#aloof reader

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cold War

The receiving room was beautifully furnished. Neither overly ostentatious nor fussy in design. But it had a... coldness to it. This entire god forsaken building was, artfully hidden fireplaces be damned.

And it wasn't just the temperature.

The North may be a cold place, but the people there had always been a hardy one. Kind, if stoic. Not the sort for empty words and flamboyant gestures. So to see a building like this? One so very, very COLD? It spoke of something rotten. Something gone terribly wrong and far beyond control, hidden away out in the countryside where no one could stop it in time.

And it had.

And it DID.

And oh, how we SUFFERED for it, didn't we?

I didn't understand what went wrong. I knew, KNEW, because I was no fool, that the Story would change. Since I was remove a load bearing antagonist, how could it NOT? But... well, I did not wish to die. Certainly not for some other girl's love story. I refused to suffer. To be humiliated. To lead a life of pain and degradation. Just so she might frolic about with men, only to ultimately end up on the throne.

She would either have to find her way to greatness on her own merit, or settle of mediocrity. But it would NOT be built upon the back of my suffering. I gracefully bowed out. Took leave of the stage. And? Comported myself as befit a daughter of my house.

They were not... the most open. In fact, they struggled to connect. To offer or even receive comforts of any kind. But my family LOVED with a fierceness that would lead armies and burn nations. We were ABSOLUTE. And we? Stand TOGETHER. Always.

I would never forget. No matter how many days pass by. WHO I first saw when I opened my eyes. Clustered around my tiny form, rumbled and undignified in a way I would never see them again, with eyes that shone with such RELIEF. I never saw my mother's make run like that again. I half believe she hopes I do not remember.

But I DO.

And I always will.

In the Story, my character was a terror. Haughty and cruel. Sadistic. A wealthy brat that played God right up until all her sins came due. She drove a great deal of the early plot. I? Did none of those things. I threw myself into being a good daughter and a shining reflection upon the parents I loved.

I took my etiquette lessons seriously, to the delight of my teachers. My school work was promptly finished and followed by clarifying questions, to the joy of my tutors. I was polite to my peers. Overlooked their embarrassing early fumbles and mistakes. Helped them navigate social disasters with dignity. Promised nothing yet remained approachable.

My prospects had been ABYSMAL in the Story. It was part of the Narrative's punishment, I think. Though in hindsight, it is an ugly thing to do. A wonder I ever found such a story interesting enough to read. I imagine, it is the difference between tales and lived events? Nonetheless. My father was FLOODED with letters.

My poor mother absolutely HARRASED. Not an outing could go by, without SOMEONE mentioning their DEAR, SWEET son or nephew. To maintain proper appearances and neutrality, I was forced to attend more party's and events then I EVER wished to see.

I felt like a slab of meat up for auction. A show pony. But I also knew it was temporary. That I need only keep an eye out for a good, respectful man. Listen to the rumor mills. Discreetly bribe a few servants for information that "everyone knew". It was, after all, the way of things.

Should have been, the way of things.

But trouble started. Strange infighting, that started between boys and escalated to entire households. Tense, unspoken, lines dividing garden parties that only the day before were amicable. The Protagonist and her Harem of powerful players? Were BLIND to it.

Two of them were PRINCE for God sake! How had they been RAISED, that they could not feel the sudden shift in the socio-political landscape of their Father's court? He certainly could. And it clearly unnerved him. Yet? The Harem, each son's, each HEIRS, of some powerful position? Seemed both blind and deaf to all but the painfully obvious.

And even THAT? Was apparently unconnected to each other in their empty little minds. Had they nothing but flowers and glitter between their ears? One had to assume.

People were... accidentally forgotten. When invitations were sent. Then deliberately. Then OPENLY. Then? They were SNUBBED. Events deliberately scheduled on the same day, at the same time, as another. So all of polite society would have to CHOOSE. It was escalation.

And if it had been on or two houses? It would have been scandalous. Depending on the house, perhaps even worrying. A handful of houses? The king might have tried to get involved. Forcefully mediate. But it... it was somehow so much WORSE. Was EVERYWHERE.

Like someone had carefully examined the entirety of the Court for fault lines, then SWUNG. Some silent, careful, machination that left everyone at everyone's throat. Divided. Weak.

Easy to manipulate and control.

I could not for the life of me find the source of it all. My social season becoming swiftly more and more dangerous. Politically charged. People pushing and PUSHING for alliances I could not and WOULD NOT give without consulting my family. The capital was no longer safe. So... I quietly left.

Letters of vague excuse. Family matters, cousin so-n-so in their time of need, I'm sure you understand. Too late to stop me and under the cover of darkness.

It... I tell myself it is not my fault. That it would have happened either way. That I could not have known. But... but guilt is a heavy thing. It sits like lead in your gut. Like chains around your soul. They were waiting, I think. More, I suspect. Because...

Because the capital all but EXPLODED.

The carnage was IMMEDIATE. Not even a full day later, at a hunting party, the heir to one house shot the second son to another.

He did not survive.

The powder keg finally sparked and it all went up in flames. Alliances that had stood for centuries, shattered. Brother turned against brother. A wedding turned into a bloodbath, as the bride turned on both her family AND the groom, escaped into the night. Fights broke out everywhere.

The festering tension that had gone for so long unspoken? Could no longer be ignored. Would not, be ignored. The king was helpless to stop it all. The gaurd could only do so much. The fluffy, happy, empty headed little world of comfort the Protagonist knew? Was shredded to pieces.

It became starkly clear that the royal family... couldn't handle it.

That their heirs were... Weak.

Captain of the Gaurd, the Prime Minister, even the King's strongest supporter, the Duke of the East, ALL of them had... weak and ineffectual heirs. One or two could be a failing of parentage, but all together? They had let someone sabotage their sons. Make them puppets to be used and discarded at convenience.

The natural suspicion, of course, fell to the one most benefiting from said son's empty headedness. Much to the Harem's horror. No! Not their beloved shared girlfriend! That the world was burning around them? Of no consequence. But upsetting their darling little mouse? Unforgivable!

It was an act of true, genuine, paternal love; that those fools were banished by the king. They would have been killed horribly had they remained.

My family and I? Retreated to our lands. We had enough to survive. Our House and our People came first. We sent no messages, we received none. I practiced my frankly terrible embroidery. My maids gently CORRECTED my frankly terrible embroidery. The country BURNED.

Powerful people were picked off, one by one.

And wouldn't you know it? A new star was rising from the chaos. A voice of reason. Charismatic. Driven. Handsome and powerful, with the bloodline to match. Conveniently allied already to all those people who had replaced the Old Guard in government! How very serendipitous. That those positions should just... open up, like that. That he just HAPPEN to have such qualified people at the ready.

What ARE the odds?

My House knew our monster know. We watched. Careful. As he smiled and smiled. One hand open in welcome, the other? Holding a knife, hidden just out of sight. The king saw him for what he was. And the monster saw a worthy foe in the king. They were, after all, both very Dangerous men.

It was likely swordsmen duel.

Deadly steel clashing, shining, swift as it dances, from attack to defend to attack again. Experience versus youth. Power against power. The king was an old dragon, stood against a tiger come to see him dead. And though the dance was breathtaking? In the end... the dragon was old. Tired. And not the man he had once been.

The tiger won.

The king died in his sleep. Of... natural causes. No one believed it. No one dared say otherwise. The crown princess ascended the throne. She had played the game well. Taken after her Father. Been neglected in favor of her idiot brothers. In the Story, she was to be married off. A side character never to be heard from again.

It seems she was not content with such a fate.

Now she was Queen.

My family and I applauded. Polite. I hoped it marked the end of the strangeness. So many had died. So much had changed. Surely... surely it was over, wasn't it? But then? In the cold light of the early morning hours? A letter. Pristine and on a fine paper. Sat like a viper upon the table before us. A bomb.

My Father had stared at it, over steepled hands, like if he glared long enough? It would simply catch fire and burn away. The Monster's crest. Pressed lovingly into the wax. What... what did That Man want with us?

I watched him grit him teeth. Run his letter opener through paper like he was imagining jerking it across flesh, slitting the bastards throat for DARING to threaten his family. I held my mother's hand as he read. Watched his grip on the pages go white knuckled.

He didn't even tell a servant to burn it.

He slammed his chair back, in a terrible fury, and marched straight to the nearest fireplace to consign the letter to the flames. Over his dead body. Was his announcement. I... I had a terrible feeling it might be, whatever was on those pages.

The letters kept coming.

My Father burned them all.

Then? Trouble started.

And I did not need to see history twice, to know how it would end. I got up early. Waited near the damn GATES. My Father could not burn the letter before I read it, if I was there first. It... it was a marriage proposal. I... I did not understand. Why? For what POSSIBLE reason would he...?

It did not matter though, ultimately. I would be saying yes.

For my family? Anything.

And so I packed. My Father knew he couldn't stop me. I was entirely too much his daughter. It was why he had burned the letters. I was doing exactly what he would have done. He vowed to kill him. Slowly. Held me a swore. He would make me the loviest widow to ever live. My Mother promised to go look up family recipes for poisons. For rats, of course.

I loved them so, so much.

I LOVE them even now.

It is why I sit, back straight, fragrant tea untouched, in this cold but beautiful receiving room. I wear my best dress. The one that makes me look coldly beautiful. Elegant but untouchable. I feel like a winter spirit in it. Something made of ice and bone. I wear it when I want to feel stronger. I don't know if it's helping.

If I hold myself still. Count my breathing and do not think. I can almost... ALMOST? Slip into a trance, I think. Let my mind unfocus. They are keeping me waiting. It's a power play. So be it. You will find me unaffected. Bored even, by your petty displays. I stare peacefully into nothing. A statue in a silent room.

I hope I fucking unnerve them.

Confident footsteps. How quite has it become, that I can hear them, even through the door? I do not turn my head. Note absent-mindedly that the tea before me has long grown cold. This whole damn place is cold. I dispise it. The door is opened for the master of this house. I pointedly do not greet him.

"Aaah~, So COLD" He sing song's, almost chiding, it'd be nearly playful if not for the hint of something darker threaded through his voice. He has an almost victorious little bounce to his step as he approaches. "But then again, I already knew that, didn't I? Frigid, untouchable, and unfeeling~ Now? Now you're MINE~"

He laughs. There is something half disbelieving, half euphoric in the noise. Like he's finally gotten everything he's ever wanted and doesn't know what to DO with himself. He invades my space. Looms. Eyes a touch too wide as he stares. Drinking in the sight of me sitting before him, like he can't believe it's real.

"Do you know, snowdrop? How long it TOOK? What I had to DO to achieve this? Ha ha!" The grin that spills across his feature is unhinged. All I can do is sit, tense and frozen before a madman, as he speaks. "The WHINING, the COMPLAINING, the 'what about meeeee'~! They never shut UP! Wretched and pathetic to the last, they panted after you like DOGS."

Hands slid from his pockets, to come to rest on either side of me on the arm rests, bracing and caging me in. Trapping me as he leaned down. Entirely too close. He smelled like winter air, sharp but clean. His eyes were a blue grey so hauntingly pale, they seemed to bore straight into the soul.

"But they were so GREEDY. So DESPERATE for power. It was EASY, to play them like fools against each other. Make them DANCE. And worth it. Because I get what I wanted~ The brat get her silly little throne, and you?" His grin was all teeth. One hand coming up to rest on my head. "Now you can NEVER escape me."

The hand slid, slow and fingers splayed, downwards. Possessive as each finger brushed, stroked, the side of my face. My jaw. My neck. His eyes following it down with something that could only be blatant lust. His grip tightened around my neck. Not enough to choke. Just, it seemed, to prove to himself that he COULD.

His thumb rest again my pulse, facinated.

Sliding back up to cup my chin, gently forcing my head up, so I had no choice but to meet his eyes. His eyes were dilated. I glared.

"I am going to RUIN you." He whispered, sounding entirely too reverent. As though it were some act of worship he had planned. "Take you apart at the seams. Pretty, pretty little thing. Mine, all mine~"

"I saw you first, you know. You couldn't even be bothered to look at me. I tried all night. That's when I KNEW. I was going to hunt you down. MAKE you mine. Marry you and destroy anyone and anything that stood in my way. And I DID~♡"

"I'm going to have each and every part of you, Darling. Love you and love you until you can't HELP but love me back. We are going to be BEAUTIFUL together. You don't have a choice~♡"

[ambrozjas]

hiiii could i request sfw sleeping w/ dallas or just relaxing w him in bed 😛

“can you, like, crank your body temperature lower? you’re like a fuckin’ furnace.” a thick new york accent hit your ears, an accent that could belong to someone no other than dallas winston. despite his snarky comments and jabs, he had you snug against his side with an arm wrapped around you and his head turned to the side, his one act of compliance. he knew you hated when he blew smoke in your face.

“i’m not a robot, dal.” you stated calmly, your eyes still closed as you didn’t feel him stiffen under you. if he really had a problem with it, he would’ve shoved you off a while ago.

he simply huffed. you hummed as it got quiet for a bit, the only noise radiating off of the small television in the front of your room as it played an old recording of ‘the andy griffith show’, which dallas only sat through because you liked it so much.

even though he had claimed to hate the show, it never failed to have him sat in front of the tv with his eyes glued to the screen. he claimed it was because, “there’s nothin’ to do ‘round here” but you knew dally. that was just a ruse, another way of accepting a part of you into his life slowly but surely, breaking down the walls he had so carefully placed after sylvia had penetrated them with her unfaithful behavior.

dallas always had an itch, an itch he could never scratch. he wasn’t sure what for or how this itch developed. all he knew was that he needed to scratch it. one way to look at it is; just like someone who couldn’t put sunscreen on their back, dallas could never reach this itch. no matter how much he smoked or stole or got thrown in the cooler, he could never scratch it.

dally could also never shut up.

“at least change this thing? i can’t stand watching—“

you groaned and flipped over out of his grasp, covering your ears and returning back to your fetal position as he chuckled. dallas liked making you tick. it was like a dog cocking its head at a strange noise, he watched you with intense eyes as he studied your facial expressions. dal always took mental notes, even if you didn’t think he did.

dallas leaned back against the assortment of pillows you had displayed on your bed, eyes still glued to you and a smile still evident on his face. maybe you could scratch this itch that dallas always craves to scratch, maybe you can complete the empty space that remained in him. maybe he’d actually give you a chance, he thought.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ stip because why do i always add these metaphors that don’t maje sense in my writng

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[kaigarax]

Threads of Affection Masterlist

A series of films featuring Hollywood's leading lady, you, and all your handsome co-stars. Rumors run rampant, especially when your chemistry on screen is undeniable. Nothing is confirmed but at least everyone gets to watch some (cheesy) cute movies. Enjoy you, (Y/n) (L/n), in these 10 different chick flicks featuring classic romance writing tropes in classic romantic writing settings~

The Summer I Met You (coming soon...) First Love x Flower Shop AU Komori Motoya finds his summer plans ruined when his parents drag him over to his grandparents' home for the summer where absolutely nothing happens and practically no one lives. This summer feels like just any other for (L/n) (Y/n). Helping around the garden; taking care of her younger siblings; and getting ready for the next school year ahead. When fate brings the two of them together one can't help but wonder if something more could blossom.

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content

Rewriting Our Story (coming soon) Second Chance x Wedding AU After building a successful life in the city for herself, (Y/n) (L/n) makes her way back home to celebrate the wedding of her best friend where she runs into the boy that broke her heart. Porco Galliard didn't want to leave but what other choice did he have but to join the military when his family was in desperate need of some extra income? Can the two of them overcome their differences or risk ruining the happy wedding?

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

It Was Always You (coming soon) Friends-to-Lovers x School (Rooftop) AU People had always told Sabito that life moves faster the older you get. He just didn't realize how much faster until it's the final week before you go off to university and he has yet to confess his feelings. (Y/n) has spent the entirety if her high school life preparing for univeristy. Everything has gone perfectly. The only thing left now is to figure out why her best friend, Sabito, keeps on avoiding her. Can Sabito muster up the courage to confess his love or will it forever remain unrequited?

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

The Distance Between Us (coming soon) Aloof Couple x Bar AU Everyone has always known that Sero Hanta and (L/n) (Y/n) were madly in love with one another... expect for the two of them. Their friends embark on a seemingly impossible task as they attempt to get the unknowing couple to finally admit their feelings for one another. It's only a matter of time before they finally get the hint, right?

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

Fake It 'Til You Feel It (coming soon) Fake Dating x Traveling AU Asagiri Gen, playboy extraordinaire, finds himself in need of a fake girlfriend after accidently getting into a scandal. So he finds himself enlisting the help of you, (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n) wasn't exactly sure what to think of when she was approached by Gen but the idea of a free trip around the world was enough to get her to agree. Besides, what's the worst that could go wrong? No kissing; no intimacy; and most certainly no feelings involved. Which isn't a problem until Gen finds himself wanting to break all of those stupid rules that he himself made up.

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

Make Me Fall For You (coming soon) Betting x Coffee Shop AU Everyone on campus knows that Geto Suguru could have whoever he wants. It's so well known that his friends decide to make a bet to see how long it takes for him to woo the girl that walks through those doors next. (L/n) (Y/n), a quiet and respectful student, unknowingly makes a decision that will change her life forever when she chooses to take a detour for a cup of coffee and ends up walking through those doors next. Everything seems to be going according to plan for Geto expect that maybe he's actually catching feelings for you too.

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

When Worlds Collide (coming soon) Different Worlds x School (Beneath the Tree) AU Denji has never been the best student at school. Heck, he's never even really been the best at anything. But when the threat of expulsion starts to float over his head he's willing to try anything to stay in classes. Which is how he ends up meeting (Y/n) (L/n). Denji's new tutor and the school's star student. The two of them are polar opposites that can't seem to agree on anything. Luckily, (Y/n) agrees to stick it out as long as Denji willingly helps her with that dreaded extra credit assignment.

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

Our Defining Moments (coming soon) Forbidden Love x Office AU Kaku spent the enterity of his life knowing that it belonged to someone else. That everything he did was for the betterment of his nation. So, he can't help but start to think that something has gone wrong with him when all of his thoughts find themselves centering around a single woman. Is his heart supposed to beat as erratically as this? Is it normal to stutter this much? (Y/n) (L/n) just wants to do her best. She loves her family and she loves her job. Plus, it helps that her new partner at work is easy on the eyes.

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

Beat You To Getting Better (coming soon) Rivals x Business AU (L/n) (Y/n) lived her entire life knowing that she would one day inherit her family's business and take over. This of course leads to her fostering a hatred against whoever happened to be on the other side. Gojo Satoru just so happens to be on the other side and can't stand (Y/n). Especially when she happens to be fighting for everything that he's trying to get away from. The two of them end up stuck together after a mix up for an extended period of time and find they might just have more in common then they initially thought.

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

Memories of You and I (coming soon) Childhood Friends x Going Back Home AU Julian Loki and (Y/n) (L/n) were inseparable as children. One never found without the other. Of course, like all good things, the friendship eventually comes to an end when Loki has to move away. Years later (Y/n) and Loki run into one another again but it seems like many things have changed. Can the two of them overcome their differences and rekindle their friendship or will the time apart prove to be too vast a distance to overcome?

Bonus Behind the Scenes Content (coming soon)

[mmmangel]

need.. ghoap x civilian reader. dry humor office au.. angsty closed off reader. angsty misunderstood miscommunication aloof simon. Johnny of course open with his feeling and communicates and Understands™ simon and reader.

[sukunasweetheart]

I CANT BELIEVE BULLYKUNA IS WINNING??? YALL FW BULLIES LIKE THAT?? 🤨🤨🤨🫣🫣🫣🫣 (me too)

[spilledstars1234]

Here’s a writing excerpt of my ocs! For context, there are two characters named Shi and Sei, the former a goddess of death, the latter the god of life. They are both twins, and reside in Heaven, until circumstances led them to go down to Earth, a place they have never really gone down to. While on Earth, they pretend that they're humans/school students. (and... ahem, Lucifer is in this, and has also decided to go down to Earth, purely just to mess with Shi because he has nothing better to do <3. As for his connection with the twins, well he is a long time acquaintance of Shi. This is written in Shi's pov.)

This probably won't make any sense, but eh, I felt like leaving it on this blog anyway!

“Shiiiiii!” Sei’s voice called out. I turned, and saw him racing towards me out of the school building as the school bell rang, waving. Before I could say anything, he grabbed me into an embrace. “I missed you. Sitting in the school all alone makes me sad, since you skip often.”

“You could try to make an effort to make friends, you know,” I pointed out. I placed my arms around him. Wait, that’s how hugs work, right? I wondered. I wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it had been so long since I’d received one for me to remember. 

“Yeah, well I do try,” he says, pouting. I smirked at the expression; he looked so much like a child. Once I figure out how phones work, I’ll snap a photo. 

“But nobody even comes near me,” he continued. “I’d so much as approach them and they’d go red in the face— regardless if it’s a boy or girl— saying that they had something to do, and then they’d run off. I don’t get it. Am I doing something wrong?”

I snorted. For such a tall and good-looking man like himself, it’s a surprise that he wasn’t making a lot of friends. But I couldn’t tell him that they’d all run away because of his looks.

“Surely the girls would be all over you?” I inquired, patting his hair absentmindedly.

“See that’s what I thought, too. But no! They all just run away.” He lets me go and shoves his hands in his pockets, hunching over.

“If you just talk to them casually, maybe throw in a few shiny smiles—ones that show your teeth, people love pretty smiles like that— then maybe you’ll be able to achieve the feat of ‘making friends.’” I made air quotes. 

“Oh, and continue slouching like that and I’ll be able to reach your height,” I teased. “Plus, girls like a guy who doesn’t slouch. I read somewhere that standing straighter makes you look—and feel!—more confident!” No, no I didn’t. That was all a lie. I made all that up literally right now. But oh well, he doesn’t need to know that.

He made a hmph! expression and straightened his back so he was back to being a skyscraper that reached above the clouds. Sei kicked at a nonexistent pebble and asked, “Am I intimidating? Maybe that’s it?”

This startled a laugh out of me. “Intimidating? You??? You’re as intimidating as a, what, a puppy!”

“Shiiii,” he whined, with an expression that further contributed to my comparison, “maybe I’m just not approachable?”

“Don’t be silly! You’re as approachable as a—” Before I could make another stupid simile, a voice called out, “Heyy, over here!” Me and Sei both turned, and spotted a few boys entering the school, waving. The one they had called out to was obviously Sei. 

Sei turned to me, his eyes sparkling like he just won the lottery. Again I wished I knew how phones worked. I added that to the top of my mental to-do-list for the day. 

“This is it, Shi! This is my moment!” He says, sounding like he was the main character pulled straight out of a coming-of-age novel. (Which was a lie, considering that I’m the main character, of course.)

“Well, I’m off! Wish me luck!” He exclaimed, looking as though he might burst into happy tears from excitement. He leaned over, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and dashed off after the group of boys.

“Don’t get too excited, or you might make a complete fool of yourself!” I called after him, to which he replied with a few choice words that I might chide him about later.

I stood there staring for a while. If I was willing to admit it aloud, I would say that I was happy for him. 

“And he’s off,” I said to myself.

“Indeed he is,” says a voice behind me. 

I don’t have to turn to know who it is. “Luci, you’re always appearing at the most random times,” I said, crossing my arms. 

Without even looking, I could immediately tell he rolled his eyes upon hearing that nickname. It was funny, though. While in Hell, he would always snap at people who referred to him by other names or nicknames, saying he should only be called “Lucifer” by every individual in Hell, but he never once corrected me whenever I used my little nickname for him. “Ah, but that makes it all the more fun. Creates an air of surprise, don’t you agree?” 

I turned to face him. He used a human form while on Earth, which was drastically different from his demon form that he had in Hell. He had long dark hair that went down his back, and wore a white, long sleeved, ruffled shirt with loose, billowing sleeves, the outfit complete with a pair of matching gloves.

I circled around him, scanning his clothes for bloodstains, and found none. I slow-clapped and let out a low whistle, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I said, “Congratulations Luci, you’ve gone a full week without killing anyone! This must be a new record!” Or if he did, he was more careful about not getting it on his clothes… I don’t voice my thoughts, though.

He nods, like he’s proud of himself for accomplishing such a feat. “It’s incredible, really.” He then frowned. “So, when are you going to start using the advice you provided to your brother on yourself?”

I blinked. “Uh, never?”

Lucifer scoffed. “Well, you should. You’re always alone and you haven’t bothered to even try to make any friends. You’re just walking around at that school all by yourself, with your head down, always fiddling with your hands to make it seem like you’re busy, talking to no one.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Luci, you noticed all those little, insignificant things about me? All those small little mannerisms and behaviors I do without even me realizing it? Could it be that… are you…worried about me?” I asked gleefully.

“No,” he snaps, “I just think that you’re a loner, and that’s kind of sad.”

Ouch! That hit like an arrow straight to the heart! This jerk, he’s never been anything but cruel to me ever since we first met!

I frowned, then smirked. Even if he is a jerk, well, he’s my jerk! I linked my arm through his, secretly glad that he didn’t pull away. “Well, at least I have you, right Luci?”

He rolled his eyes. “If you say so.”

I began walking, with him reluctantly following. “Say, Luci, we should go celebrate. How about we buy a cake with the words ‘The Loners,’ on it??”

 I waved my hands airily, painting a picture in me and Lucifer’s minds: a romantic setting, perhaps at sunset, where me and Lucifer would sit together at the docks by the seaside, sharing a cake that we ordered from the store. He would joke about how we were both loners, to which I’d agree, considering that was the truth. Then, maybe if I was lucky, I could somehow use my smooth talking to make him feed me spoonfuls of the cake, like how couples did in movies. Then, maybe if I was even more lucky, I would manage to make Lucifer fall head over heels for me— even though that could hardly be possible at all in reality, since he always acted like he hated me and was the most stoic person ever. And maybe, if I was extremely lucky, there might even be a kiss, just as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, its last remaining rays of light glistening over the surface of the ocean…

“But I’m not the loner, you are. I have plenty of friends in Hell.”

Damn. There goes my daydream, shattered. “You mean associates. Or henchmen. Or even minions,” I replied coldly.

“Yeah, they’re the same thing as friends.”

“Yeah…I beg to differ.”

He sighed and gave up, letting me drag him to wherever we were heading to.

“So, are we still getting that cake?” I asked.

“You were serious about that?” He glanced at my grinning face, which gave him the answer to his question, and raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t—”

“But I’ll ask them to make it black-colored, just for you! Oh, annnnd I’ll request red icing, Your Evilness! What do you think?” I wiggled my eyebrows, grinning.

He makes a sound that almost, almost sounds like a laugh. I feel my smile widening. Was it possible that I, a person he always acted like he hated, managed to make him laugh, even when nobody else ever could? Even when he’s never laughed ever since he got cast down from Heaven? Sounds like some character development! Maybe I should use stupid nicknames more often, it seemed to have caught him off guard… Mentally, I took note of that.

“You’re insufferable,” he says finally.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

“Well—”

“Oh, and also! I’ve got the best idea! I’ll ask the employees to circle around you and sing in front of everyone. They’ll come parading in a line, marching from the kitchen, single file, and then when they reach you they’ll burst into song, ‘Hooray, hooray, today is a special day for the looooonerrrs!’”

“If you tell them to do that I’ll bury you alive,” he says calmly, “ And I’ll have you know that you’re a terrible singer.”

“You’re too kind, Luci!”

“Don’t you have class?” He asked, in an attempt to change the subject. I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s not for another three hours, and it’s not like I really have to attend those useless school classes, ‘cause, you know, I’m not exactly a human. Don’t try to get away from the original topic, Luci! We’re getting that cake, and you’re gonna like it!”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll shove it down your throat until you do!”

“Ah. I’m even more excited.” I didn’t think it was possible for a voice to sound this monotone.

I unlinked my arm from his to reach over. I brought the corners of his mouth up with my fingers, so it looked like he was smiling. I let go of him, linked my arm back through his, and said, “You should smile more, Luci. You might look more approachable that way.”

“Like this?” He forced a smile that made me wish so badly that I knew how to use a phone. I howled with laughter, giggling so hard that my eyes teared up. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a phone Sei had given me a few weeks ago. “Luci”— I could barely speak through my laughter— “do you know how to take photos with this?” I tried to sound as casual as I could.

“What? You really are an idiot. I thought you at least knew the basics of human technology, yet it seems like you don’t,” he says with a look that reads you’re hopeless. “Give it here.”

“Nope, I’m still using ink and letters,” I said truthfully. I handed the phone to him, and he explained how it worked.

“Look see, you press this… and then this… and then that, and there you go!” There was a snapping sound like a camera click. 

“Okay, thanks!” I took the phone back, held it up, and said, “Do that smile again!”

“Huh? Why?” His voice was suspicious.

“Just do it!”

“You’re going to take a photo of me, aren’t you?”

“No, I swear!” I said earnestly, crossing my heart.

“Oh, all right. Since you promised.” He smiled again.

Click!

Uh-oh! Forgot to turn off the flash! I think to myself.

Lucifer stared at me for several long seconds. He looked betrayed, like he couldn’t believe I would do that after promising I wouldn’t. He stood there, unmoving—

Until he made a dive for the phone!

I spun out of the way, cackling as I dashed away, Lucifer running after me.

Quick as a flash, I sent the picture to Sei, with a message that read,

Don’t question the photo. Just send it to all the extra phones you have lying around the house. This is the perfect blackmail material for a certain someone.

There. That way if Luci did try to delete it, Sei would still have it. 

Lucifer caught up to me. I turned to him and said, “I’ll delete it if you agree to get that cake with me.”

He rolled his eyes. After several minutes of contemplating, he finally said, “Fine.”

I pumped my fist into the air, almost dropping my phone in the process. I noticed the screen light up with a notification. I pressed on it, and saw that it was a message from Sei, which read,

Blackmail material for who exactly? 

To which I replied,

Don’t worry about it.

Which actually meant, ‘keep asking and I’ll pound your face in when I see you next.’ I know, I’m a loving sister!

I wondered why he asked who it was. Didn’t he recognize him from seeing him at God’s council meetings back in Heaven? 

Oh wait. I forgot he was using another form at the moment, and didn’t currently look like how he looked in Hell. That’s probably why.

Okay…don’t kill anyone pls, Sei replied, interrupting me from my thoughts. I was just about to reply when he added another message underneath it,

and if u do…well just don’t get any blood on your clothes. 

You’re too kind for enabling me! I replied. I hear breathing somewhere next to my ear and turn my head, barely noticing Lucifer peering over my shoulder, his eyes moving left to right as he reads my messages.

I switched off my phone, eyeing him. He didn’t bother lying and said, “I thought you were just the nutcase, but your brother is exactly like you!”

“Thank you for the compliments, Luci. I’ll be sure to let Sei know that next time I talk to him~” 

He shakes his head. “You’re hopeless.”

(Let me know what you think of it or if you’d like to see more <3.)

[rindough]

yeah sure!! can i be 💫 anon? if that one's taken 🎲 anon is also fine!

also Salvation Army by Harrison Whitford reminds me of so many characters... specifically tho it makes me think of Acheron having a s/o that she left behind but really it fits with anyone who would reminisce on a lost childhood/past and the people in it (wow that's a lot of the HSR cast huh)

assigneddd!!! ure now the bling bling anon :DD

ngl i also think that this song suits a lot or any character *calls entire hsr cast to go on set* well for me atm, i can envision this song with acheron, let's say you resided in xian zhou luo fu, a chef for a stall that many loved to frequent to.

the rain sometimes poured above your stall's shelter, and accompanied with the chitter chatter of your regulars? it only add more weight to your heavy heart that had to bear the weight of your lover leaving.

no one would want their lover to leave to venture out into the unknown, even if their lover had to, nobody would wish for them to venture into the haze only to never come back. everybody wants them to come home, safe and sound.

but why hasn't she come through the doorstep yet? why isn't there any "babe, i'm home!" in the quiet of your home.

the slit in your heart, it deepens at each creak you caused when your feet lands the old wooden floor, it aches dully in your chest at every window you open, only for cold wind to rush in. it aches at every sunrise and sunset.

it's not like acheron left you for good, but for some reason, this time when she had left to go on a mission. the kiss she places on your forehead was chaste, her mind on edge and her voice perhaps a little too sharp for your everyday conversation.

"i'm leaving now," she looks at you, hands firmly holding your shoulders in place, the morning air filling into your traditional home, the soft rumble of thunder sounding from far away. without warning, you tip toed and place a kiss on her lips, pulling her into a hug afterwards. acheron wraps her arms around you, a hand stroking the crown of your head as if she was trying to soothe you.

she'll be gone for a while, she doesn't want to leave you, but she had to. she need to get that income for the two of you.

but to make this much more easier to overcome, this moment when the two of you part, again... she decides to act a little colder, a little distant but honestly she came to realised later in penacony that it wouldn't make sense... given that you've been dating since a decade ago. she sometimes would face palm herself when she realises how confused you might be after that farewell, she blames herself for getting a little too caught up in those soap operas you two would watch at night.

acheron quietly makes a sharp turn in the alley of golden hour, sounds of puking and laughter not that far behind her. a few more steps and the hotel door was illuminating brightly in front of her. she longs for you, she misses your touch. thankfully it's the final commission for her current journey, time went by so fast, she couldn't count how many days or weeks have gone past. but she was sure it wasn't years away from you, speaking of you... you must've missed her dearly in your house. she enters a room after being redirected by the trailblazer, settling down into the tub. she closes her eyes, hopefully waiting for a different reality to wake her up, a reality that she is familiar with.

darkness washes over her, she could date back to that specific moment when she felt her heart doing summersaults and butterflies creeping up her stomach that she'd mistaken it to be a case of caffeine overload. she remembered the crash that accompanied shortly after you called out to her under the warm light of the lamppost in xian zhou luo fu. that night was a mere reunion for friends who had grown up together, but for some reason, she's here, just to accompany you to attend this meetup, even though she knows nuts about your childhood friends.

you weren't aware of her background back then and she couldn't blame you, she had just arrived to the area, got to know you for the sake of a mission, but somehow, found herself overstaying in the planet. boothill had called her to return for some other 'irrelevant' businesses but she couldn't be bothered. being here, in this bustling town, with you by her side, learning what had made up your childhood, how you do things here in this planet, what the people here enjoy the most... it all reminded her of warmth... like a home... something that she couldn't remember or understand about.

acheron feels as if she could be herself around you, breaking down that cold and mysterious demeanor that she displays on every visit to many different planets. so when you invited her out for this meetup as a plus one, she couldn't deny it. she wants to savor, to capture every single chance to get and stay close to someone she calls 'home'.

so that night, she realises something, but nothing good.

overstaying is one thing, but what if she *had* to leave one day, what if she was forced to leave? that wouldn't appear good to you nor her. who knows she would face a penalty? or what if... the way she's this attached to you, she could get in trouble, you could get in trouble.

so she did what she had to do, pulled you aside and told you that she's leaving tomorrow. and when you called out to her that night, disbelief written all over your face, eyes on the verge of tears at the fact that she'll be leaving not soon but tomorrow? she can't blame you for making her want to lean in, to press her lips against yours under the warm yet quiet night. to make you understand what she thinks of you.

when she opens her eyes once more, body floating in the dream tub, she raises a hand up, admiring the way it glistens under the light behind her.

she was determined to head back to you, in the comfort of your family home, into the warmth of your arms.

--;

©  2024 rindough, do not repost or plagiarize.

[keikiro333]

dw guys, it's just the tism in him

cw: mentions of oral sex, first date with Simon Riley, Simon is very awkward, drabble

Simon Riley being such an awkward and blunt individual when it comes to dating- it freaks you out because you don't know where you stand. In the SAS, Simon was a cold-hearted bugger, even to his own team. There was little they knew about him and he liked to keep it that way because when things were private they were easier to deal with. What would the point even be filling his teammates, co-workers, in on private matters?

He was impassive. Socially awkward but not in the shy, anxious way people would assume. He could never read the room or bring himself to give a shit, he did what he wanted and took little to no notice of what others though. It sounded fine, and for the most part it was.

But dating was fucking hard- being paired up with real whiny, bitchy women who would just complain over every minuscule thing- fucking hell, he wasn't a goddamn therapist. He didn't have time for people like that- his job showed him how short and vague life can be and he wasn't letting anyone waste his valuable minutes. He hated dating, hated putting himself out there just to come back home and sight in relief at the emptiness- he hated everything about it until he went out with you.

Your first online interaction was a mess of you trying to use some god-awful pick-up line that everyone aside from Simon could comprehend. 'What that mean?' and 'Ok.' Being your only two responses and what the hell, you were intrigued. He was just so- cutting? So rambunctiously dull in a careless manner, you couldn't help but wonder what he was life in real life. And after a few more messages back and fourth, there was no need to wonder anymore.

You drove to the restaurant you were meeting at yourself as he didn't even offer to come pick you up. His overwhelming chivalry and charm, clearly seeping in through his actions already! But honestly you were glad that he didn't. It gave you an exit just in case the date was bad and you just had to leave. Driving there yourself on the first date wasn't anything out of the norm anyway but you were used to men offering most of the time.

You greeted each other at the entrance and you were not expecting from a few blurry selfies of him to be so tall and jacked. Muscles only just squeezing out the armholes of his shirt as he nodded to you and walked inside. Not opening the door for your or even bothering to hold it after himself- nope. Just walking inside as casual as he can be; you couldn't contain your laugh.

He ordered what he wanted to eat, letting you order what you liked as well and the two of you finally got to talking. You shared things about yourself, listened to his deep, gruffly voice share things about him and honestly- it was probably the weirdest yet the best date you had ever been on.

You weren't used to people being like this and it made you surprisingly comfortable and not so on edge as usual. There had been dates that you had gone on that you thought were great; you felt a connection, they said they reciprocated but after it was over ghosted and blocked you for some reason. It hurt you every time and with Simon, you felt like that wouldn't be the case. He seemed like the kind of person that wouldn't mess about and wouldn't still be at the table if he felt nothing.

The food came and Simon dug straight into his steak. Your cheeks warming slightly at all the people sat around the two of you, eating softly, chuckling and sipping on red wine meanwhile Simon just enjoyed himself. His chin was dripping from the juice, fingers messy because despite the knife and fork he made an attempt to use- it was just easier with his hands. Deep brown eyes catching your own and blinking in confusion. His chest fluttered at the sound of your chuckle, a small smirk inching onto his face and he hadn't felt this relaxed with someone in months. He hadn't felt able to be himself.

The dinner went on as you swallowed and picked at your food, not wanting to scare him away or embarrass yourself which was stupid given how messily and carelessly he ate. You knew he probably wouldn't care at all but still- you did it anyway. Looking up at him as you placed your fork in your mouth, catching him sucking his fingers clean. Fucking hot. The lighting was so warm- and suddenly the room felt burning hot. The electricity between the two of you, high voltage and you bit your bashful smile down. Stomach aching in arousal as he sat back in his chair watching the way your lips chewed and swallowed.

"I want to eat you out."

And you almost choked. It was so calm, so nonchalant as it practically just leaked from his mouth. No awareness, no worry for who else might have heard him say that- simply just placing his cards upon the table and informing you of what he was thinking about. Horror coating his face as he saw you splutter and choke on your words, mouth agape in shock. He didn't mean to say anything wrong- he thought that was how it was supposed to go, was it not?

Handing you a napkin and sitting forward a little more as he apologised with a guilty smile. You shook your head, mind still spinning from his words and body boiling with a newfound sexual desire. Sipping on the glass of your drink to calm yourself as you assured him it was fine, telling him it was no big deal.

But, holy fuck.

[pedrasacorn]

i’d prefer to write Jason a bit more reserved but everything i make is purely indulgent because i need him <\3

[livinghostly]

mayhem is so vamp!reader coded it’s not even funny

[chuluoyi]

my boyfriend will kick your ass !

- fushiguro megumi x reader

it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?

genre/warnings: tw. street harassment, catcalling. hurt/comfort, arguments and reconciliation, protective!megumi and fluff !

note: i miss my emo boi :(

general masterlist

“Stay back!”

This is an utter plot twist. When you came out of your apartment today, all dolled up and ready to go on a date with your boyfriend, you never imagined you’d end up cornered by two creeps in a deserted alley.

“Easy, girl,” one of the guys in front of you cackled, lips curling into an unsettling sneer. “We’re just trying to get to know you better!”

“Listen— My boyfriend is super scary, you know!” you barked, willing yourself not to shake. “Now you better not come any closer or else—!”

“Or else what?” the other creep mocked with a snort. You gripped your umbrella—now your makeshift weapon—tightly, pointing it at him as a threat.

“Or else my boyfriend will be here in any minute and he’ll kick your ass!”

It was a partly a lie you hoped sounded convincing, because how could Megumi suddenly show up and find you in this dingy alleyway... right after both of you had a petty disagreement in the middle of Shibuya's shopping district?

Oh lord, how you regretted raising your voice and running away from him earlier.

"You are late!" you scolded him heatedly as he yawned, showing up twenty minutes later than your agreed time. "Can't you at least text me beforehand? I'll match your time if you do!"

Megumi sighed, fixing you with a blank stare as he scratched his head. "My bad. I overslept. I rushed here so didn't think of it."

It was so easy for him to say, and you would've understood if it was the first time, but you had noticed this pattern over the past two weeks. Whenever you asked him out for dates, his face always soured, and he didn't bother to be on time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reluctantly agreeing.

And by this point, you thought you knew better and that was really it.

Finally, you blurted out the burning accusation: "You never realize it, but it shows, you know? You never seem happy when we go out together."

He exhaled in exasperation, green eyes darkening at you. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly that."

It seemed he had run out of patience. Standing your ground, you braced for his next words. But the glare he sent your way and the words he spat pierced your tender heart more than you thought—

"You're always nagging. Can't you stop being annoying just once? What a pain."

Perhaps he was right, you were annoying him all this time and dealing with you was a pain. You could imagine it if you were in his place, but you couldn't handle the very implication that you had done so, and you screamed at his face:

"So be it then! Fushiguro, you are the worst!"

—and ran off with tears in your eyes, deserting him altogether.

You knew you weren’t exactly a model of maturity, but in your defense, it stung deeply that he saw you as annoying and a pain. What girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt by that?

Anyhow, you loitered near the Shibuya station afterwards, and at first you heard some catcalls you didn't really pay mind to. But when those two guys started whistling and edging closer, it hit you—you were their target.

You quickened your pace, turning down several corners, only to find yourself trapped in a dead end. Just how much worse could your day get?

"Aha, the girl says she has a boyfriend!" Creep #1 snickered, turning to Creep #2 with a smirk, before pretending to scan the area. "But I don’t see him?"

"Miss, I swear we’re not up to any trouble," Creep #2 chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "Won’t you be our friend? You’re too pretty to be alone—this is Shibuya, after all!" he said, eyeing your legs and whistled. "And ooh, have I told you that skirt suits you well?"

These guys were straight-up perverts!

"Get lost!" you yelled, your fingers trembling as you swung the umbrella at him when he tried to close the distance. "Can’t you just leave me alone?!"

You were at your wits' end, and it was clear this situation wasn’t going to improve with them still blocking your way. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decided to do the only thing you could.

In hindsight, a stupid move—

You barreled towards the two of them with your umbrella—managing to push past them. For a moment, you thought you had a chance and ran as fast as you could—

"Ack!" —until you tripped and crashed on the ground.

You rose and immediately winced, looking down at the site where it hurt the most. Oh, you had scrapped your knees badly.

"Ahh, miss! Don't be too hasty~!" you heard the second guy's sing-song voice, and you really wanted to cry. Why did this have to happen to you?

"Don't come c-closer!" you stammered, backing away as they approached. Your whole body shook, desperately trying to think of ways to save yourself. "Or— I'll scream!"

"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute! Why don't you just—"

You really thought you would scream, until suddenly the familiar scent of mint filled your sense and a strong arm pulled you from behind, and a broad back shielded your view from them—

"What do you need from her?" Megumi's voice boomed, his eyes glaring at the two men who had been harassing you. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way here. "Fuck off."

At that moment, you couldn't help clutching his sleeve, hiding behind him further as you kept trembling. Megumi sensed it, and turned over to have a look over you—

You looked disheveled, spooked, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood trailing down both of your knees.

"Hey man, your girlfriend practically asked for it! Just look how she is dressed—"

Before you could process what was happening, Megumi had yanked the man by his collar and thrown a punch at him. You yelped and immediately got a hold of his arm to stop him further. "Megumi!"

The other guy quickly caught his friend, who spat out a string of curses, his lips bloodied from the punch.

"Fuck. Off." Megumi glowered at them, and they finally got the message, scurrying away in hurry. The moment they did, he faced you again and you finally let out a sob, throwing yourself into him. His body was warm, his heart pounding hard— yet it meant reassurance for you.

"Are you okay...?" his voice was noticeably softer as he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. "Did they touch you—?"

Megumi froze when he felt his chest dampen with your tears and heard your sniffles, your figure shaking like a leaf in his embrace. A wave of guilt washed over him, realizing how scared you must have been. Instinctively, he held you tighter.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. It was as if there was an invincible knife that twisted his chest when it dawned on him what you just got into. "I'm here now, okay? You're safe now."

If it weren’t for his harsh words earlier, you wouldn’t have run off. He kept shushing you, his own heart breaking at the turn of events.

And when you nodded against him, he knew he had to make it up to you somehow.

Later, Megumi tended to your minor injury while crouching down before you, as you sat on a bench near the convenience store where he had picked up the first aid kit.

Your eyes were swollen, your outfit was dirtied, but you ignored the curious looks from passersby. Still shaken, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap.

You recoiled when the disinfectant touched your torn skin, tears welling up again in your eyes. "Ow..."

"It'll hurt just a bit," Megumi looked up at you worriedly, seeing you struggling to hold back tears. He gently blew air on your wound. "It’ll be over soon."

Megumi noticed how you were uncharacteristically quiet. Between the two of you, you were the chatty one and he was the silent listener. But now, you were completely silent, and he knew it was definitely not a good sign.

And so he thought it was a good time to finally explain himself. With a sigh, he began. "I... was on back-to-back missions last week."

You glanced at him, both surprised and confused.

“I was so burnt out— that’s why I’ve been oversleeping lately. Sorry for not meeting you on time.” Megumi applied the ointment to your knees, and you stiffened from the sting. He blew air on them again to ease the discomfort.

"You never told me," you pointed out.

“Yeah, uh, sorry...” he winced. “It’s so... lame. I’ve been exhausted for a week straight whereas Itadori bounces back so easily. Stupid, I know.”

"You... didn't tell me because you don't want to look uncool?"

As soon as you worded it that way, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Megumi remained silent, looking down, and you knew that his silence was a definite yes.

Totally stupid. But exactly how Fushiguro Megumi was always wired. A part of you was exasperated, but also forgave him for it.

When he met your gaze again, he finally saw the light returning to your eyes. It was a relief to him, so he let out a small sigh and put on a strained smile.

"How did you find me anyway?" you asked quietly.

"You didn't pick up my calls. I was worried. And then I ran around until I heard your voice." His eyes narrowed into a frown. "Did they do anything to you?"

You shook your head, and Megumi let out the breath he had been holding, gripping your right hand in his. "I’m glad."

You brushed away the trace of tears on your cheeks as he finished applying band-aids to your knees, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

"Sorry for being annoying," you mumbled softly, not meeting his eyes, feeling yourself so small all of a sudden. "Will totally happen again though."

"You..." Unwittingly, he cracked a smile at your blatant remark. "Just... don’t run off again, dummy. Do it where I can see you."

He ruffled your hair gently, then intertwined your fingers with his. "And sorry... for getting mad at you too."

Your cheeks felt warm, so you looked away, puckering your lips together. "...I'm hurt. You have to make it up to me."

He hummed, the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let's go have that shaved ice you’ve been craving then."

“Huh? You remembered! But you don’t like them?”

“You like that kind of sugar dump, don’t you?”

Hand-in-hand, both of you traversed the Shibuya shopping district together. Your eyes were still puffy, but you were smiling and talking his ears off again just like you always did.

“I told those pricks my boyfriend will definitely kick their asses,” you giggled to yourself, swinging your joined hands in joy. “And you really did~”

“What are you talking about…?”

Sometimes you were beyond his comprehension. Sometimes you were also cute beyond comparison.

And Megumi thought... he liked you the best this way.

[spoopiloops]

ever since i read this i can never get out of my mind holyshit. i usually don't read fics with the mention of y/n too coz they tend to make me cringe. but i didn't mind it this time, like the story just flowed so smoothly i didn't even grasped the fact they used y/n😭 all my attention was focused on bucky. i'm entranced frfr

Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end)

Words: 2.9k++

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.

P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.

It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.

Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.

She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.

Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?

Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.

Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,

"Oh you're back?"

"How's the team?"

"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."

"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."

"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"

But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."

And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.

For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.

And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.

Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.

Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.

Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.

And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.

When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.

For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.

"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.

"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.

"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."

Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.

But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.

Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.

Something is wrong.

Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.

"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."

 "...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"

As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.

His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.

"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.

At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"

But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."

He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"

Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.

What is happening?

Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.

Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.

His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.

The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.

Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.

Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.

Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.

"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.

Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.

Will it work though?

Well, she got to have to try for it work.

She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.

When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.

The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.

However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.

There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.

"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.

But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."

The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."

Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.

But, does she?

Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.

After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.

Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.

His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."

Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.

It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.

The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.

Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.

He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.

This is not Bucky.

She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.

Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.

His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"

Fuck, it feels so good.

"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.

He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.

He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.

He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.

"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."

She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.

This is getting out of hand.

Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.

She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.

This is wrong.

This has to stop.

"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.

"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.

"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.

God, what if he doesn't care?

What if he'll get mad and force it on her?

She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.

Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.

Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.

"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.

As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.

"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.

Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.

She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.

He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.

It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.

She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.

As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.

But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.

But what if he had something to hold on to?

A hope to look forward to?

A person to protect?

Or a home to go back to?

Would he still be the same monster he had been before?

She have not a slightest clue.

But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.

And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.

Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!

[oceaneyesinla]

Help I can't decide which of the hashira would work in a blood bank and secretly skim off the supply because they're a vampire

Double help, as I'm writing this post, I'm having more ideas for this vampire AU that I might really have to write now because it's the kind of shit I spend my night shifts IN A BLOOD BANK contemplating

[spilledstars1234]

Here is yet another writing excerpt of my ocs! For context, this is a direct continuation of my last writing post about them (this one), so check that one first because reading this one would be confusing without knowing what happened previously! Also, this one is far longer than the previous one, hehe.

After we left the bakery, cake in hand—it had taken a while to get, considering it was a custom order (but it was worth it)— I asked Lucifer where we should sit to eat it.

“I’m not good at picking ‘romantic’ spots, as you call it, but since you asked me… I guess I’ll pick.” He said. “Follow me.”

‘Follow me,’ he said…the idiot. As if he didn’t already know that I’d follow him everywhere, to the ends of the earth, if I had to. 

I stopped walking for a second, barely processing what I had just thought.

Damn, am I that obsessed with him?

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” I asked, picking up my pace to keep up with him. But boy, the box in my hands was heavy. Who knew cakes were this heavy to carry?

“It’s not my first time here,” he says, raising his eyebrows at me in a way that reads, ‘Do you really question my intelligence when yours is far more lacking?’ “I know my way around.” 

After a while of walking, Lucifer stopped. “We’re here,” he says.

I looked up…then did a double take.

We were standing in front of a graveyard. Sleepwalker’s Cemetery, to be exact. Not a very fun name for a place of dead people…but oh well.

“I know this probably isn’t the best place—”

“Are you kidding??” I stared up at him, my eyes bright. “It’s the best place. Luci, I never realized how much of a romantic you actually were!”

He looked surprised, then a little flattered. “Well, what can I say? I’m naturally the best at these kinds of things, after all.” He opened the gate and let me go in first.

We walked off the cemetery’s side path and onto the grass, heading towards the graves. There were headstones upon headstones in the graveyard, some faded over the years, and others covered almost entirely with moss so that the name was illegible at that point. Lucifer scanned some tombstones beside me. 

“Nakamura Jiro,” he read, a name that was inscribed on a rather ornate looking gravestone, complete with stone seraphs and olive branches curled upon the sides of the gravestone.

Lucifer paused, frowned, then snapped his fingers. “Ah. Him. If I remember correctly, he went to Hell.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Then why the hell are there seraphs on the gravestone???”

Lucifer shrugged. “Maybe his family saw him as a good person, but in actuality he wasn’t. A lot of people don’t show others how they really are inside, and what their thoughts and feelings are about certain things. Sometimes people keep it all a secret, you know. And in Nakamura’s case…I remember he was particularly abusive to certain people outside of his home, and his family never knew he was, since he moved out at 18 and didn’t keep in contact with them…I believe he died from drug overdose, a rather boring cause of death, but anyways, you get the point.”

I read another epitaph on a nearby headstone. The gravestone’s letters were quite faded, so I had to squint to make out what it said. 

“‘Suzuki Chika. Our beloved daughter was a wise young girl, as delicate as a flower, just like her name. But flowers must always wither, and the same is to be said about life. May she rest in peace.’”

I turned back to Lucifer. “The parents seemed to have loved her. But she went to Hell, no?”

“Correct.”

“Damn. I guess we’ll just go back to your earlier point, about people being not like how they acted on the outside. Perhaps this was the case with Suzuki?”

“Perhaps.”

Another gravestone read Fujiwara Asuka. She had gone to Hell, too. Me and Lucifer went through dozens of graves, and every name was startlingly of people that went to Hell.

 Not a single person here went to Heaven.

“This place should be renamed as ‘Sinner’s Field,’ or something,” I tell Lucifer as he leads me to a bench that sat underneath a weeping willow tree. 

“It should,” he agreed, “with the amount of people from Hell in this cemetery. Not a single one from Heaven.” From his tone of voice, I couldn’t tell if he was feeling pleased or disgruntled.

We sit there in silence, the cake box between us, and the willow tree’s long, trailing branches hanging over the bench. There’s not a single person in the cemetery except us. There aren’t any sounds at all in the area, except for our own breathing. While I should have found it romantic, well, it really wasn’t, which is shocking for someone like me, who usually would deem these quiet moments alone together as such. But, no. It’s unnerving, slightly. It feels like something’s going to jump out on us, causing me to be at edge.

Lucifer cleared his throat. “We should eat the cake. It’s not going to eat itself after all.” Even though technically neither of us has to eat, I don’t point this out because I assume he just needs something to say to fill up the silence.

“You’re right,” I agree after a minute or two of staring blankly at a gravestone.

He opened the box, conjured two plates out of thin air—golden ones, typical Luci, I think—as well as two forks and a knife. I cut a slice for him and another for me.

We eat in silence. I gaze down and absentmindedly trace my fingers on the stone bench, and while the marble is cool and smooth, it was also pitted with tiny hollow marks, probably from centuries of raindrops. The wind whispers through the willow branches. Say something, it seems to tell me, stop being awkward already!

“Luc—”

“Shi,” he began, then his eyes widened when he realized I had been about to say something as well. “Oh, my apologies,” he says. Throws an extra-awkward cough in there as well, just to add to the mood. “You go first.”

“No, you,” I say, because I’m dying to know what he wanted to say. And plus, he hardly starts a conversation first with such a serious tone.

“Okay.” He frowned. Then he gets straight to the point. “What’s bothering you?”

“Um, nothing?”

“That’s a lie,” he says automatically, and I hate him because I know that he’s right.

I shove a rather large piece of cake in my mouth— very unladylike, I know, but I wanted to stall from answering as long as I could.

Finally, I had no choice. “I’m…well, I’m happy for Sei, since he’s doing well and making friends.”

“Okay…” His tone indicates for me to go on.

“And while I am glad he’s finally making friends…I can’t help but feel jealous of him.” It sounds even worse saying it aloud. I avert my eyes from Lucifer and stare down at my half-eaten cake slice.

“Why, if I may ask?” 

I glanced up at Lucifer. He didn’t look annoyed that I was unloading all my woes onto him, for which I was grateful. In fact, I could even say that he looked intrigued.

“Because, in actuality, I don’t have anyone.” It felt stupid saying it aloud. Really stupid. But Lucifer listened intently to my words, as if he really cared. So I continued:

“I mean, nobody even prays to me! I've never heard any prayers from humans on earth directed to 'Shi, the Goddess of Death'. Isn’t that…pathetic? Aren’t I pathetic? Humans see me as an evil being, even though my role is about guiding the dead to their final place to call home, the afterlife. I'm not killing anyone, or anything like that! I'm not evil! And the beings in Heaven, the gods and angels and whatnot… I’m an outcast in Heaven, because they all now see me the way the humans all do! As someone evil, even someone murderous! All I do is guide souls to the afterlife, Lucifer! I'm not... I'm not doing anything wrong, so why must they all despise me? So... Nobody wants a ‘devil’ like me in Heaven. And nothing changes on Earth, either…”

Lucifer stares at me, waiting to see if I was done or not. When I didn’t continue, he rolled his eyes.

“You’re such an idiot,” Lucifer muttered. “An idiot. A complete imbecile!” He stuck out his finger, prodding it at my face. “Listen. You. Are. Not. Pathetic!”

I stared at the finger that hovered just a few inches away from my nose. “Are you sure about that?”

He flicked my forehead. “Yes! Never say that about yourself. Never. You aren’t pathetic at all, and don’t let anyone say otherwise!”

“Oh, but what if…” I pause for a moment. “But what if said person is myself?”

“Then you’re an idiot.” 

“Cold.”

“It’s the truth. You should not think that way, not on my watch!”

All the flair and flirtatiousness I imagined for him in my stupid little daydream earlier of us eating the cake at the docks by the seaside was nowhere to be seen. His words surprised me. How did a person like him, seemingly incapable of caring, act so affected by this? Did he truly care, or was it an act? It sounded too genuine to be an act, though.

When I didn't say anything, he turned to me and said—rather aggressively— “And about your other point, about you being friendless and an outcast regardless of whether it’s in Heaven or Hell or on earth. And the answer is…well, you said it to me earlier, did you not? You said, ‘Well, at least I have you, right Luci?’”

His ability to remember things word-for-word still surprises me. I shrug. “The thing about friends, though, is that they’ll always eventually leave you,” I pointed out. “Whether it be them moving on and making other friends, therefore completely forgetting about your existence, or by death…”

“Then you’d better be glad that I’m immortal.”

I stared up at him in disbelief. Lucifer looked strange at that moment. His penetrating eyes were turned on me, furious and a bit pensive underneath his furrowed brows, seeming to be gazing straight into my inner thoughts. He was angry, it seemed, that I was brooding, but maybe a bit sad, too? Worried? Caring? Disgusted? With him, I could never tell what he was thinking. But then his words repeated in my mind, “You’d better be glad that I’m immortal.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “Luci,” I say brightly, “I never thought I’d see the day!”

Genuine confusion crossed his features. “What day?”

“You know,” I put on my best pouty I-am-the-clueless-main-character face and say, “the day that you finally fall head over heels for me!”

“‘Head over heels…?’” He casts me a bewildered glance as he sets his empty plate aside. “What does that mean?”

“You know…” I say, frustrated. And he says I’m the one who can’t understand humans. “Like lo… like love.”

Lucifer stares at me. “Lo…ve…?” He says, slowly and carefully, like a child pronouncing their first words.

“Yes,” I nodded. “‘Head over heels’ is a term used for when a person has fallen in love with someone.” Wow. What started as a simple joke turned into a history lesson. But why did he look so… perturbed?

Lucifer shook his head rapidly, once, twice, three times. “No,” he says. “No…what is…what is it? What is ‘love’?” It was a genuine question. He sounded sincerely confused. He… he actually didn’t know!

I blinked. That’s… odd. Why didn’t he know? Shouldn’t people know these things naturally?

“Well, Lucifer, love is…” I frowned. I knew what love was…but to try and give an actual definite meaning, that was difficult. I couldn’t just say, 'Love is a feeling you feel for others when you like them more than the usual amount.' That sounded… too vague. And besides, that was only the definition for romantic love! What about the other types? How could I define them all, love altogether, to sum it up as a whole? I glanced at him.

Lucifer’s expression was strange, one that I’d never seen on his face before. Even stranger than the furious expression from only minutes ago. His expression was rather troubled, desperate. I had to give him an answer.

“Love means wishing people well… to want others to be happy not for your sake, but theirs. It’s the feeling of giving things without expecting anything in return. It’s… it’s…” From the look on his face, I could tell that he couldn’t quite comprehend what I was explaining.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he mumbled, blinking slowly at me like a newborn fawn. If I wasn’t so worried about why he was so unsettled and bothered by this, I would’ve made a joke about how very endearing he looked at that very moment.

“It means to care about people, to want to protect people and keep them safe. To make sacrifices for them. It means not wanting people to be sad, and comforting them when you see that they are sad.” I tilt my head, smiling a little. “Kind of like what you were doing right now.”

“Huh?”

“You know, how you were telling me not to think of myself as pathetic, and how you were telling me that I should never feel lonely, because you’re at my side.”

Lucifer frowns. A little crease appears between his eyes. “That’s…love?” 

“Indeed.” I feel my grin widening. He’d just admitted that he loved me, without admitting it at the same time. Well, at least it’s progress!

“But.” He shook his head, his eyes darting to the gravestones, to the weeping willow overhead, and to the cake box. Never on me. It was as if he was trying to avoid my gaze.

 “But…that doesn’t seem right! I… I literally called you an idiot right after I said that! That doesn’t seem right!”

I laughed, reaching out and tilting his head a little so that his eyes were finally on me. “Luci, you’re so silly! Here, to answer that…well, take me and Sei for an example. Obviously, we have our squabbles from time to time, and call each other ‘idiots’ and ‘dumbass’ and all sorts of other names and curses on a daily basis. But that doesn’t change the fact that we love each other, right? This is very different from romantic love by the way, it’s familial love. Though… if I’m being honest with you—and this is just based off my personal experience, I can assure you that it might be different with other siblings— ‘I love you’ is a thing that most brothers and sisters— or at least, for me and Sei— never say to each other until they find themselves in a situation or moment where nothing else can possibly be said.” Like when one of them is dying, for instance, I think grimly, though this obviously couldn’t happen to me and Sei. 

Then I frown.

If death couldn’t happen to me or Sei, considering that we were both immortal gods, then when would ‘I love you’ even be said? What other horrible situation could we even be in for that to be said? Did it really have to only be said in horrible situations? I knew Sei would often say it on occasions where I would be feeling down, and he used it as a replacement for ‘good night' on some days. And I’d always echo it back, of course… but when have I ever said it first to him?

Never, I realized. Wow. Did that make me a bad sister? Was I embarrassed, perhaps, to say it first?

“So…people can argue but still care about one another at the same time?”

“Yes! See, you’re getting it!” I smile, clapping my hands a little. “This’ll be written down in the history books for sure: ‘The day that Lucifer, Satan himself, learns about lo—!’”

Before I could finish, Lucifer reaches out and wraps his arms around me. He put a hand to the back of my head, pulling me closer towards himself. I stiffen, then relax, realizing it’s just a hug.

Wait…a hug?

I’m in disbelief. To think that Lucifer, of all people, was capable of giving hugs? This has never happened before. Even so, I slump forward, resting my head on the crook of his neck, and bring my arms around him to return the hug properly.

“Lucifer, do you—”

“What is this? Because I saw your brother doing this to you before he went inside that school earlier,” he hurriedly said, as if he thought hugs were prohibited or that he needed clarification for his actions. “I don’t know the term for it… but I figured this has to do with love.”

 “It does,” I say, turning my face to the side, glad he had not seen my cheeks go bright red. “The word for it is ‘hug’. Or ‘embrace’.” 

‘What is this?’?? He’s actually asking what is this??? I think, flabbergasted. It was strange. It really was. These… were things he should know. 

“Embrace…” He murmured the word to himself, as if trying to ingrain it into his memory. Then he frowned, and muttered, “Shi, I am sorry.”

“What’re you apologizing for??” I say, startled.

“For not knowing these things. Even after all these centuries of observing humans, I know nothing about…” His voice broke. “About…”

His grip tightened around me, and though his arms didn’t shake, something else gave his current feelings away. He fell silent for a moment, and something warm dripped into my hair. One drop, then another.

“Nothing about love, or sorrow, or emotions in general. I am…incapable of perceiving them, or showing emotions. The only one I know is anger. The only one I understand is anger. The only one I ever produce is anger!”

He made a small sound. 

I knew immediately what it was. A sob. Suppressed, quiet, but there nonetheless.

“That’s a lie, Lucifer,” I said calmly. “It’s a lie. You do have feelings. If you don’t have feelings, then what is this expression? How would you explain that look on your face, then? You can’t make a face like that if you didn’t.” I lifted a hand and rested it on his warm cheek, to, I did not know myself, but perhaps to comfort him. I pretended not to notice how he inadvertently leaned into the touch. Gently, I wiped the teardrops traveling down his face with my fingertips.

“I don’t understand… how to… how they work. I don’t have any!” He said through a sob, tears choked in his throat. “I’ve… I do not understand feelings.” He shook his head, his voice pleading for me to understand.

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not… I’m not lying. I really don’t understand!” He made more soft sounds, burying his face into my hair. I don’t have to look up to know what expression he’s making.

“It’s a lie. You may not understand them, but it's not as if you have none! You have them! You have feelings. You have a heart just like mine! Just like Sei’s! Just like anyone else! You don't have to be human to have feelings, Lucifer! You are capable of making facial expressions just like any other person! You do have emotions you want to express. You do! You just… don’t seem to know how.”

He doesn’t respond for a while. He just stays there, sniffling, a hand caressing my hair as he ponders my response. Thank goodness he wasn’t making the small sounds anymore. Hearing his sobs broke my heart.

But then, he spoke. 

“I apologize,” he says finally. “I suppose I just had… no one to teach me. In Hell, everyone came to me for questions or advice, but… considering that I was at the top, the leader, the ringmaster of Hell, I had no one to go to myself. No one to teach me… such simple things like emotions.”

Emotions, like love or sadness… aren’t things that you’re taught. They’re things that you’re supposed to know, instinctively. That's how it worked for everyone, regardless of whether you were a mere mortal or a god. But Lucifer… he didn't.

I had never known that he had genuinely been not knowing of such simple things. Nobody had ever told me. I had thought he was just stoic because he chose to hate people, but in actuality, he never known how love worked, or what it even was.

“So that weird feeling in your chest… is that what love is, too?”

I nod. “Sometimes.”

I have waited centuries for this moment, the moment where Lucifer would finally hold me in his arms. I guess these sorts of magical things didn’t have to happen on the docks at the seaside. Maybe it could be on an old cemetery bench, too.

Sure, I hadn’t imagined it to go in this direction, with him not even understanding the concept of love. But hey, at least it’s a start. However long it takes for him to understand and feel it, I’ll wait for him. 

And wait. And wait some more. No matter if it takes years.

Sure, there was no confession of love outwardly said by either of us. But it was there. It was present. Through his arms holding me, even though he didn’t fully understand the meaning of his actions… wasn’t that him trying to communicate that he cared about me?

“A feeling of longing for someone… a feeling of missing someone and feeling like something is missing within you because you’re missing someone…a feeling of someone meaning so much to you… that’s love, isn’t it?” His murmurs were muffled as he spoke into my hair, and the arms wrapped around me tightened just a little bit more. I couldn’t tell whether he was talking to himself or me, but just the same I replied,

“Yes.”

 — *  —

I deliberately do not think about how long we actually spent sitting there on that stone bench. If it hadn’t been for the time, we would’ve spent the entire day just holding each other.

Eventually, I managed to separate myself, and we headed back in the direction of the school in silence. I suppose he didn’t want to talk about what just happened, and fair enough, I didn’t, either.

When I noticed Lucifer’s silence as we walked, it unnerved me. Was he bothered by what happened? Should I ask? Instead of doing so, I gently pushed the back of his hand with my own, and, surprisingly, Lucifer pushed me in return. We played like this as we walked, pushing our hands back and forth, brushing our fingers, not daring to look at each other, until we laced them together on a silent, mutual whim.

If anything, it felt more comforting than anything romantic. Even I, who couldn’t deny my undying love for Satan himself and proclaimed so every chance I got, knew that he most likely didn’t feel the same way as me. 

Yet.

Because I knew he was confused. Where did our relationship stand? He didn’t seem to quite know. Neither did I. So instead of addressing the major elephant in the room like I knew we were supposed to, we tried our best to ignore it, despite it lingering in the air between us.

Soon enough, we reached the school. I turned to him. “I suppose I should get going now," I say, finally breaking the tense, awkward silence between us. But even as I said that, I found that I was quite unwilling to let go of the hand that was currently still interlocked through mine. I suppose he felt the same way, because his fingers, seemingly moving without his realizing, tightened ever so slightly. 

His gaze wasn't on me at the moment. His eyes were fixated on the people around us. 

Couples lingered in the main square in front of the school, some holding hands or side-hugging as they entered the school, others parting from each other as they gave their beloved a kiss farewell. I noticed that most of the girl's eyes — and some boys— were gazing rather intently at Lucifer. 

Back off, he's mine! I narrowed my eyes at them and gritted my teeth. I would've given them a cathartically rude hand gesture if not for Lucifer being in front of me. 

Lucifer turned back to me, and blinked. Then with a jolt, he hastily dropped my hand as if it had burned him. Just as soon as he did so, he grabbed it again.

“Umm, Shi… I mean, about earlier.” He fumbled over his words. “Sorry—I don’t know how to explain, but what I’m trying to say is…you— I mean, me!— I just wanted to…” 

Watching him utterly fail to formulate a coherent sentence made a smile creep to my face. He’s rarely this flustered. Where’d the calm, collected, composed him go? “It’s okay, take your time.”

“Than…” The words died and were replaced with a new sentence entirely. “I think you’re insane.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“An imbecile!” He continued.

“Heard that already.”

“A scoundrel!”

“Ooh, that's a new one!” I sing, a teasing lilt to my voice. Is this his way of flirting? The idiot.

“And I hate you!”

“If you really did you wouldn’t be holding my hand, darling!”

He looked down and dropped it again, as if he hadn’t even realized he had taken it again.

I raised my eyebrows. “I know you had been just about to thank me, my dear. Don’t deny it.”

He huffed. “I’m leaving now.”

I grabbed his arm and clung to it. “No!” I cried. “Don’t leave me, Lucifer!”

“I have important matters to attend to.”

“More important than me?” I flashed another grin at him.

He looked down at me, his lip curling in mild disgust. Whether it was feigned or not, I couldn’t tell, but I was inclined to believe that it was. “Yes, much, much more important than you.”

I pouted, then my eyes lit up as I began laughing. “If they were that important, then you would’ve attended to them already rather than wasting your precious time hugging me for who knows how long! Ooooor,” I poked his shoulder, “was it a waste? Huh?? Was it?? Waaaas ittt???”

Instead of replying, he froze. He stared at me, not moving, blinking slowly as it seemed to dawn on him. 

Then, his face slowly changed. Heat flooded to his cheeks, as if he had barely realized that I wasn’t wrong. That I did indeed have a point.

He swiftly turned away. "Just go to class, Sei's probably worried about where you are, after all," he said stiffly, as he began walking away.

He stopped suddenly then, turned, and glanced back at me. His mouth pressed into a thin line, and his eyebrows furrowed, as if he remembered something. Finally, he spoke. "And try using the advice you gave to your brother on yourself too, please. Don't let yourself be so alone all the time. Your brother wouldn't want that... and I..." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as he awkwardly cleared his throat. "I wouldn't, either."

I noticed his eyes— that were still on me— soften ever so slightly as he said that. Though, it must have been my imagination, as his face returned to its usual stoic expression within a millisecond.

He turned then, and without another word, he disappeared in a flash of white, as if he had never been there at all.

(Let me know what you think of it or if you’d like to see more of them !! trust me this isnt even half of what i've written of my sillies<3)

[choerypetal]

Love at first sight. / Squid Games!Men

summary; a little prompt for each men in squid game x reader.

also my english isn't my first language so i do apologize for a few errors! enjoys x

including; in-ho, thanos, myung-gi, dae-ho & gi-hun

In-ho: 

Praise yourself for catching In-ho’s attention amidst the chaos of the games. Not only did he manage to maintain his composure, but he also came to terms with the truth—it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, but his heart betraying him. He had been ensnared in a dangerous blend of love and death. And no matter the cost, he was determined to ensure your survival, even if it meant faking your death and arranging for the guards to escort you to his shelter.

At first, his actions were subtle—a few fleeting glances, quiet assurances that you weren’t alone. He took it upon himself to ensure someone capable stood between you and danger. This resolve led him to seek out Gi-hun, cornering him with a whispered plea. “I’m not asking for much,” In-ho murmured, his voice low and firm. Gi-hun’s brows knit together as he glanced at you, understanding little of the request but sensing its weight. Though the urge to question why In-ho couldn’t protect you himself lingered, Gi-hun ultimately accepted—he, too, had his own plans to carry out.

Yet, watching Gi-hun hover near you ignited something unexpected in In-ho—a simmering, unanticipated jealousy. His blood boiled harder than he cared to admit.

It was Gi-hun’s proximity to you that set him on edge.

While 001 had extended a friendly hand, In-ho never anticipated him stealing you away entirely. The realization unsettled him, and during the chaos of the Carousel games, panic began to creep in. When he noticed you were nowhere to be found in the room, it nearly consumed him. The thought of losing you made his fists clench, and for a brief, irrational moment, he contemplated throwing a punch at Gi-hun. But it wasn’t until the final elimination, when the doors unlocked, that relief washed over him. There you were—your silhouette unmistakable behind Dae-ho.

In that instant, he didn’t hesitate. Rushing toward you, his breath hitched, words failing him. A shaky exhale escaped his lips, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. He almost laughed—a scoff of incredulity—before pulling you close, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head. Without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips pressing a firm but tender kiss to your forehead.

“Silly,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “I never should’ve trusted Gi-hun to keep you safe. Damn it, I thought I’d lost you.” The panic in his voice caught you off guard, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t expected such raw vulnerability from him—not now, not like this. A soft chuckle escaped you, an attempt to lighten the moment. “It’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “Dae-ho found me right away and made sure I was safe.”

That revelation gave In-ho pause, but he filed it away for later. For now, none of it mattered. You were alive and unharmed, and that was everything.

The kiss on your forehead wasn’t just a gesture of relief—it was a silent declaration. You were his, and no one—not Gi-hun, not Dae-ho, not anyone—would ever take you from him again.

Thanos: 

Once a retired rapper, Thanos now found himself thrust into a life-and-death struggle. Among his generation, it was no surprise that some idolized him—his presence commanding a respect so intense, it bordered on worship. To them, he was pristine, untouchable. But this adoration didn’t sit well with everyone, especially loners like you, who preferred to navigate the chaos without attachments.

Ironically, that aloofness was one of the many reasons Thanos found himself drawn to you.

In the early days on the island, Thanos made no effort to reveal his interest. If anything, he mirrored your indifference, matching your cold detachment with his own. But when you began spending time with Myung-gi, the dynamic shifted. Thanos hadn’t expected it, nor did he like it. Watching you bond with someone else left a bitter taste in his mouth, awakening a tension he couldn’t ignore. The loner mindset had been his strategy for survival—a simple equation: fewer people, fewer complications. But your presence complicated everything, especially when it came to your effortlessly beautiful face, which he found himself stealing glances at far too often.

It didn’t take long for his resolve to crack.

Thanos had made himself a promise: to keep his distance, to ignore you as you ignored him. But that promise shattered the moment Nam-Gyu let slip a confession Thanos had sworn him to secrecy about. That little fucker, Thanos thought bitterly, though his anger was tempered by necessity—he needed Nam-Gyu to survive. Yet, when the truth reached you, it unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Instead of drawing you closer, the revelation pushed you further away. Your avoidance became more deliberate, more pronounced than ever before. It stung more than Thanos cared to admit. For the first time in a long time, he was unprepared—for your reaction, for the way it tightened a knot of frustration and longing deep inside him.

Which only added more tension between the two of you.

The final games loomed, a trial where survival would demand more than just cunning—it called for a kind of ruthless cleansing. Thanos knew, without hesitation, that when the moment came, he’d be the first to grab your hand and shield you. Even if it meant overreacting, even if it jeopardized his own chances, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Certainly not to Myung-gi, if it came down to that.

“You know...” he murmured late that night, his voice low and almost hesitant. Your back was turned to him, your body stiff on the thin mattress. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, couldn’t even steal a glance. Not after everything. The weight of his breath lingered against the back of your neck, and you flinched slightly, betraying your nerves. His presence, so close and unyielding, was suffocating yet magnetic.

“Tomorrow is... big,” he continued, his words faltering as his gaze shifted across the dimly lit dormitory. For a moment, his eyes locked on Player 333, who sat sharpening a weapon in the corner—a stark reminder of the danger waiting ahead. Thanos clenched his jaw, then turned his focus back to you.

“If we’re not careful...” he trailed off, his voice softening, almost breaking. “Who knows if I’ll ever get to see your beautiful face again?”He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself, as if admitting even that much was a risk. “I know it’s—” 

Your head snapped toward him, your brows furrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut through the tension between you. For a moment, silence hung in the air, charged and heavy. Then, your voice broke it, calm yet biting. “If you keep this up, you might be the one ending up with a bullet in the face,” you said, your tone so nonchalant it bordered on cute—a contrast that left Thanos momentarily stunned. He blinked, almost scoffing in disbelief, one hand pressing dramatically against his chest.

“Ouch,” he drawled, his lips curling into a grin. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed into daggers. “Do. Not. Call me sweetheart.”

Before you could say more, Nam-Gyu chimed in from his corner, a mischievous smirk playing on his face. “I bet she’s in love,” he teased, his words practically dripping with mockery.

Thanos’s cocky grin widened at that, his eyes gleaming with a maddening mix of pride and amusement. The sheer arrogance in his expression made your fingers twitch, itching to slap that smug look right off his face. But instead, you gave him one final glare—a death wish in your eyes, though to Thanos, it looked like the beginning of a love story.

“I bet she is,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain, the words carrying a weight of truth that made your chest tighten. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and walked away, but his gaze lingered, following every step you took. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your finger without even realizing it. A wimp for you, and you alone.

Myung-gi: 

Everyone knew who Player 333 was—you included. Unlike many in this room who were desperate to claw their way out of debt, you knew Myung-gi only by name. You’d heard the rumors: how he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant, how his past was littered with mistakes and secrets. But something in you—a stubborn spark of hope, perhaps—whispered that he wasn’t as bad as everyone wanted him to be. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the stories let on.

Myung-gi had noticed you, though. He’d seen the way you were with Jun-hee—the way your smile seemed to ease her fears, how your arms would wrap gently around her petite frame after every game, grounding her, giving her the space to breathe. The quiet strength and warmth you brought to her felt almost unreal, a motherly presence in a place devoid of comfort.

It was that tenderness, that undeniable light, that struck him like a blow to the chest.

Myung-gi was in love.

And he hated every single moment of it.

Why? Because he knew himself. He knew what he’d done to Jun-hee—how he’d left her while she was pregnant with his child, drowning in debt and fear. He’d been a coward, an asshole, and he knew it. That self-loathing festered, a constant reminder of his failures. And yet, it was exactly why he didn’t expect you to see him as anything other than the man he despised.

But fate had other plans.

Your first real interaction with him came after he saved you—something neither of you had anticipated.

It happened during the Bathroom games, where survival left no room for personal grudges. Confronting Thanos wasn’t at the forefront of Myung-gi’s mind, but then he heard it—your name, slipping from Thanos’s lips with such filth that it ignited a rage Myung-gi didn’t know he was capable of.

Everyone knew your past as an escort within the crypto community. Your name wasn’t hard to find, whispered in private conversations and occasionally tied to scandalous wallets. But Myung-gi knew better than to judge. Still, hearing Thanos—the retired rapper—speak of you like that, as though you were nothing more than a commodity, was the last straw.

“She was good for a foreigner. Not many—”

That was as far as Thanos got before Myung-gi’s fist collided with his jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. The sickening crack of impact echoed through the grimy bathroom, followed by a faint splatter of blood. Myung-gi emerged from the stall alive but seething, his knuckles raw and his breath ragged. As he stepped out, his gaze immediately locked with yours. Jun-hee stood beside you, clinging to your arm for reassurance, but the look on your face was unreadable—a mix of surprise, understanding, and something softer.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crept across Myung-gi’s lips.

In that moment, he made a silent promise: no matter what it took, he’d make sure both of you got out of this alive.

Dae-ho: 

Dae-ho never believed in love at first sight. With everything he’d endured in his life—the trials, the sacrifices, the relentless pursuit of strength—he saw himself as a knight in shining armor, bound by duty but never destined for romance. That belief held firm until he met you.

It happened during the Carousel game. Like In-ho, he’d noticed you before—your stoic demeanor during Green Light, Red Light had left him quietly impressed. The way you moved, swift yet calculated, managing to evade the statue’s unrelenting gaze with precision, was nothing short of remarkable. It was then that something shifted in him. Against all reason, Dae-ho found himself believing in love at first sight.

At first, he thought he was imagining it. He even considered pinching himself, blinking twice to dispel the notion. But the feeling persisted, undeniable and maddening. It wasn’t until later, when you tended to his wounds after one of the brutal games, that he finally saw you up close—and the full weight of your beauty struck him like a blow. Your lashes fluttered delicately as you focused on your task, your fingers gentle but firm as you dabbed rubbing alcohol onto his injuries. He hissed at the sting, his lips parting in a soft groan of pain.

“Be still, please,” you murmured, your tone calm but commanding. Something about the way you said it—the quiet strength in your voice—silenced his protests. He nodded, his muscles relaxing under your care, though the tension in his chest was harder to soothe.

For the first time, Dae-ho felt vulnerable—not because of his wounds, but because of you.

“You know…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, but there was a softness to it that made you pause. You could’ve sworn his lips curved into the faintest smile. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you like this—healing me. Back at the Carousel, I swore to myself I’d keep you close, that we’d find the door as quickly as anyone else. But then… the next thing I knew, Thanos had taken you before I could…”

He trailed off, his words tinged with shame. The vulnerability in his voice made you glance up at him, your fingers stilling as you finished securing the bandage. His eyes widened at your sudden attention, and he immediately began to stammer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

You interrupted him with a soft sigh, sliding the remaining bandage back into your pocket. “Don’t apologize. We just weren’t lucky, that’s all. I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it—that I wasn’t just someone who had to count on others.” Your gaze softened as you added, almost reluctantly, “But… I have to admit, not having you there in that room—it was horrible.”

Your quiet confession was enough to undo him. Without a word, Dae-ho wrapped his arms around you, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. Still, he didn’t let go. His embrace was warm, protective, and when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, it felt like a promise.

“Nevertheless,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reassurance, “I’m just glad we made it through. That you’re here with me.” His lips quirked into a small grin as he added, with a teasing lilt, “And that I get to cuddle with you for another night.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, the tension between you easing for a moment. For now, at least, you both had each other.

Gi-hun: 

Unlike the others, you weren’t a player. But you knew Gi-hun from the previous game he was in. He was so certain you had died right in front of his eyes back then that when he saw the mask ripped off your face—revealing you as one of the Guards—his shock was palpable. Another Guard had been taken hostage by the remaining candidates, and though you could have cursed every word that came to mind, you found yourself frozen, your voice stolen by the chaos.

In-ho was the first to recognize you. He knew you were on shift at this hour, but what he hadn’t expected was the look of sheer horror that crossed Gi-hun’s face when your name escaped his lips.

“Y/N...?” Gi-hun’s voice trembled, disbelief heavy in the air as though he was trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“You know them?” one of the players sneered, their stolen gun now aimed squarely at Gi-hun. Bodies of your co-workers—faces you barely had time to register—lay scattered across the floor, lifeless, just feet away. The metallic tang of blood filled the air.

But this time, Gi-hun wasn’t about to let anyone lay a finger on you. He remembered the vow you both had made:

"We belong to each other. And I will get you home."

With those words etched into his resolve, Gi-hun made his move. Chaos erupted as the gun exchanged hands, bullets flying. The air was filled with deafening roars of defiance and the sickening splatter of blood.

In the end, In-ho stood back, his heart cold and unyielding, as he watched Gi-hun fall. The final shot rang out, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Blood speckled your cheek, and you stared in stunned silence at the empty shell of a man you had once loved.

From the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the carnage, low and mocking.

“Welcome back home, love.”

You turned toward the source, and there he was Gi-hun—his gruesome smile sending chills down your spine.

[sumiscribes]

MIRA????????😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Synopsis: Your first encounter with Rin Itoshi in a world struck by tragedy.

BLLK Masterlist

Pairing: Rin x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2.0k

Content Warnings: zombie apocalypse au, reader is suicidal, reader is the final boss of being a failure, not SELF indulgent because i wrote it for a friend but indulgent nonetheless, zombies are gross, rin is there ig, this is super short i wrote it in like. an hour, i haven't paid attention to bllk for a while so rin is obvs going to be ooc sorry

A/N: good morning @sumiscribe-side i am Perceiving you rn 👁️👁️ i hope you do not perceive me in return...for the rest of you who may or may not be reading this is just like a silly drabble based on a convo sumi and i were having earlier that i ended up writing as a surprise for my baddie LOLOL i could've expanded on this premise more and even made a series out of it but i did not Want to. seeing as rin is not my #man LMAO but anyways if it's confusing/vague that's why SDKJFH SORRY I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M WRITING THIS AFTER SAYING I WAS DONE W BLLK HAHA

The knife in your hands is pungent with the scent of rust, the blade long since turned red from corrosion, but the point is sharp enough that when you press your finger to it, you wince before brightening. It’s the first sharp thing you’ve seen in a while, and you’re more than a little relieved that finally, finally, you might find some reprieve from the endless cycle you’ve been trapped in since the world ended one month ago.

You raise it in the air and sniff it delicately; the tang of the metal is acrid and bitter, but it’s better than the rot lingering in the air, which is heavy and humid and sticks to your skin and clothes and hair until you feel like vomiting. You really might've vomited — you did the first day, after all — but as of late your reserves of food have dipped so pitifully low that all you have left to your name is a pack of crackers and a perpetual nausea, gnawing low in your gut and almost certainly the cruelest part of this entire situation.

“Well, then,” you say, twirling the knife between your fingers. “Let’s get to business!”

You’re oddly cheery for a girl who’s about to die, but given that you’re meeting this death without jaws sinking into your shoulder or decay coating the inside of your nostrils, you feel like some happiness is deserved. It’s strange to think of, but you really are luckier than most, and certainly you are luckier than those who were caught close to the epicenter of the outbreak’s beginning.

Right as the tip of the blade comes to rest against your sternum, not deep enough to pierce it but firm enough that you know it’s there, you hear a low groan. Your eyes widen, and then you whip around, brandishing the knife before you as if it will do anything.

It’s one of them — the infected, the undead, the sick, or whatever other polite term the media is using to refer to them now. You can’t keep track of them all — it feels as though there is a different name every minute — but your mother was once a fan of this genre, and you’ve seen enough movies to know what they are actually called: zombies.

This one is tall, achingly slim, its skin clinging to its bones and riddled with holes, its fingers gaunt as they reach towards you, twin black pits carved into its face where its eyes once sat. It doesn’t need to see to know where you are; it can sense you, the sweetness of your living flesh irresistible to its decomposing maw, which hangs loose with another trembling moan of delight at your proximity.

With a yelp, you scramble backwards. To your dismay, the knife slips from your hands and is immediately caught underfoot by the zombie, the metal hissing into steam as it dissolves from strength of the mucus dripping down the creature's legs. You swear to yourself, because that was your one chance at peace and your own hesitation cost you it, but then the zombie wails and breaks into a run and you’re swearing for a different reason.

Your instincts tell you to scream for help, but you don’t, because you don’t want to attract more of them and end up cornered, torn apart by an entire pack of the things. You've managed to avoid that outcome thus far, your strategy of hiding in whatever bodies of water you can find successful enough given that your scent is washed away rather handily by the rushing currents, but of course your luck would run out eventually.

“It’s fine!” you chant to yourself as you run. “It’s fine, I’ll go through with it next time. I’ll do it next time! It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s — ah!”

You attempt to skid to a stop, but you cannot stop yourself from tripping over the man crouched by the smoldering remains of a fire, tumbling over him with your legs in the air and your limbs askew as you land in a heap behind him. Not even taking the time to greet him, you shoot back to your feet and shove him in the direction of the zombie, calling out an apology over your shoulder and hoping that his sacrifice buys you enough time to get to the river you left behind when searching for a weapon.

There’s a loud bang, and then someone is yanking you back by your sleeve. With a squeal, you squeeze your eyes shut and kick at your captor, but instead of the grating, rumbling sound characteristic of zombies in distress, you hear a grunt.

“What the hell is your problem?”

You crack your eyes open and find yourself met with the arresting glare of the man, who is both the one holding you in place and the one snapping at you. There’s a layer of dust on his face and smears of blood on his jacket, but he’s otherwise clean and unharmed, though the scowl twisting his handsome features is more reminiscent of someone who's dying in agony. 

“Where did it go?” you say. “That zombie, where is it?”

“The infected,” he corrects you, rolling his eyes. “I killed it.”

“Killed it? You have a weapon, then?” you say, ignoring his snarky amendment.

“So what if I do?” he say.

“Give it to me,” you say. He’s disgusted now, disgusted and more than a little horrified as he drops you to the ground and steps away from you.

“No way,” he says. 

“I’ll give it right back! I just need to borrow it to do…something,” you say.

“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s very convincing.”

“You don’t sound very convinced,” you say. He doesn’t even give this the grace of a response, and you huff. “I’m not going to take it from you. Look, I’m not some kind of survivor or whatever. I just want to get out of here before I’m ripped to shreds and messily enjoyed by one of those zombie freaks.”

This time, he doesn’t bother with correcting you for the casual name, only looking you over, measuring you with his steady gaze, which is unreadable and blue and reminds you of what summertime used to feel like.

“You’re looking for one of the strongholds, then?” he says. 

“Strongholds?” you repeat. You’ve heard that some of the bigger cities have consolidated their forces, built impenetrable fortresses that are checked meticulously for any signs of illness, but you’ve long since dismissed such tales as nothing but fantasies created by survivors desperate to cling onto something like hope. 

“Yes,” he says, and he’s clearly impatient. “There’s one not too far from here. Isn’t that your destination?”

“I didn’t know those were real,” you say. He squints at you, and then he clicks his tongue.

“Seriously,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re still alive. How unprepared can you get?”

“I wish I wasn’t,” you say, candidly and without any emotion. “I’m sick of this. The only reason I’m still going is because I need something a bit more sophisticated than a well-shaped stick to get the job done, you know? I’m not that brave, after all. If I were, I would’ve just let myself be taken by the hordes, but as it is, I’m waiting until I find something that’ll make it quick.”

“What?” he says.

“I found it, too!” you continue, and it’s been so long since you had a proper conversation with an actual person, not a tree stump or stray deer, that you find yourself more than a little impassioned. “I found a knife, and I was just about to do it, I really was! But then, ugh, that zombie came and I panicked and dropped it and then it melted, because of course it did, of-fucking-course it did, and then I was running and next thing I know, I’m tripping over you!”

He blinks at you, and then he exhales, running a hand through his dark hair like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, although you think it’s fairly reasonable, all things considered. His other hand drops to his belt, and that’s when you notice he has a pistol hanging on his belt — indubitably the source of the bang from earlier.

“No,” he says when he notices where you’re looking. “That’s not an option.”

“It would be so easy, though,” you plead. “Come on, help a girl out, won’t you?”

“Haven’t I helped you enough?” he says. “I saved your life earlier. You’d be, uh, what did you call it? ‘Ripped to shreds and messily enjoyed by one of those zombie freaks?' Yeah. You definitely weren’t outrunning that thing for much longer, I can promise you that.”

“Why does it matter to you?” you say, deciding not to comment on his swift judgement of your athletic ability. He’s probably right, anyways, and besides, anything resembling the pride you had once maintained had fled with the first zombie you had narrowly escaped from.

“Ammunition isn’t cheap,” he says.

“I’ll pay you for it!” you say. “How about that? Sounds fair, right? I give you something, and you do it for me. Total deal!”

“Hm. What do you have?” he says, and you’re so taken aback by the genuine answer that you fumble about for a bit, your hands fishing around in your pockets for something of value.

“How about these crackers?” you say, waving your only possession at him tantalizingly.

“Crackers,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging downwards.

“They’re gourmet,” you say.

“No, they’re not,” he says.

“They are!” you insist.

“I’ve seen that exact brand in the convenience store before,” he says. You pause at this.

“You must have some…very fancy convenience stores where you live,” you say finally. He’s clearly unimpressed, and you shove the crackers back in your pocket before clasping your hands together. “Look, this is all I’ve got. If it’s not you or a zombie, I’ll just die of starvation, anyways. Can’t you consider it a mercy kill or something?”

He shifts from foot to foot, and for the first time you realize that it’s not just obstinance — despite the ease with which he shot the zombie, the thought of killing you is another thing entirely, and he’s clearly repulsed by the idea. So, pursing your lips, you nod at him.

“Alright, I get it,” you say with a sigh. “Don’t worry, I’m not that horrible. If that’s how it is, I’ll just get going now. Thanks for the help…?”

You don’t expect him to give you his name, not when you’re a stranger who could do anything with it, but it’s a holdover, an old habit from when you would go to school and make friends in exactly that way, with a raise of your brow and an invitation to complete your sentence.

“Rin,” he says. Your eyes widen, and then you smile, because it’s a name that suits him, lovely and simple, strong like the bridge of his nose, which is currently wrinkled in something resembling a frown. 

“Rin,” you affirm. You don’t give him your name in exchange, and he doesn’t ask for it. “Thanks again.”

“Wait,” he says, opening his bag and tossing a can at you. “Here.”

The label is faded beyond comprehension, but you can tell that it’s something like beans or vegetables, something substantial that makes your stomach grumble by its weight alone. It’s precious, this food which won’t go bad for years, and you furrow your brow, because what reason does he have for giving it to you?

“Live long enough to come by something worthwhile,” he says, answering your question before you can ask it. “And then come find me again.”

“Then will you—?” Your voice breaks off, and you hug the can to your chest. It’s harder to speak of when you’re so close to it, harder to tell him you want death when he’s offering to give you just that. 

He swallows, and you can tell even with that one simple act that he is sick from it, sick from the mere possibility, but you're selfish, in order to survive you have to be, so you don’t move to reassure him.

“Yes,” he says, and it's shuddery and reluctant but he does it. “The next time we meet, if you still want me to, I’ll kill you.”