take a break for a bit? Maybe we should get up and stretch,” He suggested. You nodded in response, hoping it would help you refocus on your painting.

It didn’t help much, though, as Steve stood, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt lifted up just enough to show some skin, and his pants were riding fairly low. Your eyes almost involuntarily moved to look at him, landing right about the button to the jeans that he was wearing. The muscles in his hips and stomach formed an almost perfect V shape leading into his pants.

“(Y/N)?” You had been caught staring. You tried your best to look casual, relaxing your posture. Your mistake was to try to lean on the table, setting your hand directing on your palette, which was covered in paints.

You froze, and Steve’s eyes landed on your hand, the red and blue paint gushing out from the sides. You felt like an awkward teenager, doing stupid ridiculous shit in front of your crush. You watched intently for a reaction from Steve, not really knowing what to do and hoping that the way that he reacted would give you something easy to respond to.

He raised one of his eyebrows at you, a look of confusion, with a small hint of amusement under the surface painted across his face, “You seem to have set your hand in your paint.”

“Uh, yes, it would seem so,” You responded awkwardly, finally lifting your hand out of the paint. You still really weren’t sure what to say, and not knowing where to put your hand so that you wouldn’t smear any paint anywhere wasn’t really making you feel any better. You cleared your throat a bit, trying to think of something smart to say, something that wouldn’t signal exactly how far gone you were into your fantasies, but instead you just signaled to Steve how flustered you were.

You knew that Steve had never been the biggest ladies’ man. From what he had told you, he was actually pretty awkward growing up, but the confidence that washed over him as he finally figured out what was getting you so flustered was visible. He walked closer to you, standing close enough to emphasize how tall he was, “Got something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh, uh,” You stuttered, not sure what to say. You could tell that he knew from the smirk on his face, but you could feel your face heating up as you thought about explaining your fantasizing to Steve. He smirked even more as you got visibly flustered.

“It’s okay, honey, I don’t mind if you stare a little,” He said, standing a bit closer, his hand moving to hold your chin. You swallowed deeply as his fingers brushed against your skin softly. Your eyes locked with his as his hand tilted your chin up just a little.

As much as he was keeping up his confident, masculine persona, you could see the complete warmth in his eyes. He softened completely when you looked at him, pure admiration in your eyes. He had to admit it warmed his heart to see you looking at him like that, like he was your whole world. And maybe it was because he felt the same way. He had been falling in love with you slowly, and as he looked at you, he wanted to find every way possible to express it.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his voice soft.

“Please.”

His lips were much softer than you thought they’d be, but you didn’t think about it too much as his lips moved against your own. It was soft at first, but it began to escalate quickly, getting rough and more passionate. His hands moved to your waist, pulling your body into his own, and your hands moved to his face, too focused on the kiss to notice the fact that you were smearing paint across his cheek.

He pulled back, allowing you to get a breath of air. That was when you noticed the red and blue streaks across his cheek, “Shit, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about,” He brushed it off, before pulling you into another kiss. He truly didn’t seem to care at all about the paint, choosing instead to focus on you.

This kiss started off much more passionate, building even further. Before long he pulled away again, pulling a groan from your mouth as you instinctively wanted more. Your complaints were silenced, though, as he began to kiss down your neck, nipping slighting at a few select spots, leaving marks for you to see later.

“If you want me to stop, just say it,” He said, as his hands started to move towards the hem of your shirt. He was moving slowly, giving you the chance to stop him at any point. You didn’t.

Before long, your clothes were entirely discarded, scattered haphazardly across the floor. Steve’s followed shortly. Neither of you could keep your hands to yourself, feeling the curves of each other's bodies as you continued to kiss. Both of you were desperate, the tension that neither of you even realized had been building finally crashing to the ground around you, any sort of restraint being thrown out the window.

However, you had to take a few moments to admire his body. You knew that it was perfect, he was a super soldier, of course it’s perfect, but you didn’t really know how perfect until it was right in front of you. There was no way you could’ve imagined it in a way that did it true justice. The warmth under his skin, the pace of his breathing, the firm feeling of his grip on your waist. Those were things that you could never have imagined fully.

He lifted you up without any issue, placing his hands under your thighs, carrying you to the work table and setting you on a clear section of the table without breaking the kiss. His hands slid across the tops of your thighs before grabbing your hips. Yours moved from his cheeks to rest on his bare chest, smearing a bit more paint across his scalped chest. You could feel his erection brush against your leg as he leaned over you, the two of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

You were breathing heavily, your brain clouded with need, both new and left over from your earlier fantasies. Fantasies that were coming true, “Please, Steve.”

“What is it, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, looking down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire, “What do you want?”

You began to grind against his thigh without really thinking about it. He had to admit that something about you needing him this much turned him on, but he wanted to wait until you said it before he did anything, “Please fuck me.”

He would’ve liked to have a bit more foreplay, but both of you were so needy, having built up to this for so long with so little release until now. So he complied with your request. He pulled you quickly to the edge of the table. You were forced to lay your upper body down completely so that he could pull your hips to hang over the edge a bit. He took a few moments to rub himself against the entrance to your pussy, coating the head of his cock with liquid that was practically dripping from your pussy. Finally, he pushed himself into you slowly, making sure to monitor your reaction for any sort of discomfort. You were indulging in the feeling of him slowly stretching you out, completely enjoying the feeling of having him as close to you as possible.

He started moving after he was sure that you were comfortable, his hands beginning to wander your body, squeezing at your hips and breasts, basically any part of you that had a bit of squish, something for him to grab. His mouth latched on to the base of your neck, leaving a deep, dark hickey. You could feel every movement of his hips, his cock brushing against your internal walls again with each thrust.

You couldn’t hold back your moans as he found the perfect spot to hit, one of his hands gripping one of your hips tightly to hold you in place as his thrusts gained momentum. He started picking up speed a bit, taking care to continue to hit the spot that made you moan the loudest. His other hand slid down further, his fingers making their way between your folds. He was surprisingly quick to find your clit, not that you were complaining. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head as he started to rub small circles over it, keeping pace with his thrusts.

You were practically putty in his hands, falling apart as he found every way to make you moan. Touch, squeezing, kissing, and biting exactly where you needed him to. You had no idea how he knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t really care as a knot began to build in the pit of your stomach.

You practically screamed his name as the knot finally snapped, Steve continuing his motions, continuing to rub your clit, as you rode out your climax, your whole body feeling as though fireworks were shooting through your veins. Your walls tightened with the waves of your orgasms, the fluttering feeling clear to Steve as he continued to bury himself inside of you. Soon after your climax finished, you could feel his thrust begin to get a bit sloppy, focus clear on his face as he tried his best to hold on longer.

He couldn’t hold on that long, though, soon giving in to the building pleasure. He came hard, his hips snapping into your own and his head being buried in your neck to hide his curses as he came completely undone. You could feel the thick hot ropes of his cum coating your insides as he finished. You both stayed like that for a few moments in order to catch your breath.

As you started to come back to reality, you finally noticed the mess you had made. Steve’s hair was a mess, blue paint sticking some of the tips together. You couldn’t even remember when you had grabbed his hair, but the paint smears left a clear map of where your hand had wandered. The blue and red stripes across his face and chest were clear, too. In fact, you had gotten paint all over his sculpted body, the blue smears outlining his muscles.

“We should probably clean up and get back to work, huh?” He eventually sighed, his eyes never leaving your body.

“I suppose.”

(A/N: Thanks for reading! If you want to send me a tip for my writing feel free to tip me over venmo! My venmo is Al3x13l. Tips aren't required, but as a broke college student, they are appreciated.)

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Spiderbug Siblings

Peter sighed to himself struggling not to pout as he sat through the meeting. He was continuously reminding himself that he was the one that begged his father to bring him along, but he didn't think it was going to be this boring. Usually he was more than happy to take over different things at SI to give his father a break, such as paper work and meetings his dad really-really didn't want to go to. However this meeting had sucked his soul out ten minutes in. He missed the glances he was getting from said father, who had noticed his son's complete and utter boredom. 

Tony struggled not to smirk as his son deflated. He had warned him that this meeting was the worst one he'd ever been to. Tony discreetly moved his hands under the table, flicking his right wrist causing a holographic keyboard to appear on his forearm. He quickly typed out a message before sending it to Peter.

Peter's wristwatch vibrated softly, alerting him to the message. He moved his left arm under the table before flicking it allowing the message to appear across his arm. 

'Kiddo, go ahead and stand up saying this in french. "Ladies, Gentlemen, I hate to cut this short but unfortunately I have another meeting to get to. My father however will be remaining behind, I sincerely hope our business deal goes through." Then go have some fun, I know you're dying inside right now so go.' 

Peter closed his eyes smiling softly before giving his father a barely noticeable nod, standing up and apologizing in French. He shook a few people's hands before giving them a bright smile and a nod to his dad, turning and leaving the room.

"Je me suis demandé quand il allait enfin s'ennuyer.(1)" One of the women said, turning to Tony with a teasing smile, causing him to burst into laughter. 

Peter was more than happy to strip out of the suit and into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt with a silly science meme, his black converse and a green hoodie. He had planned to go check out the young man that applied to MIT and the Stark Industries Internship Program after the meeting, however he thought now would be better than ever. Peter knew that after a quick talk with the Principal he'd be allowed to sit in on the class in the back unannounced to see Max Kanté in action. He ran a hand through his hair before checking his phone's battery life, satisfied that it was at seventy-eight percent. His Stark watch was at sixty-five percent as well, so he knew that he'd only have to charge them once he got back to Le Grand Paris. Pulling out the file on Max, he decided that walking to Lycée Françoise Dupont would be rather relaxing and give him the time to stretch his legs. Plus if his calculations were right, which they usually always were, he'd be there by lunch time. Giving him enough time to talk with the Principal and the man's teacher, then find a place to sit in the back. While leaving the luxury hotel he put on his Edith sunglasses watching as directions to the school popped up, then pulled his hood up, and placed his Stark buds in. He left giving little more than a glance to the paparazzi planted firm outside, he knew they'd be waiting to get pictures of his father or him, after all their pictures sold for big bucks. He fidgeted nervously with his sunglasses until he was finally out of the paparazzi's sight. Letting out a breath he took out his phone hitting play on his album filled with Ella Fitzgerald music. He relaxed listening to it allowing the glasses to guide him through Paris. 'I really need to convince dad to market these. After the failure that Google created people would be skeptical, but having the Stark logo on it would cause many to trust them.' Peter thought about it drawing up blueprints in his head as he walked not paying attention to the outside world. Definitely not noticing the car heading towards him as he crossed the street heading to the school, until his senses started screaming at him.

"Monsieur, soyez prudent!(2)" Marinette cried out as she ran towards Peter tackling him back onto the sidewalk, his hood dropping and his sunglasses flying off his face. The car honked loudly as it skidded to a stop. Both teens turned to it wide eyed and apologizing profusely, in near panic attack states which ended up with the driver worried for them. They waved him on both stating that they were fine and just in a little bit of shock as they sat side by side on the sidewalk.

"Thank you." Peter said after a few moments of them just taking deep breaths together. Marinette looked up at him, blue-grey eyes meeting toffee brown eyes, before she glanced away. She picked up his sunglasses holding them out to him with a tired smile.

"English, yes? You're quite far from home are you not Mister? After all your accent is clearly not British so I'm assuming the States, not the south though I'm thinking from the north maybe the east?" Peter blinked in surprise, finally taking in the young woman that had saved him. Marinette was side sitting leaning against the light pole next to her. Midnight black hair was pulled into a long fishtail braid that went past her waist, Peter knew that once out of the braid her hair would be even longer. Her clothes were designer, M.D. specifically, something that would cause his dad slight annoyance since the designer still hadn't gotten back to him. She wore a soft pink cold shoulder tunic sweater, with black jeans that were loose enough for full mobility but tight enough not to sag or get caught on anything. She had a black and pink backpack on and a small matching purse, both clearly made by M.D. as well. He smiled politely, taking his sunglasses back and carefully sliding them into his pocket. 

"Yes I'm from the States. New York to be specific but I've traveled all over. You speak English?" He asked before adjusting his position sitting criss-cross in front of her. Marinette laughed softly nodding.

"I have learned a few languages, French is obviously my first, English was my fourth and hardest to learn!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes and throwing her arms up in exasperation. Peter laughed loudly nodding his head with a slight smirk.

"Ah yes, English is hard and weird. For instance read and lead rhyme, and read and lead rhyme. But read and lead don't rhyme, and neither do read and lead!" Peter said his smirk grew when Marinette groaned glaring at him before punching him softly in the arm. "Sorry, sorry I had to do it." Peter said rubbing his arm as they settled down. Marinette simply rolled her eyes shaking her head. "But seriously thank you, not many people would risk themselves to save another. You're amazing Miss." Marinette gave him a sad smile not meeting his eyes anymore.

"Well, I'm afraid not many people think that about me. Besides it was the right thing to do, I couldn't just let you get hit when I could do something." Suddenly her purse shifted slightly almost like something inside was moving to press closer to the girl. Peter just barely noticed it, but could tell the girl took note of it right away. She stood up brushing the dirt off her pants, and Peter followed her up. "I'm afraid I must go, we've already spent quite a bit of time sitting here and if I want something to eat before my next class I must go. Au revoir Monsieur." Marinette turned heading down the street to a cafe, Peter turned watching her go but not moving.

"Wait!" He called out quickly shocking himself and the girl as she turned around curiously. "What's your name?" He asked, blinking when a mischievous smile covered the girls face.

"My name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way, and I'll see you around." Peter's eyes widened and a burst of laughter left him causing the girls eyes to alight with mischief. "I'll see you around Monsieur." She said before continuing on, Peter watching her as she leaves. He resisted jumping when Karen talked to him over his Stark buds.

"That was a meme was it not? Searching the web for it, oh. I understand that, that was very funny, yes? After all I believe this is what one would call a 'crack' fic." Peter held back his laughter as he crossed the street continuing to the school. He really hoped he'd see the girl again, he knew his dad would love her. He himself already felt a connection to the girl that had saved his life. He walked into the school heading to the office. He greeted the office secretary explaining why he was there and asking to talk with the Principal Damocles and Mr. Kanté's teacher Ms. Bustier. The secretary was quick to let him in and summon Bustier to the office. Peter took the time to explain to Principal Damocles that he simply wished to sit in the back of the class and observe the young man. Damocles was quick to please Peter, and it didn't escape his notice causing his opinion of the Principal to drop. He was quick to introduce himself when Bustier arrived, but allowed Damocles to explain what was going on. Ms. Bustier quickly agreed before escorting Peter back to her class room, telling him all about her class. He barely paid attention however once he realized that she was attempting to take complete credit for her students accomplishments. That was until she mentioned her 'bad egg' at least in her opinion.

"I just don't know what happened, Marinette used to be such a good student. She was the class role model, and everyone would go to her when they needed help. Then out of nowhere she just started bullying this girl that joined my class! She told me the girl was faking everything no matter how much I told her that the girl's condition was no excuse to treat her like that. I kept trying to get her on the right path but couldn't. Now she just sits in the back of the class and no one will talk to her. I've even had to exclude her from class outings because she still won't leave the girl alone! Honestly I always told her that no one will get better if you don't give them chances. Lila won't become a better person if Marinette continues to target and try to expose her. I'm just glad that Adrien is on my side and agrees." Peter frowned, giving the teacher's back a dirty look as he took in what she said, piecing a few things together. 'So this student is a pathological liar, but they're covering for her with some lying condition. Marinette, who was the designated role model, caught on and tried to expose her. However, Bustier and Adrien don't agree so they allow her to be excluded. Wow, I really hope Mr. Kanté does not fall for the lies. I'd hate for his intelligence to go to waste. After all not everyone can create a highly-functional robot, that manages to develop emotions on its own. Falling for lies is something that would hurt him incredibly in the eyes of SI.' Peter smiled politely when the teacher turned to him once they arrived at the door.

"Would you like a seat at the front Mr. Stark?" Bustier asked as she opened the door walking in with him behind her, Peter shook his head as he took in the room. "We only have two seats open one in the front and one in the back." Bustier finished turning and watching Peter look around the room.

"No," he said, not missing as she tensed up slightly. "I need to be able to observe Mr. Kanté. If I sit in the front everyone will notice me turned to look at him. I'll take the back seat, where does he sit now?" Bustier glanced at the spot at the front where Chloe Bourgeois used to sit, and then the one in back by Marinette.

"Are you sure Mr. Stark? Unfortunately the one in the back is by my problem student and I'd rather you not get a bad impression of the class because of her." Peter gave her a tight smile as she rambled on about why it would be better for him to sit in the front. He let out a sigh as she continued on, and wished his father was with him. Knowing Tony wouldn't care about being rude to the women, where Peter himself couldn't pull the courage up.

"Yes Ms. Bustier I am positive. I will take the seat in the back, now please tell me where Mr. Kanté sits and then where my seat will be." Bustier sighed knowing that she wouldn't win this one, she had hoped she could convince him to sit there. That way he could see the entirety of the class and they would see him, the class would also know to behave themselves. They won't pay much attention to him when they walk in and he is sitting in the back. 

"Very well, Max sits on the left side, third row and closest to the window. Your seat will be on the right side, last row and next to the wall. Peter nodded before thanking her and walking up to his temporary seat, sitting down and pulling out his phone. "Lunch ends in twenty minutes so the classroom will slowly start filling up." He gave her a smile showing that he heard her before returning to his phone. He pulled up his group chat with Shuri, MJ, and Ned, knowing that it was almost seven am in New York, and that Shuri only slept when forced to. He smiled reading the argument between Ned and MJ.

Guy in the Chair- I don't want to eat at Veselka after school today! I want to eat at Lil' Frankie's!

MJ- I can almost hear you whining through my phone screen. Send me a picture of the face you're making, I want to add it to my sketch book.

Guy in the Chair- Seriously MJ?

Guy in the Chair-  I'm not sending you a picture of my face.

Princess Memes a lot- You Americans are so silly. Here MJ.

Image.pn

Guy in the Chair-...

Guy in the Chair- Seriously?

Guy in the Chair- Did you seriously hack my phone to send her a picture of me?

Princess Memes a lot- Hack is such a strong word, I simply introduced my computer to your phone's systems.

Guy in the Chair- I hate this. I can't do anything in retaliation, chemistry is what I'm good at not technology. I can't get revenge. Peter help me bro!

Peter-man- Sorry Ned, I'm not going up against Shuri. She is scary smart, and I'd rather live to see Captain America and his group of runaways finally realize all the changes we've made to the Accords.

Princess Memes a lot- Listen to my favorite colonizer Nedy-boy.

Peter-man- Awe, I'm your favorite colonizer? I thought for sure it would be my Dad.

Princess Memes a lot- Oh no, I do love you father. You and him are some of the only people that can give me a challenge. On top of that he got so excited when he discovered I was smarter than him, I thought for sure he'd want to adopt me.

Peter-man- Oh dad did, however you're a Princess and dad knows his money would get him nowhere in Wakanda. Instead he has settled for us being friends, that way he can subtly drop hints to invite you over for some science time.

Peter-man- I'll talk with you all later have a good day in classes MJ, Ned. And Shuri please get some sleep, I'd rather your brother not blame us for keeping you up again.

Guy in the Chair- Bye Peter!

MJ-middle finger emoji*

Princess Memes a lot- He can't force me to sleep if he can't find me!!

Peter- Love you too MJ and good luck with that Shuri.

Peter placed his phone down as people slowly made their way into the classroom. It was obvious to him that none even noticed him as they talked together excitedly. The volume of the class got louder until four people walked in, everyone was zeroing in on the girl hanging off the blonde's arm. Peter grimaced at her terrible hair style and decided that MJ would love to draw this girl, so he held up his phone taking a picture of her. He noticed a girl slip in behind them but his attention was stolen by the girl once again as she continued her story.

"Oh Alya! You would absolutely love New York city!! I'll have to see if Tony will allow you to come with me next time!" The girl said fairly loud her smile was bright but Peter could spot a fake smile from miles away. He'd learned that skill rather fast as he grew up, after all he needed to when his father was in one of his spirals. "Oh! I suppose I should let you know since I trust you so much! By Tony I mean Tony Stark!" She said giggling behind her hand as everyone gasped in surprise. "You see he is like a father to me! Him and his son Parker love me! We're like this!" She crossed her fingers winking at her classmates. Peter tensed fisting his hands trying to control his anger as he looked at Ms. Bustier who wouldn't not even turn around when the lie left her students lips. He watched as the students all sat down in their seats but they were all turned to the liar listening intensely. 

"Wow you're that close to Tony Stark? I just applied for his internship program a few weeks ago, I haven't heard anything yet though." Max said excitedly as he pulled out his things for class. Lila immediately zeroed in on him, her eyes gleaming.

"Oh Max! I'll send Parker a message right away and tell him all about you! You know he runs the Internship Program there! Tony asked me to but I told him I just couldn't leave Paris for good until after school! I also told him he really needs to give Parker a chance!" She glanced around worriedly before turning to Alya. "You can post this if you want, but you didn't hear it from me okay? You see guys Parker had a rough time these past couple years. He fell into the wrong group of people and started bullying, drinking, and doing drugs! It was terrible and Tony was just heartbroken! I could barely console him, he almost kicked Parker out! I convinced him to give Parker a second chance though, and he is getting better, unlike someone we know...but Tony still doesn't trust him fully, so I thought Parker would be able to prove himself if he did good with the program. Unfortunately he does struggle so I have to help him a lot, but Tony cannot know that! Their relationship is finally fixing!" Peter's anger grew even more and it took all his control not to stand up and fight the girl right there. That is when he noticed Marinette sitting besides him tense as well but glaring at the desk and not Lila. "Well hello there Ebony." He said softly startling her slightly, Marinette looked up at him in slight shock as he smiled mischievously at her. "I must say, you look very different from the Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way that I've read about." Marinette blushed embarrassed before she let out a soft giggle covering her face with her hands.

"Oh my gooood," she said, dragging out the word. "I said that thinking I would probably never see you again, and now you're sitting next to me. God I don't know if you're there, but please kill me." Peter snorted softly but both of their eyes were on Lila again as she began talking about Tony and his son 'Parker' once again. 

"Lying little squirrel." Peter mumbled glaring at the girl. "Parker Stark? Really did she even do her research? It's Peter Stark and the fact that Kanté is falling for her lies and trying to get in the easy way. This makes my decision easier." He opened the folder turning to Marinette holding out a hand. "May I borrow a pen Ms. Ebony." Marinette snorted, shaking her head and handing him a pen. He wrote denied across the paper and took a picture with his phone sending it to his dad before closing the folder and returning her pen.

"My name isn't Ebony obviously, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She said politely holding her hand out to shake, he shook it gently as she spoke again. "Are you a new student?" Peter chuckled smiling a little awkwardly as he shook his head.

"No I was here to observe Mr. Kanté in the classroom, ah let me introduce myself. Peter Stark, or from what the liar is calling me, Parker Stark." He rolled his eyes in exasperation, his smile still awkward. Marinette's eyes widened in slight shock as she started rambling to herself about how she tackled Tony Stark's son to the ground. Peter watched for a moment slightly amused at the woman's ramblings before squeezing her hand gently. "Listen, don't worry about it. If anything my dad would be thanking you profusely for saving me there. He wouldn't be upset, however once he hears about that little squirrel's lies. He will be more than pissed." Marinette snorted softly at his nickname for Lila; shel smirked, shaking her head. "Which by the way, can I get her full name? I want to have my lawyers here and ready with paperwork before I return to the states in five days." Her smirk grew as she pulled out a notebook and quickly wrote Lila's full name down before pausing and thinking a sadistic gleam in her eyes. Marinette turned to Peter tilting her head to the side innocently. "Tell me Parker Stark," she said using Lila's mess up causing him to laugh under his breath. "Do you happen to know Bruce Wayne or his kids?" Peter quirked an eyebrow before nodding and telling her that he was very close with Bruce's eldest son. "Well you see the little squirrel, as you call her has also lied about him and a few others." She turned back to the paper steadily making a list of all the people.

Tony and Peter Stark

The Wayne family

Lois Lane and Clark Kent

Jagged Stone

Clara Nightingale 

The Justice League

The Avengers

M.D. Clothing

The sadistic glint didn't leave her eyes as a plan formed in her head. "You see, I can get in contact with Jagged, Clara, and M.D. if you can get a hold of the others. We could sue her all at once for slander and defamation of character. If you do this I'll convince M.D. to finally take your dad on as clientele." Peter grinned at her and held out his hand, shaking hers once she grabbed his. 

"Well, my father would strangle me if I passed on an opportunity for him to finally get a M.D. suit and dress combo for him and mom. So you've got yourself a deal Miss Dupain-Cheng. If you can get Jagged, Clara, and M.D. on video chat, I can get the others. Do you think you could meet dad and me at Le Grand Paris tonight?" Marinette smirked a twinkle in her eye as Bustier called for the class's attention. Marinette rolled her, before turning to the front of the class.

"Since I am currently living at Le Grand Paris I can definitely meet you. Oh, Jagged and M.D. will be there in person. They live in Paris, Clara however is currently in Africa helping build houses, so we may be able to get her on a phone call but not video chat." Peter slumped in the chair and leaned over towards her slightly. "How about I give you a ride back then since we'll be going to the same place?" Marinette quirked an eyebrow before smiling and leaning against him getting comfortable in her seat.

"Very well Parker, I'll tell my driver I have a ride. Now don't move, you're quite comfortable." Peter snorted softly nodding before turning his eyes back on Max.

'It's a shame I was rather hopeful about him. I thought he'd be a great addition, if only he hadn't fallen for the squirrel.' He turned his gaze away and zeroed in on Bustier who was looking up at them. He could already tell that she wanted to reprimand Marinette for leaning against him. As she opened her mouth Peter sent her a sharp glare, staring her down until she looked away nervously. He sighed looking out the window in annoyance.

'Great, now I'm stuck here. At least I have Mari to keep me entertained judging by her eyes she is clearly zoned out. Something tells me she already knows what this sham of a teacher is going to be teaching today. She is smart, that is obvious, perhaps not as smart as Dad and me. Definitely not as smart as Shuri, but I'm pretty sure no one has her intelligence. She has connections too which is surprising at her age while being relatively unknown.' Peter wiggled slightly before settling down leaning against Marinette as well before closing his eyes.

Marinette waited until everyone had filed out of the class before waking Peter up. She gently shook him snorting as he looked around in confusion. His eyes finally landed on Marinette and a warm smile covered his face. She snorted again, as she packed up her stuff. 

"Maybe you should call up your driver that way we won't wait for long." Marinette said, pulling her backpack on as Peter sent out a quick message.

"Mr. Stark, before you go! I'd like to talk with you about what my student Lila said." Bustier said at the front of the classroom, flinching when Peter glared at her.

"Oh, you mean how she decided to lie about my father and me. Or maybe about how she didn't even know my name, but decided to tell everyone that I was a bullying, drunk, drug addict? Is that what you want to talk about? Or do you want to talk about how throughout her entire speech you said nothing knowing damn well that I was sitting in the back." Peter walked down the stairs, Marinette following behind him. When Bustier stepped in front of Peter stopping him from leaving Marinette grabbed his upper arm squeezing it gently. 

"Mr. Stark Lila has a condition that causes her to lie. The Principal and I decided not to inform the class because she'd never have friends if we did." Peter shook his head stepping to the side and walking around her Marinette following.

"That is no excuse Bustier. If that Alya woman posts anything that she said today. Well, lets just say it will not be pretty. Come on Marinette, as my dad says often, this person isn't worth our time." Marinette held back a laugh before nodding and walking out the door still holding his arm. She pulled out her phone with her left hand and typed out a few quick texts. Smiling gently when she got responses, she leaned her head on his shoulder before slipping her phone into her purse. Waiting until Tikki tugged it gently signaling that Marinette could safely release her phone. They stood together at the entrance to the school until a Mercedes Benz pulled up and the driver got out opening the door for them. Peter helped Marinette in before climbing in himself, he laughed grinning at her shocked face. She glared slightly before turning her attention back on to the tablets built into the driver and passenger seats.

"Did you buy them like this?" She asked curiously, slipping her backpack off and putting it down by her feet, buckling up afterwards. Peter shook his head, grin not leaving his face as he buckled up.

"Nope, Dad and I tore it apart and built it together. It's fun bonding time ya know." Marinette smiled sadly glancing out the window looking at the now closed bakery. Her thoughts drifted to before everything happened, when her parents were happy and in love, and still wanted her. Her gaze left the building as the driver pulled into traffic.

"I used to bake with my parents all the time. We ran a bakery, Maman would spend time cooking with me, and Papa and I always played video games together. Every night until, we played every night." Peter's eyes widened and he reached out taking her hand and squeezing it. Marinette blinked looking down at his hand before turning hers and squeezing his hand back. They just sat silently for a while enjoying being together with the other. Neither teen knew why they were inexplicably drawn to each other. In the span of a few hours they were closer than normal, and barely knew each other. This didn't scare either of them though, it felt so natural for them to seek slight comfort with the other. To just be able to sit together and feel like nothing could go wrong. Marinette leaned against him resting her head on his shoulder closing her eyes.

"What happened to your parents?" Peter asked after a while moving to rest his head on top of hers when she tensed up. "You don't have to talk about it? I've just found that it's better to get things off your chest and out instead of letting it linger." Marinette huffed a slight smile taking over her face before disappearing.

"My parents got a divorce two months ago. They had been acting for so long that they were still in love, but had grown to hate each other. In turn that meant they started to hate me, I reminded them too much of the other. So neither of them wanted me, my mother left Paris returning to China. My father decided to go to Italy to stay with his extended family. I was left behind, my honorary Uncle took me in till I turned seventeen." Marinette used her free hand to gently wipe her tears away. She squeezed his hand taking a deep breath. "They left me with nothing but 'good luck'. I stayed with my Godmother for a while but I couldn't sleep on the couch. Then my Uncle offered to stay in Paris with me until my seventeenth birthday. After that I'm technically on my own, I have some money saved up so I could get a small apartment, not in Paris though."  Peter brushed his thumb against her knuckles thinking to himself.

"So you're only sixteen? I'm seventeen." He said attempting to change the conversation, and from the giggle Marinette let out, she knew what he was trying to do. "What do you want to do when you graduate? I mean I'm just curious is all you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Like most people like talking about it but I know some don't, but uh, I'm going to be working at SI. Oh and I am already taking college classes online from MIT!" Peter rambled on causing Marinette to laugh and his driver to cough in an attempt to hide his own chuckles.

"I want to go into fashion. I've always been in love with it, and want to have it in my future." Marinette smiled, patting his arm to calm him down. "I've even won a few design competitions, although thanks to Gabriel being unmasked as a supervillain my most distinguished one is gonna be crossed off." Peter raised an eyebrow before connecting the dots with Hawkmoth and the Agreste companies fall. 

"I have to ask this after sitting through that god awful class. Do you even like that school?" Marinette groaned, shaking her head slightly. "Because I did notice you zone out in the class." Marinette snorted before nodding.

"See I finished everything online and my plan was to graduate early. However Bustier and Damocles wouldn't allow it, they told me I need my parents signature not my temporary guardian's. So I am stuck there until the end of the year. Especially since I don't have parents, so no one can sign. Child Services won't let my uncle adopt me, apparently he isn't a good role model. Which is kind of funny since he took me in when my parents just abandoned me." She was silent for a while thinking about her situation and Peter did not like silence on the girl. 

"Is that how you know M.D. through design competitions?" Peter asked, causing Marinette to laugh softly, wondering how to tell him that she was M.D. "I mean I just noticed that your entire outfit, plus backpack and purse are both M.D. and obviously exclusives." Marinette shook her head as they pulled up outside the luxury hotel, both unbuckling and getting out when the driver opened the door. Marinette adjusted her back back walking up the steps.

"No actually, I've known M.D. my entire life. Now what's your hotel room? Jagged needs to know to meet us there, come on Parker don't leave me hanging." Peter glared playfully at Marinette before telling her their room number. She texted it to Jagged, nodding to the receptionist that greeted her, welcoming her back. "Mister Franco is always so nice, he has worked here for years now. To be honest I'm pretty sure he never takes a day off, he really loves his job." Peter nodded smiling at Franco, before stepping into the elevator with Marinette pressing the button to his floor. "Have you alerted the others to the video chat?" She asked looking up from her phone, meeting Peter's amused eyes. He nodded watching as she slipped her phone into her purse, he noted her pause before letting it drop completely. At first he chalked it up to her making sure the phone was actually in the purse, but then he remembered watching it move earlier in the afternoon. 'Is she keeping a pet in her purse?' He pondered silently as they stepped off the elevator onto his floor. He pulled out his card and opened the door, to be greeted with the amusing sight of his father and Jagged opposite ends of the couch. Tony had his feet pulled up and he stared down at the crocodile lazing on the floor in front of Jagged.

"Ah, Petey, Peter, my son, my first born, my rock when your mothers not around, please-please, explain why we are having a video conference with Bruce Wayne, our favorite reporters Lois and Clark, a Justice League representative, Carol as an Avengers representative, and Jagged Stone and his 'rock 'n roll' crocodile pet?" Tony said, not looking away from Fang for a second. Marinette snorted and walked in further dropping her bag on the floor by the couch, then kneeling down and starting to scratch Fang in his favorite places. Making him roll onto his back, tail waving like an excited puppy. Tony blinked, watching Marinette turn Fang into a cuddly puppy in seconds before turning to look at Peter with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, tell me what this is about." Peter rolled his eyes, slipping off his jacket and kicking his shoes off walking over to stand behind Marinette. Looking down at the crocodile in puzzlement.

"I can do you one better. Karen please play the audio from the class today, starting when Miss Rossi entered the classroom. Oh and Friday can you drag up as much dirt on Lila Rossi as possible." Both AI gave confirmation causing Peter to smile as he stepped around Marinette and Fang sitting down on the couch. He introduced himself to Jagged briefly before turning back to Marinette. "Think you can type up every little lie, while I get incontact with my lawyers." Marinette nodded, the gleam back in her eyes as she pulled her laptop out of her backpack. She waited till Fang rolled back onto his stomach before leaning against him and placing her laptop on her bent legs. The next couple minutes were filled with Tony raging over what the girl said. While Peter clung to his back in an attempt to stop him from suiting up and hunting the girl down. Jagged watched the scene amused sipping on a juice box he pulled from Marinette's bag. Fang was also greatly amused and wanted to join in with the two newcomers to his family but he knew his girl was busy, so moving wasn't an option for him. Marinette ignored them the entire time up until she finished. Then she starred, amused at Tony laying on his side, a grumpy pout on his face as Peter was still wrapped around him. 

"Calm now?" She asked, her lips quirking up into a smirk as he leveled a grumpy glare at her. "Because I told Clara to call at five and it's almost time." Tony continued to be grumpy for a while before letting out a loud sigh and nodding.

"Let's get this show on the road, pinky." Marinette sent him a dry look raising an eyebrow before looking at Peter who grinned.

"That's his way of saying he likes you!" Marinette snorted before pulling out her phone before glancing back at Jagged, her eyes narrowing.

"Jagged, is that my juice box?" She asked already knowing that he was drinking the juice box from her backpack. Jagged glanced down at the juice in his hand before grinning at her.

"Well you see, I was thirsty and our hosts were obviously having a moment, and I'll buy you two more twelve packs of the juice boxes." Marinette nodded before turning her gaze off him, giving Tony her signature sunshine smile.

"Hello Mr. Stark, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I am unfortunately part of Lila Rossi's class, though at this point I'm the only one that seems to see through lies." She held her laptop out to Peter, who took it with a smile plopping down on the couch. He scrolled through the long list, Marinette had composed. "I'll be the one helping compile all the lies, you may want to make sure everything on the Ladyblog is documented. It used to be a reliable source about Paris's heros, but the reporter, um, correction tabloid writer now fell for Lila's lies." Tony nodded before telling Friday to look into the Ladyblog. A few minutes later Marinette received Clara's call, the two talked together in French until Tony had video connection with Bruce, Lois, Clark, Wonder Woman, and Carol. Everyone wondered what was going on until Peter sent them all the list of lies. Marinette placed Clara on speaker before speaking up to everyone. "A few years ago when I was still in college-ah, middle school for you American's. A girl named Lila Rossi transferred to my school, she spread lies throughout the class about famous people. I was able to see through her lies because she decided to lie about Jagged Stone. " She gestured to Jagged who waved at everyone from his spot. "She claimed that she saved his cat from getting hit by a plane and developed tinnitus from it. She also stated that Jagged Stone wrote a song about her, at the time she was thirteen. Then she claimed to be best friends with Parisian superhero, Ladybug. The hero in question shot those claims down very fast, however the girl twisted it telling everyone Ladybug was only saying that to protect her. The creator of Bugout did not believe the girl, and that is why Ladybug heavily backs her. The list Parker here sent you is every lie she has told about you, Clara I texted you the list." Peter gave Marinette a playful dirty look as Clara took over the conversation.

"Oh my, all these lies I can't believe my eyes!" Everyone looked confused at Clara's rhyming.  "I can't believe her claims, all the people she is trying to deceive, and all the names." Clara gasped on her side causing many to wish they could see here. "Oh dear! She could have ruined your careers!" Marinette smiled softly when Clara said that. "She even mentioned your alternate ID, and this simply can't go unmentioned." Everyone looked at Marinette in slight confusion causing Marinette to give them an awkward smile.

"I'm sure all of you can see that she has mentioned that she knows M.D. the new famous designer who has kept out of the public eye. Well you all are lucky enough to meet M.D. before everyone else. It's a pleasure to meet you all, I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng and I run M.D. Clothing." Everyone stared at her in shock for a bit before the Stark lawyers joined the video chat. At the time they began making plans to take Lila down, and Marinette was at the center of the plans. "Tony and Peter leave in five days. His lawyers will be delivering her chargers, I want this to happen all at once." Everyone noted the determined glean in Marinette's eye, it reminded Tony of Pepper and he found himself about what his wife would think of this young woman. "If everyone has at least one of their lawyers to deliver them at the same time it will destroy her. That is why I suggest we do this during the school day, right before we are set to get out." Everyone agreed with doing it in front of the entire class. It was decided that Tony's lawyers wouldn't enter first, then Bruce's,  followed by the Justice League's and the Avenger's, Jagged and Clara's would enter soon after, and then Marinette's lawyer would hand Lila her final lawsuit. After the video chats Marinette gave Peter a big hug smiling brightly as Jagged picked up her backpack and Fang's leash. "Thank you for all the help Peter!" She let go before shaking Tony's hand, her smile not slipping. "As promised, get me yours and Mrs. Stark's measurements and I will make you a M.D. suit and dress combo. I think royal blue with ivory accents will suit you both. Peter has my number, so that you can get me the information." She walked to the door Jagged and Fang following her. "Goodnight you two!" Marinette said as they stepped outside. Peter and Tony stood at the door wishing them goodnight before closing it. Tony immediately turned to Peter once it was closed, wanting an explanation for everything. Peter sat down explaining what all had happened after he left the meeting. Tony listened intently while also thinking to himself about Marinette.

"So Max Kanté is rejected for the Internship program, damn. At least we caught this girl before more lies could be spread. I can't believe she dared to claim that I would give up on my own son." Peter nodded before picking the remote on and turning on Star Wars, he placed his legs across Tony’s lap and leaned again his side for comfort.

“Ya, she is pretty stupid. Did she think no one would ever hear her lives now she has multiple people coming down on her in less than 5 days.”

“Also that Marinette girl, think I can adopt her? Like joint custody? Pep would love her, seriously together they could rule the world.”

“Well with a little money you might be able to. Her parents gave up custody of her and the government refused to let Jagged adopt her.”

Tony looked at Peter silent for a moment before nodding to himself. 

“Friday-“

“Already drawing up adoption papers Boss. Pepper has been informed and she had this to say, ‘I give up, let him adopt the girl, I’ll have her registered for online schooling.’ Shall I bribe the person that receives the papers.”

“Yes but remember, I never said yes.”

That caused Peter to burst into laughter as he pulled out his phone, sending a text to his group chat.

Peter-man- New sister on the way guys. You’re gonna love her, dad just has to bride Child services.

Princess Memes a lot- Another science genius??

Peter-man- Nope, ever heard of M.D. Clothing?

Guy in the Chair- You’re joking.

MJ- Why am I not surprised by this.

Princess Memes a lot- You met M.D. and your Father is adopting her.

Princess Memes a lot- That’s it I’m taking a vacation to Paris, I’ll be there by tomorrow Peter. Ayo will be with me, and you will introduce the two of us to your new sister.

Peter-man- Understood Princess, although don’t mention the adoption to her just yet. I think I’m going to ease her into the family dynamic with us. 

Princess Memes a lot- Very well Ayo and I will not mention a thing. I will make sure we are both dressed discreetly as well. That way we don’t have to explain why the Princess of Wakanda is in Paris.

Peter chuckled resting his head on Tony’s shoulder curling into his dad's side. Tony smiled, his eyes never wavering from the tv screen as he rubbed his son’s leg gently.

Marinette let out a content sigh as she dried her hair with a towel. She sat on a plush chair in front of a grand dollhouse that was opened so all the rooms could be seen. The Kwami say inside all talking happily, making sure that Duusu and Nooroo were comfortable. Marinette smiled down at them wrapping his hair in her towel before leaning back and looking out the window. Tikki and Plagg flew up to her causing the young woman to laugh softly. She held her hand out allowing them to sit down. “In a few days Lila will be drowning in lawsuits. I really can’t find it in myself to feel bad for her.” Plagg snorted leaning back against her fingers, while Tikki gave him a disapproving look.

“Honestly kid, all you had to do was say the word and I would’ve taken care of the brat.”

“Plagg!” Tikki said, glaring at him, causing the other Kwami to laugh softly with Marinette.

“What?! I didn’t mean kill her! I meant that I’d cut her hair into something that doesn’t look awful! Always jumping to conclusions aren’t you Sugarcube.” Tikki swatted the back of his head causing the cat goddess to fly away laughing hysterically.

“Oh leave him be Tikki. He wouldn’t dare do anything in fear of repercussions from you.” Marinette said softly, bringing Tikki closer to her face. “A few days left Tikki, I am so excited.” Tikki smiled, rubbing her thumb gently as she looked up at her chosen human, her creation soul. Tikki felt her power rise a few days ago and now she knew why. Instead of having just one and a half creation souls around her, she had three. Marinette will always be the soul that resonates with her the most but Peter is a pure creation soul. Then Jagged and Tony combined made the third, it was their pasts that caused half their souls to be that of destruction. Yet it was the fact that they still held half a creation soul that got her, yes they had a reason to be bad, yet they wouldn’t allow it. She was happy that they still held that half tightly, the only for once a human’s, that was not meant to hold Plagg, soul becomes full destruction they become the worst of the worse. Which is why Tikki was happy Lila was going down, her soul was so close to destruction it sickened Tikki. She knew that once that little bit of creation left, there would only be a monster, because she was definitely not suited to be a cat. Tikki looked over at her other half with a gentle smile knowing that they’d find Plagg’s true destruction soul soon as well.

“Princess, why are we going to Paris?” Ayo asked as she followed Shuri onto the jet. The servants following with their bags, placing them onto the plane.

“Stark is adopting a young woman.” Shuri said trying on her phone. She looked up meeting Ayo’s eyes with a slight smirk. “The girl is the M.D. herself, I simply must meet her. According to Peter they only just met her and Tony is already adopting her. Peter also seems to have formed a connection with the woman. So I must meet her, and out of all the Dora Milaje you are able to be perfectly discrete. Anyone seeing us will believe you are simply my older sister, which is what I need. Miss Marinette does not know about the adoption yet and Peter wishes to edge her in. So I will simply be seen as Peter’s friend that decided to visit, and this will keep us out of the news.” Ayo nodded moving to sit down and relax knowing that they had an hour before reaching Paris.

“Very well, I shall enjoy meeting the new Stark child.” She said, causing Shuri to grin at her with a twinkle in her eyes. “I will not enjoy keeping you and Peter out of trouble however.” She finished teasingly causing Shuri to burst into laughter, Ayo only let a slight grin cover her face.

“Oh no oh no oh no.” Marinette muttered as she ran around her room getting ready. “I can’t believe I forgot this! Oh Miss Mendeleiev is going to be so upset! She went out of her way to have me come to her class’s party instead and I’m going to be late! Tikki, Plagg! Grab the pastries please!” The two Kwami lifted one try floating it over to the table by the door before taking the other over as well.

“My bug you must calm down. You have ten minutes before the party starts, yes, but Mendeleiev said to show up at any time.” Tikki flew up with Pollen the two gently fixing the French braid Marinette had begun putting her hair into. “There is no set time you need to be there so you are fine.” A knock on the door startled the human and Kwami slightly, Marinette ushered them into hiding spots before answering the door.

“Hello? Oh Peter! Do you need something?” Peter smiled brightly fidgeting with his sunglasses, he held up two bags filled with snacks.

“I was hoping we could hang out? Dad is in a really boring meeting and if I go it’ll suck my soul out.” He said dramatics causing Marinette to laugh.

“Normally I’d love to, but I have a class party today.” She gestured to the two large trays of pastries.

“Oh, that’s fine! I’ll just help you carry the trays then go find something to do.” Peter said, picking up one of the plates. “And before you say anything, shut up, I want to help.” Marinette glared at him before picking up her purse and folding her jacket over her arm. She picked up the other tray before checking her purse making sure Tikki and Plagg were in it. “Soooo,” Peter said, dragging out the word as he waited for Marinette to lock the door. “Where am I escorting you today fair Goddess?” Peter teased causing Marinette to quirk an eyebrow as they walked toward the elevator.

“Goddess? That's a new one. Care to explain?” She asked, stepping into the elevator pressing the button for the lobby. She reached over pulling his hood up gently with one hand before grabbing his sunglasses and slipping them onto his face. “There you go Mr.Famous.” She teased softly before fixing the strap of her purse. Peter smiled shifting the bag in his hand.

“Well my first thought was princess, but it just doesn’t suit you. Queen had popped in too but that didn’t feel right either. Trust me I know princesses and Queens, and they’d definitely love you but you have an air of difference compared to them. Something that makes you stand out something kind of magical-as silly as it sounds.” Marinette shifted slightly at the mention of magical glancing down at the purse that contained the most powerful beings in existence. Something that did not go unnoticed by Peter. “So when I settled on Goddess it just felt right, of course I tried other names but none compared to Goddess. So that is your new Stark patented nickname! Property of Stark & Co., nobody else can use it without express consent from Stark CEO, Head of R&D, and CEO in training!” Marinette snorted softly stepping out of the elevator Peter followed behind her as she began to giggle.

“Alright I suppose I shall let it slip this time! Besides it is definitely better than Princess, I hate that stupid nickname.” She turned to look at him, eyes twinkling slightly. “Now make sure to stay close, don’t want to have to save you from a car accident again.” Peter laughed rolling his eyes before calling out that it only happened once.  Causing Marinette to laugh again as they started the walk to Marinette’s school.

“Oh Marinette! You’re here!!” Aurore  called out as she, Mireille, and Jean hurried to meet both her and Peter as they entered the school courtyard. “And you brought a friend!” She said hugging Marinette once Jean took the tray from her. Marinette chuckled nervously hugging the girl back before hugging Mireille as well. “Pleasure to meet you I’m Aurore, that is Mireille, the man that took Marinette’s tray is Jean. Oh and of course you’ll meet the rest of our little family in a bit!” Peter smiled at the girl pushing his sunglasses up.

“I’m Peter, it’s nice to meet you. I am not staying though I was only helping Marinette carry the trays.” He said as Claude bounced over taking the tray from him and passing it off to his sister Allegra. He grabbed Peter’s shoulder directing him towards the rest of their class, smiling goofily. Marinette rolled her eyes smiling as Allan wrapped an arm around her shoulder following behind the two. He was telling her about his most recent audition calmly but excitement was clear in his voice.

“Nonsense! My new friend!!” Claude said smiling brightly leading him to the snack table. “If you’re a friend of Marinette’s then you are more than welcome to our party! I’m Claude Renou, the blonde that took the tray is my sister Allegra Dimont! You already saw Jean, Aurore, and Mireille. Kagami is over there teaching Ondine how to hold a saber, Kagami is wearing the red and black Cheongsam,” He paused turning to Marinette with a hopeful look. “Did I say it correctly?” He beamed when Marinette nodded before turning back to Peter. “And Ondine is the young woman who is completely out of her element on land!” He teased causing Ondine to glare at him playfully before waving politely to Peter. Over there controlling the music is Marc-pretty sure his mom, like runs France’s known yet unknown mafia but he won’t tell us.” Marc shot them a playful look before turning to and beginning to eat Marinette’s cookies. “And behind us is Allan Duval! Better known as Coté Spanghero, a rising actor! Then there is our teacher the wonderful and sometimes cruel Ms. Mendeleiev.” Anne-Claire Mendeleiev turned and stared down Claude who simply grinned at her. She sighed, shaking her head before looking over at Peter.

“Ignore him, of course you are more than welcome to join us. This is our little graduation party, these kids have been my students since middle school, except for Marinette unfortunately. Though I tried to get her multiple times.” She gave him a polite smile before patting his shoulder. “Oh and please call me Anne-Claire, all my students do when they remember they are almost out of school.” Marinette pulled away from Allan with a soft smile before linking arms with Peter. Peter grinned at her leaning closer to her.

“Looks like you don’t need to find something to do.” She said laughing with him. “Now come on, Jean knows some pretty cool magic tricks!” She pulled him over and they stood watching Jean perform different card tricks. They stood together, arms still locked while Peter watched Jean and Marinette talked with Allegra both women laughing together. Peter’s attention was stolen a few minutes later by his phone going off.

Princess Memes a lot- Stark where are you and your new sister?

Princess Memes a lot-Hello? Spiderboy?

Princess Memes a lot- Very well I have already found your location, Ayo and ai are on our way.

“Ah? Will Anne-Claire be upset if my friend and her older sister crash this party?” Anne-Claire raised an eyebrow as she took a sip from her cup looking over. 

“Depends Mister Stark, are the delinquents?” Peter was surprised that she knew him and even more surprised when he noticed none of her students were surprised.

“Ah, no not at all. Since you know who I am I’ll be honest. One is royalty and the other her bodyguard acting as sister.” Anne-Claire looked slightly excited at the prospect score nodding. 

“As long as they don’t cause trouble they’re welcome here.” Peter nodded smiling brightly before responding to Shuri that they were more than welcome to join. 

“My friend will be here soon, they may be a little stand off-ish at first.” Claude laughed, shaking his head, giving Kagami a teasing smile causing the woman to raise her eyebrow, faking an unimpressed look.

“Worry not Peter! We managed to break through Kagami’s Ice Queen persona!” Allan smirked rolling his eyes before handing his drink to Allegra. He stood behind Claude mining all of his actions. This caused them all to burst into laughter while Claude simply grinned looking at them. “Well besides that! Peter I have to ask, are you following in your Dad’s footsteps as head of R&D, or will you be taking up CEO. Oh perhaps I should start with my plans. I want to work in Public Relations, I actually have an internship with Wayne Enterprises. Cool right? Everyone here is going on to amazing things actually!” Peter smiled looking at them.”Why don’t we tell him? I’m sure Marinette has already told you her plans. We might as well tell him the rest!” Allegra shook her head smiling softly.

“I’ll tell him, obviously Allan is continuing his acting career, I am going to Harvard to study Law. Kagami is taking over her family business, Ondine is already an Olympic swimmer. Aurore and Mireille are continuing their weather girl careers, Marc is on his way to becoming a famous author and Jean is continuing his figure skating career.” Peter nodded looking at all of them., rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well I am actually already working at Stark Industries, I run the Internship program. Paid and Unpaid, I decide if you are given a chance in our company. I am however in training for both CEO and head of R&D, my parents told me that it is my choice. Although neither plan to retire for quite some time!” The class plus two continued to talk happily never noticing the girl glaring at them from Ms. Bustier’s classroom. Lila knew something was up, ever since she had laid eyes on the man sitting next to Marinette. It was something about him, something that made him stand out. She looked over at her sheep all of who were too engrossed with final plans for the last class trip. These were her sheep, the people that fell in line just to stop her crocodile tears. She sat high and powerful atop her kingdom and Marinette was in her rightful place, alone and ostracized. Something told her though, that the man out there with Mendeleiev’s class was going to ruin her. She sniffed looking away again giving her sheep a fake smile. She’d simply have to destroy him first.

“This is the place.” Shuri said looking up from her phone as Ayo and her walked through the school. “Peter said the teacher they were with is fine with us being here. Apparently they are having a party. Which sounds like a lot of fun!” They finally walked into the courtyard spotting Peter and the class before walking over when Peter waved excitedly. He introduced them to the class, smiling brightly when Marinette and Shuri hit it off right away.

Over the next couple days Marinette grew closer with Peter, Tony and Shuri. Marinette showed the three around Paris with the help of her friends in Mendeleviev’s class. Tony had even promised them visits to Stark tower the summer after their graduation. Of course it wasn’t known to Marinette that she’d soon be living there. In fact they still had to break it to her that Tony’s adoption request went through. It finally came out during a move night that Tony and Peter were holding with Marinette, Shuri, Ayo, her friends, and Jagged.

“Ya know, I’m going to miss you guys.” She said softly leaning against Peter’s side holding his right hand and carefully painting his nails a navy blue. Peter tensed slightly, sharing a look with Tony. Marinette noticed immediately when Peter tensed looking up at him sharply. “What?” She asked, turning to look at the father and son duo. Peter looked at Tony knowing that his father had to tell her.

“Ah, well you see Pinky, I decided that I didn’t want to lose you. So you’re mine now.” He said not looking her in the face, attempting to hide his nervousness.

“I’m yours now?”

“Yes. Our if you want to be specific and bring Pep into this considering she’s my wife, but mine either way.”

“You do know I’m not something to be owned, correct?”

“Well yes, but you’re still mine. End of story. You’re my daughter now, which means you’re Peter’s sister.”

“You know, I should be upset about this but  honestly I really didn’t want you guys to leave. I’ve grown attached and I think Uncle has too.”

Peter smiled brightly wrapping his arms around Marinette, careful not to mess up his nails.

“We just have one last thing to do.”

“Oh?”

“Change your last name to Stark.”

Tony said, smirking as he ruffled his now daughter’s hair. It wasn’t until after the movie finished that they announced the news to the rest of their group, and the celebration was anything but quiet. The night ended with a big sleepover in the Stark’s current living room and all went to bed knowing that tomorrow was the day they took Lila off her fake throne.

Lila smirked looking at herself in the mirror taking in her makeup. Nasty fake bruises covered her face and lower neck. She looked down at her clothes to make sure they were properly ripped. She nodded before heading out, stopping before she made it to the school before starting to cry. She rushed to the school bursting into Ms. Bustier’s class immediately having attention on her. She hid a smirk before spouting her sob story. Not knowing that Peter and his father were about to walk through that door with multiple lawyers Shuri and Ayo also tagging along. The moment Peter stepped through the door Kim charged at him fire in his eyes. Ayo was quick to move, taking Kim down flawlessly in seconds. “What do you think you’re doing! Get off my student!” Ms. Bustier said standing quickly but not moving towards Ayo and Kim.

“Shut it you banshee.”Ayo growled out standing up but keeping her foot in the middle of Kim’s back. “I shall act as guard for you all.” She said after Shuri gave her a subtle nod of permission. Tony and Peter’s lawyer Ryan was the first to step forward. 

“Thank you warrior.” He said nodding in respect to Ayo before turning to the class. “I am Ryan Wilson and I am Tony and PETER Stark’s lawyer. I am looking for one Lila Rossi.” Lila sat stock still not wanting to draw any attention to her. That failed when Ayla was quick to point her out.

“She is right here! You’re here to help her after that monster attacked her earlier aren’t you? Wow! Stark works fast! Oh can I record this for my blog?” Ryan galred at both girls before walking over and placing papers on the table.

“No, you may not! Lila Rossi you’ve been served! The Stark family is suing you for slander and defamation of character as well as claiming to others that you work with them. I suggest you find a lawyer and soon.” He turned away from them and walked to Bustier’s desk placing papers on her desk. “This is for allowing and even helping your student to lie.” He stepped back ignoring the class crying out in outrage. Lila just sat staring down at the paper in horror. The horror mounting as more and more papers were added to the pile until Marinette’s delicate and manicured hand placed her own papers down. She looked up at Marinette’s blank face, tears streaming down her face as anger slowly built.

“Lila I have let you get away with a lot, all because I was supposed to be the ‘better person’. Well I am done with that flawed idea, it’s time you learned that lies have consequences.” She turned heading back over to Peter smiling brightly until she saw Tony and Peter’s eyes widened as they moved forward. LIla let out a blood curdling scream launching herself at Marinette. Marinette turned quickly but Ayo was faster than both girls and slammed Lila into the ground. She calmly turned to look at Ryan not releasing her grip from Lila. “It may be smart to call for the police.” Officer Raincomprix walked in soon after sending the teacher a disappointed look as he pulled out handcuffs.

“We are already here. Lila Rossi evidence has been discovered proving that you willingly worked with Gabriel Agreste, also known as Hawkmoth. Anything you say can and will be held against you.” He cuffed her ignoring her screams and holding the young women still as she thrashed trying to get to Marinette. Tony wrapped an arm around her shoulder as Peter linked their arms together causing Marinette to smile.

“Ready to head home, daughter of mine?” Tony said with a smirk as Marinette leaned her head against his arm. 

“Ya know, I can’t wait to see my new home. Lets go.”

I wondered when he was finally going to be bored.

Sir, be careful! 

[princessofcurses]

[1] Take it.

Part 2 Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader Written from the perspective of Sukuna My first post! I wonder if anyone will read it? It's kind of long. The sexy stuff starts happening about halfway through. This is just one chapter so some things might not make sense. Let me know if you liked it and want more! Preface: A woman sorcerer challenged Sukuna. Her technique was able to nullify his, ending in a draw between the two. Frustrated at his inability to kill her, he decides to “take her” in “another way”. The cocky brat rejects him easily but he’s determined to win her over little by little when she visits him the next day.

She left quickly after our battle. I wanted to chase after her. She hadn’t even told me her name but the way she mocked me riled my soul up. A fire began to burn in my core and soon, I felt it in all of my blood. I was almost unsure if I wanted to kill her or fuck her. I hadn’t met a Jujutsu sorcerer as strong as her before, strong enough to go toe-to-toe with me. And strong enough to resist me. I couldn’t kill her so right now, I wanted nothing more than to fuck her. I can win in other ways. I wanted to earn her affection and make her mine. With her by my side, nothing would be able to stop me.

The next day, she came back to me. I was delighted.

“You thought about it, didn’t you? Did you rethink your stance?”

She replied to me with disgust.

“I’m here to waste your time and keep you from killing.”

I scoffed.

How can I win her over? After my ‘sex with hundreds of women’ comment last time, she obviously wants nothing to do with me. I can’t force her into submission because she neutralizes my techniques and she can use it against me. Should I buy her affection? Maybe gifts would do.

She noticed I was in thought and she used the pause to take a seat at the base of the mountain of skulls. She pulled out a book and began to read. She was bored with me again. She is so fucking infuriating. I wanted so badly to kill her but I couldn’t. So I thought I wanted so badly to ruin her and make her feel so good she submits to me. But she pretended I didn’t exist.

I jumped down from my throne to be closer to her.

“What’s your name?”

Without looking up from her book, she said just her first name.

“Akahime.”

“Oh? So you’re one of the heavenly twins. The red princess.”

“Mhm.”

Her one word replies irritated me. Women have died just getting too close to me and now there was one who not only rejected me but could stop me too. My usual approach wasn’t working so I tried being more direct.

“I want to talk to you.”

She immediately responded.

“I told you I’m not interested.”

“Please.”

She closed her book with both hands and put it down. I felt pitiful almost begging her just to speak with her.

“You’re annoying.”

I winced at her comment.

“What if we talked over dinner?”

“We wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without you being noticed. Plus, you might just try to kill everyone.”

“Then I’ll have one of my servants bring us something. You didn’t bring food, right? You’ll get hungry eventually.”

She put her index finger on her chin and looked up. She had a cute thinking face. If I could hear her thoughts, she probably cursed in her head that she forgot to bring something to eat.

“Okay, fine. I want an omakase from the most expensive sushi restaurant in Japan. I also want a bottle of sake. It better be warm too.”

This little brat. She’s a foot shorter than me but she treats me as if I’m the small one. I sighed in exasperation and I snapped my fingers for a servant to quickly appear. Akahime wondered where they came from.

“You heard her. Fetch. Quickly.”

They scurried out of the lair. I went to take a seat beside her. She looked uncomfortable and moved farther from me once I sat down. I sighed.

“I won’t bite. I just want to talk.”

She turned to me and smiled.

“Let’s talk over dinner!”

Ugh. She’s really cute, even when she’s nicely rejecting me. I was losing my composure. I was so frustrated that she wasn’t giving a single thing. I wanted to get on top of her and show her just why women come to me. But she might just leave altogether.

“Okay, looking forward to it then.”

I made my way back to my throne. I leaned my elbow against the armrest and held my head up with my hand. I wondered, what could I say to make her trust me? It felt like an eternity had passed once the food arrived. The servant laid all of the sushi out. Akahime and I sat on the floor. I poured her some sake and she took the small cup with a smile.

“Thank you, Sukuna!”

She could look so sweet. I was taken aback from it, considering how cocky she had been the entire time. She must really love this restaurant.

“Itadakimasu!”

We clapped our hands and she immediately went for a piece of salmon.

“I love this place! Oh, you ordered the omakase too? Wow, so you have money?”

Her personality completely changed.

“I’ve eaten at this place a couple of times. I like their omakase too. And yes, I have money.”

Maybe gifts were the way to go. I quickly wrote down some items for my servant to get.

She picked up a piece of toro and presented it to me with her other hand.

“This is my favorite.”

She plopped it into her mouth and she closed her eyes and smiled.

“Mmm!”

The way to her heart is through her stomach, I guess. We continued our dinner and I kept refilling her cup. She drank happily, finishing it quickly each time. Blush started to form across her cheeks and nose. We had just finished eating too.

She sighed.

“Ah. I feel like I ate too much.”

Her words slurred a bit and she put her head down on the table.

“I’m going to fall asleep right here.”

I helped her keep her head up.

“No, don’t do that. I got you something.”

My servant entered and set down a futon for her.

“I got you a futon to sleep on. It’s stuffed with goose feathers.”

She looked at me and then the futon with amazement.

“Wow! I have to lay on it right now!”

She finished the rest of the sake in the bottle and crawled over to the futon. I had the perfect view of her ass and I could see the outline of her panties. A chill went through me.

She laid out on the futon and cuddled the pillow, which was stuffed with goose feathers as well.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s really comfortable.”

Her smile was so charming and the way she looked up at me with sparkles in her eyes made me want to have her right at this moment.

“I got you something else.”

My servant handed her a white and flowy off-the-shoulder nightgown. She sat up and took it from the servant, who left quickly.

“I’m going to wear it now. Close your eyes.”

I covered my eyes but couldn’t help but peep through the cracks. She had stripped down to her panties and I could see her perky breasts and perfect ass. She clumsily slipped on the dress.

“Okay. I’m done changing.”

I uncovered my eyes and saw her unobstructed in the dress. She looked so dainty and was being so sweet. Was this the same girl I fought with? The same girl that I lost to? I examined her, thinking that she looked so innocent. I hungered for her. The off-the-shoulder part made her look even more enticing. I have good taste.

“It looks good on you.”

“Did you pick this out? I like it.”

“I did.”

We made eye contact for a few seconds and then she abruptly turned her back to me. She sat back down on the futon, swaying a bit from side to side. I thought for a second. Could this be my chance to close in? I didn’t want to respond. I might anger her and she’d tell me to leave her alone. I took a seat close to her instead.

“Did you enjoy the dinner?”

She was all smiles, not a hint of maliciousness or cockiness she had shown me before. My heart ached a little because of it.

“It was delicious and the sake is great! I feel good right now. Thank you, Sukuna.”

She said my name again and a chill ran down my spine. I wanted to make some contact with her. Just my index finger to her face or putting my hand over hers. I fucking hated this. I was doing so much to make her comfortable just so she wouldn’t push me away. Never in my life have I ever had to work for a woman’s affection. It pissed me off to no end. Why couldn’t I just have her already? The dress on her was making me lose my shit. The soft outline of her breasts in it. I didn’t want to take my eyes off of her. I just wanted to devour her.

She gave me a look of disapproval and then put her hands in my face to obstruct my view.

“Stop staring at me like that! I’m not a meal.”

Her hands were so small. I wanted to hold them in mine but instead, I grabbed her wrist. She had a surprised look which slowly sank to annoyance.

“Did you want something?”

Since she didn’t try to break free from my grasp, I kept holding her wrist up. I thought of the right words to say. What could I even say?

“I want you.”

She gently took back her wrist.

“I can’t help you.”

I brushed the hair in her face behind her ear.

“Why?”

A look of innocence took over her facial expression and the blush from the alcohol reddened even more from the blush of her reservations.

“I'm no stranger to foreplay but I want my first time to be with someone who’s also never fucked before.”

The way the crude word escaped her lips while she looked like an angel turned something on in me. I started to get erect and I wanted to let myself lose control. I don’t care what she does to me. I just want to touch her once.

“I have a lot of experience. I’ll figure out how to please you quickly.”

Her look had a hint of sadness.

“I won’t compromise on this.”

God damn it. Why did I have to be such a whore? I can’t even remember anyone I’ve had sex with.

“Can I just touch you then?”

I braced myself for rejection. Her head tilted to the side. I wonder if she was actually thinking about it.

“Sure.”

I was shocked. I wanted to jump her right then and there but I had to control myself. I was being given a little and I was more than happy to take what I could get. She let me choose what position I would touch her in. I had her lay back on my arm and I cradled her like a baby. My hand just touching her soft skin and shoulders made me want to shudder but I needed to keep my cool in front of her. I raised my hand slowly to caress her face. We made eye contact and her glossy stare at me made me want to see what other faces she could make.

Holding her face in my hand, I tilted it and leaned in to kiss her. She didn’t protest. It looked like she was going to keep her eyes open during it, so I kept mine open as well. Our lips met and it felt like the air was knocked out of me. Her lips were so soft and I tasted a bit of her. She’s so sweet. I looked up to ask her.

“How was that?”

“That was nice.”

I kissed her again, taking the pace slow. I put my hand on her back and gradually moved it down. I stopped at her ass to grab it lightly and I think I felt my cock twitch just now. As we shared another kiss, this time I lightly put my tongue in her mouth and brushed against hers. She stayed still at first but then she kissed me back, just the way her tongue moved said to me that she knows what she’s doing. My thoughts corrupted as I thought about my cock in her mouth. I imagined her tongue twirling around my head. I began to drool. Some of it spilled down her chin.

She pushed me up. I gasped a bit being separated from her lips.

“Ugh. You’re getting your drool everywhere.”

“Sorry.”

I wiped it off of my chin and hers. I then leaned back down to press my lips against hers again. I couldn’t get enough of her. She tasted so sweet. I grabbed and squeezed one of her breasts and then I pinched her nipple and rubbed it between my index finger and thumb. She gasped. She was so responsive to my touch. I moved my hand under her dress to play with her exposed nipple and she let out a soft moan. I stopped kissing her to see the look on her face. Her eyes stared back at me with a lusty gaze. I needed more of her right now.

I sat her in front of me with her legs draping over mine. My hand found its way between her thighs. It was so warm and when I rubbed her pussy through her underwear, I felt the wet fabric. I shivered. I kept thinking that I needed to be inside her right now. I swiftly slipped her panties off and lightly teased her opening, coating my fingers in her arousal. She was so wet and it was driving me fucking crazy. I moved up to her clit and began to rub it slowly. Her eyes widened and she let out a sultry moan. Fuck. That’s sexy.

I quickened the pace, making sure to rub every little spot on her clit. Her moans were more frequent and her breathing was heavier. It became hard for her to focus. I pressed the issue by leaning into her and kissing the nape of her neck. She was so warm and aroused. I loved seeing how submissive she became once I started pleasing her. She had little to no protests.

I moved my middle finger down to slowly slide inside of her. She yelped softly and it took everything I had not to take her right now. I wanted to bury my cock deep inside of her but you know she would never let you. I was a bit eager so I put my ring finger into her as well. Her walls were warm and soft and she was already so tight on my fingers. I was about to beg her for her pussy right now. Instead, I started fingering her at a leisurely pace. She clenched around my fingers and I felt her moan down my spine. I whispered in her ear.

“How does that feel?”

I faced her. She looked like she was in a daze. She was struggling to speak. I smirked. I had her exactly where I wanted her.

“What happened, brat? Nothing to say now?”

She tilted her head to look at me with scrutiny and I knew it wasn’t time for that yet.

“I didn’t mean that.”

We continued on and I used my other hand to rub her clit. Her moans were so loud and they provoked me. I pressed in different areas of her pussy looking for the perfect spot. Each time I had touched a new place, she moaned even louder. She was so sensitive and it excited me to no end.

We were face-to-face.

“Look at me.”

She tried to focus but she was too lost in the pleasure I was giving her.

I took my fingers out of her to snap them. We then made eye contact.

“Look. At. Me.”

She nodded and I put my fingers back in her. I was just about there. I pressed on that spot, what do they call it nowadays? I don’t know. Well, it’s the spot that evokes orgasms. I pinned the spot and her eyes widened.

“Sukuna…”

“What is it, princess?”

She gasped and she whined out.

“You’re so good.”

My heart stopped for a moment from her sweet comment. Fuck. What is she fucking doing to me?

I fingered the spot harder and rubbed her clit faster. The way her pussy sucked on my fingers alerted me that she was close. I had to see the look on her face once she cums. Then I would have won one of our little battles. I varied my movement to keep her engaged. I would switch from rubbing her clit up and down to rubbing it in circles. Then I would alternate from softly fingering that sensitive spot to playing with it roughly. The air was drowned in her moans and it was so satisfying to finally get her in my hands. This was the grand finale for her.

We made intense eye contact with each other. She was in ecstasy but she also looked a bit scared. She knew what was about to happen too. I wanted to establish a little bit of dominance right here.

“Say you’re sorry.”

“Huh?”

She didn’t hear me, she was too lost in the feeling.

“Say you’re sorry for being a brat.”

Her head perked up and she was a little confused. She looked a bit nervous and she seemed choked up. I touched her slowly and I gently smiled at her. She was struggling to speak.

“Or do you want me to stop?”

With a worried look on her face, she shook her head.

“Then say it.”

I gave her a cold and stern stare, and tears began to form in her eyes. I picked up the pace in my rhythm again, rubbing her clit agonizingly and fingering her pussy. I wanted to let her know this was just a preview of what I could do to her. I held her right there. I’d push her over the edge as soon as she says it.

“I’m… I’m…”

She stuttered but she was about to spit it out right now. Half a second before her orgasm hits, she bursts into tears and cried out loudly.

“I’M SORRY!”

She wails as her orgasm consumes her. I pulled her close to me and embraced her while she came. It started in her pussy and traveled in waves to the tips of her fingers and toes. She was shaking. She tried to catch her breath and I felt so fucking satisfied. I held her while she cried and whimpered. It must have been overwhelming for her.

I took a hold of her chin and tilted her head to give her a kiss on the lips.

“How was that? Has anyone ever touched you like that?”

She looked down, shy and embarrassed.

“Not like that...”

I gave her another kiss. Her eyes were still teary and I wiped the moisture from her cheeks. I wanted to take it further so badly but she looked exhausted.

“Are you going to bed now?”

I hoped she wouldn’t but she laid out on the futon.

“I think so.”

She yawned and squeezed one of the pillows tightly in her arms. I pet her head once then got up.

“Good night then.”

I walked away wondering if I should contact one of my concubines. I was dying for Aka’s touch but I wouldn’t get it and I desperately needed release. If she found out though, I might ruin the little bit she was giving me. Do I really have to jerk off tonight? Me? The King of Curses?

“Sukuna.”

She sat upright and her head was perked up, watching me leave. I turned to her in surprise.

“Yes?”

She wanted to say something but she was struggling. She looked a bit frustrated but then she shook her head.

“Good night.”

Drive a fucking stake through my heart why don’t you? I walked to my bedroom and laid out on my futon. My erection was poking through my kimono, trying to free itself. I rubbed my erection through my underwear and kimono and I thought of how soft her lips were. I let the garment drop to the floor and slipped my underwear off. I grabbed my cock and groaned, stroking it up and down. I closed my eyes and imagined her crawling over to me in her dainty dress. How she would look up at me with her hungry eyes. The face she would make as she slowly sits on my cock for the first time.

I stroked myself faster, focusing on the head for a bit and then going down the entire shaft. My breathing was heavier and I got closer and closer. I started to think that maybe I should have asked her for a hand or blow job. I knew releasing myself would leave me nowhere near being satisfied. I felt pathetic. I felt like I was stooping so low for some brat but just picturing her smiling at me steeled my resolve. In my thoughts, she asks me to cum inside of her. I think of coating her insides with it, her virgin pussy being filled up for the first time. I groan loudly and blow my load all over my thighs. I then picture her thanking me for fucking her and I breathe deeply, trying to catch my breath. My cock was still upright and unrelenting, aching for more. I knew this wouldn’t be enough. I sighed and went to clean myself up.

MIGRATING TO A NEW BLOG @baji-san