#while staring at my computer and not working yesterday
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Okay, hereâs the slightly evil, kind of sad, but mostly happy in a somewhat melancholy way (basically just a lot of feelings here) thought I had about Tech and Phee having kids, if that should ever happen:
So, operating under the assumption that Tech comes back, letâs say he and Phee do get together. And letâs say they stay together, and end up more or less space married. Letâs say they both want kids, and, after a lot of discussion about the war going on in the background and how theyâre going to raise them and keep them safe, they end up going ahead with it. They donât really settle down in any one place, but theyâve got their own ship with plenty of room, Pabu (maybe) is a good, stable home base to go back to when needed, and theyâve got a huge family for support. Those kids, if they have more than one, are loved. They have tons of uncles, somebody is always around, maybe some of the other batchers have partners (or not) and also have kids or adopt kids (heck, letâs throw Riyo in there, too, since she and Echo are a popular shipâthey end up together but they donât want kids, but they do a lot of work helping younger clones when theyâre not fighting the Empire, Hunter took in several of the clone cadets they rescued from Tantiss, Wrecker is the favorite uncle but Crosshair is the favorite babysitter, they all manage to visit Cut and Suu once in a while, and and both Omega and Lyana are delighted to have little cousins running around (I kind of headcanon that Shep and Lyana kind of adopted Phee into their family after she found Pabu, so even if weâre going with a version of Phee that was formerly a Jedi and and doesnât really know who her birth parents were, her kids are going to have family on both sides).
And this all exists just as a headcanon for something that could maybe happen after season three, depending on how season three goes, buuuut I like it. Itâs just this nice little thought of this big, chaotic family, way bigger than just our six batchers, thatâs structured a little weirdly, because clones, and everyone has their problems. but theyâre all doing their best for each other and thereâs a lot of love in it. And then I started thinking about clone aging.
And we all know clone aging sucks, but: letâs say clones really do age at twice the normal rate once they reach maturity, and letâs say Tech is chronologically, like, twelve but physically in his late twenties. A hard late twenties where he could pass for anything between thirty and fifty, but late twenties all the same. Suppose he gets the best case scenario and manages to live till heâs physically 90. Chronologically, heâll be around forty-five. So, close to best case scenario, barring dying violently or getting sick, heâs got maybe another thirty-three years in him. That might seem like a lot (and it probably is to a clone), but to put that in perspective, Iâm thirty-five. If I die in thirty-three years, Iâll only be sixty-eightâIâll have died pretty young. And Iâve already been alive almost three times as long as many of the clones have. The clones do not get that much time.
Thereâs a lot to be explored with that in regards to Phee; Iâll be honest, the potential, âThis is going to be over faster than either of us are going to be ready for,â âIt isâletâs do it anyway,â is part of why at draws me to the ship, because thereâs something a little defiant about two people going into a relationship knowing one of them was built to die faster, and choosing to live their lives how they want despite that. But thereâs also a lot to be explored in how Phee and Tech would handle that with their kids. Becauseâtheyâd tell them. Theyâd have to sit down and tell them once they got to a certain age. Tech is going to be lucky to see them hit their twenties. Itâs not like they wouldnât notice their dad and their clone uncles getting old so much faster than their mom, Omega, or their uncle Shep, or anyone else they know. Theyâd ask questions, and itâs not like Tech wouldnât be up-front. But I donât think itâd be an easy conversation for any of them to have.
#the bad batch#techphee#tech bad batch#phee genoa#things I made myself have feelings about#while staring at my computer and not working yesterday#anyway add this to the ever growing list of things I want to draw#very rambly tired thoughts do not take them too seriously
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Preview: On the Horizon
Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has.
Paring: Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader)
Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, smut, flirting and asshole!Scott A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary. Hoping to have this fic out next weekend!
You brush the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you long for the cool labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology wasn't even your field; you were here for your engineering expertise to handle the specialized equipment the team needed to gather their data.
From your vantage point on the tailgate of the truck, you observe the other storm chasers gather around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual from the brief interactions you've observed.
"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.
When you look up again Tyler's gaze falls on you. He grins and winks, pulling down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.
You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he'd been quick to dash those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team.
Clearing your throat, his eyes briefly land on you before returning to the screen in front of him. "What?" he demands.
"Oh. I was going to get something to eat. Do you want something?â
"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively. When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station.
The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air.
"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?â He questions, amused.Â
"What?"
"Your boss," he clarifies.Â
"Oh, he's um... he's not my boss. Javi is."
"No?" he questions, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."
Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.
"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.
You stare at him, unsure how to respond to his comment or the flirty tone. Before today youâd hardly spoken, he mostly interacted with Javi or Scott. Youâre saved from answering when the bell on the door jingles and someone calls your name.Â
Itâs Scott.Â
"Owens," he bites out, surprising you when he rests a hand on your shoulder and stands close enough that you feel his shirt brush your arm. Your lips part and your lashes flutter in response.Â
Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile. "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."
"What did he want?" Scott demands, move to stand in front of you after Tylerâs gone.
"Oh, nothing. Just... saying hi."
Scott's jaw tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.
When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his dark brown eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. When you turn back around your suspicions are confirmed. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you have Scottâs full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.
You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.
Part 1 is now out!
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Dead Silent. One of the batfam ask Danny why heâs more clingy than his siblings and Danny just goes âhuh??â Cuz heâs probably the LEAST clingy. Dan is Yandere Levels of clingy, Jazz is Ride or Die clingy, Dani is probably Stalker clingy, and donât even get him started on their parents.
Danny, by comparison, is the normal one and I feel like that should be appreciated so much more.
(This is SO freaking funny and you're so right omg. It got long bc I got excited again lmaooo)
"You... you think I'm... clingy?!" Danny cried in shock, looking around for a camera. Were they serious? Was this actually real?
Duke said with a shrug, "Well... I mean, I always see you around Cass. We're just asking."
"I am literally the least clingy and the most normal out of my siblings."
Jason snorted from where he stood behind Tim's chair. Everyone was listening in but only Damian and Duke had the graciousness to not pretend that they weren't. Even Cass was staring, blinking as she was held in Danny's arms for a cuddle after the patrol.
"Oh yeah? Prove it."
Danny glared at him and pointed to his shadow, which stretched out beneath him from the Batcave's lights.
"One, the only reason she doesn't follow you around everywhere is because Jazz literally has Shadow following you whenever you go out." As he said this, two eyes blinked from within Jason's shadow and then disappeared just as quickly. "Two, she had all of your medical information on a file in her phone! And just information on you, period! Three, just yesterday, she blew up two ships and took down a trafficking ring by herself because she got reports that they put a hit on you! And don't even talk about how normal she is compared to me, because she definitely isn't! You just think she's a normal amount of clingy because the both of you have your brains rotted from romance novels!"
Jason made a face. It was one of great affront, grudging acceptance, and a wistful adoration. Danny couldn't even feel smug for proving him right because the look on his face was just disgusting.
Cass giggled from within his arms.
Dick opened his mouth and Danny pointed at him aggressively, clutching at Cass as he said, "You can't speak either! Dan is literally the most clingy out of all of us! You know what Jazz said?! He literally has abandonment issues and codependency!! Y'know what his name was before we came here?! It's "World Destroyer"! The only reason he hasn't done anything is because he really likes you and wants to spend most of his time watching you and keeping you safe instead of going around and causing destruction!"
Dick blinked. "But he alsoâ"
"Wrong! He uses clones to do stuff while he keeps watch over you, and you're the only reason he has a moral code at all."
Dick made a considering face and then he smiled. "Aww, that's kinda cute. I didn't know he was so clingy."
Danny muttered to Cass, "Are you seeing this bullshit?"
She giggled again and patted at his arms that were wrapped around her neck.
Duke nodded, amusement on his face. "I see your point. But what about Dani? You're definitely clingier than her."
Danny made an error noise. "Nope! The entire Young Justice is codependent and clingy, so it just looks normal. And Dani just follows around Kon and Tim in intervals so you can't see either of them." He also grimaced at Tim, who was still working at the computer. "And Tim is already watching them, aren't you? You three are a bunch of freaks."
Tim looked up with a small smirk, much to Damian's audible disgust. "You got me there. I keep trackers and cameras on all of them. And Dani's usually just invisible."
Danny smiled triumphantly. "Hah! See? I'm the least clingy!"
There were murmurs of agreement and then Duke said, "I don't know, I think all four of you are clingy and weird."
Danny sulked. "No I'm not."
Duke gestured to all of him. "You're literally climbing Cass like a koala."
Okay, so his legs were wrapped around her waist and he was hanging onto her like a sticker, but so what? She didn't mind!
Cass snickered and said, "It's okay. He's light."
"Yeah, I'm light," grumbled Danny as he squeezed her.
Duke and Damian shared a look, as Duke said, "We should get out of here. Thank god these freaks are taken."
"Agreed. Thank goodness we are the most normal."
Now there were cries of outrage throughout the entire cave all over again.
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#danny fenton#jazz fenton#jason todd#duke thomas#danny x cass#cassandra wayne#dani fenton#dani phantom#tim drake#tim x kon x dani#two for one ship#dead silent ship#dick grayson#dick x dan#bad humor ship#anger management ship#hardcover ship#jason x jazz#lmaoooo ty for the ask#kitkat-4772#jazz has a shadow friend#dark danny#phantom family
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á´á´á´á´É´á´ÉŞá´É´ - á´á´á´á´ ęąá´á´ĘÉ´ÉŞá´Ęá´
summary: matts been so busy with his filming schedule, that when he comes home you're basically begging for his touch for almost an hour, he finally gives in.
contains: smut, fingering, needy reader, softdom!Matt, swearing, small argument, crying.
--------------------âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ----------âââ
matt and I have been dating for almost a year, and in the past few months, he's been so busy to the point where I've just been hanging out at his house during the day, today is one of those days. I've been touch-deprived bed rotting in Matt's room.
the front door unlocks with a bang from downstairs, i sit up in matts bed, the blankets slowly falling off my chest. "matt!?" i call out, rubbing my face.
"hey baby", matt says while walking into the room, his voice is low and croaky. he doesnt even look my way as he slumps down on his desk chair.
he throws on his headphones, instantly starting to edit the Wednesday video.
"for fucks sake." i groan quietly, throwing my head back down into the pillows.
"matt." i whine, he looks over his shoulder at me "mm?" he says, his long fingers resting on the keyboard.
"i need you.." i say, maintaining eye contact with him.
he nods, turning back around to his computer, starting to edit again.
its not even been 10 minutes before my mouth is opening again.
"matthew."
"sweetheart what is it."he says, pulling his headphones off and spinning his chair back around to face the bed.
i pout my lips, "please come here, you can edit tommorow."
"i told you it'll be a while, i know your upset but this is very important." he says in a tone that reminds me of my childhood, hes acting like my dad.
"so more important than me then hm?" i roll my eyes.
"don't be silly." he replies.
-
45 minutes later
11:29pm
i've been laying in matts sheet for almost an hour while hes been editing, hes stopped replying to me everytime i say his name now.
i let out a dramatic sigh, which of course matt pays no attention to.
"for fucks sake matt!" i raise my voice, sitting up in bed.
"what. literally what." he says, slamming his headphones down into the desk.
"look, should i even be here? should i even be with you? you've quite literally payed no attention to me for like 3 months?! am i just a fuck toy now or what."
his eyes widen "oh please." he scoffs in disbelief, he head shaking in shock.
i stay silent, i need to have a proper conversation with him for once.
he powers off his computer before standing up abrubtly. he almost stomps over to the bed before laying down next to me. "happy?" he asks, his voice monotone.
"no, im fucking not matt." i say, my voice breaking followed by a sob.
i see matts head snap round to look at me, his eyes squinting.
"are you crying- shit.. wait."
i hide my face in my hands while matt sits up, he lets out a shaky breath.
"oh fuck no please don't cry" he says, placing a hand on the side of my face. "look at me, look at me y/n." matt says sternly.
i slowly peel my hands away from my face, tears now streaming down my cheeks. matts face is painted with guilt and concern.
"sit up." he says, which i do.
he grabs both sides of my face
"i love you so fucking much, you know that." matt says softly, staring into my eyes.
i shake my head "i'm not sure i know that anymore." i sniff.
matts jaw drops slightly, a silence filling the room.
"no, no nope. please don't ever say that." he starts.
"i am insanely grateful for you, work has been piling up like crazy and i know, i know i haven't had time for other people but once i get my yesterday's problem launched everything will be calm."
i hear the front door open from downstairs, chris and nicks chatter getting louder as they walk upstairs, but matt doesn't even bat an eye as he keeps rambling on.
"you're my favorite person ever, and i know i've been a proper dick these past weeks, but tommorow i have a day off, and if you would want we could go out, or-.. just lay here the whole day i really dont mind."
i wipe my eyes, leaning foward and grabbing matts jaw, pulling him into a passionate kiss.
we both pull away to catch our breath "can i do anything for you right now? to make you feel better.." matt says gentley, playing with my hair.
i nod, "just one thing.."
he nods, "yeah?" he smiles sweetly at me.
"i don't wanna say itt.." i say, my cheeks turning red
he lets out a small laugh, âit canât be that bad"
i grab his hand, rings decorating his pinky finger, his pointer and his thumb.
i push down all of his fingers execpt for two, the ring finger and middle finger.
matt nods understandingly âyeah?â
âyeah..â i say back.
âyouâve got to tell me with your words gorgeous.â
âi need your fingers.â i reply
âwhere do you need them?â he teases back.
âin.. me?â
âthere you go.â matt says, a smile spread across his face.
i lay back down in the sheets, peeling my shirt off my body. matt lays down too, âcan you lay on your side for me?â he says, which i do.
he turns onto his side aswell, grabbing my waist and pulling me towards his body, my bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt covering his torso.
he spoons me as his hand, which is decorated in rings, snakes round to the waist band of my pyjama shorts.
i feel his chest rise and fall against my back as his hand slowly pulls down the shorts to my knees.
matt traces random shapes up the inside of my thigh, slowly getting towards where i need him most.
a pathetic moan escapes my mouth as the cold metal of his ring grazes past my hole.
i havenât been touched in so long that the smallest touch is embarrassingly driving me crazy.
âplease.â i groan out, earning a small chuckle from matt into the back of my hair.
i look down at matts hand, which is resting on my pelvic bone.
"matt please-" i start but he cuts me off "i know, can you be nice and quiet for me? chris and nick are across the hall."
i nod "yes- yeah" i instantly reply.
his two fingers dip down to my clit, he rubs it slowly, barely applying pressure.
his elbow rests on my hip as his fingers pick up the pace, i feel matts breaths from behind me as i reverse back into him more, my back and ass fully pressed against matts chest and crotch.
i feel one of his fingers push against my entrance before he presses fully inside of me, his long finger filling me up. "fuck.." i say softly.
the feeling from matt ive been craving all day is turning me into a moaning mess.
he quickly adds his second finger, curling both of them inside of me. i grip the bedsheets in front of me as he repeatedly hits my g-spot.
i slam a hand over my mouth as i feel the knot in my stomach build up.
the fact i have to be quiet is making this 10 times hotter due to the fact matt usually lets me be as loud as i need to be, which is always loud.
"god 'feel so good around my fingers." matt says, his voice hoarse from behind me.
that'll do it
the knot in my stomach snaps, my hand thats on my mouth falls down into the mattress, gripping the sheets, "fuck matt oh my god!" i scream out, clenching around his fingers.
i feel matts breaths hitch against my back, he instantly pulls his fingers out of me and covers my mouth. "shh, shush" he laughs slightly.
i catch my breath slowly as matts hands keep on my mouth.
i roll over onto my back, matts still laying on his side.
"gross" i smile, "oh shit- yeah." matt says, taking the hand which was just inside me off my mouth.
i cuddle up next to him "thank you" i whisper as i pull up the blankets.
"no- no thank you for forgiving me" he says, rubbing my arms softly.
my eyelids feel heavy, somehow tired after doing nothing all day. matts tense underneath me, i assume hes just mad at himself about earlier but then the realization hits me that hes just fingered me for a few minutes without getting anything back.
"matt" i say, sitting up and pulling the blankets down. "what?" matt says, running a hand through his hair.
i point to his sweatpants, that have a very obvious tent.
"you're hard! why didn't you tell me i could've helped?" i say, reaching for his waistband.
matt grabs my wrist, stopping me "no- no its okay, i don't want you to have to do anything for me after i've been shitty to you."
"thats gotta hurt matt cmon, its okay." i laugh slightly, resisting matts grip on my wrist.
"no, no go to sleep sweetheart it'll go away in like 5 minutes." he says with a smile, pulling the blanket back up over us and playing with my hair.
i sigh "are you sure, i dont mind helping-" he cuts me off "im sure, get some rest."
-
10 minutes later.
i sit up in bed after hearing the bathroom door slam shut. matts no longer next to me.
my eyebrows scrunch as i stand up out of bed, stumbling over to the bedroom door and opening it.
i walk down the corrider to nicks room, i open it to find him fast asleep with chris on their beanbag.
i shut their door, walking over to the bathroom door.
i slowly push it open to find matt standing over the toilet, his eyes shut and head thrown back as he repetedy runs his ringed hand up and down his length quickly.
"oh-"
matts eyes open and his head swings round to look at me "what are you doing!" he says, frantically pulling up his sweatpants.
"im sorry im sorry!" i say, slamming the bathroom door shut.
i hear the water run before matt walks out of the bathroom only a few seconds later, his cheeks are a deep red and he has small droplets of sweat on his forehead.
he smiles at me awkwardly but i instantly grab his shoulders and spin him round.
"matthew go finish up in there, you've been hard for almost half an hour."
"o-okay yep thank you." he replies instantly, speed-walking back into the bathroom eagerly, slamming the door shut behind him.
-----------------------
#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine
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Company that makes millions spying on students will get to sue a whistleblower
Yesterday, the Court of Appeal for British Columbia handed down a jaw-droppingly stupid and terrible decision, rejecting the whistleblower Ian Linkletterâs claim that he was engaged in legitimate criticism when he linked to freely available materials from the ed-tech surveillance company Proctorio:
https://www.bccourts.ca/jdb-txt/ca/23/01/2023BCCA0160.htm
If youâd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, hereâs a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/20/links-arent-performances/#free-ian-linkletter
Itâs been a minute since Linkletterâs case arose, so Iâll give you a little recap here. Proctorio is a massive, wildly profitable ed-tech company that sells a surveillance tool to monitor students while they take high-stakes tests from home. The tool monitors the studentâs computer and the studentâs face, especially their eye-movements. It also allows instructors and other personnel to watch the students and even take control of their computer. This is called âremote invigilation.â
This is ghastly in just about every way. For starters, Proctorioâs facial monitoring software embeds the usual racist problems with machine-learning stuff, and struggles to recognize Black and brown faces. Black children sitting exams under Proctorioâs gimlet eye have reported that the only way to satisfy Proctorioâs digital phrenology system is to work with multiple high-powered lights shining directly in their faces.
A Proctorio session typically begins with a student being forced to pan a webcam around their test-taking room. During lockdown, this meant that students who shared a roomâââfor example, with a parent who worked night-shiftsâââwould have to invade their familyâs privacy, and might be disqualified because they couldnât afford a place large enough to have private room in which to take their tests.
Proctorioâs tools also punish students for engaging in normal test-taking activity. Do you stare off into space when youâre trying through a problem? Bzzzt. Do you read questions aloud to yourself under your breath when youâre trying to understand their meanings? Bzzzt. Do you have IBS and need to go to the toilet? Bzzzt. The canon of remote invigilation horror stories is filled with accounts of students being forced to defecate themselves, or vomit down their shirts without turning their heads (because looking away is an automatically flagged offense).
The tragedy is that all of this is in service to the pedagogically bankrupt practice of high-stakes testing. Few pedagogists believe that the kind of exam that Proctorio seeks to recreate in studentsâ homes has real assessment merit. As the old saying goes, âTests measure your ability to take tests.â But Proctorio doesnât even measure your ability to take a testâââit measures your ability to take a test with three bright lights shining directly on your face. Or while you are covered in your own feces and vomit. While you stare rigidly at a screen. While your tired mother who just worked 16 hours in a covid ward stands outside the door to your apartment.
The lockdown could have been an opportunity to improve educational assessment. There is a rich panoply of techniques that educators can adopt that deliver a far better picture of studentsâ learning, and work well for remote as well as in-person education. Instead, companies like Proctorio made vast fortunes, most of it from publicly funded institutions, by encouraging a worse-than-useless, discriminatory practice:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/24/proctor-ology/#miseducation
Proctorio clearly knows that its racket is brittle. Like any disaster profiteer, Proctorio will struggle to survive after the crisis passes and we awaken from our collective nightmare and ask ourselves why we were stampeded into using its terrible products. The company went to war against its critics.
In 2020, Proctorio CEO Mike Olsen doxed a child who complained about his companyâs software in a Reddit forum:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/01/bossware/#moral-exemplar
In 2021, the reviews for Proctorioâs Chrome plugin all mysteriously vanished. Needless to say, these reviewsâââfrom students forced to use Proctorioâs spywareâââwere brutal:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/04/hypervigilance/#radical-transparency
Proctorio claims that it protects âeducational integrity,â but its actions suggest a company far more concerned about the integrity of its own profits:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#cheating-anticheat
One of the critics that Proctorio attacked is Ian Linkletter. In 2020, Linkletter was a Learning Technology Specialist at UBCâs Faculty of Education. His job was to assess and support ed-tech tools, including Proctorio. In the course of that work, Linkletter reviewed Proctorioâs training material for educators, which are a bonanza of mask-off materials that are palpably contemptuous of students, who are presumed to be cheaters.
At the time, a debate over remote invigilation tools was raging through Canadian education circles, with students, teachers and parents fiercely arguing the merits and downsides of making surveillance the linchpin of assessment. Linkletter waded into this debate, tweeting a series of sharp criticisms of Proctorio. In these tweets, Linkletter linked to Proctorioâs unlisted, but publicly available, Youtube videos.
A note of explanation: Youtube videos can be flagged as âunlisted,â which means they donât show up in searches. They can also be flagged as âprivate,â which means you have to be on a list of authorized users to see them. Proctorio made its training videos unlisted, but they werenât privateâââthey were visible to anyone who had a link to them.
Proctorio sued Linkletter for this. They argued that he had breached a duty of confidentiality, and that linking to these videos was a copyright violation:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/17/proctorio-v-linkletter/#proctorio
This is a classic SLAPPâââa âstrategic litigation against public participation.â Thatâs when a deep-pocketed, thin-skinned bully, like Proctorio, uses the threat of a long court battle to force their critics into silence. They know they canât win their case, but thatâs not the victory theyâre seeking. They donât want to win the case, they want to win the argument, by silencing a critic who would otherwise be bankrupted by legal fees.
Getting SLAPPed is no fun. Iâve been there. Just this year, a billionaire financier tried to force me into silence by threatening me with a lawsuit. Thankfully, Ken âPopehatâ White was on the case, and he reminded this billionaireâs counsel that California has a strong anti-SLAPP law, and if Ken had to defend me in court, he could get a fortune in fees from the bully after he prevailed:
https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1531684572479377409
British Columbia also has an anti-SLAPP law, but unlike Californiaâs anti-SLAPP, the law is relatively new and untested. Still, Proctorioâs suit against Linkletter was such an obvious SLAPP that for many of us, it seemed likely that Linkletter would be able to defend himself from this American bully and its attempt to use Canadaâs courts to silence a Canadian educator.
For Linkletter to use BCâs anti-SLAPP law, he would have to prove that he was weighing in on a matter of public interest, and that Proctorioâs copyright and confidentiality claims were nonsense, unlikely to prevail on their merits. If he could do that, heâd be able to get the case thrown out, without having to go through a lengthy, brutally expensive trial.
Incredibly, though, the lower court found against Linkletter. Naturally, Linkletter appealed. His âfactotumâ is a crystal clear document that sets out the serious errors of law and fact the lower court made:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aB1ztWDFr3MU6BsAMt6rWXOiXJ8sT3MY/view
But yesterday, the Court of Appeal upheld the lower court, repeating all of these gross errors and finding for Proctorio:
https://www.bccourts.ca/jdb-txt/ca/23/01/2023BCCA0160.htm
This judgment is grotesque. It makes a mockery of BCâs anti-SLAPP statute, to say nothing of Canadian copyright and confidentiality law. For starters, it finds that publishing a link can be a âperformanceâ of a copyrighted work, which meant that when Linkletter linked to the world-viewable Youtube files that Proctorio had posted, he infringed on copyright.
This is a perverse, even surreal take on copyright. The court rejects Linkletterâs argument that even Youtubeâs terms of service warned Proctorio that publishing world-viewable material on its site constituted permission for people to link to and watch that material.
But what about âfair dealingâ (similar to fair use)? Linkletter argued that linking to a video that shows that Proctorioâs assurances to parents and students about its productsâ benign nature were contradicted by the way it talked to educators was fair dealing. Fair dealing is a broad suite of limitations and exceptions to copyright for the purposes of commentary, criticism, study, satire, etc.
So even if linking is a copyright infringement (ugh, seriously?!), surely itâs fair dealing in this case. Proctorio was selling millions of dollars in software to public institutions, inflicting it on kids whose parents werenât getting the whole story. Linkletter used Proctorioâs own words to rebut its assurances. What could be more fair dealing than that?
Not so fast, the appeals panel says: they say that Linkletter could have made his case just as well without linking to Proctorioâs materials. This isâŚbad. I mean, itâs also wrong, but itâs very bad, too. Itâs wrong because an argument about what a company intends necessarily has to draw upon the companyâs own statements. Itâs absurd to say that Linkletterâs point would have been made equally well if he said âI disbelieve Proctorioâs public assurances because Iâve seen seekrit documentsâ as it was when he was able to link to those documents so that people could see them for themselves.
But itâs bad because it rips the heart out of the fair dealing exception for criticism. Publishing a link to a copyrighted work is the most minimal way to quote from it in a debateâââLinkletter literally didnât reproduce a single word, not a single letter, from Proctorioâs copyrighted works. If the court says, âSure, you can quote from a work to criticize it, but only so much as you need to make your argument,â and then says, âBut also, simply referencing a work without quoting it at all is taking too much,â then what reasonable person would ever try to rely on a fair dealing exemption for criticism?
Then thereâs the confidentiality claim: in his submissions to the lower court and the appeals court, Linkletter pointed out that the âconfidentialâ materials heâd linked to were available in many places online, and could be easily located with a Google search. Proctorio had uploaded these âconfidentialâ materials to many sitesâââwithout flagging them as âunlistedâ or âprivate.â
Whatâs more, the videos that Linkletter linked to were in found a âHelp Centerâ that didnât even have a terms-of-service condition that required confidentiality. How on Earth can materials that are publicly available all over the web be âconfidential?â
Here, the court takes yet another bizarre turn in logic. They find that because a member of the public would have to âgatherâ the videos from âmany sources,â that the collection of links was confidential, even if none of the links in the collection were confidential. Again, this is both wrong and bad.
Every investigator, every journalist, every critic, starts by looking in different places for information that can be combined to paint a coherent picture of whatâs going on. This is the heart of âopen source intelligence,â combing different sources for data points that shed light on one another.
The idea that âgatheringâ public information can breach confidentiality strikes directly at all investigative activity. Every day, every newspaper and news broadcast in Canada engages in this conduct. The appeals court has put them all in jeopardy with this terrible finding.
Finally, thereâs the question of Proctorioâs security. Proctorio argued that by publishing links to its educator materials, Linkletter weakened the security of its products. That is, they claim that if students know how the invigilation tool works, it stops working. This is the very definition of âsecurity through obscurity,â and itâs a practice that every serious infosec professional rejects. If Proctorio is telling the truth when it says that describing how its products work makes them stop working, then they make bad products that no one should pay money for.
The court absolutely flubs this one, too, accepting the claim of security through obscurity at face value. Thatâs a finding that flies in the face of all security research.
So what happens now? Well, Linkletter has lost his SLAPP claim, so nominally the case can proceed. Linkletter could appeal his case to Canadaâs Supreme Court (about 7% of Supreme Court appeals of BC appeals court judgments get heard). Or Proctorio could drop the case. Or it could go to a full trial, where these outlandish ideas about copyright, confidentiality and information security would get a thoroughâââand blisteringly expensiveâââexamination.
In Linkletterâs statement, he remains defiant and unwilling to give in to bullying, but says heâll have to âcarefully considerâ his next step. Thatâs fair enough: thereâs a lot on the line here:
https://linkletter.opened.ca/stand-against-proctorios-slapp-update-30/
Linkletter answers his supportersâ questions about how they can help with some excellent advice: âWhat I ask is for you to do what you can to protect students. Academic surveillance technology companies would like nothing more but for us all to shut up. Donât let them silence you. Donât let anyone or anything take away your human right to freedom of expression.â
Today (Apr 21), Iâm speaking in Chicago at the Stigler Centerâs Antitrust and Competition Conference. This weekend (Apr 22/23), Iâm at the LA Times Festival of Books.
[Image ID: A girl working on a laptop. Her mouth has been taped shut. Glaring out of the laptop screen is the hostile red eye of HAL9000 from '2001: A Space Odyssey.' Behind them is a tattered, filthy, burned Canadian flag.]
Image: Ingo Bernhardt https://www.flickr.com/photos/spree2010/4930763550/
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/
Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
Eleanor Vladinsky (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Canadian_flag_against_grey_sky.jpg
CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
#pluralistic#security through obscurity#copyfight#education#cdnpoli#whistleblowers#pedagogy#canada#intimidation#corruption#slapp#ian linkletter#proctorio#censorship#remote invigilation
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Chapter 1: Are You Always Like This?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary:Â When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more youâre around him the more you hate him, but you canât help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)
Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Implied/Eventual), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Fake Dating
Word Count: 7.4 K (OOPS)
Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+/Mature because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension, violence. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you donât like, donât read, but if you do like, youâre my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.
A/N: I know I know, I should be working on "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," but this idea was swirling around in my head and I had to write it.
Spotify Playlist đŞ´
Masterlist
Take A Chance On Me Masterlist
You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
"Alright Butcher, I'm done." You sigh closing the file in front of you and standing from the worn wooden table covered in empty Chinese food containers and stacks of papers almost as tall as you. "If I read another word about trying to stop an electrical current, I'm going to commit toaster bath and I'm taking you with me."
It was late, past two in the morning, but Butcher had a lead on a B-list supe that had been using his electrical powers to steal cars and run a chop shop business downtown. You had been close to catching him yesterday, so close in fact that your eyebrows were still a little crispy from when he shot a bolt of lightning at your face that you only dodged in the nick of time when Soldier Boy grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you out of the way. Unfortunately, your shirt hadn't survived, it had ripped and you spent the rest of the day wearing one of Butcher's oversize Hawaiian shirts all the while Soldier Boy told you that it was a waste to keep a pretty little figure like yours covered up.
I hate him so much.
When Butcher had initially asked you to join his team a month ago you were excited, but then you found out that you were going to be stuck with Soldier Boy. The supe, that despite Annie's arguments should be given back to the government and put on ice, was allowed to join Butcher's team after he took down Homelander. Who was currently frozen on ice, somewhere. As long as Homelander was far from you, you didn't care. The guy gave you the creeps.
But the team still couldn't figure out where the electricity manipulating supe was hiding or where he was dropping the cars, which meant you had spent the past twelve hours staring at files and a computer screen so hard that you felt like your brain going to melt out of your ears.
"Do whatever ya want kid. I'm not ya damn babysitter." Butcher grunts, his face hidden behind his own file. His boots were on the table and he was leaning back in his chair so far that you were tempted to tip him over, all it would take was a good solid kick.
You smile at him. Butcher was adept at pretending that he didn't want you around, of course you knew how antsy he got when you weren't there to offer your opinion. You figured that he just liked pushing people away and given his history you understood that.
Annie sits up from where she and Hughie are cuddling on the couch. "Why don't you stay?" Her brow furrows with worry. Annie was big on the whole, "women not walking at home alone at night thing," which normally you didn't, but you figured that whatever was waiting outside the apartment was probably less intimidating than Homelander. And you could handle it.
"Because I'd like to sleep in my own bed tonight and not that godforsaken rickety cot in the corner that Frenchie got. Can't stand that one spring that always seems so happy to see me." You pull your leather jacket off of the back of the chair and whirl it around your shoulders, before bringing your hair out from under the collar.
Hughie snorts.
"Hey, that cot is an antique!" Frenchie crows from his highbacked chair spewing a mouthful of smoke into the air. Kimiko was sitting at the coffee table in front of him working on her writing, a thick black marker clutched in her hand. MM was taking the night off, but you thought he was probably trying to avoid Soldier Boy.
"Yeah well, that cot is about as old as grandpa over there." You gesture to where Soldier Boy is sitting in another one of the armchairs in the corner watching you while puffing on a joint.
He was always watching you and due to your inability to read his mind it made it difficult for you to gauge what he was thinking, but you assumed that it was the usual macho crap he spouted 100% of the time. But he wasn't checking you out, well this time he wasn't. You had caught him staring at your butt more than once, and he'd made several comments about exactly what he'd like to do to you, but right now an emotion glimmered behind his eyes that you couldn't place.
Soldier Boy stands from the chair. He was wearing a dark t-shirt that stretched over his chest and a pair of blue jeans that fit him just right, well, if you were looking at that. You were, but it was easier to pretend that you weren't. It was easier to pretend that he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen in your life.
Damn it, why does someone so attractive have to be such a dick?
 "A lady like you shouldn't be walking home alone this late." He frowns at you.
"Like me?" You arch an eyebrow.
"Good thing she ain't a lady." Butcher chuckles at his joke
You punch him hard on the arm, not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt.
âBloody hell woman.â Butcher rubs his sore bicep shooting you an angry look.
Not many people could look intimidating while wearing a Hawaiian shirt, but Butcher pulled it off. Not many people looked good in a Hawaiian shirt either, but Butcher pulled that off too.
"I'm serious." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow.
"Oh now you're so chivalrous?" You cock your hip to the side, planting your hands on your hips. "Didn't you try to kill me last month?"
"To be fair, you were trying to kill me-"
"Because you were trying to kill Annie. Where was the chivalry when you tried to tear me apart with your bare hands?"
"There are plenty of other things I'd like to do to you with my bare hands sweetheart." His grin turns wolfish. "I'd be happy to show you sometime, perhaps you'd like some company?"
"I'd rather spend an hour with that ancient spring than roll around with you." You tap your lip thoughtfully. âThen again Iâm sure that cot is the same age as you and it can at least get it up.â
Annie muffles a snort behind her hand.
âLast time I checked everything was working, perhaps youâd like to see for yourself?â Soldier Boy smirks.
 "Can't you keep in your pants for once?" Butcher sighs, tilting the file downward to glare at Soldier Boy.
You can't help but smile at Butcher's response. Butcher might have tried to push you away, but even you could see his protective instincts. That became wildly apparent whenever you went out on a mission alone and although you would think that it was annoying for someone to think they needed to protect you, in Butcher's case you made an exception.
Soldier Boy rolls his eyes. "She shouldn't walk home alone."
You wave your hand over the wilting fern on the kitchen counter, eyes shifting to green for a moment as it perks up. It was the only plant in the house and although six people lived in this apartment, not one ever remembered to water it. "And you shouldn't butt into my business."
Soldier Boy opens his mouth to speak, but Annie interrupts his train of thought.
"Wait y/n. Coffee tomorrow?" Annie asks ignoring them. She's sitting up from the couch, her body turned towards you with both of her hands on the back cushions.Â
She was one of your best friends, well, really one of your only friends. You'd grown up together and when Annie moved to New York you had decided to move and take some college classes in the city while you worked at a small garden shop after class part time.
The owner still couldn't figure out why nothing you cared for seemed to die.
You usually kept your status as a supe on the down low, and only used your powers when you really had to, which wasn't often before you joined Butcher's team. You'd only lasted two semesters before Annie came to ask you for help finding Soldier Boy and after that, Butcher asked you to join his team for shit pay. You accepted but you still worked at the garden shop part-time, also for terrible pay, but you loved it there.
Your powers made it easy to make sure nothing died and sometimes it felt like home being surrounded by plants. Caring for them was the one thing you seemed to be good at, and sometimes they felt like family.
You didn't have much family left, beside your grandmother and your older brother who still lived back in Des Moines, and sometimes it was lonely in the city. Annie was the only person who you'd been able to connect with since you moved, and now that you weren't going to classes the friends you made in college didn't really understand what you were doing with your life.
And telling them "oh I hunt down supes for a living and sometimes kill them" didn't really sound like something you could say in passing. It also did wonders for your dating life⌠NOT.
"Sorry babe, I'm at the shop tomorrow. But I'm off at 3 if you want to get coffee after?" You hold open the front door of the apartment, looking back at her expectantly.
You hated blowing Annie off, especially since the two of you hadn't been able to hang out outside of missions mostly because she was spending all her time with Hughie.
"Sounds great!" She beams.
And with that you disappear out down the hallway and into the night.
It's raining as you walk down the desolate streets. Cars splash water over the gum covered sidewalks that soaks through your tennis shoes and makes every step against the ground squish. But you ignore it.
You usually loved when it rained, loved to feel the cooling water pool against your skin, loved to hear the soft patter of it against the windows of your apartment, loved the earthy smell that came with the drops, but not tonight. You were still thinking about Soldier Boy.
You don't know why you let him get under your skin so much. You'd met men like him in the past and it was usually easy for you to brush them off, but not him.
I mean yes he is gorgeous, and maybe kind of charming when he's not trying to get into my pants, but I don't want just a one night fling. I want what Annie and Hughie have.
You think about your best friend and her loving boyfriend. You tried not to be jealous, but it was hard when the last time you had a lasting relationship was your first boyfriend back in high school who, when he found out you were a supe, was only interested if you had the power to shape shift into someone 'a little more busty.' The relationship ended with you locking him in a tree and the fire department having to come cut him out. He was fine, maybe a little more green than a normal person, but...
You'd heard that he got a job from the Green Giant Vegetable Company doing cameos as the Jolly Green Giant. So if anything, you helped him have a career?
Annie and Hughie were both head over heels in love with each other, knew everything about each other, didn't have any secrets, and it wasn't just sex, it was a close relationship with someone else who understood every part of you. You wanted that; and as much as you had avoided relationships in the past due to your supe status, you still hoped to find a supe that was kind and didn't think that they were a god for what they could do.
Why do so many have a god complex?
You think again about Soldier Boy. That wasn't the first time he had tried to coax you into bed and it wouldn't be the last, that was for sure. At first you had hoped that he would give up, it had been a month since you'd met, but he was still going strong, despite having a different woman in that apartment almost every night.
Maybe he's just really horny after being trapped in a lab all these years. Then again- You remember all the articles you read about him from the 80s, the ones that recorded his numerous escapades and think about his founding of Herogasm.
Maybe he's always like that, but he never comes on to Annie or Kimiko, only me. And I've threatened castration multiple times. You'd think he would care more about that than anything else.
You consider with a frown, clutching your jacket tighter around you. Rain trickled down from your hair and under the collar of your jacket to soak into your t-shirt. Your once light blue jeans were soaked to a dark navy with the amount of water that splashed up from the road and dripped down your back. For the first time in forever, you wished that it wasn't raining.
Probably should have just gotten a cab, but it's so expensive and-
"Hey baby." Someone calls from behind you.
Can't I just walk home without being hit on? One time?
"Not interested." You shout back, continuing to squish down the cracked sidewalks.
Three shadows peel off the wall of shops to your left blocking your path forward. Each is wearing a dark colored hoodie hiding their faces from view.
Is my luck really this bad? I never hear about Annie getting mugged or Hughie. And Hughie definitely looks wimpier than me.
"Don't be like that baby." The man behind you says.
You half turn your body so you can see all your supposed attackers at once. There are actually two men behind you, both wearing similar hoodies to the three now standing on your right.
Oh look they color coordinated their outfits⌠cute.
The man opens his mouth again.
"I'm gonna stop you right there." You hold up a finger. "I've been dealing with a horny 104 year old geriatric man all day long. Please don't push me right now." It was an attempt to warn them, but you knew they probably wouldnât listen to you.
No one ever does.
"Sounds like you need someone to relax with." The man smirks steeping forward to grab your arm. "I'd be happy to ease some of that tension baby."
"Look. I'm going to give you a chance to walk away. To avoid making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. Because honestly you all have the worst luck in the world." You jerk your arm away from him.
"I like em feisty.â He purrs stepping forward again while the others laugh. âCome on baby-â
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You grab him around the throat, lifting him in the air like he weighs nothing, your eyes beginning to glow a brilliant green.
âI did try to warn you.â
"She's a supe!" He shouts struggling against your grip.
You throw him backwards into the other man standing to your right before facing the men on your left. Each one has pulled out a knife preparing to rush towards you.
"I get it. Yâall are out late, you bought matching outfits, but do we really have to-â
The first one rushes you, waving his knife through the air in a frantic dance. He doesn't get the chance to make contact with your arm. Vines erupt out of the pavement, breaking through the cracks in the concrete, binding themselves around the man who lets out a savage cry, quickly silenced while the vines continue to wrap around his body until there's nothing left but a mass of struggling green foliage on the pavement and some muffled screams.
He's lucky, could have had him dragged back under ground.
His friends stand there for a moment, eyeing one another as if they're not sure what just happened. You can practically see them trying to decide if you're still worth the trouble.
âAnyone else?â
The battle that follows is swift, the sound of cracking bones and the soft thud of punches landing echo over the soft patter of rain in the night as you dodge their blows and land your own against them. The vines continue to spread outward snatching up the men who fall to the ground in front of you, dragging each one up the street light above that sends yellowed light over the desolate streets. By now each bound body hangs from above like a sack of meat in a meat cooler, moving with the struggling men inside while the muffled cries shatter the still silence of the night.
Sometimes it's really too easy.
And as you begin to turn back someone grabs you by the hair, yanking you into their sweaty embrace. The leader's hot breath sticks to your cheeks, the cool metal of his switchblade pressing down so hard on your throat that you feel the pinprick of blood begin to form under the tip.
âWhat are you gonna do now bitch?â He snarls in your ear.
"Give you one more chance to surrender." You spit.
Like I'm going to give him the satisfaction of me begging for my life.
"I'm gonna enjoy this-" The man begins to say, pressing the knife deeper into your throat, but the rest of his sentence is cut off with a strangled cry as he's pulled away from you.
 What the hell just-
You turn around, freezing in shock.
Soldier Boy is crouching there in his t-shirt, jacket, and jeans over the man who just had a knife to your throat. His fist rising and falling as he punches the man in the face.
"Donât you ever touch her." Soldier Boy snarls. His fist is already covered in blood, the manâs face a mass of bloodied tissue and bone.
"Stop you're going to kill him-" You run forward to stop Soldier Boy, but he doesn't stop even when you try to grab on to his hand.
"I said STOP." You shout louder, this time manipulating a vine to wrap around Soldier Boy's arm and restrain it.
Fuck he might already be dead.
"Let me go." Soldier Boy's eyes narrow. The usual green was replaced by a darkened pit with his rage. You'd only ever seen him this mad a handful of times, one of which was when the supe tried to zap you like a fly in one of those insect traps two days ago.
Why is he angry?
"I'm not going to let you go, until you promise not to kill him."
"I should." He snarls back at you.
"What are you talking about?"
He stands from the body, eyeing the last attacker who runs full speed down the sidewalk and vanishes into the darkness.  "I should kill him for trying to hurt you." Soldier Boy says simply.
You wave your hand allowing the vine to let go of his arm. "Where do you come off so high and mighty? You literally tried to kill me last month."
"That was before I-" He shakes his head angrily, eyes still blazing.
"Look I don't need you to protect me. Given what I've had to deal with all day I was looking forward to kicking some ass."
"You did." He smirks nodding his head in the direction of the men hanging from the streetlamp above you. âI just thought that you were outnumbered.â
"Why are you here?" You sigh pinching the bridge of your nose.
"I wanted to go for a stroll." Soldier Boy shrugs. He flexes his hand, before wiping the blood on the front of the sweatshirt of the man on the ground.
"Uh-huh. Well I don't need you to protect me." You say again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I had this handled."
"You sure doll?"
"Look I get it- you think that you're some knight in shining armor because you have this macho complex. But I'm fine on my own." You begin to step around the bodies of the men on the ground moving in the direction of your apartment, but Soldier Boy follows you.
"Where do you think you're going?" You turn to look at where he falls into step beside you.
"You shouldn't be walking home alone."
"Well you're sure as hell not going home with me."
His lip turns up in a smirk, towering over you. Soldier Boy is easily a foot taller than you, so broad that it's impossible to look past his imposing figure. It would be attractive if he wasn't so damn annoying. "Come on sweetheart, I know you want me to go home with you." He purrs with a smile. "I think you'd really enjoy it if I did. And I'll even let you tie me up with those pretty vines of yours." Ben leans in towards your face and you take a step back.
"Hard pass. So what? Is this your big move? Acting all chivalrous just to get a woman into bed with you?"
"That depends, is it working?"
"No. Now go back to the apartment, before I send you there in pieces." You turn back to squish down the sidewalk at a faster pace, hoping he will get a hint and leave you alone. But you knew he wouldnât stop. He practically thrived on teasing you, had been the bane of your existence since you met him. And nothing seemed to dissuade him.
"What is your problem with me?" He jogs to catch up. "And don't say that it's because I tried to kill you, that was last month-"
"I think that's applicable to this week and the week after that and the week after that." You count out with every finger to further emphasize your point, but you know that Soldier Boy won't give up that easy.
"Are you always this fucking angry?" He almost laughs.
"I donât know. Are you always this fucking annoying?" You turn to face him narrowing your eyes.
Soldier Boy chuckles at your look, running a hand through his hair that has darkened in the spray of water, his green eyes watching you curiously. They were shinning now, not the blacked pits of hate they were when he was beating the guy two minutes ago. For a second, just for a second, you see how handsome he is all over again.
"Come on, give me a real answer and I'll leave you alone." He's smiling at you now, giving you one of those boyish grins that, if it were anyone else, would make your heart stop.
He just wants sex. He doesn't care about you. He won't ever care about you. Breathe.
"Fine." You sigh. "You might say you're a supe, but you're not a hero. People like you and Homelander, you don't care about anyone but yourself. You use your powers for you and on your own terms. You were going to kill that guy-" You gesture back towards where the body is still on the ground, the man's heart beat is dangerously low.
"He was threatening you. A thank you might be nice." Soldier Boy's cheeks flush as he glares down at you with darkened eyes, his anger surging back in his chest.
"Yes he was threatening me, but I'm okay and you could have just taken him to jail. You didn't have to beat his face in."
"So you're saying if he had been attacking someone else you wouldn't have done the same?"
"I would have subdued him and then waited for the police to get there. The men hanging from the streetlight aren't dead. We aren't the law-"
"Right so those guys can get off with a warning and then go on and do the same thing over and over again." He scoffs rolling his eyes at you.
"It doesn't give you the right to kill them."
"I suppose you don't believe in the death penalty either."
"I believe in the death penalty Gramps. I just don't believe it is our job to carry it out." Your temper was flaring against your skin distracting you from the chill of the rain as it soaked into your clothes.
"Do you have any idea how many women would love to be saved by me?" Soldier Boy asks. He shakes his head as if he can't understand you.
You didn't blame him, most people didn't, that was why you spent most of your time alone.
"I'm not one of them. So leave me alone." You turn to go.
Honestly, why is this the kind of guy I attract? You roll your eyes to yourself. Oh you mean, tall, dark, handsome, gorgeous- The other little voice in your head whispers in your ear. NO. You tell yourself. Please I just want one guy who's not a total dick. Why is that so hard?
"I still don't think it's a good answer." He huffs.
"Of course you don't." You roll your eyes and begin to walk again. The streetlamps above send an eerie yellow glow over the parked cars along the road and over the crackled pavement. If Soldier Boy wasn't here bothering you, you might have stopped to admire the water as it splashed underneath the suspension bridge beyond the crowded buildings, but you wanted to get home. Without him if possible.
You glance over at Soldier Boy again. He looks normal right now, always does when he's not wearing his suit. And when he shut up you could see why people were so in love with him. It was when he opened his mouth that it reminded you exactly why you didn't like him.
You stop in front of your apartment building and force yourself to smile. "Thank you for walking me home." You say through tight lips, hoping that the false sincerity will make him leave.
He gazes up at your building with a frown. "This is a pretty shitty apartment building."
"Thank you. Not all of us inherited millions of dollars from our parents."
He pauses for a moment continuing to look up at the building, before he sighs loudly. "Look, I-." He sighs again. "I can't take listening to Annie and Hughie fucking. They go at it every night and she always makes the power go off."
You knew that already. It was another reason why you didn't like staying at the apartment, because listening to your best friend get railed by her boyfriend was not your idea of a good time.
You look up at Ben, and for a second you see a glimmer of the truth, just a flash of something that wasn't like the misogynistic attitude he usually had and it made you pause. He almost looked, sad and it made you feel bad for him. Of course you felt bad for him before, when you found out his entire team just gave him away to be experimented on and when probably the woman that he'd come the closest to loving really didn't care about him at all.
It must be incredibly lonely to come back to a world where almost everyone you know is dead. Guilt builds in your chest at the thought. I had lost my fair share of people, but not everyone in my life and I certainly didnât learn about it on the same day.
"You know I think that's the first honest thing you've ever said to me." You say quietly shifting from foot to foot.
He half-smiles. "Maybe."
You chew on the inside of your cheek considering. You weren't afraid of him. You knew that with your powers you could take him. You were stronger than most and harder to kill. And despite the bad things you thought about him and knew about him, you kinda thought he was relatively harmless, well, you didn't think he was a rapist.
"Fine. But you're staying on the couch. And if I wake up and you're anywhere near my bedroom, I'll castrate you." You warn as walk up to the front doors and type in the code to unlock them, with Soldier Boy following behind you.
When you make it to the third floor, you raise one hand to stop him from going any further. It falls against his muscular chest and you fail trying not to admire how it feels beneath your hand.
Why am I so thirsty?
"If you wanted to grab my chest doll, all you had to do was ask-" Soldier Boy begins to say, but you raise the hand to cover his mouth.
"Shh." You hiss. "We have to be quiet or Mike will come out-"
"Who?" He asks, muffled against your hand.
You hear a door down the hallway creak open, spilling yellowed light onto the dark blue carpet of the hallway. "Shit. Too late."
Mike steps out of his apartment with a wide smile as soon as he sees you. "HEY y/n!" He crows, waving his free hand enthusiastically. "I didn't know you were getting in so late, but I wanted to give you this." Mike holds out a giant casserole dish filled with something that you can't identify. It's multi colored with multiple layers, one of which looks suspiciously like rice and the next layer looks like cake.
There's no way I'm eating that. Maybe if I force feed it to Soldier Boy he'll leave me alone.
Mike was your neighbor, your neighbor who had lived next door to you for the past 2 years and was shamelessly in love with you. And as sweet as he was, there were a few things that you couldn't get past, most namely that he lived with his mother and that he had a mullet.
One time you'd had a nightmare about it ripping itself from his head, breaking in to your apartment, and smothering you in your sleep.
Not fun.
"Hey Mike." You smile tightly at him, dropping your hand from Soldier Boy's mouth. "Yeah I'm sorry I was out with some friends."
"You should have asked me to come! I love your friends." Mike smiles so wide you're afraid that it's going to break his face. âEspecially Butcher. Heâs so funny. Always joking-"
Poor Mike.
Every time that Butcher had come over to talk shop, he would mock Mike endlessly. And Mike was just too sweet to realize it. Hughie was the only one who actively tried to be nice to Mike, but even he found it difficult. Annie was the worst though, she'd tease you constantly about what your children would look like and had taken to photoshopping mullets onto pictures of babies and sending them to you at inopportune times.
"Maybe next time." You cough out an awkward laugh while Soldier Boy snorts behind you.
You continue down the hallway towards your apartment, the door next to his, and hope that he'll go back into his home, but no such luck.
âMy mom made this for you!â He holds the dish out towards you.
âOh um thatâs so nice of her. But I canât except that-â
Mike's mother comes to stand in the doorway of their shared apartment. She was wearing a bright purple Mumu, her makeup caked thickly on her face and her eyes accentuated with bright blue eye shadow. âSure you can sweetie. Youâre Mikeâs special friend.â She winks before trailing her eyes up and down your body. âAnd youâve got such a cute little figure.â His mother does a little shimmy as if trying to get you to do the same.
Kill me now.
âThatâs what I keep telling her.â Soldier Boy purrs behind you.
âDonât make me kill you.â You mutter back, knowing full well he can hear you with his super-hearing.
Oddly enough Mike does look suspiciously like his mother, they are both the same height, exactly three inches under you, and have the same mullet, but hers is a shocking blue-gray and his is jet black.
He blushes at her words. âAww mom.â
Soldier Boy muffles a laugh before disguising it into a cough. You elbow him hard in the stomach.
âWell thank you.â You take the casserole dish with one hand, hoping that you can open the door and usher Soldier Boy in before he makes a comment. "I've had a long day and it's really late-"
âI helped her make this one.â Mike interrupts scooting closer to you, so close that you get a lungful of his terrible cologne, the one that the super sells for four dollars and smells like baby powder and Cheez-its.
âA man who can do it all.â Soldier Boy whispers to you.
Mike looks above your head as if noticing Soldier Boy for the first time. âWhoâs that? I thought I knew all your friends.â
âHeâs certainly very handsome-â Mike's mother blushes from the doorway.
âYour brother?â Mike offers.
You can see his expression turn hopeful.
Probably thinking about how he can become friends with "said brother" and that will escalate our "relationship."Â
âIâm Ben.â Soldier Boy says, stepping around you to shake Mikeâs hand. âIâm y/n's boyfriend.â
Your cheeks bloom a bright pink, unable to respond to the ridiculous statement that he just made.
Murder. That's what sounds good right now.
âOh.â Mikeâs face falls. âI didnât know you had a boyfriend.â His eyes flick back to you, disappointment swimming in the irises.
You watch Mikeâs hope begin to circle the drain.
âWell actually-â You begin, but Soldier Boy interrupts you.
âSorry Iâve been out of town for a while. We've been trying to do this long distance thing- you know how it is, late night phone calls-â Ben trails off with a wolfish grin before dropping an arm around your shoulders. âBut I just couldnât take the long distance. Missed her too much. Phone call isnât the same as sleeping in the same bed. Definitely not as satisfying. Not to mention thereâs only so much my hand can do.â
Your cheeks bloom an even brighter red at his insinuation. Thatâs when Soldier Boy does something even more unforgivable, he pulls you tighter against him and kisses you right there in front of Mike and his mother. The kiss is searing, making everything in your mind go blissfully blank. It had been so long since someone kissed you, since someone had held you this close to them without trying to kill you. His tongue teases your bottom lip and before you can stop yourself you open your mouth wider to let him in sighing softly against his lips, while you grip the front of his jacket.
For a moment you canât remember why you didnât want him to kiss you, why you denied yourself of this for so long. And then Soldier Boy's hand slides from your back to grab a handful of your ass.
Right.
You slap him so hard across the face that you're sure it would have broken the cheekbone of anyone who wasnât a supe.
But Soldier Boy only grins wider, squeezing your butt again. âShe knows that I like it a little rough.â He turns his lazy gaze back to Mike.
You open your mouth to cuss him out.
âWell we should probably get going.â Soldier Boy breezes. âProbably going to be a long night. If you know what I mean. But weâll try to keep it down. Then again my girl's a little loud.â He winks at your poor neighbor who looks like he might cry, while his mother stands behind him fanning herself like Soldier Boy is everything she wants in a man.
He's ten for ten with the older ladies I'll say that.
âOh right. Well I guess Iâll see you around y/n.â Mike turns to go.
âMike wait-â You try to say but heâs already vanishing through the door.
âNice to meet you Mark.â Soldier Boy calls at his retreating figure, getting his name wrong on purpose.
You donât even use your key to open the door you're so mad, the plants inside let you in. As soon as it opens, you haul Soldier Boy by the front of his jacket through the doorway and pin him to the wall just inside.
The casserole dish lands on your counter and by some miracle doesnât break.
âWhat the hell is your problem?â Your hand is fisted in the front of his shirt, eyes blazing with anger and embarrassment.
He only grins. âYou didnât want me to play along? Sounded like that guy had been trying to get into your pants for a while. Unless he already has been or you want him to?"
You flush a deeper shade of crimson. "That is absolutely none of your business!"
âWell if weâre going to be living together doll, Iâm pretty sure it is my business.â
âWE AREN'T LIVING TOGETHER I'M JUST LETTING YOU CRASH ON THE COUCH TONIGHT AND THEN YOU'RE GONE.â You shout.
âI think youâre gonna get pretty attached to me sleeping here. Maybe even you let me sleep in your bed and even fu-â
You knock him back against the wall again. âIf you finish that sentence Iâm going to throw you out the window.â
âIf you keep knocking me around, Mike's going to think youâre into some pretty kinky stuff.â Soldier Boy smirks down at you. âItâs actually turning me on a bit. Is it turning you on?â
âI donât have to let you stay here.â You growl, releasing him.
âI think itâs because you like me.â He teases.
âI donât.â You frown grows. âOkay couch is there goodnight.â
You point in the direction of the worn leather couch. You'd hauled it up three flights of stairs with Annie when you first moved in after you found a guy online selling it for nothing. And when you showed up to get it, he presumed to say it would be free if you let him take a picture of your feet. And after, when he had a black eye and a fun story to tell his wife, he gave you the couch for nothing as promised.
âNo kiss goodnight?â Soldier Boy pouts his lips innocently.
âYou already had one of those.â You snap thinking about slapping him again and trying hard not to think about how much you wanted to kiss him again.
Get a grip.
âRight. You liked it.â
âNo I didnât. And the next time you shove your tongue into my mouth Iâll bite it off.â
âYouâre really violent for such a little thing.â Soldier Boy eyes you up and down as if sizing you up.
âAnd youâre really dick-like for someone whoâs supposed to have the wisdom of the ages.â You turn towards the hallway intent on going to bed to avoid any more conversation with him.
"Whoa." You hear Soldier Boy say as he looks into your living room.
It was the reaction that everyone had when they entered your apartment. You had a small one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a building that you believed might be older than Soldier Boy. The kitchen and living room was mostly one room, the kitchen to the left with outdated appliances and a small circular wooden table with three chairs that served as your kitchen table and desk, and was separated by the large leather aforementioned couch that faced the wall that held two large windows. Beyond the front door was a small hallway that held the only bathroom in the apartment and your bedroom.
But that's not what was surprising.
Every open space in your apartment was covered in plants. There wasn't a single piece of unused space in your apartment. There were large standing monstera and fiddle leaf figs shoved into every corner and pots of dark green pothos bolted into the walls trailing vines to the ground so that every wall looked alive. Jasmine crept along the wall behind the tv that sat on an antique credenza between the two windows, sending the bright scent into the living room.
There was a large rectangular box bolted in the space above your sink where herbs and tomatoes hung down, probably a fire hazard, but you didn't care. The vibrant smell of mint, the spicy smell of rosemary, and soft tones of oregano and basil fused the air in your apartment with a life force that was impossible to ignore.
A large apple tree grew in a pot as big around as you next to the couch, with brilliant red apples hanging from it's branches, while a lemon tree and a tangerine tree intertwined their branches just behind the kitchen table. The refrigerator, once white, was covered in the tangled vines of blackberry and raspberry, hanging with full fruit, while a potted strawberry plant sits prettily on top of the kitchen table, the bright red fruit enticing.
It was a lot. You knew it was a lot, but helping plants grow was the only thing you were good at, the only thing that felt right. One day you hoped that you could move somewhere and open a farmers market, but today you were stuck here, with Soldier Boy, who probably thought that you were crazy.
"I mean. I knew you had plant powers but this is-" He begins to say.
"A lot. I know." You roll your eyes. "The bathroom is down the hall." You gesture with your free hand towards the darkened hallway. "I guess I'll get you a pillow."
Ben is still looking around the room dumbfounded, as if he's never seen anything like this in his life, and he probably hasn't.
He's been in a Russian Lab for the past forty years, I mean he's probably not used to seeing anything this green.
You find the extra pillow in the linen closet along with one of the crocheted granny square blankets you made last year when Annie and you had a Jaws movie marathon, and a towel, before you move back into the living room.
Ben is still standing awkwardly by the couch as if he's not sure what to do, and it's the first time you've seen him look lost.
"Here." You throw him the pillow and the towel before you drape the blanket over the back of the couch. "One night."
"Why are you working for Butcher?"
"What?" The question catches you off guard. You were expecting him to make another pass at you, maybe check you out again. He was looking at you, but it was different, his gaze was softer, curious.
"You don't seem like you-" He gestures around the room. "Like you fit."
You blink for a second. "Um."
"I mean Annie used to be one of the Seven, Hughie does whatever the fuck Butcher tells him, but you you're different." His brow furrows together as if he can't figure you out.
"I really don't want to do this with you."
"This?" He looks confused again.
"Opening up with one another. You're here for one night. That's it." You force yourself to say, but the reality was you were still surprised, surprised that he actually seemed to care.
Stop. He's changing tactics because nothing else worked. He's pretending to care about you because he still wants to sleep with you.
"Please."
You can't answer for a second. It was the first time that he'd said that word in front of you before, or acted this way. It was also the first time that it had just been the two of you, before Butcher had been there or Frenchie or Annie and Hughie, but this was the first time that the two of you had been left alone.
Maybe that's why?
You hesitate before you answer, he was the last person you really wanted to open up to.
"I don't know, it's not all that bad." You shrug. "Before I didn't really use my powers all that much except like this." You gesture around the room for emphasis. "And when I went to college everyone was so serious about their futures and I didn't really like any of the classes. The only thing I enjoyed was using my powers at Please Donât Die, the plant store I work at. And then Annie asked me to come help her out-" You bite your cheek. "She's my best friend and maybe I wanted to spend more time with her."
"But is it what you really want?" He cocks his head to the side, holding the pillow in one hand and the towel in the other.
You'd never seen him look so calm before, relaxed, like being here with you was washing away any anger or frustration he still had about the past. It was confusing, and at the same time you could feel your heart beginning to betray you. It was hard not to fall for him when he looked so good, eyes soft, dark hair falling into his eyes, clothes still dripping rain on your hardwood floors.
No. I will not fall in love with him, I will not fall in love with-
"Goodnight Soldier Boy. I'll see you in the morning." You turn to go, ignoring his final question.
"You can call me Ben." He almost whispers it, the sound of his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.
"What?" You look back at him.
"You never call me Ben. But you can, if you want." He shrugs his shoulders, before he shakes his head as if he's annoyed with himself for suggesting it. "Never mind, just fucking forget about it-"
"Goodnight Ben." You feel the end of your mouth twitch up into a smile and with that you disappear into your bedroom, locking the door behind you.
And deep down you know that it's not to keep him out, but to keep you in.
As always, thank you so much for reading!
If you liked this story be sure to read my follow up fic that takes place in the future:
Open Mic Night!
Or if you'd like to read another series please try:
You Call It Madness But I Call It Love!
A/N: I know it's crazy to start another series right now, but I'm kinda feeling this reader and Ben together? What do y'all think about it?
A/N: Update I've made a huge mistake and started another series.
If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know!
(Photos for series picture from Pinterest)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy#soldier boy x you#hughie campbell#jensen ackles soldier boy#billy butcher#soldier boy/ben#jensen ackles#the boys fanfic#the boys amazon#jackles#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy fic#the boys fanfiction#annie january
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sending him a naughty pic
(cw: age gap 25/41, naughty pics, sexting, masturbating in a bathroom, mdni)
part before: listening to music in his car
In the morning, when I wake up, the first thing I do is send KĂśnig a message. And a naughty one at that. I lift my phone over my body and my shirt over my boobs, trying to get a good shot. After a few clicks of my camera, I choose one of the pictures, tits on full display, a slight smile on my face, and send it to him with the caption âearly morning thinking about youâ.
Then I get up and get myself ready to go to work. While I drink my coffee, my phone dings. Twice in quick succession.
đ thinking about you as well
And a picture of his morning wood poking out of his black boxers which has me on the floor.
God damn it, this man is going to be the end of me.
I hop into the car and shoot him a message before I drive to work.
me: you not gonna do anything about that?
The little ding of my phone while Iâm still driving sends a shiver of excitement. I pull myself together and wait to look at the message when I pull into a parking space at work.
đ about what?
Oh, heâs acting coy now. A stupid little smile forms on my lips as I make my way to my desk. Wrecking my brain what to say next.
me: well, youâre clearly happy to see me⌠if i was there iâd already have my hand wrapped around you
I press send, feeling very cheeky right now, but I try to shake the blush from my face. I check my emails, answering the most pressing ones, waiting impatiently for his answer. Ding. Ding.
đ you mean like that?
His boxers are pulled down now, his hand wrapped around his girth. My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes fixed on the picture, taking in every little detail. The black sheets underneath him, the happy trail on his lower stomach, the little vein popping out. The piercing on his tip that has me wondering how it would feel to lick over it.
me: yes just like that although⌠i couldnât resist running my tongue all over it taking you in my mouth
Oh fuck, Iâm fully sexting at work right now.
đ yeah? you sure it would even fit? texting with one hand is hard
The last message makes me chuckle.
me: we wonât know until i try⌠or maybe my hands will need to do all the work while i lick just the tip
Iâm feeling hot all over while I send the message, putting the device away like itâs burning me and trying to calm down while I stare at computer screen in front of me.
Just one Ding. I look at my phone and itâs a fucking video. I groan inwardly, looking around. Thereâs almost nobody here, but I canât risk being seen watching this on my phone. I quickly grab my headphones and head to the toilet for some more privacy, locking myself in one of the stalls, lowering the lid, using it as a seat.
He sent another message in the meantime.
đ i canât stop thinking about yesterday
Yesterday when we fucked in the back of his car. Needy and quick, almost fully clothed. So hard, the whole car was shaking.
His words make me tingle all over, while I hurriedly put my earbuds in, intently staring at the screen as I press play, anticipation halting my breath.
The black boxershorts are gone now, but I canât help notice them lying beside him on the also black sheets, before my attention gets pulled in by the - uhm - matter at hand.
His strong big hand is moving up and down his length, softer than I would have imagined. Pulling back his foreskin, lazily pumping up his dick. His thumb grazes over the exposed tip, playing with his piercing for a little bit. I want to do that as well, is the thought that floods my mind. Preferably with my tongue. A little bead of precum forms at the top, running down his length, before his fingers stroke over it.
He pulls his hand away for a moment, and I can hear him spit. I groan. Fuck. His fingers grip his cock again, coating it in his own saliva, jerking himself faster now. The grunts and heavy breaths⌠he isnât holding back at all. âFuck.â, he sighs, and hearing him, so close, makes all of this even hotter.
And it feels dirty, but I canât help it, my hand wanders down to my pants, hastily opening the button, lowering my zipper, my fingers disappearing into my panties, until they find my pussy. Fuck, Iâm so wet, holy hell. I bite my lip to stifle any moans as I push into myself, the memories of him doing that heightening the sensations⌠while I wish it was him again, touching me like this.
Knowing that he is touching himself thinking about me, thinking about what we did yesterday⌠is turning me on. His little video, with the soft moans and the grunts, isnât helping either. I press play again, his sounds right in my ear are spurring me on, my fingers frantically strumming over my clit now.
The visuals of him fucking his fist, the memories of him fucking me from the back, his hands digging into my hips, the slaps of skin against skin, our panting breaths...
And when I hear the little âFuckâ again, his voice deep and husky, I cum, pressing my lips together not to make a noise, while my fingertips still stroke over my wet folds. When it subsides, I finally dare to breathe again. This⌠was definitely something I didnât anticipate when I came to work today, but I canât keep the little dirty smile from my lips.
I snap a picture, with my fingers still buried deep inside me, so he knows I touched myself as well. Then I type out the message that has been circling my mind those last few minutes.
me: wish those were your fingers inside me instead
His answer comes quickly.
đ fucking perfect
A slight smile on my face and a little tingle down my spine Iâm still sitting on the put-down toilet lid, feeling the cold tiles against my shoulderblades. I just try to breathe calmly and get rid of the blush thatâs surely staining my cheeks, so I can go back to work.
Ding. Ding. I straighten back up in an instant, unlocking my phone, looking at the chat.
đ you made a total mess of me
A photo attached of his hand and dick, sticky with his cum, little pools of the white liquid on his abs and tummy.
me: and i would clean it all up đ
đ youâre killing me me: the french donât call it la petite mort for nothing đ donât bring the french into this
I have to cover my mouth to not fully burst out into laughter, but our little back and forth pulls me from the naughty little situation and I get out of the stall. I make my way back to my desk, my ears still burning, my cheeks bright red, and sit down on my chair, because those emails wonât answer themselves. I send him another picture of me in this state, obvious that Iâm at work and still very flustered.
me: you got me like this at work so donât ever doubt my interest in you again, big guy
đ iâm not doubting anything anymore, promise
And he has the nerve to also send me a picture of him, lying there in his bed, against his cushions. One arm holding up the phone, the other one tangled in his hair, deliciously showing off his tattooed biceps. His strong pecs peppered with dark hair. His lips are curled into a satisfied smirk and there is just the lightest blush on his cheeks, that Iâve been noticing on him after heâs just cum. And the lids are hooded a bit, his bedroom eyes gazing into the camera, the familiar mischievous spark in them. Fuck, can he stop being this dreamy?
đ so, speaking about my fingers inside you⌠can i kidnap you to my humble abode this evening?
I chuckle a little, but the message only intensifies the blush on my face, while it simultaneously makes me also type faster.
me: yes pls, i would very much like that
next part or more stuff in the Masterlist ~
thanks to @notknickers who i told about my ideas for this little chapter and they gave me even more ideas <3 to our blorbos!
#metalhead!kĂśnig#she likes the dark#kĂśnig#kĂśnig cod#kĂśnig mw2#konig#konig cod#konig mw2#kĂśnig fanfiction#cod mw2 smut#kĂśnig smut#konig smut#cod smut#kĂśnig x reader#tw: age gap
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My dad died yesterday, he was 63
I would like to share a little about him and our story if anyone wants to read, this is not a happy story
My parents divorced when I was three and I went to live with my mom so I saw my dad's life in snapshots, once a week at first and then once a year when he moved abroad and I would spend the summers with him. Every time I would catch up with him he would have a different partner or apartment.
My time with him was always fun, he was laid back, adventurous and open, he would let me do all kinds of crazy stuff while my mom was the strict one. He was a genius to me, he taught me how to program my own games when I was nine, he would make me take computers and appliances apart and reassemble them to teach me how they worked, he made me love science, the outdoors and travelling. He was great at teaching and cooking and driving. He worked on tours for famous musicians as a sound tech, he made 3D films for museums and theme parks when it was all very new, he was a photographer, a programmer, electrician, mechanic, artist and could play many instruments and write poetry!!
The first crack between us was when there was a huge split between my mom's side of the family and his over money and a lot of ugly truths stared coming to light. I realized that when it came to money he was willing to put himself before me and the fights between him and my mom were awful. But in the end once the dust settled we both pretended it never happened.
One weekend I went to visit him and realized his current girlfriend would stick around at last and she had a daughter almost my age!! I now had a little sister and I loved it.
A year later the country fell apart and he fled abroad along with them and even though I missed them I would visit for months at a time every year. I saw him start his life over, he started his own company and I was so proud of him!!
Everything was great for eight years, until one day he told me that my step mom and sister left him and he would sell everything and come back to the country. This was the last time I would ever hear of them, they vanished, I mourned my step sister for years. This was also when his life fell apart.
At 17 adulthood came with a lot of revelations. My mom told me that my dad had been an addict since he was very young, before I was born, my whole life, cocaine and alcohol amongst other things, and everyone around him had been putting up with it and helping him but couldn't take it anymore. He had cheated on her when they had me and had cheated on my step mom too. He would lie to get what he wanted and trusting him was getting increasingly harder.
All of my memories of him were now seen through a different lens. I felt betrayed. I could now tell every time he had been high, and knew where the money he asked of me when to, I was aware of every little lie. I was angry and frustrated at him for the pain he caused my mom and everyone around him. And for squandering the potential I knew he had, for always making the wrong decisions, one mistake after another. And I hated feeling this way the most.
After he came back to the country alone he could never recover, he would relapse, overdose, refuse rehab or any medical help. He would escape psychiatrics facilities and hospitals in the middle of the night, he was a menace!! lmao.
Our relationship was still good despite all this, different but still standing, he had always been my friend even if he wasn't the best at being a dad or partner, I would always scold him and tell him of different job opportunities I came up with for him to try out but now there was this distance between us. I became the parent of the relationship in a way and he didn't like being told what to do. I saw him spiral and I was scared for him.
I've always heard all these stories about addicts finding purpose and fighting for their loved ones, so every time he would jokingly talk to me about how high he was and seemed to enjoy it despite my warnings and pleading it made me feel like I was not enough of a reason to get better, as self centered as it may be I was a teen and I felt powerless to stop him, insignificant. People could get better for their children, but not for me.
I knew this way of thinking was flawed and selfish and he was the one struggling, I knew he was a victim. I spent the last of my teenage years and early twenties trying to fight back this feeling so I could preserve our relationship, we always kept in contact but over time he changed and was no longer the person I knew.
He became a stranger, often times incoherent and delusional, his views changed, he was paranoid, his addiction got worse and worse and now all I could feel was pity and guilt, our once good relationship was now reduced to a few interactions where he would ask me for money, I knew I was possibly funding his self destruction and he was likely lying to me but he also needed to pay for medication and so I couldn't refuse him.
I had my own life now, a husband and plans for the future. When I decided to move abroad a few years ago I knew our hug goodbye could be the last, he was broke and unstable but I thought once I was settled and had a job and a citizenship I could have enough money to get him tickets to visit and show him the life I had made for myself like he had done in my childhood.
But then Covid happened, and he would never agree to make calls. Soon after he was diagnosed with cancer, I would ask about his health and he would say he was fine. He wasn't fine, he was smoking 4 packs a day. He got the cancer removed but refused further treatment, he said he didn't have any purpose left in life and no reasons to keep living, he had a stroke and couldn't feel half his body when he was forcibly hospitalized, his cancer had spread and he hadn't been eating for a long time, he hid all this from me, I first heard it from my aunt in tears over the phone yesterday, he tried to escape the hospital in the night and had to be tied up and sedated, he never woke up.
He died alone, all that is left of his family is me and my aunt and we both live in different countries. There is nobody there to even bury him. I feel like I abandoned him. I've always known I would feel this way when this day came, in a way I've been mourning him for many years and have carried this guilt for even longer.
I had the coolest dad, cocaine took him away. I wish this had a better and uplifting message. I just wanted to get this off my chest. He taught me a lot and made me who I am, and I have a lot of great memories with him. He struggled all of his life with his mental health and despite it all he was still amazing and deserved so much better.
He always said that when he was a ghost he would follow me around, I hope he isl!! so I can live for both of us, I love you dad!! and I'm so sorry đŻď¸
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High Fidelity
Warnings:Â This fic will contain DUB-CON/NON-CON, Manipulative behavior, Spanking, Somnophilia. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.
[STEVE ROGERS x reader]
Summary: The captain has unwritten rules laid out, ones you blindly follow. No questions asked, only orders followed. Youâre like a loyal dog at his feet, ready to obey his every whim and command; only that you donât realize how close your collar is to strangulation, and you're terrified that you wonât learn your lesson even when it snaps your neck.
NOTE: I suppose this could be my kinktober fic! Happy Autumn. Reblogs and comments are really appreciated, this is tumblr after all. I hope you enjoy!.
DIVIDERS: @writeyourmindaway l BANNERS: @vase-of-lilies
*
You look out of the window as the sun shines through, lightening up the break room. The slight bitterness of the last remains of your coffee mellow on your tongue as you start preparing it for the others. You make his at the end to ensure that it remains warm until he drinks it. An Americano, with three cubes of sugar. Just the way he likes it; you can only hope that heâs appeased by your attempts, even if itâs not much.
You walk back to the conference room, one hand balancing the coffee and the other carrying a few files Pepper needs. Your life as Pepperâs assistant involves having to clean up everything for her as well as for Tony. Well, more for Tony than Pepper.
As you walk through the corridor, you hear the regular good morning charades. You smile and nod too tired to say anything as your eyes beg you to get some sleep. Tonyâs plethora of mishaps as of recently has only increased your work load. This boy leaves around more paperwork than Pepper can handle.
While work can be strenuous at times, youâre extremely grateful for what you have. Who wouldnât want to work for Stark Internationals and⌠you got to meet him, talk to him, get to know him, and you wouldnât trade it for anything in the world.
âAhh, there she is; we were wondering where our coffee monkey is.â You hear Tony chime.
âWhat he means is, good morning, Y/N.â Pepper snorts.
âMorning Pepper, Tony, everybody. Pepper, the files you needed.â
âOh, thank you!.â
Most of them flock around you to get their hands on the coffee, but Sam and Tony beat them to it, like indecent children. The only ones with a little decency are Pepper, Nat, Bucky, and, of course, Steve.
You walk over to Nat and Bucky after you give Pepper hers. Both utter a small thank you as you give them theirs. You slowly turn around and place Steveâs cup near him on the table. He barely acknowledges you, his eyes concentrated on the file in his hand. Youâve always admired that; his ability to never get distracted from what he deems importantâyou could only wish to have such discipline.
You bask in his scent for a few seconds and immediately leave. You hope nobody caught you staring; you tend to do that a lot. If they knew, theyâd make fun of you for being such a love-sick fool.
You finish entering all of last week's finances when you see him approach you. You avert your eyes immediately; to avoid too much eye contact is something he insists upon. You stare at your computer as you type in a few more numbers.
He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, a file in his hand.
âHello captain.â
âPepper wanted to return this to you.â He says as he extends the file to you.
âOh yes, Iâll need this for...,â you stop as you realise heâs barely listening. You see him look around to make sure no one is nearby as he turns to you.
âYou didnât stop by yesterday.â His tone was laced with disappointment.
âI⌠I didnât leave office until late, and I had to come back early; there was a lot of work left.â You wait for him to say something but soon realise heâs not going to. His face is as clam as ever, yet his eyes seem to be throwing a reproachful look at you.
âYouâd just arrived from a mission too; I assumed you might be tired.â
"Yeah, I was; donât you think thatâs when I need you the most?â He whispers.
âIâm sorry, you never said anything, and Iâ
âDo I have to? After all this time.â You feel your heart clench at his accusation.
âIâm sorry, Steve.â
He stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel yourself shrink at his presence.
âI should leave; youâre not the only one with work here.â Before you could say anything, heâs gone, only the echo of his footsteps left behind.
The whole day passes by uneventfully, and Steveâs words stung. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but your mind seemed inclined to relive your conversation from the morning. You really hadnât meant to upset him.
At about nine, you receive a text from Steve.
âStop by tonight.â
Simple and direct your conversations never went past that. You still have some more work left, but you donât want to upset him any further, so you pack your stuff and decide to head to his room.
You wish that Steve would come over to your place instead; having to sneak around like this can be really difficult at times. If it were your place, thereâs nothing to worry aboutânobody to catch you. But now... does he not think of these things?, you wonder.
Youâre not particularly afraid of the others finding out, considering Pepper and Tony have themselves breached the professionalism code of conduct. Nat and Bruce are on their way to; thereâs nothing new about finding love at the workplace, right?
Youâre more worried about how heâs going to react when people find out; you really didnât want to deal with the burn of something you could have avoided.
As you turn around the right corner, your heart jumps out of your body as your eyes meet a pair of questioning blue ones.
âWhy havenât you left yet; isnât it late?â Bucky enquires; he seems to have changed into his workout attire, his hands warped in bandages. Who works out at this hour? You ponder. He seems to have read your mind through your face as he answers, saving you the trouble.
âCouldnât sleep; thought Iâd punch some of the energy out.â
âSo, why are you still here?â
âUhh work, there were a lot of emails and I lost track of time.â He gives you an understanding nod. His mouth slightly parts to say something but then thinks better of it. You move around to pass through, when he suddenly says, âIâll walk you out.â
âOh, itâs ok. I wouldnât want to ruin your workout.â
âYou wonât. Iâll walk you to your car and then head to the gym.â
âReally I â But, before you can finish, he turns back towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors swing open, and he steps inside, leaving you no choice but to follow.
Bucky leans onto the side, pressing himself to the cool glass walls as you stand rigid on the opposite side. You donât think youâve ever been alone with him before or this close to him. Now that you notice it, heâs built quite a lot like Steve, although Steve might be a tad bit taller or it could just be the hair.
You quickly avert your eyes as he catches you staring at him. He clears his throat as he says, âYou really shouldnât be working so late, Y/N; itâs not healthy, you know.â
âOverworking will only make things more difficult in the future; Pepper wouldnât want that for her favourite employee.â
You chuckle at that, âIâm not Pepper's favourite employee.â
âOf course you are; she couldnât manage a day without you. Sheâs always praising you.â
âReally?â
âYeah, plus we like having our morning coffee, and youâre the only one whoâs kind enough to get it for us.â
âOh, itâs nothing, really.â You smile back.
âStill, thank you. We really appreciate it.â He says, a slight smile warming up his face.
The lift arrives at the parking lot, and you get out of it into the well-lit space. The cluster of cars overwhelming you as you look around in search of yours, lost in the myriad of similar-looking vehicles.
âWell⌠Thank you for acknowledging it, Mr. Barnâ
âBucky.â He cuts you to it, his voice carrying a timber of shyness.
âBucky.â Your whisper back, happy at the aspect of knowing that after all, maybe the supersoldier doesnât despise you. You donât know why you ever worried about that; your communication with each other might have been limited, but he was never anything but kind and respectful.
You say your final good-byes and walk towards your vehicle. You open it and get inside, fumbling with your key, hoping that he would leave soon. You did not want to actually leave the building for the pretence of it.
You turn your key around, the car engine roaring at you. You look over ahead to see Bucky turning around to ride up the elevator again. You decide to stay put for some more time. You donât want to ride the elevator just yet. What if he hasnât left?
If you get caught again, you have no excuses left. So you stay put for a good 40 minutes before you make your way up. Buckyâs bound to be in the gym by now.
You slowly sneak towards his room, heels in your hand, to avoid the loud tenor of its click-clacking. You arrive at his front door and repeat the pattern twice. A knock-pause, followed by two rapid knocks. Youâre received by silence, and you grow a little uneasy. What if someone shows up? What will you say? Was he really that mad?
You repeat the knock again and pause for a few seconds. The door swings open, and your breath hitchâs at the sight in front of you. He has a towel wrapped around his hip, his hair wet as the droplets still cling on to him. His face and body; glistening. Thereâs a frown etched between his eyebrows as he stares at you.
âYouâre late.â
âI wasâbefore you can finish, his hand extends to latch on to your belt as he pulls you in. He shuts the door close as he presses you against it; you feel your entire face heat up. Youâve seen him naked so many times, yet you canât help but ogle at him and admire him every time you see him.
Every time he needs you, thereâs a bloom in your heart that radiates through your whole body. One that just wants him near you, on you, inside you. And you just want to be there for him whenever, wherever, however he wants you to be.
He gives you a questioning gaze as you mumble. âBucky kinda noticed that I hadnât left yet, so I had to play around a little.â His frown still remains as you let out a âSorry.â His hand moves around you to lock the door, the sound of it synchronising with a beat of your heart. His hand moves to rest on your lower back; it curves around you and pushes you towards him. Your breasts press tightly against his chest as he traps you between him and the door. He presses his mouth on to yours as he kisses you; it's messy, all teeth and tongue. His desperation seeps through you as you feel yourself get wet.
You feel his hard length against your core as he presses his hip to yours. You let out a loud moan, your head leans back onto the door as you attempt to take in shallow breaths. He moves his face ever so slightly to look at you as he moves his hips back and thrusts into you with a force that knocks the wind out of you. You gasp at that as he adorns a devious smirk.
His hand travels down your thigh, he lifts it up and hooks it around his hip, spreading you apart as he nestles in between you.
âBeen thinking about this pretty cunt, the whole time I was away.â He whispers into your mouth. One of his hands travels under you skirt as he cups your core, his fingers maneuver around your underwear as he plays around with you.
âWell somebodyâs excited.â He sighs out, hot breath fanning your face.
âOn the bed, ass up, right now.â He sternly recites. Your body immediately moves on its own, pealing your clothes off of yourself. Anticipation overwhelming you as you lay down, just like he told you to. You can hear him pumping himself with the hand that was covered in your slick just a moment ago.
He climbs onto the bed behind you as his hands move to grope your ass. With a smooth clean thrust he slides himself inside you. He lets out a moan as you feel yourself clench around him. His right hand rear back and as he smacks you, you feel the sting pass through your entire body.
You bite your lips and start counting; you havenât forgotten, the last time he made sure you wonât. ââŚ3,4,5,6,â you feel hot tears well up you eyes, ââŚ8,9.â His left arm gropes your titts and moves forward to your neck, he squeezes it as he yanks you back.
Your back collides with his chest and he increases his pace, thrusting into you. Your knees are falling apart and the only thing that makes sure you stay upright are his hands. Your own hand maneuvers back to play with his hair, you ruffle your fingers through the short strands and slowly scratch his head. His eyes shut close as his breath falters and his thrusts start to get sloppier. You press yourself even closer to him as you tilt your head sideways. You lean forward and place a light peck on his lips. He opens his eyes as his grip on you tightens at that, youâre sure that itâll bruise by tomorrow morning.
He moves your upper body around uncomfortably so as his lips find yours. He growls into the kiss as he twists your body, youâre almost afraid that youâll snap like a twig, but you felt reassurance course through you when you realize its him. You wouldnât mind if itâs him but you also know that nothing would happen because itâs him; he would never hurt you, he would never hurt anybody. He is Captain America after all.
You feel yourself close and you cling on to him desperately. âSir⌠sir, Iâm cloâ
âHush, hush let go⌠just let go, Iâve got you.â You come apart around him as you clench him tighter and he closely follows you.
You fall on to the bed as exhaustion overcomes you. You can hear his soft, shallow breaths behind you as you close your eyes and focus on it. You feel him shift as he gets out of bed and leaves the room; he comes back a minute later carrying a bottle with him. His eyes are on you as you turn around to sit upright.
âWater?â he asks, his hand extended, his gaze never leaving you.
âYes, please!â You timidly reply, your eyes finding the ground. You greedily drink up; youâd been parched, and you hadnât even realised it.
He moves around to his bedside table and fiddles with the clock. With your thirst now quenched, you feel the soreness ripple through your body. Youâre ready to drop right now; you donât even want to think about the pile of work youâll have to deal with in the morning. Some sleep would do you good, yet you know youâre not going to get any, simply by the way he stares at you. Heâs waiting to rip that bottle out of your hands.
The minute you give him the bottle back, heâs on you. His entire weight pressed onto your aching body, his thrusts sending you to oblivion as he takes you over and over throughout the night.
You jump up as the alarm rings through your brain, the blaring noise annoying your ear just as its bright red numbers annoy your eyes. You absentmindedly notice that it's 4:00 am. You donât have to turn around to know that heâs gone; the lack of warmth already suggests that. Not that you ever got a semblance of the next morning; youâre never privy to seeing his beautiful sleep-ridden form in the morning.
Heâs always been punctual about his morning runs; they werenât going to change for your sake. You pick up your clothesâthe ones youâd scattered around, the ones heâs picked up and placed on his chairâand get dressed as you brace yourself for the day to come. At least heâs not far away on a mission; at least you donât have to worry about how heâs doing, where heâs gone, or when heâll come back, and you most definitely donât have to worry about Tonyâs inquisitive gazes as to why his assistantâs secretary would care about Steve Rogers.
The last time you chalked it up as concern for the team and worry about the authenticity of the Intel, but you wonât get such chances anymore, so you learn to apply patience into your daily regime. At least now you can take comfort in small glances and the echo of his voice; it fills your heart with a kind of warmth that you donât think you can explain. Yet you know it; you recognise it. It blooms within you every time you see those baby blues.
Tonyâs meetings have always brought a frown upon Steveâs brows; that wouldnât surprise you, however the way he gazes at you does. It never lingers for more than a second, but now... you feel his gaze burn through you. You focus your attention on the second pair of eyes that have been longing for it as you hand over the cup of espresso to him.
âThanks doll.â Bucky whispers back a nonchalant remark.
Steveâs eyes flick on to Bucky and then back to you. For a split second, his face hardens, but it immediately reverts back. His attention now back on the monitor in front of him.
âHey, Steve, this is important, you know? It would be great if you were paying attention to what Iâm saying instead of laser-eyeing my coffee monkey.â Tony quips.
All eyes are now on you, yet his remains stoned towards Tony. He gives him an unimpressed shrug, âYou do have my attention, Tony.â
âWait a sec, she gets everyone coffee, so why is she your coffee monkey?â Natasha asks, an eyebrow raised in your direction, âShouldnât she be our coffee monkey?â she smirks.
âWell, Nat,â Tony replies, âitâs my coffee, and she works for me, so...â
âFirst and foremost, sheâs my assistant; second of all, sheâs doing you guys a favor. She doesnât have to do this. Now please stop hogging her and let her work.â Pepper tones suggest humour and a slight disappointed nod at Tony.
âYeah, well, you work for me, Pepp, so technically everythingâs mine.â
Tony squeaks out as the room breaks into smiles and low hollers. The attention is back on Tony now; you use this opportunity to escape. As you leave, you turn back slightly to look at Steve. Only to be met with his back towards you.
Once again, you leave work late. The workload these past few days has made taking care of yourself impossible. As you walk towards home, you mentally plan on what you should do to relax. Tomorrow is a Sunday, and you really want to spend some time for yourself. You turn around as you head in the direction of your apartment building and are momentarily surprised to find Steve perched up on his motorcycle.
He looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. Even a simple gaze from him brings a shiver down your spine. He walks into the building, and you quietly follow behind him. A part of you feels guilty for not lending him a key, but he never asked, and you didnât want to seem overbearing. He moves towards the corner of the lift as you enter right behind him.
Even though it is quite late into the night, the overflow of people moving about was no less. You move over to the right to create space for the incoming group of people. An unbothered shove from the person in front of you pushes you back. Your body slightly leans towards him, his chest pressed to your back as his hands land on your hip, pulling you closer. You feel him hard against your ass, and you heave a shuttered breath.
While Steve has always been handsy, he never acted out in public. Although no one here recognised him, nor were there any cameras in the liftâunlike the all-seeing eyes of the stark towerâit still doesnât help calm your nerves.
Your floor arrives shortly, and you weed your way out; however, you donât see him behind you. You presume heâll get out on another floor and descend the stairs. You slowly walk towards your apartment and unlock the door. You enter and switch on the lampshade in the hall, the low yellow colour dancing through the entire room.
You hear his heavy footsteps as you place your bag on the table. He enters and closes the door; his figure leans on to it as he lingers there for a few seconds, gazing at you.
Before you know it he moves forward in lightening speed. His hands find your body as he lifts you off of the ground. You wrap your legs around his hips as he hungrily kisses you. His right hand lands on your ass and he gropes a handful as his other hand squeezes the nape of your neck. You revel in the pleasure and slight pain he provides and you lightly bite his lips.
He places your body atop the table as he moves to nip at your neck. His hand rides up your thigh as he slowly drags your panties down. You hike your skirt up in an attempt to help him as your lips desperately try to latch itself on to his again.
He kisses you a few more times in an attempt to placate you before his arm pushes your upper body onto the table. He slightly bends his knees and leans over to lower his head in between your thighs.
His heated breath dances against your slick core, as he swipes his tongue over your folds. He laps from you hungrily as his hands tighten on your thigh; adjusting them.
âPlease Steve.â You receive a slight bite on the inside of your thigh at that; a reminder.
âCaptain. Sir, Please.â You moan a whimper out.
âUse your words sweetheart, what do you want?â
âI want you.â
âYeah? What do you want me to do?â
âI want you to make me feel good.â
âAtta girl.â He whispers.
His tongue slightly licks your clit before sucking on it. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as you move your hands over to run through his short Blond strands, you slowly massage his head and he pushes his face further into you.
You can barely handle it anymore as you let yourself go with a muffled scream and you nearly see stars around you. He moves his hand to the back of your hip as he stands straight and you know youâre not done for the day.
Itâs been nearly three weeks, and he hasnât said a word to you. Your lack of communication wasnât anything new. But he hasnât  come to you even once, and you know heâs here and not away on a mission; youâd seen him at the tower chatting away with almost anybody but you.
Sometimes youâd encounter the supersoldier pair in passing, Bucky was the only one who would stop by to greet you; your Blond-haired nightly companion would simply walk past you. Youâre unsure if itâs his usual impassiveness or if you did something wrong again.
It could be really difficult when it came to Steve; he had high expectations but was never precise about what he wanted. A part of you loved it when you could figure it out on your own without him having to spell it out for you. But sometimes you couldnât understand what it is that he wants. It angers and terrifies you; thatâs when the dread settles in. You donât want to admit it or acknowledge it even,though a small part of you is terrified of being discarded away.
By the fourth week, you finally found the courage to talk to him, only to find out that heâs been gone for about three days now. A part of you felt guilty that you hadnât talked to him earlier, but another part of you knows that it was the better decision to make.
The days flit through in a gloom as you realise how disheartening expectation can be. The only positive side to your loneliness and boredom was the better sleep schedule you managed to incorporate into your routine. The depths of sleep now welcome you without much hesitation.Â
You donât really perceive the feeling of your bed dipping at the weight of another. Not even the feather-like touch of fingers skimming over your body. Sleep lulls you into a pleasant dreamscape; not even at the slight intrusion that your body felt could your mind understand anything.
It wasnât until you felt his cock plunged into you that you truly registered what was happening. Your mind had just been in the cradle of sleep, and it felt like you had been snatched out of it. Your body felt trapped between the bed and the weight of the body pressed on top of you. The weight of it was the only thing you could focus on until the sting of him stretching you out coursed through your body.
You could hardly breathe; fear surges through you as your heartbeat increases. Your brain felt like it was on fire due to the sudden change your body felt.
The room was veiled in darkness except for the small shine of moonlight. Your eyes hadnât been able to register to it in the beginning, but now they had become accustomed to it. You couldnât decide if the sight in front of you put you at ease or if it alarmed you further.
It was the same blue eyes that youâd always longed to gaze at, the same glittery Blond hair that you long to touch, the same sharp nose, and the same clenched jaw. Except there was something in his eyes that terrified you, along with the dirt and blood that covered his face; his lip nearly torn apart. It almost felt like it wasnât him, and your heart both feared and ached for him.
With a little more clarity now you notice the brushing of the sharp clothes against yours. He was still wearing his tactical suit; thisâ a first. Now that you think of it, you donât ever remember him coming to you while wearing it; heâd never been desperate enough. You were a part of his leisure, not a need. Your hand moves to feel the shape and pattern with a sense of wonder.
He leans down to kiss you, the copper taste of his blood stinging your tongue. He bites on to your lip making you yelp; sure that now youâve started to bleed too.
âAhh steâ Steve, slowâ slow down please.â You beg.
His hand moves to wrap itself around your throat as he slightly tightens his fingers around it. His pace not differing at the slightest. In fact, you're sure heâs slightly increased his pace.
âTalk to me... whatâs wrong?â Your right arm moves up to hold his face as your thumb gets imprinted with his sweat and blood.
His gaze that had been on your lips this entire time, now flickers to your eyes as his pace slows a tiny bit.
âJust go to sleep.â The gravel of his voice a slight whisper.
Youâre exhausted by him, and his voice lulls you even more; you feel the ceiling slowly blur. Your body moving along with the rhythm of the bed as you slowly fall asleep again.
A surprise party for Pepper's birthday would involve the utmost amount of planning done solely by you and the credit taken away by Tony. But the warm smile lingering on the strawberry Blond's face makes it all worth it.
The humdrum within the Stark tower makes you gleam inwardly; the initial stress and discomfort from the morning washed away. In fact, you had completely forgotten about him. The excitement of the party overtaking youâit felt so nice to see everybody like this. At ease in their own skin, today they were no different from any other office member celebrating a colleague's birthday, albeit a slight difference in luxury.
The long-haired brunet walks over to the quieter side of the party where you reside. You notice him walking over and slice a piece of the cake and extend it to him.
âItâs a real nice party you pulled off in such little time, Y/N.â
âWhatever do you mean?, this is all Tony." You say, a light gist in your voice.
âOh please, everyone knows this is your work; pretty sure Pepper does too.â
âTony was away with us on the mission; he wouldnât be able to pull this off.â
âWell, I think you underestimate him, Bucky.â
âNo, they underestimate you,â he sighs, anticipation brewing within. If you didnât know any better, youâd think he was nervous.
âDo you like the cake? Itâs got a complicated name, but Iâm pretty sure it's got plum in it; I know you like it.â
His eyes light up just a tad bit as the corners of his mouth slightly turn up.
He chuckles again, âYouâre supposed to get Pepper a cake of her choice, not what I like.â
âEveryone likes plum!. Anyway, I had to buy multiple cakes; sneaking this in was easy.â
âThank you. Itâs really gooâ a thud on his back nearly chokes him as Sam comes up from behind, eager to receive his share of the sugary dessert. As you cut the slice for him, their regular jab of bickering continues. Sam says something in an almost teasing tone as Bucky tries to strangle him with his eyes. You like this version of them much more.
You slightly tap your feet as you gaze at the room youâre most familiar with. He hadnât spoken to you the whole day, but his piercing gaze could not be shaken off of you. You recall the previous night's events; youâre unsure what to make of it. You simply couldnât leave, at least not without hearing his voice.
âWhat are you doing here?â His voice startles you out of your thoughts.
âI- wanted to talk to you⌠about last niâ
âOh, so now you wanna talk?â
âYou seemed content with the company of others the whole day.â The harshness of his tone surprises you.
âWhat, Steve, what are you-?
âI believe itâs cap for you. Since when did you two get this close?â he says a finger pointed towards you.
âwho?â
âDonât act like a fool, Y/N; I see the way you look at him; act around him.â
âWho!?â
âBucky.â He barks back.
âAre you trying to fuck him? Bored of me? Is that what this is about?â
The crassness of his words shocked you. You feel a lump form in your throat as your eyes sting.
âNo, no...â you can barely form any words as tears start brimming up, your palms brush against your eyes harshly as to try to stop the free fall.
He sighs at that, his voice now a whisper, âWhy are you crying?â
âIâm not. Iâmâ sorryâŚâ you coarsely whisper.
He sighs again and moves over to sit on the bed, a hand extending to latch on to your dress. He pulls you with it, your slight resistance casually ignored. His grip becomes stronger as he pulls you onto his lap, his hand tight around your waist.
He simply gazes at you, and you start crying all over again, âI donât knowâI just donât know what I did to make you feel that way. I neverâyou sob words stuck in your throat.
He tilts up your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at him. He leans forward to kiss you. The hand around your waist forcing you to straddle him as the other latches on to your hair. You try to stop, to get a word out but he uses this opportunity to shove his tongue in. The force of him making you relent.
âSteve, Iâ
The sudden swing of the door startles you just as your presence startles your visitor. He averts his eyes in shock, but his eyes move back to look at you, an ache painted upon them as he looks at your dishevelled hair and messy form.
âHey, Buck. Need something?â Steve asks, his face slightly turned backwards.
Buckyâs eyes finally reside on the other man in the room, snapping him out of his trance.
âUh⌠yeah. no- No, itâs ok.â He rambles as he moves back and closes the door.
You feel a sudden sense of shame course through you, and you move to get off of him. Only to have him shift you as he pins you under him.
âDonât worry, he wonât tell anyone. Itâll be fine.â He says in between kisses. His hand toying with your dress.
Of course; youâre still his secret, one that heâs unwilling to share. But itâs ok. For him, youâll do just about anything, as he would for you.
His insatiability and your incredulity, twisting around and consuming you into a single burning fire.
*
#dark!fic#x reader fic#dark!steve rogers#dark!steve x reader#x reader#steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#marvel fanfiction#steve rogers fic#dark!fanfiction
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welcome home, cheater | jackie taylor x reader
oh, hi! well, sorry for promising I was going to post something yesterday but ending up not doing it. I was trying to take some time out of the computer and trying to organize my creativity. so, this is what I could manage to post after a day off. hope it's fine. enjoy! sorry if it's too short, it was actually based on a youtube video I saw a long time ago and I couldn't remember all the details in it. hope you enjoyed it anyway. thanks for all the support, and the rebloggs, and the likes, and the following!
enjoy!
sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!
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welcome home, cheater | jackie taylor x reader
-> prompt: after an embarrassing situation at the mall, jackie has a jealous crisis. <-
warnings: non cannon, no crash, most fem!reader but it works for gender neutral readers too, jealous!jackie, jackie being a girlfaillure, 1996 timeline, mentions of randy walsh, plot twist.
***
She had spent the entire trip back in silence.
It had become an awkward silence in the car and you couldn't help but look at her and make sure everything was okay in the passenger seat, but Jackie hadn't said a word since you left the mall and she hadn't said anything when you were driving home either.
Her parents were on a business trip, and as two teenage girlfriends who did everything in secret, you were taking advantage of those days to be together. But suddenly, everything had become a confusing mess.
Opening and closing the car door with force, Jackie grabbed the bags of clothes that were hers and set off into the house in a hurry, before you could even park the car properly in the Taylor's huge garage.
Picking up your purchases and following her into the house, you threw them on the couch and promised that you would organize it after finding out what was wrong. As you imagined, Jackie had locked herself in her room and was probably listening to loud music on that damn Walkman you had given her for her last birthday.
In fact, if you had known that it would be the cause of all your ruin, you would have thought twice when you saw him in the store window begging to be taken home.
Knocking on the door three times just to be sure, you kept your voice low, hoping she would hear you anyway, over the loud music.
"Jax, can we just talk for a minute?"
There was no response. And instead of insisting, you just pulled the handle, not at all impressed that the door wasn't locked.
"Jackie, I'm serious. What did I do? Could you please talk to me for a second and sort things out?"
She looked at you, clearly listening to you, and with a sigh, she took the Walkman from her ears and threw it back hard, those huge eyes staring into your face. Like a stubborn child, she crossed her arms and sighed again.
âI think I should be the one asking that question,â she whispered, her voice a little firmer than you were usually expecting. Generally, while you had a calmer and more relaxed posture, Jackie was always excited, always outgoing, always talking loudly, as if she was always filled with sugar all over her body.
You frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"
"What did I do wrong, (Y\N)? What did I do wrong for you to leave me so easily, and right in front of my face, for Randy Walsh? What's different about him?â
Once again, you frowned, looking at her. "Jax, I don't get it. What the hell are you talking about?"
She huffed, returned to her normal expression and, with a roll of her eyes, leaned against the headboard. That was the signal she used for you to start a cuddle session on ordinary days, but now, you didn't know if you should join her.
So you just sat on the edge of the bed, still with your eyes fixed on her. "Is there something wrong? You can tell me, I promise I won't explode. You know I hate it when we fight, Jackie."
"You. Randy Walsh. At the video game store. Small talk. That pissed me off."
She explained, in pauses, now avoiding looking at you. Relaxing your expression, you gave an incredulous smile, but waited for her to continue, just to prove your point, and not to interrupt her in the middle of her justification.
"And what's worse, you left me waiting for hours in front of that stupid ice cream shop with my stupid raspberry cone in my hand, with my stupid shopping bags in my hand. Not hours, butâŚ", she counted on her fingers, like if she was trying to remember. "... fifteen minutes, approximately."
You laughed again, scratching the back of your head. And she continued rambling.
"And you two were giggling, and you looked like a fool in love. I wouldn't care if it was a girl or a nice guy, I swear, but Randy Walsh! It's unacceptable, (Y\N)! How many times have you bumped into each other? through the school hallways? Once? Half a minute?â
You looked at her. "Look, love, listen⌠You got it all wrong."
"And I know I'm freaking out like it's a nightmare, like it's the worst thing I've ever seen in my life - and it really is, but whatever -. It's just⌠what would you expect me to do? I swear, it made me want to take your car, go home and leave you there alone, just to welcome you with a fucking sign stuck in the living room saying "welcome home, cheater"⌠But of course I didn't do that, I'm freaking out like it's the worst thing I've ever seen in my life, (Y\N), do you happen to realize what you fucking did? Randy Walsh, really? Are you fucking kidding me?"
You laughed again. "Jackie, please let me explain."
"Ah, now you want to explain? Well, go ahead. Explain yourself."
You sighed, looking at her and thinking exactly how you were going to put each thing into words, regretting it soon after, but knowing that you should move on. Looking straight into her eyes, you decided to start slowly, as you should.
"Do you remember the last day we went shopping? The day we spent at the new game store that opened on floor three and you saw that Nintendo 64 and your eyes lit up? SoâŚ", you bit your lip, nervously. "That day when you saw me talking to Randy for the first time, after coming back from practice, I was just trying to see if I could buy one cheaper, since he works at the game store in the other mall and I didn't have money specifically for the Nintendo from that store⌠And he promised me that he would try to ask his boss for an order, and that he would give me answers laterâŚ"
She widened her eyes, following you speaking as if it were the most important thing in the world, and from her reactions, you realized that you had made a mistake, and you realized that she also knew that she had made a mistake in judging you so early.
"Today, we were just passing by the aisle at Randy's game store, so I thought I would try to see if he had gotten the Nintendo yet⌠He told me yes, that it was on order and should arrive in a few days. And that made me extremely happy, Jackie, because⌠because it was my gift to you and because it was⌠well, it was your surprise birthday present."
With another bite on your lip, you laughed softly as you avoided looking at your girlfriend, who had her eyes even wider and her mouth open.
"That-? What-? How-? Oh, my God, babe⌠IâŚ"
You nodded, laughing again.
"I screwed up, didn't I? I got it wrong and screwed up-"
"No, it's okay, I also overreacted, I should have told you⌠not told you, but at least given signs."
Jackie pouted regretfully and opened her arms. You fit into them well and breathed in her strawberry scent while ruffling those still wet hair. She whimpered a few times and hid her face in your neck, embarrassed. Her cheeks were too red, almost rosy.
"Shit, I'm so sorry, love. I didn't mean to ruin the surprise," she whispered. "It's just that seeing you and Randy together, I thought-"
"It's okay, Jax, I said it's okay. It was half my fault anywayâŚ"
You shrugged and lifted her face to kiss her slowly. It started with a peck and then turned into a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer. When you pulled away from her, you whispered, touching the white blouse with butterflies sewn on the chest, looking down.
"Listen, I told you that I want to be clear about my feelings, and that I want to make us work, so⌠if I were cheating on you, which obviously I'm not, I would probably tell you. There's no reason I hide this from you, Jackie. Not even out of shame." You touched her lips with your fingers. "I love you. I wouldn't trade you for anything in this world. I swear to all that is sacred. You are the most incredible girl I have ever met and you are the woman of my life, I have never been so sure of that as I am now. "
She sighed and smiled, making another pout that you couldn't resist kissing, laughing softly and taking a moment to pull away from her.
"Besides, Randy Walsh isn't my type, and I'm not his type eitherâŚ", you laughed again. "And when I say that, I mean it literallyâŚ"
Jackie frowned, her clear eyes emanating curiosity. "What you mean?"
âJackieâŚâ you shrugged, scratching your forehead. "He is gay."
#yellowjackets#lgbt#yellowjackets x reader#romance#jackie taylor#jackie taylor x reader#ella purnell x reader#jackie being a girlfaillure is such a loving thing to me#why this could be a thing she would do in the cannon?#honestly i want to write more jackie rn#send help
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Sick Day
Summary: You were working on something late and woke up the next day with a cold. Jisung stays home from work to get you whatever you want and keeps you company.
Notes: Male Reader, Caring for sick reader, Jisung is an... interesting cook, Jisung has glasses
Wordcount: 1.1k
"Babe, come to bed. It's getting late already." Jisung stood in your office doorway, in his pajamas with his shirt lifted slightly to scratch his stomach. Normally, you would've listened to him and turned off your computer. Tonight was the deadline, and you'd been dragging your feet for almost a week on how to wrap on your project on time.
"In another minute. Go ahead and get the bed warm, I'll catch up. I think I've almost got this part finished," You mumbled as you stared at the screen.
Jisung shuffled to bed, leaving you alone to finish what you'd started.
When you finished checking all your formats, dotted all your i's, and sent in your project, you breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Finally. It was done. You shut the computer off, dragged yourself to bed, and curled up next to your boyfriend who'd already difted off to sleep. Thankfully, you didn't have to go in tomorrow. So you could catch up on all your missed sleep.
In the morning, your body was so waem. You felt covered in a thin film of sweat and grossness. Your throat ran dry, head was too heavy to lift, and it hurt to even breathe. Mustering all the strength you had, you managed to roll over and look at Jisung who was starting to get ready for work.
"Good morning, Angel," He said softly. "Sorry if I woke you up."
You coughed. "Ji..."
Jisung's smile faded. "Yes? What's wrong?" He placed his hand on your cheek. "Babe, you're on fire. What happened to you?"
You tried to speak but your voice failed you.
Jisung started taking off his work clothes and putting his pajamas back on. You groaned in disapproval but your boyfriend ignored you. "I'm not going anywhere until you're better." He held you tightly in his arms, stroking your hair. "You overworked yourself again, didn't you?"
You grumbled as you pushed your face into his chest, hiding from his questions. His heartbeat was strong and calming, and the warmth from his body felt different from the warmth in yours. Before you realized it, you'd begun to fall back sleep in his arms. The next time you opened your eyes, you were alone in your bedroom. You shifted to look around the room to look for him, but he wasn't in the room anymore.
You stomach roared, begging to be sated. You hadn't eaten since yesterday, and you'd probably slept through the entire morning. Slwoly, you slid yourself to the edge of the bed and put your feet on the floor. Before you could lift yourself off the bed, Jisung came into the room.
"Y/n, stop! You shouldn't be out of bed." He lifted your feet and gently slid you back under the covers. He climed into bed beside you, laying on this arms to prop himself up. "Did you get lonely, baby?"
You nodded your head slowly, too embarrased to confessed you were looking for food.
Jisung kissed your cheeks. "Aww, my sweet boy missed me? I was only gone for a minuteâand you were still sleeping!" He nuzzled your face. "I just wanted to surprise you with lunch. Can you wait a little longer?"
You wanted to let your eyes roll back. You'd scored the perfect man, he even knew when you were hungry... You smiled and nodded as he jumped out of bed.
"It's almost ready, just another few minutes!" Jisung shouted as he ran out the room.
You lay in the bed, still and quiet. When you listened hard enough, you could hear Jisung cooking down the hall. He wasn't the best cook, and he'd make more of a mess than intended, but you knew he was trying his best. After about ten minutes, there wasn't any noise coming from the kitchen anymore. You couldn't help but feel worried... What if he'd broken something? Carefully, you slid out of bed and snuck to the door. You cracked it open to see Jisung balancing a tray of food and a drink while trying to reach for the door knob.
"B-Babe!? Again?"
You coughed. "You were really quiet all of a sudden. I thought something was wrong..." You kissed his cheek. "Let's go eat in the dining room, okay?"
"Nothing's wrong. I should be caring for you, not the other way around." Jisung pouted as he carried your meal to the dining room. He pulled out of your seat and stroked your hair as you sat down. "On the menu today, we've got chicken noodle soup and a soda!"
You giggled. "Don't you eat this anyway?"
"Not all the time!" He puffed his cheeks at you in protest, earning a soft laugh from youâwhich turned into a coughing fit. His face twitched as he stroked the back of your neck. "Just please have some. You can't get better if you don't eat." Jisung wouldn't let you lift your spoon, feeding you the entire time. Even blowing on the hot soup so it didn't burn you.
After your late lunch, Jisung guided you back to bed. He offered to carry you, but you wanted to stand on your feet for a bit. He tucked you back into bed, kissing your forehead.
"Do you need anything else?"
You looked at his sweet face, trying to be calm but you could see how the edges of his lips twitched. "Maybe my boyfriend, to keep me company?"
"If you want, I'll stay in bed with you all day." He chuckled as he kissed your lips, crawling over you as pulled the covers over him. Jisung, while keeping the kiss, wedged his hands underneath you and flipped you over him. You were gently placed on Jisung's chest as he slotted your body with his. "Now get comfy. I'm here," He said.
His warmth poured into you, encouraging you to pull him closer. Your ear to his chest, his heart beating steadily, your eyes grew heavy as you drifted off to sleep again.
When you woke up, it was completely dark outside. The clock in the corner said 5AM. You felt fine, amazing even! Your cold must've passed while you slept. meanwhile, Jisung, still in the place he was before, was knocked out as his hands rested on your waist. you tried to shift off him, but he groaned and tightened his grip. He wouldn't let you go anytime soon... With no choice, you closed your eyes and listened to Jisung's raspy breathing.
It wasn't that long before he woke up, softly coughing.
"You okay, Ji?" You touched his cheek which was warmer than earlier.
"Y-Yeah, I'm just a little warm."
You pressed your cheek against him to confirm your diagnosis. It was way too warm... "Jisung. Are you lying?"
The silence was enough of an answer.
You hit him softly. "You got sick!? I told you not to stay with me!"
"But you said I should keep you comany..."
"I was sick and crazy, you should've told me no!"
Jisung coughed. "Well, are you at least going to stay home and take care of me?"
#oracle of dreams#kpop x male reader#kpop male reader#x male reader#x reader#jisung x male reader#nct jisung#park jisung#jisung x reader#jisung park#nct fanfic#nct dream x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream jisung
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On the Horizon (1/?)
Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has. Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 2.5K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst, flirting, and asshole!Scott. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxhear @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.
Masterlist ⥠Glen Powell Character Masterlist
Itâs sweltering in the midday sun and you wipe the sweat from your brow as you surreptitiously watch Scott work beside you. He doesn't seem bothered by the heat, typing away on his computer despite the stagnant air. It makes you yearn for the cool, controlled environment of the labs you used to work in before Javi recruited you. Although he'd likely tell you this weather was perfect for a storm, you're miserable. Meteorology isnât even your specialty; youâre here for your engineering skills to manage the specialized equipment the team relies on for their data collection.
Perched on the tailgate of the Storm Par truck, you have a clear view of the other storm chasers clustering around Tyler Owens' red truck. The man in question emerges with a brilliant smile, and beside you, Scott scoffs, annoyed. He hates Tyler, and you're pretty sure the feeling is mutual.Â
"Ass," Scott mutters, returning his attention to his computer.
When you look up again, you catch Tyler watching the two of you. You know heâs more than likely looking for a chance to provoke Scott, but to your surprise, he offers you a wink and pulls down the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. Before you can react, he's turned to speak to one of the young women on his team, giving her his full attention. A hand rests casually on her shoulder.
You wish Scott would acknowledge you like that. You thought things would be different after the night you shared weeks ago, but he quickly dashed those hopes the next morning, ignoring you completely. He only seemed to look at you when he needed your tech skills or when you made a mistake. Your cheeks still burn from his last reprimand in front of the team, the sting of his criticism lingering.
Clearing your throat, Scottâs eyes briefly land on you before returning to the computer screen.Â
"What?" he demands.
"I was going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?â
"Yeah, you know what I like," he says dismissively.Â
When it's clear that's all you're getting from him, you push off the truck onto the dusty road with a soft exhale and head into the gas station. The air conditioning inside practically makes you groan with relief, and you take a moment to appreciate the cool air.Â
"You're not melting on us, are you, city girl?" You jump at the unexpected voice, surprised to see it belongs to Tyler. "MIT got you all wound up, huh?â He questions, amused.Â
"What?"
"Your boss," he clarifies.Â
"Oh, he's um...he's not my boss. Javi is."
"No?" he asks, brows raised. "Well, he certainly barks at you like he is."
Heat rushes to your face as you realize Tyler must have overheard Scott reprimand you yesterday after you miscalibrated one of the sensors.
"If you worked with my team, I'd be a lot nicer," he says.
You stare at him, unsure how to react to his comment and the suggestive tone. Before today, youâd barely spoken to him, although you get the impression that his flirtatious nature is just a normal part of his outgoing personality. Thankfully, youâre spared from having to figure out how to respond when the doorbell jingles and someone calls your name.
Itâs Scott.Â
"Owens," he bites out.Â
Your lips part in a surprised inhale as he places a hand on your shoulder and stands so close that you can feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against your arm. Tyler's gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your face with a knowing smile.Â
 "Well, I enjoyed our chat," he tells you, not bothering to acknowledge Scott. "We should do this again, sweetheart."
Once heâs gone, Scott moves to stand in front of you "What did he want?" he demands.
"Oh, nothing. Just...saying hi."
Scott tenses, and he steps into your space, cupping your elbow. "You shouldn't talk to him," he advises.
When he tilts his head to stare down at you, something flickers in his blue eyes that looks an awful lot like jealousy. You glance over your shoulder at Tyler, only to have Scott say your name again, more forcefully. Turning back, you find his intense dark blue eyes locked onto yours. For the first time since that night in the hotel room, you realize you have Scottâs full attention and that sends a thrill of excitement through you.
You bite your lip, the beginning of an idea coming together.
An opportunity arises to put your plan into motion later that night. Nearly everyone has descended on the only motel in town, but no one seems interested in staying in their rooms. Music pumps from Tylerâs red truck and another group grill burgers nearby. Alcohol is flowing freely as different teams mingle.
You spot Scott busy inside the Storm Par command van, completely absorbed in his work. From experience, you know any attempt to pull him away would be pointless, but spending time with Tyler just might. You linger at the edge of the parking lot, trying to muster the courage to approach the Tornado Wrangler crew. Theyâre sharing beers and laughing, but when you look closer you realize a lot of them are still working in some way or another. Lily has the inner workings of her drone exposed, tinkering while Dani and Tyler look like theyâre securing something to the side of his truck.
Suddenly what felt like a great idea earlier now seems silly. So does your sundress and the time you spent making yourself look nice. Any attempt to enact your plan would mean intruding on their little bubble. Besides, youâre not even sure this hairbrained idea would even work on Scott a second time.Â
You turn to head back to your room when Tyler calls out, âHey city girl, you want a beer?â
You freeze, eyes closing briefly as you realize thereâs no turning back now. Youâve been spotted. When you face him again Tyler is watching you with a casual, expectant smile. He leans against the hood of his truck with one arm draped over it.
âCome on, we donât bite,â he encourages.Â
âNot unless you ask us to,â Boone chimes in, earning a collective groan and playful slap to the back of his head from Dani.
Someone tosses you a beer, and you fumble to catch it. Itâs icy and slippery. Tyler watches you with a raised eyebrow as a slow, amused smile spreads across his face. Youâve never felt less cool in your life and you end up looking anywhere but him.Â
âHeyâŚyouâre an engineer right?â Lily calls out. âYou wanna take a look at the wing here? Sheâs giving me some trouble.â
You glance at the Storm Par van, half expecting Scott to come to scold you for even considering helping the enemy, but heâs still inside.Â
âTin Man seems pretty tied up with his work,â Tyler observes. âI think youâre safe to join us, Dorothy.â
You blink, both surprised and a bit embarrassed to realize just how obvious you must be. âUh, yeah, I can take a look,â you tell Lily.
She grins, shifting back on her heels. You follow her over to the truck to examine the drone. Lily talks you through everything sheâs already tried so far with Cairo and you ask her a few questions in return. After a bit of trial and error, you identify the issue. Thankfully it's a quick fix.Â
Boone lets out a low whistle, impressed. âYou know, if things donât pan out with the corporate overlords, I bet Ty would offer you a spot on our team.â
âIâll keep that in mind,â you reply, watching Tyler round the truck and draw closer to you.
âIâm a much nicer boss than Scout,â he promises.
âHeâs not my boss,â you remind Tyler. âAnd his name is Scott.â
âOh, I know, sweetheart,â he intones, holding your gaze with an intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but the way heâs looking at you.
You let out a nervous little chuckle, realizing that you hadnât actually planned for anything beyond capturing Tylerâs attention. Glancing down at the beer in your hands, you fiddle with the label until Tyler takes the bottle. He twists off the cap and hands it back without a word.
You offer him a quick, âthanks,â and take a sip. The lukewarm, hoppy flavor tingles on your tongue. You make a face.
âNot a beer girl?â Tyler asks, drawing back to give you a thoughtful once-over. He hums consideringly. âNo, you strike me as a rosĂŠ-all-day type.â
âActually, Iâm a whisky girl,â you lie, grinning at the surprised blink you get in response.
âI must be losing my touch,â he confesses, leaning into your space and letting you catch the faint scent of his cologne or deodorantâsomething sharp and clean like the ozone that lingers in the air after a storm. âUnless, of course, youâre just messing with me,â he continues. âBut you wouldnât do something like that, would you, city girl?â
The way he stares at you suggests that heâs not just talking about your choice of drink. Before you can stop yourself, you look over his shoulder, searching for Scott. Tyler doesnât turn to see what has your attention. He doesnât need to, you realize.
âA lesser man might take that as a blow to his ego.â His tone is teasing as he uses two fingers under your chin to gently guide your gaze back to him. âLucky for you, darlinâ, Iâm a big boy.â
A prickling warmth spreads across your body, and your jaw muscles tingle with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety. You must have been horribly transparent in your attempt, you realize.
âIâm notâŚI didnât,â you stumble over your words as Tylerâs smile grows.
âThe decent thing to do is ask,â he encourages. He cranes his neck behind him and you see Scottâs finally noticed the two of you together. âBetter make it quick, heâs on his way over here now.âÂ
âWhat?â
âYou know what,â he replies, tapping your nose.
Panic settles in, your reluctance to admit what you were trying to do warring with your desire to get Scottâs attention. âOkay, okay, fine,â you relent. âIâm trying to make Scott jealous.â
You can see Scott over Tylerâs shoulder now, his expression dark. Heâs second away from being in hearing range. âTyler. Please.â
âWell since you said the magic word.âÂ
He turns and in one smooth motion throws his arm over your shoulder to draw you in close. That seems to surprise Scott whose pace slows as he approaches. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest as you gaze up at him, acutely aware of Tylerâs body pressed firmly against your side.
âHey, Scooter,â Tyler greets. âWant a beer?â
Scottâs cheek ripples in annoyance. âNo,â he says curtly.Â
âSuit yourself.â Tyler shrugs. He grabs the bottle in your hand and takes a long drink from it before handing it back to you. âNothing better than a cold one after a day of chasing storms.â
Scottâs nostrils flare and he utters your name in a clipped tone.Â
âUh, I better go,â you tell Tyler. âThanks for the beer.â
âWell, I hope to see more of you later, sweetheart,â he replies with a wink.Â
The second youâre within reach, Scottâs hand is on your upper back and quickly moves to rest at the base of your neck. You feel a little like an errant school child with the way he guides you past the rest of Tylerâs crew, whose goodbyes are decidedly less enthusiastic than their welcome. Boone glances between you and Scott, making a face that you canât quite decipher.
âI thought you were headed to bed early,â Scott accuses as soon as youâre out of earshot of the crew. Heâs tense beside you, fingers flexing against your skin.Â
âI was but then the Wrangler crew invited me to join them for a beer.â He doesnât need to know you sought them out for your ill-conceived plan.Â
Scott scoffs, moving in front of you. He stares down at you. âYou shouldnât be wasting your time with those hillbillies.âÂ
âThey arenât so bad,â you defend until he pins you with a quelling look. You know Scott well enough by now to drop the topic, even if his words donât sit quite right with you. Tyler and his friends were nothing but kind to you tonight.
âStorm Par canât be seen spending time with those amateurs. Itâs bad for business. You should know better.â
You realize, with a sinking feeling, that heâs not jealous â heâs just angry. Heâd probably be just as upset if another member of your team was seen mingling with the so-called enemy. How could you have been stupid enough to think talking to Tyler would make him want you again?Â
âCome on,â Scott urges, seemingly intent on walking you back to your hotel room.Â
At the door, you wave the card over the keypad and shoulder the old, warped door open. Before you can turn to bid Scott a good night a hand on your hips pushes you forward and he follows you inside. The door shuts and he plucks the keycard from your hands, thoughtlessly tossing it on the bedside table.
His mouth is on yours before you can speak, his hands grabbing at the hem of your sundress. The shift in his mood is enough to disorient you and you donât resist when his tongue invades your mouth. The back of your knees hit the bed and then heâs on top of you, warm and solid. He pulls roughly at the strap of your dress, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin. When you feel his hand land on your inner thigh you push at his chest.Â
âWait, Scott,â you breathe. This feels nothing like your last time together.Â
He pulls back, a tick in his jaw as he stares down at you. âIt's been a long day,â he says, âand we both know you want this.â
You do want him, more than anything, but thereâs something about his tone and words that dredge up an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. It makes your skin prickle, and you avert your gaze, suddenly uncertain. Above you, Scott sighs, and you feel his fingertips gently touch your jaw. You think of Tyler suddenly, his teasing tone and the amusement in his green eyes. When you look back at Scott, his unreadable blue eyes meet yours.Â
The bed creaks as he shifts back. âI can just go,â he offers.
âNo, please donât.â The words escape your lips before you even realize youâve spoken. This is what you wanted, you remind yourself. Scottâs the kind of man you always dreamed about, handsome and intelligent â one of those Ivy League boys who never looked twice at you in college.Â
âGood answer,â he says with a smile.
You pull him closer, and as his lips find yours once more, the lingering discomfort fades away. Youâre finally getting what youâve wanted.
 Arenât you?
Part 2
âĄ
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đđŤđđđđ˛ đđ˘đŤđĽ - đđŽđŚđ˘ đđŹđđ đ˘đ˛đđŚđ (đđ˘đŤđ¤đ¨) đą đđĄđŽđđđ˛ đđđŚ đŤđđđđđŤ
Re-upload of an old piece I did for two collabs (chubby chasers collab by @/kyovtani & stay soft collab by @/touyaspeach). [NSFW-18+]. Minors and ageless blogs dni (I will block you)
Mirko sends you a picture of her at the gym & you get a bit self conscious. She reminds you that you'll always be her petty girl. [AO3]
The gym is eerily silent this morning. The usual buzz of people working out is replaced by the clattering of keyboard keys as the receptionist, Akira oversees the administration. Sheâs grateful for the silence but can't help but wonder why she's having such a slow start today. She stares at the empty studio,furrowing her brows she quickly dismisses her thoughts as she sifts through her emails.
Her tranquillity is soon interrupted by beeping from the revolving doors - indicating someone's just checked in. Akira looks up from her computer to see Japan's 5th hero - Mirko.
"Good morning, Mirko!" she greets excitedly.
"Sorry for the confusion but I thought you'd be in for your regular 3 o'clock session? â Akira apologises checking her profile on the system.
"Hi hun sorry it must've slipped my mind I meant to call yesterday and reschedule.I have to attend that stupid hero gala today.â Mirko sighs as she tucks her membership card in her bag.
Oh, the hero gala! that explains why anyone isn't here. Theyâre getting ready, Akira thinks.
"No problem at all, I hope you enjoy the gala!"
"Thank you hun, but it's a big waste of time. Iâd rather spend my time working and getting stronger. I mean who wants to be interviewed by people who just want to get under your skin?"
Akira acknowledges Rumi by nodding.
"Sorry you have to deal with the press being so rude. Just know us civilians appreciate you - thank you for your service"
Rumi smiles in response and slips into the studio - she appreciates the comment but truly doesn't care about what the public thinks of her.
Mirko is tough and fierce, especially to the public eye. She has a brash demeanour and laughs in the face of danger. Sheâs a hero, itâs her job to save people not to impress them.
Rumi is fit, she follows a strict exercise routine every day with no expectations - even a stupid hero gala. Although she enjoys carrots, she tries to have a balanced diet - unlike the cliche she doesn't "eat like a rabbit"
Mirko starts doing some warmup exercises - she switches between the treadmill and spin bike for a while before moving on to the calf and leg machines - these ensure she doesn't get any cramps.
Her favourite and most vigorous part of her routine included bench presses and hip thrusts. Sheâd even put some men to shame with how easily she does it.
It may look like she isn't breaking a sweat, but her heart is racing. It makes her veins feel like they're on fire and leaves her a little breathless. The only other time she feels like this is with you, her sweet y/n.
Mirko swears she doesn't have a type. Looks are not important to her but she can't help but gravitate towards chubby people. She thinks they're all so unique - just like the stretch marks that adorn their soft skin.
Society is cruel but your weight doesnât define how "attractive" or how "healthy" you are. Just like the saying: "The bigger the figure, the more I can love.â Rumi thinks knows being chubby just means there's more of you to love.
There's nothing more that Mirko loves than to pick you up, as if you weigh nothing, and look into your eyes. She's constantly teasing you - yet also reassuring you - that she can handle your weight. Her bench presses, hip thrusts and lifts are double or sometimes triple what you weigh. If only you could see yourself from her perspective. Maybe then you'd understand how stunning you are.
Rumi is only satisfied with her workout when she's drenched in sweat and her muscles ache. Before showering she snaps a picture to send to you. Her left hand is up showing off her muscles and her abs are on full display. The sweat is still trickling down her toned body and her gym outfit - that she designed - hugs her in all the right places.
She sends you the picture saying "See something you like, baby bun? đđ"
The sunlight streams through your slightly parted curtain and illuminates your shared bedroomp. Rolling over to Rumi's side of the bed you sigh at the empty space. You move the pillows and blankets aside to locate your phone. Ignoring all your other notifications you smile seeing a message from Rumi.
Opening it you try typing a reply but can't form coherent sentences. You wake up, sit at the edge of the bed and stare at the picture of your gorgeous girlfriend and simply reply with a string of emojis đđđđĽľđĽľđĽľ
The longer you stare at the picture you realise it makes you feel a bit anxious and insecure. Rumi has an athletic body and a lot of muscle. You know you shouldn't compare your body type because all bodies are good bodies but you start to feel ashamed about your physique.
You don't have toned abs - instead, you have a plump tummy. Your thighs stick together and are covered in stretch marks and cellulite. Your arms aren't muscular at all; they're a bit flabby. You have back rolls and love handles. You don't have a perfect figure with big boobs or a fat ass - you don't fit the ideal description of being "curvy.â You have body hair, which is something natural, yet society is disgusted by it.
Dating Rumi feels magical and surreal. The only difficult things were dealing with the public and your own insecure thoughts. You try not to let the comments get to you, but some are so harsh.
Things like:
"Oh, so you're a hero huh? I thought the Commission was strict about training?"
"What makes you think you're cut out to be a hero, especially with Mirko? Can you even keep up with her? Didnât think she'd be into someone bigger than herâ
â I'm pretty sure she said she doesn't need a sidekick especially not someone as useless as you"
"You're not exactly that 'graceful' why don't you pursue something else. Something more suitable for someone of your form?"
People have always doubted you. Theyâve always questioned if you were cut out to be a hero. People have made you feel so different and alienated all because of your weight. You feel the hot tears stream down your cheeks. Using the back of your hand you try to wipe them away.
As if on cue Rumi comes home and due to her acute hearing from her quirk, she hears your sobs from the front door.
She drops her bag, slams the door and sprints towards your bedroom hoping you're not in danger. She's ready to pounce on the villain - fists clenched and teeth bared- but instead sees you. She takes a moment to gather herself before calmly making her way to your crying figure.
"Hey baby bun everything is alright" she assures.
She can be so soft and caring - a real 360 from what she was moments ago. Grabbing the tissues and water bottle from the bedside table she hops on the bed and sits next to you
"N-N-No it's not" you stutter, shaking and trying to hold back tears.
Rumi shushes you as she wipes your tears away. She holds the water bottle and helps you drink as well as take deep breaths in sync with hers until you're able to calm down. She holds you against her chest - you can hear her heart racing.
"Who made my baby bun upset?" Rumi asks as her ears and voice drop in pure concern.
"Me... I made myself upset" you admit.
"It's justâŚ" you trail off avoiding eye contact
"Why do you love me? I'm not fit like you, I'm just me I'm fat -"
"HEY that's enough! âRumi cuts you off.
"I didn't mean to startle you but you're fucking perfect! â she exclaims
She feels her heart break into a million pieces. How long have you been keeping all this inside? Why haven't you told her - if someone was bothering you, they'd be dead because no one's hurting what's precious to Mirko.
Rumi has an idea, and her ears shoot up.
"Wait a minute I can show you! Come here bun" Rumi gestures for you to sit at the edge of the bed.
You don't know what she's up to but follow her regardless. She opens the closet door and you're met with the full body mirror inside.Immediately you look away and try to hide your dishevelled appearance.
"Come on my pretty girl, donât hide from me, wanna see your cute face" Rumi says, making you look in the mirror.
"You know what I see when I look into the mirror? The most gorgeous girl in the world. Youâre a cutie - a soft and cuddly one too. Being chubby doesn't mean you're greedy, ugly, or out of shape bunny. I love you just the way you are, and I'll always love you for you. Iâll do anything to make you realise that you are perfect just the way you are." Rumi says.
"You really think so" you sniffle looking up at her with teary eyes.
"Of course, baby. I mean every word! But you know what they say, actions speak louder than words. Let me show you what I love about you.â
Rumi tilts your chin up so you're looking at her.
"First off all I love all of you. Every single inch of you. Let's start from up her" Rumi kisses your forehead.
"You are so smart, talented,creative and so strong. I know your brain can be a meanie sometimes but I'm going to Lunar kick all those negative thoughts away" - the two of you giggle.
Rumi cups your face in her hands - her rough palms contrast your soft face.
"You are stunning - mesmerising actually. Your eyes - even though they're a little red now- remind me of the prettiest gemstones. Your lips are soft,sweet and so kissable" Rumi says, placing her chapped lips against yours.
"And of course, who can forget these adorable cheeks" she says while teasingly pinching and squishing them.
There are no bad intentions behind her touches or words purely love and admiration.
"Rumi I -"
"Sweetheart I'm not done yet. I want to praise all of you from head to toe." Rumi cuts you off.
"Your arms are perfect. When you hug me or cuddle me-it makes me feel like I'm at home." Rumi says hugging you.
"You know it'd be better if you're naked." Rumi mumbles pulling away from the hug.
"RUMI DON'T BE SO BLUNT!" you squeal. You feel the blood warm up your cheeks and both of you giggle again.
You hesitated at first but then realised it's just Rumi - the only person you'd leave yourself so open. The only one you will allow you to see you so bare - not only your body but your soul.
She tugs at the hem of your - her- shirt and asks if she can remove it. She does the same to your bottoms. You agreed but only if she takes hers off as well. She does and it makes you clench your thighs together.
Positioning herself on the bed and in front of the mirror she gestures for you to straddle her toned thigh.
"I can't sit there ill -"
"You'll what? Hurt me or something? Think I can't handle it? âShe chuckles.
"Come sit. Now. âshe instructs.
You know better than to keep her waiting, so you try and hover over her thigh. Only for her to grip the curve of your hips and pull you onto her.
"I said sit not hover bun. I hope you don't try to do that if I ask you to sit on my face.â Her tone is dangerously low and makes your tummy pool with heat.
"Look how good we look together," Rumi says. You can't focus - not when your soft body is pressed against her strong one. Youâre already soaked, and she hasn't even touched you yet. You can't bring yourself to look at the mirror, so you nuzzle your head into her neck.
"You're even cuter when you're squirming. Didn't know that was possible âshe teases.
As you wiggle your hips your clit catches on her muscular thigh, and you stifle back a moan. She flexes her thigh in response.
âNot yet bunâ
She holds you in place and turns you so face the mirror once again.
"Your body is perfect.Look at your boobs so what if they're not perky or even? Mine aren't either" Picking your hand up she places it on her boobs.
"And this tummy⌠where do I even begin. It's not disgusting -it helps keep you nourished. Itâs got stretch marks on it and so does mine âshe moves your hand down from her chest, along her abs and across her stretch marks.
"Rumi, you're stunning âyou whisper. She stretches her fingers over yours and pulls your hand closer so she can hold it.
"So are you, baby. I wanna take care of you.Bun there's so much I have to say. I could go on for hours talking about the reasons I love you - not only your body but your mind ,your soul but right now⌠I just want to worship your body a little â
Slipping away from you she kneels on the cool tiled floor and settles between your thighs. Youâre flustered by her comments, but your eyes follow the way she moves.
When her fluffy ears tickle you, your sweet laughter fills your shared bedroom. Rumi finally lets go of your hand with a kiss as she massages your thighs.
"So soft, pillowy, absolutely stunning" She traces her fingertips along your stretch marks. She runs her hands along the soft chub of your hips and all the way down to your calves finally settling her hands back on your thighs.You shiver at her soft touches - it makes your body feel electrified.
"Mind if I mark 'em up a little?"
"Mmh" is all you can respond with
"I need words baby. Are you in the mood for this & want me to continue?"
"Y-yes it's okay"
"Good because the only time I want to see you crying again is when it's on my strap. Got it Princess?"
(a/n-the best line I've ever wrote in my whole writing career)
Before you can respond she starts softly kissing along your inner thighs.You place your hands in her hair making sure not to grip too tight or near the base of her ears - which are extra sensitive. Rumi sucks on your soft skin and smirks when the bruises blossom on your skin.
You grind against the edge of the bed and your grip tightens on her hair. Looking down you feel a sense of pride and belonging which fades into concern.
Fuck how am I going to cover them up before the gala? you pondered.
"Eyes on the mirror pretty. Want you to watch how you fall apart for me" Rumi requested.
She smirks, spreading your plush thighs apart. You prop yourself up on a pillow and on your elbows trying to follow Rumi's order to look in the mirror.
You feel overwhelmed - mind hazy with lust and embarrassment. You don't know where to look.
"C-can I look at you instead?"
Rumi gives you a hazy smile before running her fingers along your pretty pussy. She swears she loves all of you equally, but your pussy was something else. She loves the way she has to use all her fingers to spread your folds and mound just so she can see your clit.
She adores the way you flutter and clench around nothing - you're so cute and eager. She doesn't mind whether you shave but secretly finds it hot when you let it grow. She's not letting a little hair stop her from pleasing you.
Rumi knows how to pleasure a woman - she alternates kissing along your thighs and pussy. The anticipation makes you dizzy. As she teases you, you gasp and buck your hips towards her.
She uses the tip of her tongue to swirl around your throbbing clit. She feels it pulsing on her tongue and stops to edge you for a bit before flattening it and running it along your eager slit.
She feels so good it almost hurts - you feel a dull pain almost desperate to feel something. Rumi always makes sure you're dripping before easing a finger into you. She curls her fingers upwards, and it hits your sweet spot every time and uses her other hand to spread you open so she can lap at your clit
Even though your plush thighs are muffling her ears she can still hear you.Your shared bedroom that was recently filled with sobs and giggles is now filled with lewd moans and erratic breathing
"No cumming until you tell me what I want to hear," Mirko says, slowing her movements
"Please⌠Please Please" you beg feeling a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.
"No not that⌠I want you to say you're pretty"
"m pretty" you try to say but instead it comes out in a high pitched squeal
"Say it like you mean it or you're not going to cum" Rumi demands, completely stopping her actions.
"Fuck. Mmh sorry. Iâm pretty. Iâm pretty Mmh so pretty. Mmh Mirko's pretty girl" you blabber, unsure of what you're saying all you can think about is cumming.Arching your back and trying to hump Rumiâs fingers you cry out of desperation.
"That's a good girl. You are my pretty girl, donât forget that. You can cum for me sweetheart" Rumi praises, lapping at your clit, pumping, and curling her fingers again
You feel your tummy tighten before cumming all over Rumi's fingers. Your eyes are shut, and the most angelic moans leaves your lips.
Your chest heaves and Rumi looms above you cooing about how proud she is of you. She takes a moment to appreciate your stunning body again as she licks her fingers.
"You think you can give one more pretty? â Rumi asks, massaging your legs
Still trying to catch your breath you nod frantically - wanting to please your girlfriend.
Rumi's pussy is throbbing and drenched in her own arousal. All she can think about is pushing your thick thighs up so she can grind on your pretty pussy.
She holds your legs to your chest - digging her hand into the soft flesh. Feeling her pussy on yours makes both of you whimper. The two of you are so wet and desperate and you know you're not going to last long.
She may be smaller than you but thanks to her training she pins you down easily and humps you like a bunny in heat. Slipping her hand between the two of you and spreading your pussy open so you grind clit to clit with each other.
âJust like that bun.... thereâs my good, pretty girlâ she grits.
With each harsh thrust of her hips, it makes your tummy rolls and boobs jiggle. Rumi is truly mesmerised by your beauty. She keeps glancing up and down. Your eyes are shut in pure ecstasy and your tongue is lolled out of your mouth.
"S'pretty like this - all for me right Princess?"
"Mmh. M f'you Rumi. I'm y-your pretty girl."
"That's what I wanted to hear"
You continue rocking your bodies back and forth at an even more frantic pace.
"Faster pretty. Fuck just like that. ahh" Rumi curses.
The two of you cum hard and Rumi almost collapses on you. Catching herself she allows herself to gently lie on top of you. Bodies pressed together and drenched in sweat and with racing hearts, the two of you lay like this for a while.
You can't think straight at all - the room feels like it's spinning. You struggle to keep your eyes open and even out youâre breathing.
âOne more alright. Just relax, I got it".
Rumi is full of energy - itâs her quirk or being a hero but she's got excellent stamina. Sex always ended up being multiple rounds with the sweetest aftercare.
Rumi goes to the bedside table and grabs her strap on and a bottle of lube - not that she needed it.
"Are you okay with this? âShe asks while lubing up her strap.
Still basking in your afterglow and trying to come back to reality you reply with a meek "yes.â You can't see Rumi but hear the jingle of the buckles as she secures the strap on.
"Absolutely sure? Cause I really wanna fuck you against the mirror so you can see how pretty you are taking me "
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"Run, pretty girl, run" Chapter 1
Summary: Even with the safeguards put in place after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., the remaining Avengers find themselves on the run after the American government falls into disarray. The code word is sent, and theyâre officially fugitives. Bucky makes a run for the safe house set up for emergencies like this where the Avengers are told to meet up, but on the way saves the pregnant agent turned payroll specialist that he was partnered with. Will they make it before she goes into labor? Or at all?
Warnings: violence, pregnancy, childbirth, death of minor character, language, eventual smut
âĐогаŃŃâ: run âĐОдŃвоŃдиŃŃâ : confirmed âEnkosiâ: thank you âĐОПаâ: home âĐОйŃĐž пОМаНОваŃŃâ: welcome
Next chapter
It started out like any other regular Wednesday. Bucky walked toward the training room but made a quick pit stop at the main offices on the ground floor. He was greeted with quick hellos and tight smiles as he marched to his destination, two cups of coffee in his hands. He didnât feel like he was being off putting, but then again he was an Avenger, and Avengers didnât usually come through the logistical offices. He was also the ex-Winter Soldier, so it wasnât too surprising. He made a sharp left turn and plastered on his flirtatious smile. He knocked on the door around the corner. Â
âGâmorning pretty girl,â Bucky smirked as he walked in.
Y/N turned her attention from her computer to him, a wide smile on her face. âGood morning, hot stuff,â she giggled. His smile widened as he approached the desk and reached one of the cups out to her. Her eyes widened gleefully as she made grabby hands for the cup. âOh my god, my savior,â she whispered.
Bucky laughed as he plopped down on the chair in front of her desk. âI take my thanks in hugs and more long, exaggerated praises about how hot I am.â
As Y/N took a long sip she rolled her eyes and gave him an unimpressed look. âI donât need to give you a bigger head than you already have,â she murmured. âBut thank you. Iâll give you a very pregnant hug before you leave.â
Bucky nodded and took a look at her belly. âJesus, you just get bigger by the day.â
âUgh, donât remind me,â she sighed, looking down and rubbing it gently. âI need this baby out, like, yesterday.â
Bucky couldnât help but feel bad for his ex-partner. Y/N had been paired up with him for missions as a test to see how he worked with others as he reintegrated into working under the Avengers. They had gotten along from the start. Bucky had a hard time opening up to people, but Y/N was kind while also taking nobodyâs shit, so she was able to be a friend while also putting him in his place, which he enjoyed. So many people were afraid of him, but she had shown no worry or fear from the moment she met him. They had become fast friends, and if Bucky was perfectly honest with himself, heâd been falling for her, but she had been dating her boyfriend of three years, Tim. That all changed when one day on a mission she had suddenly gone pale, ran away and thrown up profusely. She was pregnant, and Tim disappeared. Bucky was furious. Y/N was determined to do right by this baby, no matter who its father was, deciding to keep it and transferring over to be a payroll specialist. Bucky was ready and willing to help however and whenever she needed, going with her when he could to appointments and trying to make her comfortable when they hung out outside of work. Her due date was in a week. Â
âSoon, pretty girl, soon,â he smiled fondly at her. He leaned forward. âAnd Iâm being so perfectly serious that if you go into labor and donât immediately call me I will go DEFCON one on your ass,â he said, narrowing his eyes at her.
She narrowed her eyes back at him and slightly leaned forward. âI wish you would,â she sneered. âThen Iâd have to show you what Natasha taught me.â
They stared each other down for another moment before they both cracked smiles and started laughing. He sat back and put his hands up in surrender. âAlright, Mamas, I got it,â he chuckled. He looked at the clock on her wall and sighed. âI guess I better get going. But hey, dinner tonight? At 6?â he said, standing from the chair.
âOnly if youâre cooking,â Y/N said, also standing up, although a little slowly and awkwardly with her large belly. âNow come claim my thanks,â she smirked as she opened her arms to him.
Bucky snickered and rounded the desk, stepping into her outstretched arms and rubbing her back. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head before pulling away, then stooped down so he was eye level with her belly. âAnd you, sir,â he spoke to her belly, making her laugh, âdonât give your mama so much grief. Chill out,â he said before standing straight. âIâll see you later, pretty girl,â he winked at her before grabbing his coffee and turning to leave.
âDonât give them too much sass!â Y/N called out to him.
âNo promises!â he chimed back.
***
A few hours later as Bucky was training the new recruits Yelena approached him in the gym. âBarnes,â she greeted him stiffly, standing next to him.
âBelova,â he greeted her back, watching the recruits. âWhat do I owe the pleasure?â
âĐогаŃŃ,â she whispered, her lips barely moving.
Bucky stiffened, the hairs on the back of his neck standing and his crossed arms tensing. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Yelena looked normal to the everyday person, but he could see the panic in her eyes and the tightness around her mouth. He minutely nodded and focused around the room, looking for exit points and an escape route. Â
âĐОдŃвоŃдиŃŃ,â he whispered back to her. Yelena nodded and walked away slowly. Bucky waited for her to leave the gym. His mind was racing as he came up with a plan. âAlright, now close quarters combatives! Chokeholds!â he yelled out and the recruits all changed positions with their partners, moving into the next exercise. As they continued he slowly took steps around them like he was analyzing their movements, but as soon as he reached the other side of the gym he slipped out the door and moved quickly down the hallway. He was able to make it to his room and grab his to-go bag, double checking it for his guns, knives, money, passports and alternate identifications before shrugging on his jacket and hat.
As he made his way down the hall he suddenly stopped. Y/N. He swore under his breath. Surely she wasnât a part of thisâŚÂ He stopped by her room just down the hall from his, searching her room momentarily before finding her to-go bag, grabbing a couple more things she would need for her pregnancy and shoving them in before walking briskly to the stairs. He made it down to the logistical offices again, texting Y/N to meet him by the bathrooms next to them. She came out of the office looking confused and walked into the womenâs restroom. Bucky followed her in and locked the door behind them and turned to her sharply. He approached her fast and she backed up slightly at the look on his face.
âWhatâs going on, Buck?â she asked, looking more surprised than scared.
Bucky watched her carefully. âĐогаŃŃ,â he whispered.
Y/Nâs eyes widened, her brow furrowing. âĐОдŃвоŃдиŃŃ,â she whispered back. âYouâve gotta be fucking kidding me.â
Bucky closed his eyes and sighed heavily. She knew, thank God. He pulled her bag off his shoulder and gave it to her. âItâs been 12 minutes.â
Y/N swore before taking the bag and starting to strip out of her corporate attire. Bucky turned to give her privacy and also to check the bathroom. A few minutes later she was changed, throwing her work clothes into the bag. She pulled her phone out and gave it to Bucky. He promptly smashed it in his vibranium hand, then smashed his own before throwing them away in the trash. Â
â15 minutes,â she said, putting her bag on her arm.
âLetâs go,â Bucky said lowly. He took her arm in his like they were just going on holiday and unlocked the bathroom door. They stepped out and walked toward the front door. As they approached Bucky turned to Y/N. âAre you excited for your last bit of freedom before the baby comes?â he asked jovially, wearing a smile.
Y/N smiled up at him. âAnd last bit of sleep for the rest of my life,â she replied. They laughed together as they walked out. As soon as they were out of earshot they kept the smiles but moved a little faster towards Y/Nâs car, since Buckyâs bike wouldnât work for them both, especially with Y/N being pregnant. He could feel her shaking next to him and he patted her hand on his arm before she gave him the keys. They threw their bags in the backseat and Bucky slid in as Y/N buckled herself in. Y/N was about to speak but Bucky held up a finger. He pulled out a small device and attached it to her carâs radio then pushed the button at the end of it. A small electrical pulse swept through the car, a faint sizzling being heard before he turned the car on and drove out of the facility parking lot. They didnât speak again for another ten miles until Bucky sighed heavily.
âI think weâre okay, for now,â he said, his eyes flying around. Â
âWas that for tracking devices?â Y/N asked, pointing at the device.
âYes,â Bucky said. âThey try to put trackers on all employees' vehicles. Found one on my bike a few weeks ago while I was tuning it up.â
Y/N swore again. âDo we know anything?â
âNo,â Bucky replied, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.
âWho sounded off?â she asked quietly.
âYelena,â he replied.
Y/N sighed this time. âGood,â she said. She was friends with Yelena, so she was happy to know they were on the same side. After a few more minutes Bucky heard Y/Nâs breathing slightly pick up. He glanced at her and saw tears silently streaming down her face, her fingers fiddling in her lap. She was stressed, and scared, as anyone would be while escaping from a newly discovered corrupt government agency and trying to safely make it to a checkpoint, but being in a compromised position made it even worse. He reached out and took her hand closest to him, gently rubbing her knuckles. She squeezed his hand as they drove as fast as possible without raising suspicion. They were on the run.Â
#marvel#smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x reader#series fanfic#chapter 1#mama reader#agent reader
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Hi!! Can I request jealous Jordan li where reader is spending a lot of time with someone else, maybe for a school project or something and Jordan notices and is like, nope, not happening, this one's mine bc they're so in love with reader and want all of the attention
Whew, that was a lot, haha,
Thank you!!!!
*not sure if u want established partners or situationship w feelings or something else, but i think imma go with situationship bc thats always the vibe for jordan lol if u want more established relationship lmk*
Debate club was a sensible extracurricular, and you had been doing it since your school stopped having model UN in 9th grade. It wasn't your favorite thing in the world, but you liked to argue, so it worked out. This week, you were arguing the "for" case with your teammate for the semester, Blake Mathers. He's a grating sophomore with floppy hair, and telekinesis powers you've only seen him use to enable his own laziness. The head of the club was nice enough, but he was insistent on "teamwork" when you'd much rather write alone. It was exhausting, trying to filter your thoughts and opinions, and allowing others to shine was not your style.
You try to pay attention to what Blake was saying about the topic, but all you were thinking about was Jordan Li. Ever since you made out at one of Dusty's infamous parties, they had invaded your senses and your thoughts. They'd catch you staring during class, or you'd wear a tiny skirt to a party, and you'd end up in a closet, or a car, or a bedroom, all limbs and heavy breathing.
"Um, hello? Did you hear me?" You shake your head.
"Sorry. Say that again?"
"The argument we wrote yesterday. It's gone - my computer got fucked." Ah, crap. This is the second time Blake's stupidity has made you re-do work. You'd done some research at the start of the week, and he'd forgotten to mention the topic had been changed. You sigh.
"Well, fuck. Alright, let's go back to the library then." You turn around and start walking, trying not to show your disappointment. You'd been hoping to "run into" Jordan at the JitterBean - hence the tight-ass skinny jeans.
Waste of an outfit, you think bitterly, pushing open the glass doors and setting up at the table that you and Blake had been using to do your assignments. Thankfully you'd saved your notes from yesterday, so you began reconstructing your argument while Blake screwed off.
You weren't paying much attention to what he was doing until you saw him fucking with Justine. Now there's some bullying you can get behind. You giggle, and watch as he makes another paper airplane fly around her head. She glares over at him and storms out, which makes you laugh out loud. The librarian glares, and you exchange a guilty look with Blake before getting back into writing.
The afternoon goes by easily after that. You were vaguely aware of other students milling about or studying nearby, but you were in the zone. Finally, at almost 8, the argument was done, and you saved it in multiple places just in case.
You wave goodbye to Blake, happy that the session went reasonably ok and the work was done. Saturday's debate was going to be a blast.
"Have fun on your little date with Mathers?" Jordan was leaning against the outside wall of the library, expression unreadable.
"Is the infamous Jordan Li jealous?" Their eyes harden slightly.
"Not jealous, just lookin out for you. He's a moron." They begin walking beside you, not acknowledging how unhinged they were behaving. Just looking out for you? If they weren't so damn hot, you might slap them. But the fact that they were asking meant.... something, right? You ignored how that made your heart swoop and just kept walking.
"We have debate club together, and he keeps fucking shit up, that's all." You say, in spite of yourself. If you were smarter, you'd let them wonder what you were doing with him. But you couldn't keep from looking at them, and feeling disappointed you can't make out any relief in their eyes. But then, their arm is snaked around your waist and their lips are at your ear.
"You wear those skin fucking tight jeans to just study with him?" You grit your teeth, forcing your mouth to not say what you wanted so desperately to say: 'No, I wore them for you, and you're clearly the idiot if you can't tell that I am so wrapped around your finger that I will dress up just in case I see you.' and just roll your eyes instead. They let their hand slide from your waist to your back pocket, daring you to stop them. And of course you don't. With every inch their hand travels, your heart skips another beat. When they squeeze your ass ever so slightly, a whimper sneaks out before you can stop it.
And with that, you're being pressed against a tree and their lips are on your neck.
"Fuck, J." You curse as their teeth sink into your skin.
"You're mine, baby. Only mine." They murmur in your ear.
"Always have been." You say back, almost moaning as they continue their assault on your neck. They pull away at this.
"Yeah? That why you're spending all your time with Mathers and co instead of me, in such," They pause to run their hands on your hips, pulling you tight against them. "delicious clothes."
"I thought you weren't jealous." You murmur, sliding your hand up their back. "But I wore these, and what's underneath, for you and you alone. He's just a moron who's forced me to re-do my work twice this week alone."
"Oh, you poor baby. Let me take you up and make everyone hear who really owns you." You barely hold back a moan as they drag you up to your dorm to fulfill their promise.
#jordan li#gen v#gen v prime#jordan li x reader#gen v smut#gen v fic#jordan li imagine#request#reqs open
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something new
wembley brings love and celebrationÂ
Word count:Â 5190
A/N: posting something for the first time in months (since april) and I am very excited for you to read.  please let me know what you think. I enjoyed writing and promise I'm already working on the next thing đ asks
_____
Wembley Stadium.
Itâs a place you had heard many stories about and even attended a show in 2019 as a gift for your father to watch his favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. This entire week has been remarkable, but tonight is the final night. You are here supporting your boyfriend, Harry, and because itâs the last night, there will be a celebration after with the attendance of everyone who knows Harry from family, friends, and workers.
When you first met Harry, you didnât know he was Harry Styles. Many people would ask how you could not recognize the Harry Styles, but when you met him, he had a full beard and hair full of messy curls. He was dressed in mini running shorts wearing a black jumper and bright running shoes. The reason you spoke to him was his shoes. This brand is known for its style of color combination and lightness in weight, making it the running shoe. You had been debating buying a pair, and his looked well-loved. It wouldnât hurt to hear an opinion from someone who wasnât an online user.
âExcuse me,â you called out softly behind him.
He jumps and moves away from the counter. âSorry, was I in your way?â
You do your best not to melt hearing his deep voice; it was comforting for some odd reason. You smile and shake your head. âNo, uh, actually. Iâm sorry to bother you. This is actually such a silly question now.â You pause, debating walking away while you can, but he encourages you to continue. âItâs about your shoes. Are the Hokaâs worth it? The online reviews have not been able to convince me, and Iâve read too many articles at this point. Yours look like theyâve seen a few miles,â you point out.
Harry looks down at his shoes and laughs, âso they do.â He meets your eye, stepping closer and away from the counter. âIâm on my fourth pair,â he confesses sheepishly.
You wince, knowing the price for these shoes is not cheap. âAre you constantly running? Are they easily worn out?â
His face reddens, and he fiddles with his necklace. âNo, uhâŚI like having more options to match my outfits.â
You laugh, âthat makes sense.â You pause. âDoes that mean picking my first pair will be harder? I saved for one pair, and my pocket will hurt if I decide to bite the bullet.â
âI debated a few choices at my computer and ultimately bought two pairs. They were orange and yellow. Bondi are a good first choice.â
âIâll keep that in mind.â You notice the barista, Lily sliding a coffee on the counter and gesturing itâs his, meaning itâs time for you to go. âSorry for bothering you, but this was very helpful. Sorry, I never got your name. Iâm Y/N.â
âHarry. It was no bother.â
You doubt that.
âBye, Harry.â You collect your bag and walk out, knowing you were going to overthink buying these shoes, and Harry would never leave your mind.
To no surprise, youâre back at your favorite coffee shop the following day, but this time dressed in your favorite jeans and a cardigan your grandma helped you knit over the summer last year. Itâs pastel pink with flowers placed randomly all over. You didnât dress cute for a guy. You dressed cute for yourself. At least, thatâs what you kept telling yourself. Lily is a good friend, and after walking your iced latte to your table, she sat down for a moment.
âNice conversation yesterday?â She ponders.
âMhmâŚnice fellow.â
âWas surprised you bothered him?â
You look at her, confused. âWas it rude of me?â
âSome would say so.â
âIâm confused. We talked about shoes. What did I do wrong?â
Lily stares at you, trying to see if youâre joking. âY/N, be serious.â
âI am.â
She looks around, leaning closer. âYou spoke to Harry Styles. Popstar sensation. Most loved man on the earth.â Lily sees you processing her words, and before you can make rebuttals, she pulls her phone out and shows you a photo of Harry, the guy you met, under a Harry Styles update page.
âWell, shit!â
âYeah, he at least looks interested in your conversation.â
You roll your eyes, âgeeze, Lily, thanks for making it seem like itâs awful to talk with me.â
âNot what I meant,â she apologizes.
âItâs fine. The beard threw me off.â
âHeâs a regular here. Comes every other day.â Lily excuses herself needing to get back to work, and with that reassurance, he wouldnât be coming in; you enjoy your coffee.
You took out your laptop and began to work while keeping an eye on the door. Pretty soon, you got deep into your research and didnât even notice when the door chimed, signaling someone knew had entered.
âYou look really focused. Are you working?â Harry had walked up to your table, startling you.
The truth was you were not working, although you should have been; it was a Wednesday morning. You feel your cheeks warm up, knowing youâve been caught. âWonât lie to you, Harry. Iâm looking at shoes.â You turn your screen to let him see you have a page pulled up for running shoes with multiple open tabs.
Harry laughs in surprise and gestures to the empty seat to join you. You move your bag, and he happily slides in. You move your laptop closer to him, giving him a better view.
âThose are cute.â You had been looking at a lilac pair.
âRight! But look at these.â
Harry frowns when you switch the screen to display a cherry-pink design. âNow, thatâs a tough choice.â
âUghâŚI know. Iâve been alternating back and forth.â
âOkay, close your eyes,â he orders.
You look at him skeptically but do as he says.
âItâs a sunny day which is just a miracle here in London,â you laugh, and he continues. âYouâre out on a walk deciding where to go for the day when a stranger points out your shoe is untied. You bend down to tie it. Now what color are your shoes?â
âPurple,â you answer without thinking.
âWell, there you go.â
âThat was helpful, Harry. Thank you. Are you a therapist or something?â
âIn another life, I would be.â
âWell, what do you do now?â You ask, genuinely interested.
Harry looks at you, confused as if youâre really asking the question. âI sing for a living. UhâŚâ he feels embarrassed sharing this for some reason. âI go on stage and perform.â
You frown, looking at him closer. âFrom my eye level, you look like a rugged Harry Styles.â
Harry looks amused. âRugged. Huh, I thought the beard was good.â
âIt is,â you quickly agree. âSorry, Iâm used to seeing videos of himâwell, you clean-shaven.â
âIâm on a break. Itâs a nice way to let go.â
Right.
You were at a crossroads now because you liked Harry. He was friendly and easy to speak with, but would this new information change everything for you?
âMaybe we can go on a run when your shoes arrive?â Harry suggested.
Your eyes lit up, âreally?â
âMhmmâŚI like running around the park.â
âOh, I love finding new trails,â you gushed. âI bet you have found the best-hidden roads.â
Harry shrugs, âweâll have to see.â
âUh⌠Iâm sorry for not recognizing you. I donât know if that was weird or not.â You decide to apologize.
âYouâre fine, Y/N. When you came up to me, I thought you wanted a photo, but clearly, my shoes were more interesting,â he teased. âIt was nice being just Harry.â
You smile sheepishly at him, âyouâre still Harry to me. Feel like youâll turn into Harry Styles when youâre clean-shaven on stage.â
âNot for a few weeks, then. I have shows in Los Angeles at the end of January,â he tells you because he wants to bask in being just Harry for a few weeks more.
âOh, fun,â you wiggle your eyebrows at him.
âMhmmâŚâ Harry waits for you to ask more, but instead, you turn the conversation to his workout routine.
From then on, conversation flows easily. You tell Harry youâre the oldest of three. Two younger brothers who live to embarrass you whenever they get the chance but love when you drive them around. You tell him about your job in publishing and that you worked your way up to being an editor. Itâs a job you love dearly. Harry lets you ramble on, asking questions and wanting to learn more. He learns youâre allergic to mushrooms. Your first tattoo was a cherry you got at eighteen on an impulsive night out. That youâre the only family member in generations to be born left-handed.
Harry shares that he loves to travel because it gives him a place to miss and come home. He loves his sister and calls her his best friend. That heâs too competitive and loves a long game of Scrabble. He dreams of having a pet dog but does not want to commit when his life is on the road. You mention your family dog, Woodstock, named after the iconic yellow bird from the Peanuts comics. A yellow Labrador who runs up to strangers, always asking for belly rubs. You promise to take him to visit.
Your friendship with Harry grew from there. You would meet most mornings outside the coffee shop for a run and then for a coffee that turned into hours of conversation. You liked Harry and reckoned you liked him more than a friend, but there was no way you would change that dynamic and instead settle to be his friend. When Harry showed up one day clean-shaven, you were taken aback because it made him look younger, and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time.
âDonât recognize me anymore,â he teases.
âI could spot those green eyes in a sea of people,â you promise him.
Come April, a shift in your dynamic happened. Harry wanted you to work out with him and his trainer. You thought he was crazy, but really Harry was dying for you to meet his friends. They couldnât stop teasing him that you were made up.
âHarry!â
You both turned and found a man in a white shirt and shorts, similar to Harry, approaching you. Harry welcomed him in a hug before going to stand next to you. âThis is Y/N. Y/N, Brad.â
Brad shot you a smile, âpleasure to meet you.â
âYou as well.â
âItâs nice to put a face to a name. He canât shut up about you,â Brad confesses.
âOi! Stop that.â Harry frowns, but you can tell he doesnât mind.
You end up having the worst workout of your life. Brad, not taking a moment of pity for you until he finally called it quits an hour later. You threw yourself on the grass, closed your eyes, and took slow breaths. You heard Harry laughing above you but did not acknowledge him.
âCome on, petal. Iâll buy you a coffee,â Harry offered.
You peeked one eye open, âand a scone?â
âIâll get you all the goods you want,â Brad chimes in. âYou were a trooper out there.â
âFuck, I never want to work out with you again,â you huff.
âDonât think we will if he has a say,â Brad points to Harry. âNever seen him so angry.â
âSheâs my friend. Didnât want to explain her death to her parents.â
After that, it seemed you only saw more of each other until one night at your home, Harry made a move you didnât see coming. After the film finished, Harry turned serious.
âY/N?â
âHarry, what is it?â You ask, concerned.
âI like you.â
You sigh in relief, âgosh, you scared me. I like you too, silly. Youâre my best friend.â
Harry shakes his head. âYouâre not listening to me.â
âHeard you loud and clear.â
He sighs, frustrated. âThese last few months as your friend have been amazing. I feel so lucky you approached me to talk about shoes. While I enjoy being your friend every time we get together, these feelings I have continue to grow, and I can no longer keep them to myself. I like you, and I want to see where this goes.â
You sit there shocked because you never expected Harry to reciprocate your feelings, but he is pouring his heart out for you. âHarry,â you breathed out. âI-I-I like you too. I have for some time, but I didnât want to lose you.â
âMe either, but Brad said a person as amazing as you would not wait around for me.â
You laugh, âtell him Iâm a fool because I think I would have waited a lifetime for you.â
âI know itâs too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend seeing as we havenât been on a date, butââ
You interrupt him. âWhy canât we say this is our first date? If we think about it, every time we have spent together could be considered a date.â
âDo you end a first date with a kiss?â He asks sheepishly.
âOnly if itâs you,â you promise him.
When your wine-stained lips meet his, you feel a wave of peace surround you knowing that it might be soon, but the universe sent Harry to you. He was your other half. He made you better. You pulled him closer, loving the closeness this kiss brought you. Harry sighed, ending the kiss. You went in for a second kiss needing more of him for a little longer.
âPetal, baby. Iâm here,â he spoke against your lips.
You giggled out of breath. âSorry, I think I like you a little too much.â
Harry leaned his forehead against you. âI feel the same.â
âGood, letâs kiss some more and then have a sleepover.â
âDonât you think itâs too soon, petal?â Harry asked.
You frowned, âyou slept here two nights ago.â
Harry sighed, âyouâre right.â
It wasnât until a week later you made it official. Life was perfect, and you were happy. Harry knew starting a relationship as he began touring wasnât the smartest option, but he was close to home and promised to check in at every chance. In each city he visited, he picked up a souvenir for you as a reminder he was thinking of you. It was cheesy, but he wrote you postcards from each city because even though they wouldnât arrive quickly, they would remind you of him when you did receive them. It only made you like him more and knew you were falling in love quickly. There was no stopping it.
While you joined him at his special show at Slane Castle, you didnât have the chance to meet many of his family, mainly only the band. They welcomed you with open arms, and how Harry never stops talking about you. It made you nervous. You hoped to live up to his words because these people and his band members meant the world to Harry.
____
Now being here to celebrate four sold-out nights at Wembley, it felt overwhelming knowing Harryâs entire family and friends from his childhood would be here. Youâve known Harry for months but loved him like heâs always been yours. It was a joyous day, but even that wouldnât take away your nerves for the final night of seeing Harry shine on stage.
âNo one is going to believe I didnât recognize you when we first met,â Â you tell him as the driver drove down a road that arrives at the back of Wembley, away from the crowd.
âCourse they will.â
You give him a deadpan look, âyouâre basically the face of the UK. A prince, some would say.â You sit up and clear your throat. âOh, howâd we meet. Well, I met him at a coffee shop and asked him about his shoes.â You rolled your eyes, âsounds fake to me.â
âGood thing itâs the truth. Plus, I thought you were cute. Would have never worked up the courage to walk up to you, though.â
âStop. Youâre only saying that.â
âNope, I mean it. Brad and the band like you.â
âI hope they do,â you muttered. âOnly people Iâve met now. Iâm meeting everyone.â
âYou met Mum and Gem,â Harry reminds you. âSpent time with them for three nights.â
You sigh because, for a moment, you feel Harry doesnât understand how overwhelming this is. Everyone here knows Harry. They know Harry from Holmes Chapel, and they know the amazing person he is. You feel happy to know and love him, but theyâve got a lifetime of Harry, and youâve got months. It differs for everyone because you would move mountains to ensure he was happy. Except, everyone doesnât know that. They donât know you.
âY/N, petal will you look at me,â he begs softly.
You take a deep breath and allow yourself to meet his emerald eyes. Harry takes in the worry shining bright, and smiles. âPetal, I love you. I know you love me. You remind me every moment weâre together and when Iâm away. I donât doubt it. My family knows you, maybe not your physical form, but they have heard stories and seen endless pictures. They will love you because I love you. If you get overwhelmed, you can always sit back and watch, theyâll understand. Most importantly, I will understand. I wish I could hold you as Mum introduces you to everyone. I told her to hold off, but sheâs excited. Brad will be on the floor, and I know you enjoy that. Youâre in safe hands.â
âI love you. Thank you. I know itâs your day, and Iâm making it all about me.â
Harry shushes you, âhey, hey. Weâre a team. Your feelings are just as important as mine. Now give me a kiss.â
You loved him, simple as that. He was the missing piece in your life.
___
The show was like no other. Harry, from the moment he got on stage, radiated happiness. The fans were the loudest they had been all week, filling you with so much joy. Anne told you to join her at the family box, but you decided to be on the floor as close to Harry as possible by the Jonny pod; you noticed Harry favored the side more, knowing his dear friend was in the audience tonight. From surprise songs to dancing and Mitch receiving his Grammy, you knew it would be a night you would never forget. As Harry began his encore with âSign of the Times,â the rain started falling, and so did your tears. The fact that over 90 thousand people were here for Harry said enough. They chose to spend their evening with him, and he delivered to make it memorable.
You didnât even notice that Brad captured a photo of you staring at Harry on stage with a giant smile and hands over your heart you would only see later when Harry made it his lock screen. Harry thanks the crowd for a magical night stating over and over again that heâs never been happier.
Brad wraps an arm around you and walks you towards Harry, whoâs sharing long hugs and meaningful words with his bandmates. This is the man you love, and thereâs nothing youâd change about it. You followed Harry to the dressing room, wanting a moment alone before the madness. Harry bounces around quickly to change, removing the overalls and shimming them down his waist. He slips on shorts, throws on a random shirt, and puts on his new Adidas Love on Tour sweater with his initials.
You lean against the door admiring him in all his glory. He didnât bother for a shower, too eager to see everyone.
âIâm proud of you,â you whisper. âI know it might not mean much, but I am.â
Harry pauses, finishes tying his shoe, and walks over to you. He stops before you, his hands finding a home on your cheeks. âIt means the world. Donât ever think it doesnât. We might only have been together for two months, but my heart has loved you my entire life. You being here is enough. I could feel your love from the stage.â
He connects your lips together, and you melt against him. Harry breathes life into you, and you never want him to stop. âI love you, Y/N.â
âI love you, Harry. So much.â
âGood. Letâs go mingle.â You move away from the door and make your way outside when he tugs you back in. âForgot one last thing.â
He hurries over to his bag, pulls out an identical sweater, and hands it to you. You accept it moving and look it over. Your eyes quickly find your initials on the right side, similar to his.
âHarryâthis isnât necessary.â
Harry shrugs, âit was your idea.â
You donât fight him as he slips off your red leather jacket and helps you slip on the thin material. He fixes the collar making sure none of your hair is tucked under. Harry decides you look good, giving you a pat on the butt. âNow we can go.â
Harry held your hand as you walked over to the area Jeff had set up for the celebration. He mentioned there would be another location later in the night, but it would be good to let the crowds outside die out. On your walk over, Harry told you about outfits and signs he saw in the crowd. How overwhelmed he came when the rain came down. He felt at home.
You expressed how much fun you had, told Harry how Jeff and Tommy taught you the boot scoot during âTreat People,â and assured him many videos of your failed attempt were taken. Harry paused outside the door where you could hear the loud chatter, and you knew what was waiting for you behind those doors. Harry shoots you a look, and you give him a reassuring smile letting him know itâs okay to go in.
The cheers are loud when the man of the hour walks in. Everyone was quick to gather around him. You try to sneak away, but his grip on your hand stays tight. Every person who thanks him, he makes sure to introduce you.
âLove, go celebrate. Itâs alright. Iâll be fine,â you tell him in a low voice.
Harry shakes his head, instead kissing you and pulling you along to meet and chat with new people. You felt a bit overwhelmed, but everyone has been so sweet. They asked where you were from? Scotland. What was your job? An editor. How did you meet? Coffee Shop. How proud were you? Immensely.
You kept trying to hang back, but Harry seemed to notice when you drifted away. He would kiss you and ask for your input in the conversation. You told him you were getting a drink and would be back momentarily, except you got a vodka cranberry and hid in a corner. Harry found you when your drink was half gone.
âBabyyy,â he called out. âMissed you.â
You felt your cheeks heat up as he wrapped himself around you. He moved you away from the wall, making you face the crowd, his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.
âI love you,â he whispered.
You lean against him, happy to be wrapped in his arms, feeling safe. âI love you, bub.â
Harry takes a sip of your drink and hums at the bitterness of the cranberry. He knows youâre a social drinker because it allows you to relax and not be as anxious. You and Harry get lost in your world as you let him talk your ear off. He tells you about people around the room, who they are, and how theyâve helped them. Surprisingly, Harry can name everyone in the room, though it shouldnât shock you much. Itâs just the type of person he is.
Your boyfriend is an affectionate person. He loves having a hand on the small of your back or your hand in his. He wants to be close because he says he wants makeup when heâs away. Some would say it makes him look clingy, but lucky for you, you love his touch; itâs comforting. You could feel his smile against your skin as he planted kisses on your face.
Even while in your corner, people come up to you. When they see Harry begin to kiss your shoulder or whisper in your ear, they excuse themselves. You canât help but feel you are keeping Harry from celebrating with everyone, not realizing heâs happy to celebrate with you in his arms.
âHarry! Sue!â Is yelled from across the room. You see a short, dirty-haired blonde yell and wave for him, but Harry is too busy peppering kisses all over your neck to realize.
âBubby, love. Theyâre calling for you.â
He hums against your neck. âIâm perfect here.â
You sigh because the yelling continues, and youâre starting to feel overwhelmed because heâs not celebrating. Instead, Harry is ensuring youâre not nervous, which seems like the most boring job in the world. He should be taking shots with friends and telling stories about the last four nights.
âGo on, Iâll be right behind you,â you promise him.
Harry tightens his hold on you, âbaby, you sure?â
âYes, no go. Iâll even bring you a drink.â
âTeââ
âTequila neat,â you tease. âI know you.â
Harry pecks your lips once, twice, and a third time before making his way across the room, but not before looking over his shoulder one last time at you. You shoot him a wink and exaggerate, looking at his bum and making him laugh. He moves his hips a little extra just for you. As Harry easily falls into the conversation, you use this moment as an opportunity for a breather.
You were alone for around five minutes when you heard footsteps coming your way. You were in a corridor that led you out to the stage if you continued walking down but stopped halfway, knowing no one would come this way. You were wrong.
Harry is who you expected to see, but to your surprise, itâs Gemma, his older sister.
âHi,â you greet softly. The conversations with Gemma have been short, but from what you can tell, sheâs wise beyond her years and always ready to listen.
âYou okay?â She asks, straight to the point.
âA bit loud,â you gesture towards the hallway where the music can still be heard.
She nods, âI get that.â Gemma looks around before moving to stand next to you shoulder to shoulder. âAre you okay?â She asks again.
You sigh, âIâi-i.â
âA bit much for a family gathering.â
âA bit,â you exhale, knowing Gemma understands what you might be feeling.
âItâs the perfect opportunity, I feel. I did forget how overwhelming it was. I donât even remember my boyfriendâs first family gathering.â
âAre you saying I wonât remember this in a few years?â
âOh, youâre never forgetting tonight.â She smirks, âunless you keep drinking.â
You scrunch your nose at the thought. âBetter not.â
The two of you stand in silence, and you know itâs because Gemma is giving you a minute to gather your thoughts.
âI justâI love Harry. I do. I hope you donât doubt that, but I donât know how to celebrate when youâve all been here for him every step of the way. Year after year.â
Gemma deflates, âoh, Y/N.â
âSorry, I shouldnât haveââ Gemma cuts you off.
âItâs okay,â she assures you. âItâs difficult because of his job, not because of who he is. But trust me when I say he loves you.â Gemmaâs words are firm, and you believe her. As an older sister, you would do anything to protect your siblings but never lie to someone important.
âHarry talks about you every chance he gets. Did you know Y/N ran a marathon? Sheâs swam with sharks in a reservation center. Y/Nâs CPR certified. She edited and helped publish five number-one books this year,â Gemma rambles off. âWe all know so much because heâs proud and wants to share it with those close to him.â
âI-I didnât know.â You let all of this process, but itâs a shock because some of the things Gemma listed mean nothing, but clearly, to him, mean everything.
âEveryone in that room,â Gemma points over her shoulder, âknows who you are and what you mean to him.â
âEveryone?â You whisper. It doesnât feel real. Youâd never been so loved, and it might be why youâre feeling overwhelmed because he wants to bask in your love. Itâs not a show; itâs simply his way of showing he loves you in front of everyone he cares about.
âCelebrate how you want but know all we want is to see him happy. Itâs clear as day that you make him happy. This is the happiest Iâve seen him, and itâs because of you. Maybe even happier than selling out Wembley.â
âThank you, Gemma.â She hugs you tight, and itâs so familiar yet different from Harryâs. His is light and full of love, while Gemmaâs is tight and warm. âHe wrote you a beautiful song.â Youâre referring to âSweet Creature,â which he dedicated to her tonight.
âItâs a special one. Donât worry. I hear youâll be getting yours soon enough,â she teases. âIâll see you inside.â
A few seconds later, someone else joins you. Itâs as if your body knows who it is without seeing them because you feel the familiar flutter in your stomach as his smell wraps around you.
âBaby, where did you go?â Harry whines. Baby is a term of endearment that comes out a lot when heâs had more than one to drink. Itâs your favorite during these times.
âIâm here,â you open your arms, and he happily falls in your embrace. âIâm proud of you, love.â You run a hand through the back of his head, keeping him close.
âThank you, baby.â
âLike really proud. Youâre so loved. What you do is incredible. I feel so lucky to be able to love you.â
Harry pulls back, and you see his beautiful eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall soon. âI love you.â
You press your lips against his and put all your love into the kiss. You wish you could spend the rest of the night kissing him, but there is more celebrating to do. Harry doesnât let you pull away, instead deepening the kiss. You melt against him, forgetting your worries and enjoying this moment with him. A moment only for the two of you to remember.
âLetâs keep celebrating, my love,â you whisper against his lips.
âStill nervous?â He checks.
âOnly a smidge.â
Harry smiles, âthatâs okay. Iâll hold your hand.â
âYou wonât let go?â
âNever,â he promises.
As you return to the party holding tight to his hand, he asks an important question. âCan I keep kissing you?â
Your laugh rings loud, echoing through Harryâs heart. You bring your hand up to rest at the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. âAs much as you like.â
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