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frank1nsaint · 4 months

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Franklin Part 4

Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word

As expected Franklin did indeed figure out who approached you, what shocked you was how quick he was able to figure it out. You hear rumors about their disappearance, beatings and/or shootings either way you don't see them around anymore in the following weeks. The more you thought about it the more scared you got because either one of them could put things together and come for you or they were actually dead and you can't decide which fate you feared most. You spent some time looking over your shoulder afterwards.

On top of that you had your own personal shit to deal with, you couldn't figure out which stung more Franklin lying to you and playing you or him moving on like you meant nothing. You heard about him going back to Melody fooling with her and with other girls from different blocks. Brenda, Keisha, who else? You had no beef with them, you caught a glimpse of one of them once when Harmony dragged you to a party, tired of your pity party.

“Fuck!” You complain to yourself wiping your tears away while trying to focus at work. You had just stepped away from a patient's room to get them water and now at the fountain, you were fighting back against your tears but failing. You rush to the bathroom to calm down.

“Maybe you like him more than you think?” your mind Replays Harmony’s comments

“What is wrong with me?” You look at yourself in the bathroom mirror

You didn't want to admit it to yourself that you did indeed like Franklin and you were pissed he played you. A long time had passed between your break up with your ex and Franklin's date. You forgot how much you actually missed getting attention from a guy. And Franklin’s attention was a breath of fresh air and suffocating at the same time. When he looked at you his eyes never left you. You remember blushing so much at the fact that he actually paid attention he was present in all the conversations.

You take in a deep breath “okay enough!” you scold yourself, a small pep talk “you got this! Room 5 still needs water, 12 needs blankets and another gown, and room 19 wants something to eat“ You say to yourself as you read down your list. The rest of your shift you force yourself to focus on work and nothing else. It was for the best anyway. It was best if you two just didn’t try to pursue each other.

School, work, home, work, school, home. Your life returns to its norm, finally after you stop feeling sad for yourself you fall back into your routine. You have 3 semesters remaining from getting your general studies degree. You were so close you could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

However tonight was a girls night, it was your idea to make it a girls night, surprising Harmony in the process. You look at your watch Harmony and LaShay were supposed to be coming down from Sean's house the three of you were going to the Prince concert downtown and the way this was the concert of your lifetimes to date so you needed them to hurry the fuck up or traffic would have you all missing the show.

“Shit!” you grumble to yourself, as you grab your purse and keys you had to go rush them out or you three two would be fighting over this concert

You don't bother to knock on the door, instead walk into the house full of men. Franklin's men? Maybe Leon's? Acquaintances looking to make a buck? Who knows you didn't know them well enough to care, you didn't want to either.

“Damn you be walking into people's cribs like that, no knocking?” one of them jokes

“Shut up! Where's Harmony and LaShay?” you were not in the mood

“Yo Shay! Harmony!” he shouts

“What?” you hear Harmony’s voice over the music

You walk in further into the house

“Oh hey Y/N!” Lashay greets as she rounds the corner

“Hey!” you return the greeting looking her up and down

“I'm ready girl!” she chuckles noticing your mood

“HARMONY! “ Lashay calls to her

“WHAT?”

“YOUR COUSIN HERE!”

“Y/N?!” You see her head poke out the door “Hey girl i'm almost ready!” she says noting your expression you knew she was the culprit

You sigh hoping she was telling the truth “Hey how y'all doing?” you wave and ask as you look around the room

A round of greetings go around the room. You don't spot him at first but as soon as one of the men moves out of the way you two make eye contact for a few seconds

“So y’all going to that Prince concert?” you hear another guy ask

“If Harmony hurry’s the fuck up! HARMONY! HURRY IT THE FUCK UP!” you complain

“I’M COMING!”

“Damn!” He chuckles “I didn't know you were mean Y/N”

“Yea Louie already on her way with her homegirl!” Jerome comments

You roll your eyes “Lucky her”

You turn your attention to LaShay, you both spend time complimenting each other’s outfits. From your peripheral you take in his posture on the chair, legs wide open man spread to the max going over details on what looked like the city map. You turn your body to avoid your eyes drifting slowly to him.

There's a silence that takes over the room, minimal chatter, and music playing. You feel eyes on you and choose not to acknowledge it. You and LaSshay were not supposed to be there they were discussing privy information if Harmony would just get the fuck dressed. You hear heels clicking down the hall and you couldn't be happier. You 3 say your goodbyes before making it to your car with a promise to Sean and Dreads you would be bringing their girlfriends back to them safely.

A part of you silently envied them, lucky bitches had men looking out for them but tonight was not the night to lick your wounds tonight was the night to see Prince in person have a good time dance, drink, sing till you lost your voice and that's what you did.

You're later than expected but you make it back to Sean's house eventually, again LA traffic was no joke and it seemed like the entire city made their way to this concert. You and Harmony grab Lashay and make your way into Sean’s house. The house was still full. Instead of the city map you see beer bottles and cans on the table. You quickly scan the room and don't see Franklin. You sigh in relief you always felt exposed to him.

“She can lay in the spare bedroom” Harmony says as Dread’s grabs an arm

“I got her” Dreads says picking her up taking her from both of you

“Damn yall must have had fun!” Sean comments giving Harmony a kiss on her cheek

“YEA I’M SURE THEY DID!” you hear Louie laugh

You both turn to find her “Louie, how'd you get here before us?” Harmony asks as you follow her towards the sound of laughter

She stood in the kitchen with Jerome and some of Franklin's men. “Girl by that last song I was walking out the door. You know how LA traffic is” she speaks over the music

You shoot your cousin a look she had insisted you guys sit for a moment before leaving still awestruck from Prince

“Sorry” she mouths to you

“Alright I'm gonna go home” you say “goodnight y'all” you say turning to leave

“Y/N!” you hear before feeling a soft grip on your hand when you turn to look back you see Franklin with that fox smile you had failed to scan the kitchen thinking he was gone you should have, why was he always in the cut somewhere?

You glance down at your hands for a split second “Oh! Hey Franklin!” you greet as he pulls you closer leaning against the counter

It felt like all eyes were on you but in reality it was just Franklin's there he goes again once his gaze was fixated on you there was no escaping. You give him a light hug damn he smelled good you think to yourself

“You look good!” he says to you

“What ?” you say motioning to your ear “I can't...”

He pulls you in even closer, leans down to ear level “I said you look good!” he had analyzed your outfit from earlier, lilac dress, cut right about your knees, deep v cleavage in the front, gold accessories and heels. He noticed the stares around the room, and couldn't help but feel the bite of jealousy

“Thanks Franklin!”

He missed hearing his name roll of your tongue

“Can we talk?”

“Oh!” you take a step back to look up at him this was unexpected, now you were unsure of him being so close you were sure you smelled like a mixture of perfume, hairspray, cigarettes (from LaShay chain smoking), and sweat

He looks at you gauging your reaction “No time like the present” he adds

“Sure” you nod he had yet to let go of your hand as he pulled you through the crowded kitchen towards the back patio

You glance at Jerome who had a smirk on his face and when you turn to find Harmony she's grinning. Was this a set up? He still doesn't let go of your hand until he closes the kitchen door leaving you two alone outside taking in the cool night you're glad for the breeze.

“Shit didn't know it was this cold here” he begins to shrugs off his jacket

You put your hand up to stop him “It's okay Franklin feels good out here!” the house was hot or you were still hot from carrying Lashay up the steps

He stops and rolls his shoulders back. He watches you take a seat on the steps of the patio, Sean didn't have any outdoor furniture so the only place to sit were the steps he follows suit and sits next to you. You were close enough that you could touch him but he was far enough that your bodies were not touching

“You look beautiful tonight” he compliments again

You giggle nervously “I know you told me Franklin”

He smiles “Wanna make sure you heard me”

“I did thanks feet hurt though” you say looking down at your feet

His eyes follow, looking at your feet as well “I can rub your corns for you” he offers

You shove his shoulder and laugh “fuck you nigga I don't have corns”

He laughs along with you “my bad! my bad! I know that pinky toe screaming though!” you roll your eyes in response “A nigga can't even offer to do something nice!”

You chuckle and look down at your feet he wasn't wrong you're sure your pinky died tonight

The laughter dies down and an awkward silence takes over

You begin count to backwards from 100 internally if you got to one you would wish him well and go home (‘33’) you count “Im sorry?” you say as you realize he was speaking

“I wanted to apologize to you” he repeats

“Oh it's...”

He interrupts you “Nah it was fucked up the truth is I didn't ask you out for no bet. The bet was just the extra push I needed”

You look at him “Push?”

“Yea I was nervous” he confesses

You make a face “Nervous?!”

“Yea!” He turns to face you “what? a nigga can’t get nervous?”

“No I just didn't think you would be” you say softly

“Well I was!” he defends “You're beautiful and as far as I can tell it's like every nigga who ain't got a girl looking at you”

“Ohhh” you feel flustered and look away

You hear him exhale “anyway I wanted to let you know I was being genuine during our date and I'm apologizing for hurting your feelings I didn't think I had snitches in my crew but thats not the point I fucked up”

“Thanks Franklin I accept your apology” you smile at him

He smiles back. The awkward silence is back

You look down and notice his scarred hand. He must have been in a fight recently. Without thinking you grab it and run your fingers across his knuckles and reality comes crashing down when you hear an argument erupt. You both instinctively look back you turn and face each other and smile awkwardly

“I'm sorry” you say noticing you still his hand still in your hold his returning it to its original spot

Franklin puts it back in your hands “It's cool”

The silence returns

(‘Don't do it!’ you speak to yourself ‘don't fucking’) “What would you do?” (‘you stupid hoe’)

“Hmm?” he hums

You distract yourself with his hand again also to keep the full grown butterflies in your stomach at bay “If it was you” you speak slowly “what would you do?”

He closes his hand on your fingers. You feel your heart race waiting for his response not wanting to make eye contact because anyone with two brain cells wouldn't even ask that question let alone entertain the idea of a second chance...Right?

He moves closer, your bodies are now touching you still haven't looked up at him. The embarrassment was too strong.

It takes him a moment to think “Honestly” you hold your breath and immediately look up glad he wasn't looking you but looking ahead “I don't know Y/N” he answers truthfully he turns to face you “I don't know I can't tell you”

You return a half smile and look away “thanks for being honest Franklin”

Silence returns for a moment before you decide to loop your arm around his and lay your head on his shoulder “So what if we take it slow?” you propose

“Slow?”

You look up at him “Yea slow but like snail pace slow”

He hums and smirks “I wouldn’t mind that”

You face away hiding your smile “Okay” you say softly. It feels like immense pressure has been released from your body. Instead of fighting against his pull you just succumbed to it. This felt right, it felt like this is what it should be.

Franklin wraps his arms around you pulling you closer to him, you look up at him, and there it was again his intense stare, one hand reached and pushed your hair out of the way so he could see your face

In a hushed voice he says “Snails pace?” he confirms

“Yea” you whisper back while nodding, with shallow breaths, heart racing as you watch him inch closer thumb caressing your cheek

“Come'ere” he whispers, hand gently pulling your face towards his before planting a soft kiss on your lips. He sighs into the kiss releasing the tension he was holding onto as well he pulls away leaving lingering pecks on your lips “okay gorgeous”

You blush and roll your eyes “here we go Casanova”

He chuckles before kissing you again “mmmm” he moans “I could get used to this” he says once he pulls away

You hear more commotion again “we should get back you got to lay down the law or they gon shoot each other”

“Stupid mothafuckas” he grumbles standing up and holding his hand out

You giggled as you stood up “be nice”

He smacks his lips at your comment “Got goosebumps talking bout you ain't cold here” he says draping his jacket over you

“Oh no I'm good Frank..”

“I wasn't asking” he interrupts you while he pulls it around your shoulders and pulls you closer

“One more” he says before leaning down and kissing you

You smile into the pecks and he does the same

“Whatchu blushing for?” he teases you shake your head and turn to look away “Let's get you outta here” he takes hold of your hand and pulls you through the crowd

“I know you idiots not fightin’ over no damn cards!” he comments once he finds the commotion

There's a slight silence before the room erupts in laughter and Franklin chuckles in response

He walks you to your car you give him a hug, not wanting to let go, he gave good hugs

“Here” you say trying to shrug off his jacket

He stops you “Hold it for me”

“Kay”

“Page me when you get home”

“Kay��

He opens the door for you “Drive safe gorgeous” he says with one last kiss to your forehead

“Stay safe” he nods and closes the door for you

Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize

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jellymellydraws · 5 months

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Masterlist ~ <<Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter >>

Astarion x Dark Urge Chapter 10 Rating: E Tags: Angst, Fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, two guarded people fall in love so hard it makes them stupid

Chapter Summary:

Gale had spent some time studying the tadpole they got from the Grove, but his talk on its potential benefits gets snuffed out by Lae'zel. Rose needs to confront the gith about her reactions to any tadpole talk around camp. The party makes camp outside the blighted village, strategize next steps for the goblins, then take a much needed bath in the river. Privately, Rose investigates some scars she discovered over the last few days.

“I’ve been thinking—”

“I didn’t think you could stop,” Shadowheart giggled with a smirk.

“Like you’d die if you stopped, really,” Astarion added, a smirk highlighting his own tone.

Gale had been preparing breakfast, as he usually did. But before this very usual morning, he had an unusual several nights of camp where he turned a bottle in his hand. The tadpole within it wriggled, desperate to connect through the glass of its prison. Even when Rose had asked him to turn in early, he was adamant about studying the parasite which plagued them. She wondered when they would hear the excited ramblings of a wizard who made a discovery.

Maybe this was the morning.

“Ha ha, not so smart to tease the one holding the food,” Gale mocked, both plates meant for them being held out of reach. Alfira and Wyll joined the breakfast circle, who were chuckling when custody of the meals were awarded to them.

“Come on,” the high elf scoffed, “it was just a joke.”

“I don’t hear him laughing,” Rose yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eye.

Astarion clicked his tongue and put on his signature pout. One of many masks she became familiar with. Maybe they’ll stumble on a bag of holding so he could stash them all in one place.

Either out of pity or because he was well-humored, Gale extended a plate to Astarion. One she promptly swiped with a smirk.

“How dare you—“

“It’s just a joke,” Rose sat down with her plate of food.

“You cheeky pup.”

“Ugh,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes, “Gale keep the plate. If these two are going to start flirting this early, I’m better off without an appetite.”

“Feeling jealous?” Astarion playfully slinked an arm around her shoulders, earning a scoff from the cleric.

“Hardly.”

“Anyway,” Gale gave the elf his plate at last, “as I was trying to say earlier, I was studying the tadpole specimen we got from the grove. After what we witnessed the other day, I did some experimenting!”

Yes! She knew it! Time for an informative brief from Gale of Waterdeep. Today’s topic: the tadpole.

“We know that our tadpoles are modified, but we don’t know why or how. An oddity on its own, but then we also have witnessed — first hand, might I add— that we not only connect to each other through these tadpoles, but also with anyone that has this brand of the ‘Absolute!’”

They already knew that. Well, Rose knew that. It was pretty obvious the day they ran into those siblings on the road. When they called her a True Soul, when Sazza changed her tune and became subservient. She quickly glanced at the others to read their expressions. Most of it was expected: Wyll and Shadowheart listening respectfully, Alfira looking up with her big doe eyes in admiration, Lae’zel also giving Gale the attention she found him worthy of (the fact he was worthy was high praise on its own), and Astarion looking bored out of his mind as he pushed food across his plate. Considering how intensely some were taking in the information, it was clear that most of the others came to a similar understanding. Gale was verifying what they already knew, which was better than him debunking it entirely. A small victory, she told herself.

“It begs the question, what more can these tadpoles do?” Gale paused to take a few bites from his plate. For someone who was eager to share his theories, why would he give pause now? Astarion, she noticed, had stopped playing with his food and stared up with interest. By the way the wizard grinned, it must’ve been what he hoped for, “Illithids don’t use magic from the weave the way that we do, they are in another league of ability known as Psionics.”

“Is that more or less powerful than the weave?” Astarion asked.

“Ah, that’s—”

“Does it matter?” Lae’zel hissed, setting aside her emptied plate.

“Well, yes,” the elf answered matter-of-factly, “if it’s more powerful, maybe we should consider tapping into these psionics that our wizard friend is talking about.”

“I haven’t finished—”

“We cannot trust anything that came from ghaik, any further use of them is only going to turn us faster!”

No matter the attempt, Gale could not regain control of his morning announcement.

Rose adjusted in her seat. Lae’zel might’ve gotten friendlier with the group, but the tadpole situation was still a sore spot. She felt her plate lighten in her hand, and was relieved to see Shadowheart was willing to hold her plate if she had to intervene. Gods she hoped it wouldn’t come to that, first thing in the morning.

“Hmmm but there hasn’t been a tentacle in sight,” Astarion continued while waving a forkful of food. He pointed it directly at the gith to punctuate his next point, “maybe this Absolute Goddess has something to do with that?”

“So you would risk it?!”

“Why not?! While I don’t particularly mind the little pest, there are some strengths that I think it’s taken from me. If it has something to offer, why not accept?”

“I see you like to flash a pretty smile to pretty faces— how effective do you think that would be once your teeth begin rotting out of your maw? When that hair, which you spend precious hours to style—“

“It doesn’t take hours.”

“It won’t take any time once it melts off your head.”

Lae’zel made her point.

Gale couldn’t find it within himself to continue the topic after that. Another conversation about their tadpoles snuffed out before it could really begin. Shadowheart leaned towards Rose’s ear as she returned the plate. Rose glared at the cleric.

“Don’t.” She whispered, warningly. Shadowheart leaned away without a word, but kept that judgemental face about her.

While they were breaking down camp, Rose approached Lae’zel. It was hardly the private counsel she wanted to have, but the conversation was overdue.

“Lae’zel,” Rose stopped in front of the perfectly packed tent, “this needs to stop.”

The gith glared up at her as she hoisted the bag onto her back.

“I thought you stronger than to let your infatuation cloud your judgement,” she accused, leaning close to Rose’s face.

The assassin stood firm, arms crossed and expression unwaveringly. Tone, even and calm.

“And I thought you stronger than to lose your temper so over a simple question.”

“You’re right, I am stronger. Perhaps I’m wasting time here when I should be looking for my kin.”

“Then why haven’t you done that? You’ve had plenty of chances to leave our little camp and go off on your own. But you don’t.”

Lae’zel snarled. There it was again, that temper. She made a great warrior, for sure, but one mentio of their peril and she unravels. Rose narrowed her eyes. The tadpole wriggled, connecting briefly to the one in front of her. It didn’t take much prodding to feel the anger, but somewhere beneath it she could sense something else…

“You’re afraid,” Rose realized, flatly.

“Never.”

She sighed through her nose, taking a measured step back from the gith.

“Lae’zel, if you want nothing to do with the tadpoles, that’s your business—“

“It is all—“

“Let me finish!”

The whole camp was watching them by now, it became uncomfortably clear. Rose shot a glare at the crowd, who quickly turned away and tried to look busy with literally anything else. They failed miserably with the charade.

“We need each other. If some of us want to pursue the tadpole’s potential, that is our business.” She lifted a hand to stop the gith from interrupting, again, “if any of us start to turn, you’ll be within your right to kill us. On the spot.”

She watched her expression closely. Though her words were fully sincere, she knew it was still a longshot for Lae’zel to believe them. But something must have landed true, because the gith relaxed her stance. Not her face, but that was a harder ask.

“The reason I haven’t worried about our predicament is because I trust you enough to handle it if we start to lose ourselves.”

“If that were true, why do you insist on entertaining the foolish thought of embracing it?”

“Because it’s clear that we’re not dealing with a regular mindflayer parasite— you even acknowledge as much. And if the goblins are benefitting from psionics, then we need to be able to counter them. I’m trying to consider all the options available to us. I can’t do that if you shut down every conversation that you disagree with.”

Lae’zel ‘chk’ed in response, tearing her eyes away from Rose in favor of the ground.

“Fine. I’ll hold my tongue…as long as I still have one.”

Alfira refused to let the awkward silence follow their travel. The casual strumming of her lute was a nice touch, even if it wasn’t appreciated by everyone. Particularly Astarion, who loudly protested the start of her musical march. It didn’t seem to bother the bard, who gracefully pranced to the back of the line as she played. If it wasn’t for the violin on his back, Rose would forget that he ever played an instrument.

The quiet Artiste stalked to the front of the marching order. Gale was continuing to plead his case for the tadpole’s potential when an arm draped around Rose’s shoulder.

“What’s say you,” Astarion asked in his oh-so charming tone, “these tadpoles could prove useful, why not take advantage of their power?”

Gale looked like he would protest to the interruption, but he looked just as interested in Rose’s answer as the elf. She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“I’m not going to dismiss it so quickly,” she admitted.

“I knew I liked you.”

“But we’d be fools to dive in before we understand the consequences,” she eyed both the wizard and their mischievous friend, “it could be about as useful as a cursed trinket.”

“Ugh, now you’re ruining it. Go back to agreeing with me.”

“No,” she playfully rolled her shoulder, letting his arm fall off her.

The sun hung low in the sky, challenging them to travel through the night unless they found a place to camp soon. The lute strumming had nearly stopped. Now only a chord played every few steps, but softly at the back of the line. Astarion was beginning to whine, Lae’zel was ready to end his suffering (and hers).

When the trees opened before them, they were met with the glorious sight of a bridge leading to the gates of a village. The sound of flowing water graced their ears, inviting them to draw nearer. Without crossing the bridge itself, they stared at the village entrance. There was little movement at the gate, not even guards. but what she could see were the broken carts and motionless bodies littering the path in front of them.

Goblins were there, alright. As expected, no survivors. She could only imagine the state that village would be in once they entered.

“This is it,” Rose sighed with the exhaustion of a day’s travel, “the temple should be just past this village.”

“Might be best to call it a night,” Wyll added with a hand clasping on her shoulder.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’d be able to take on a whole village of goblins,” Alfira agreed with a soft strum.

“Let’s scout the area and find a spot for camp,” she commanded the group with a small smile, “preferably one near the water.”

Seeking a campsite by the water somehow managed to be an unreasonable request. But not impossible. There was a spot downhill from the village and right by the river, perfect for them to set up for the night. Maybe longer, depending on what they decide. The trick would depend on if the goblins ever left the village for their water, or if their source was opposite of their direction.

For the goblins’ sake, it better be as far from the campsite as possible.

The command tent was built around a pile of large, flat stones, large enough to spread the map out. Shadowheart cast a series of lights to illuminate the tent. It was more cramped around than it would have been with a regular table, but they don’t really get that luxury when traveling light.

Rose twisted the charcoal stick between her fingers as she stared at their plans. Lae’zel, Wyll, and Shadowheart were closest to the map, either pointing at locations or creating marks on their personal travel maps.

“The temple is a walk away, we should ambush it in the cover of night,” Lae’zel insisted, trailing a nail from the village to the temple on the map.

“I want to know what we would be walking into first,” Rose’s brows furrowed while scanning the map for potential options, “Escape routes, enemies— how big is this horde actually ? Who’s leading them?” She directed the questions to the whole tent. When no one answered, she continued, “we were under the impression that they’re working with Drow— but Sazza talked about a Goblin Priestess as her commander…”

“We’re going to trust what a goblin says?” Shadowheart questions with repulsion, “She could be lying.”

“Exactly. We need more information before we go in. If Sazza double-crosses us, we need to be prepared. No surprises.”

“We shouldn’t have any trouble walking right in. Why don’t we just do that?” Astarion casually suggested, leaning against the ‘table’ as he flipped his dagger in boredom.

The whole tent focused on Astarion, who was just now realizing that he was, in fact, the center of attention. Although, maybe it was not quite the kind of attention he was hoping for. Lae’zel opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. Thinking better of it, from the looks of it. Rose crossed her arms, looking at the elf who didn’t seem to be paying attention to most of their conversation.

“Elaborate,” she commanded.

“Um…” he stammered, holding the blade still as he looked between their companions and their leader, “well they seem to think we have some sort of ranking above them, so…oh I don’t know? We tell them we’re True Souls and that sorts it out?” He waved his hand casually at the grimaces thrown his way, “don’t look at me like that, Rose is the details person here!”

Chaos broke out within the tent as arguments about tadpoles and goblins took over their whole meeting.

Kill the guards.

Go around the village.

Monitor the camp.

Tap into the tadpoles (somehow).

Rose pondered any idea she could catch, and stared at the map calculating each move. Kill the guards? Well, they’d need to know which ones were the guards. Go around the village? Reasonable. But they didn’t know if there were any patrols that would give them trouble along the way. Monitor the camp? First they needed to get to the camp…hence the other ideas.

On top of that, they didn’t know when their luck with the tadpole would run out. But based on what they knew at this point, they had time. She had to believe they had time.

Okay…so where does that leave them?

Using night was not a bad idea, but they would need to be wise about it. The temple was a straight shot if cutting through the village, but there had to be other routes. Three of the pebbles bunched over their campsite were pushed towards the temple marker. She stood back and eyed the divided pebbles which made up their party. Next to the temple she quickly scribbled ‘Sazza???’

Where was she? The storm would have slowed her down, but they were only half a day behind.

Another dark line was dragged from the village towards the grove, concluding that if the goblins were going after the grove, they would’ve run into their forces over the last few days.

Their information wasn’t going to get them much further. Not without proper reconnaissance.

Gods, she hated surprises.

“Listen up!” Rose clapped her hands together, reigning in the chaos.

Good thing she did, since it had escalated dramatically. Alfira had retreated to a safe corner of the tent, protected by Wyll who was between everyone else and Lae’zel. The gith was snarling in Astarion’s face, who met her with a balanced expression of a glare and smirk.

Wonderful…

“Lae’zel,” she began, tapping a spot on the map, “find a clear path to the temple. Use the cover of night to hide from potential patrols. Wyll, go with her for backup. Establish multiple routes and a good place to set up a scouting post so we can keep eyes on it during the day. We have more than enough people to cover watches while you are gone. We can sort out finer details after we get your report in the morning.”

“See? I knew she’d come up with a plan,” Astarion slinked away from the face-off, “now are we done? I’d like to take advantage of our riverside camp and get the muck and grime washed off.”

She waved him off, adjourning their entire meeting. Wyll and Lae’zel stayed behind to talk more about this scouting plan with Rose.

It was fascinating what could be learned by a simple wash schedule. Lae’zel didn’t care if she was joined by anyone or not. Expected. Most of the others preferred privacy, which worked out perfectly when they learned that Alfira was the only one who had soap in their pack. Astarion had disappeared after he left the command tent, but hadn’t returned. Honestly, he looked to be the type to take long baths, so it wasn’t too questionable.

By the time it was Rose’s turn to bathe, the soap had shrunk to less than half its size. Alfira smiled apologetically, as if she was to blame.

“Unless you used all that soap yourself, you don’t need to apologize,” she assured the tiefling before walking to the riverside.

She maintainted regular steps until she was certain that she was out of view. Then it was a sprint to the river. She shoved the end of her torch into the mud, kneeling by the riverbank as she peeled her top off and tossed it behind her. The firelight bounced off the water, giving her enough reflection to investigate. Shaky fingers traced disfigured lines that marked her front.

During their night in the owlbear cave, she first discovered them. It was a routine check for injuries, but none had been found. Instead, she felt them. Cuts that had long healed, but too precise in their trajectories to be from battles. She refused to let anyone look her over until she could make sense of them. And tonight, she could.

Finally, in the firelight, with the river to act as her mirror, she saw them. Clean. Precise. Surgical. Scars that healed over incisions. Her stomach twisted as she looked at them. Heart racing. There was something terribly wrong about these marks.

Her breathing quickened, trying to remember. Begging herself to remember.

What happened to me?

Tracing along a line down the center of her chest. Her fingers curled, mimicking the act of peeling flesh back. Flashes of red crossed her mind. Drumming in her ears.

No, focus. I need to focus, damn it.

She took a shaky breath, stilling her racing thoughts. Okay. She could do this. With a gulp, she looked back to herself. Her hair was sticking to her forehead, sweat covering her brow. But she was in control. Full control.

An incision down her chest. The urge to open it up. Suddenly her chest tightened, as if she could feel her own ribs cracking. Somehow she could tell this would’ve been a cut made to get in her chest. Was it her heart? Had there been something wrong with it, once?

At the base of her ribcage, the line forked into two paths above her stomach area. She concentrated on her breathing, allowing herself again to follow her muscle memory. Curling of fingers, desiring to pull back the cut flesh. Her other hand moved downwards. To…her organs? Which ones? She couldn’t figure out those details.

The other was much the same. A long, precise scar stretching down her stomach. Another place to give access to some of her vital innards.

She wondered if she had done these to herself, or someone she trusted? Some of the cuts overlapped with each other, signifying that she had been cut open at different points in time, partially healed, then had been cut open again.

Another bunch of questions she needed answers to. She reached for her pack when she heard the rustling nearby. Instintively, she pulled out a dagger and threw it in the direction of the sound. It thunked into a tree, and the rustling stopped. Rose scrambled to her feet, pulling her shirt back over her head.

“Show yourself!”

Next Chapter >>

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hummingbird-of-light · 18 days

Text

In Our Favor

Part 187

McCoy

“I’m sorry,” McCoy said as he and Christine left the dining hall. “I did forget what time we said.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Christine said. “As long as I get a good grade on this paper, we’ll call it square.” She grinned. “I know how you two can’t stand to be apart from each other.”

“Hey!” McCoy laughed. “What are you and Roger doing?”

“Well,” Christine began, holding out her hand to catch the rain. “I don’t think we’re having a picnic anymore.” She shook her hand back down to her side. “So I’m not sure. We’ll think of something. At least we get to see each other.”

“And I know you’re glad for that,” McCoy smiled.

“It’s so dumb to think of all the time we wasted trying to hide, when my parents knew anyways,” Christine bemoaned. “If they had been clearer or me less stupid.” She shook her head ruefully.

“Hey! Don’t think like that,” McCoy said quickly. “Besides, if you and your parents had understood each other, what would me and Scotty have done?” He grinned. Christine swatted at his arm playfully and McCoy laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Christine said. “No pity party for me.”

“I know what you mean though Chris,” McCoy said in a more serious voice. “I wish you guys hadn’t felt like you needed to keep secret, but I am grateful for your help.”

“I know. And I’m glad I got to. You two were made for each other.”

“What are you and Roger going to do? When we finish.” McCoy used his free hand to gesture around at the campus.

A soft sigh left Christine.

“Probably a space station somewhere. Maybe somewhere planetside. The benefit of studying medicine; I can go most anywhere Roger’s research will take us.”

“That’s not bad,” McCoy nodded. “Especially planetside.”

Christine gave him a sidelong glance.

“How are you coming with flying?”

McCoy let out a sigh. “Some days are better than others,” he shrugged. “I know the controls backwards and forwards now, but when we’re in the simulator, when it moves…” He trailed off and shiver went down his back.

“You’ll get there Leo,” Christine said comfortingly.

“Guess you better stay out of trouble then Jim,” Sulu laughed as Jim told them about Pike’s class having a reunion visit.

“Who is Christopher?” Aporal asked.

“He was the headmaster at our academy,” Jaylah replied.

“I’d say you’d like him,” Sulu said, “but I think you’re a person who likes to decide that on your own.”

“That’s true,” Aporal agreed.

“Well, I’ll say I hope you like him,” said Uhura.

“We shall see,” Aporal said and went back to eating.

“How many students has he sent here over the years?” Christine wondered.

Jim laughed. “He could probably crew a starship with his students.”

“So he’ll have more people to see than just us,” McCoy said, lifting an eyebrow at Jim.

“Maybe, Bones, maybe. But we have something his other students don’t have!”

“Aye lad? And what’s that?” asked Scotty.

“Me!” Jim exclaimed.

The other groaned and like Aporal went back to eating.

Part 188

Scotty

After lunch, Scotty and Leonard headed back to their room. The rain had quickly gotten worse and therefore they couldn't spent the afternoon outside. It was kinda a good thing. They still had a bit of homework to finish.

It didn't take them too long, but it was stressful, and once they were done with their work, the boys lay down in bed, ready for some relaxation.

Leonard reached for their book which was resting on his nightstand, however Scotty quickly stopped him by grabbing the prince's arm with his hand. Leonard gave him a surprised look and the Scotsman slowly shook his head before he rested it on his husband's chest.

"Let's... just enjoy the silence for some time, can we?"

"Sure." Scotty could hear the frown in Leonard's voice without even looking at him. A hand started to gently run through his hair. "You okay, leannan?"

The Scotsman nodded against Leonard's chest.

"Aye, it's just... those last few days have been loud and exhausting. I... kinda miss the lake back at boarding school. It was so quiet and peaceful there."

Whenever he had needed time for himself, time to escape from reality and relax, Scotty had always gone to the lake. It had always been a nice, soothing place and it had become even better when Leonard had stepped into his life.

Here, at the academy, they didn't have a private place like that except for their room. It was kinda sad.

"I see. Well, we can stay quiet for as long as you want. Just... let everything sink in."

The hand kept on caressing his head and Scotty leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. This was good. He really needed it.

They stayed that way for a very long time, gathering strength for the upcoming week, and when they eventually headed to dinner, Scotty felt much more energetic again.

On Wednesday the big day finally arrived. Jim was beaming with joy as they watched the landing shuttles, carrying the people who had graduated thirty years ago.

There were lots of elderly men and women, though many people probably weren't able to come due to private reasons or due to work. After all, lots of ships were out there, fulfilling their missions.

Scotty kept his eyes fixed on the groups of people, scanning the various species, but Jaylah was the first of them to find the headmaster in the crowd.

"There!" she exclaimed and pointed at a small group of men leaving a shuttle just then.

Jim's grin widened even more as he started to move, running through the crowd.

"Chris! Hey Chris! Over here!" The blond boy waved his hand and once he reached the headmaster, he threw his arms around him.

Scotty couldn't help the amused but soft smile forming on his face as he watched that sight. If Francine was like a mother to Jim, Christopher Pike was like a father.

Slowly, the rest of friends followed Jim and when they came to a halt, Pike looked at all of them. He chuckled.

"Hello everyone. I see the whole gang is still together, huh?"

"Of course! I'll make sure that all of us will be placed aboard the same ship one day!" said Jim, proudly raising his chin. Pike slowly shook his head, the soft smile not leaving his lips for even one second.

"Nothing has changed."

He let his eyes wander and found three young people standing behind his former students.

Aporal, Eugene and Cora. They had been curious enough to join their friends after Jim hadn't stopped talking about the famous Headmaster Pike.

"But I see that your crew has grown."

The older man gave the three of them a gentle nod.

"Hello there. I'm Christopher Pike. I was responsible for these young men and women for the last few years."

"Yeah, we know. Heard a lot about you, sir," Aporal said, sending Jim a meaningful glance. The human boy just grinned.

"This is Aporal. He's a real grump, but he's okay. And those two are Cora and Eugene."

"Hello, sir."

"It's nice to meet you."

Greetings were quickly exchanged before they all headed inside to have lunch.

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #in our favor

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jun-ipher · 10 months

Text

The Red Trump Card

chishiya x y/n

chapter 7 is out now

excerpt:

It is his stare that wakes her up to reality. She cannot find any traces of the secret lust she was hoping to find. No dirty fantasy of having her walk around in his shirt, glimpses of nakedness where the hems end, imagining what it would be like once he gets to take them off her later. Nothing of such. She only finds genuine concern. His brow furrowed. His lips pursed. Lines in the corner of his eyes that come with age; from stress and laughter; from living; from having to exist in this damned land. She takes it and wears it. Aguni takes his time studying her, pulling at the fabric to cover her breasts better, his frown deepens even more when he realises the shirt is not long enough to cover the entirety of her bare ass on display. The other people around them are watching. Not all of them. Most have better things to do than peep into someone else’s private moments like that. There are still some people boring into them. It makes her feel even more awkward now that she knows there is no tension from him. It’s all in her head. How embarrassing. “Thanks for that,” she mumbles faintly. Surprisingly, he hears her anyway. He manages a smile, most likely becoming aware by now that something must have happened without him realising, and pats her shoulder. “Go now,” he encourages. “Make some friends.” She has to hold back a laugh. She chokes out a strangled ‘yes’, ignoring his annoyed frown, and leaves. Y/N goes to the bar. She is tempted. She is so tempted. When the bartender asks her what she wants, she is so close to ordering a cocktail. Instead, she goes for a berry smoothie and accepts the man’s judging stare. When she lifts the tall glass off the bar table and takes a sip, she is proud of herself. Another day, another slay. And if she continues like this, this time tomorrow she will be three days sober. It’s Niragi who meets her at the bar when she is perched on the very edge of the bar stool, propped up by her elbows. It would be almost comical the way he cartoonishly props his own elbow on the bar and faces her with a smirk playing on his lips, tongue coming out to lick at them, except for the way Y/N’s throat bobs at the weak attempt of swallowing the lump stuck there. She’s not scared of Niragi in the way she is scared of death, because she is not scared of death. Niragi, however, is worse than death itself. She knows that from all the hushed words spoken behind corners in dark hallways when the party is over, and everyone is asleep. Two days at the Beach feel like two months. “Can I help you?” She is the first one to say something. Y/N tries hard to ignore his stare. She knows Aguni is backing her up, and so is the gun strapped to her. His rifle is laughing at her pathetic attempt of self-defence. “There are plenty of ways in which you can help me.” He clicks his fingers at the bartender and orders another drink, then his full attention comes back to her. “But I promised Boss I would take care of his little girl.” His words do nothing to reassure her when his fingers are making their way up her thigh and under the hem of Aguni’s black tanktop she was forced to wear. “It’s a pity, really. You look so lonely, I can’t help but want to keep you busy.”

#the red trump card #trtc #chishiya imagine #alice in boderland x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland

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universalfanfic · 7 months

Text

A little oneshot inspired by a comment on AO3 (@hurniburn)

Teen Lex gets a drunk call from Peyton. She says some strange things.

Lex sat at the desk in his dorm room and frowned as he read one of his textbooks. His roommate, his friend, was gone for the evening so he had the space to himself. There was a party in the woods and Duncan had managed to get a pity invite from one of the socially anxious girls that trailed after Annalise and Peyton all the time.

Duncan tried to encourage Lex to join him, claiming this could be their ‘chance to be accepted’, but Lex was a realist. At best he’d be ignored, at worst someone would find a way to humiliate him. Especially with Oliver there. Maybe this could be Duncan’s moment, but he wouldn’t have a chance if Lex came.

It wasn’t like Lex wanted to go to a party anyway. He’d study instead.

His cell phone rang as he reread a paragraph for the third time and he readily accepted the distraction.

“Hello?”

A string of wild giggles answered his prompting and Lex cringed.

“Hi!” Peyton’s voice chirped back. Lex couldn’t stand the tone of voice she consistently spoke in. Like everything was a question.

“Why are you calling me?” He asked dully. He had half a mind to just hang up on her; still might if she started mindlessly rambling again.

“Duncan told me to call you,” she said. “They keep giving me drinks.”

“So you’re drunk calling me. Great.”

“Annalise said great,” Peyton told him. “She said the drinks are good; they’re good.”

Irritation bubbled up in Lex and his scowl deepened. Using the sparse clues from Peyton’s words, he could only guess that either Duncan was trying to use her to convince Lex to join the party, or everyone had grown irritated enough with her drunken state to try and pass her off on someone else. But she was their problem right now. They could walk her back to her dorm themselves.

“Go back to your room and go to sleep,” he told her. Usually she listened, as long as there wasn’t another source of influence there to sway her.

“I feel funny,” she admitted. “Did you know Orion has two faces? But I don’t know him.”

“Orion?” Lex parroted back in confusion. “The constellation? What are you talking about?”

She giggled mindlessly again, but the laugh cracked near the end and devolved into something more sad. Almost a choked back sob.

“I feel funny.” She said again.

Lex closed his textbook over a pencil and sat back in his chair as he gave her his full focus. These weren’t the normal sort of things Peyton said. For a split second, his heart skipped a beat as he wondered if she was back to being his Peyton. But, no. She wasn’t coherent enough. She still sounded too dreamy and nonsensical.

“Peyton,” he said slowly, “why do you feel funny?”

Peyton hummed.

“I feel funny because my head feels funny. Wondering feels bad.”

That. That was a little interesting. She nearly made a solid, definitive statement, and usually she shied away from those, as if she was too afraid the smallest opinion would offend someone.

“What are you even wondering about?”

An enthusiastic cry from the party crowd rose up in the background and cut off anything Peyton might have said. Annalise’s voice, loud and somewhere passed tipsy, came through the phone speaker.

“C’mon girl! This party is killer; we’re having a blaaast!”

“I have to go; we’re having a blast,” Peyton told him.

She hung up, or Annalise hung up for her, before Lex could reply and he sat for a moment just staring at his phone.

Peyton was definitely drunk, he decided. Clearly. She was normally kind of strange, but even that was a bit out of her wheelhouse. And didn’t drinking usually make people emotional and dramatic? Or particularly annoying.

Lex sighed and opened his textbook again to try and finally absorb that last paragraph. Girls were weird and Peyton was weirder. He ignored the pang of disappointment that she was still her usual self.

#personal #my writing #iddwtd #this might've been helpful in the actual story #but i didn't know what i was doing then #might add it if I ever do a rewrite

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kirliao · 2 years

Text

evermore: short series

fandom: top gun maverick

character(s): various members of the dagger squad

a/n: wrote the initial draft after watching an episode of quantum leap. yall raymond is so good in it?? and if i could get myself back to giffing again, i could make logan aus. anyway happy top gun fall! let’s get our hearts broken :)

track two: champagne problems ( aka “i broke my own heart writing this” )

his callsign harkens back to a blissful, serene afternoon back at your shared alma mater. well, it was a blissful, serene afternoon before you had foolishly tripped over something and in a swift second, worksheets and notes flew around you like giant confetti for an incoming pity party. you felt that it disturbed the peaceful scenery you had been enjoying. that, and the glass face of your watch had cracked upon impacting the ground after you’d tripped. great.

you felt that you had disturbed it and you felt a heavy weight in your heart for being such an embarrassment and why were you so clumsy and -- well, your thoughts never did finish when a young man came out of nowhere and offered to help you with your notes. so.. coordinated and orderly and he'd returned most of the papers to you before you could even think about asking for his name.

"i'm logan. logan lee. we have sociology together." he introduced himself anyway. he had a great smile, you thought.

you ended up seeing more of his smile as the two of you became friends, later study buddies, then eventually, lovers.

logan had told you of his dreams to fly. how he thinks that mankind was meant to touch the heavens. you thought it was the most romantic thing in the world. you thought he was the most romantic man in the world.

he’d shown it consistently, not just with his words but his actions. lavish dinners both in his apartment and when you both go out to restaurants. nights spent at his place cuddled together on a plush sofa. he looked after you and made you feel special. in turn, you helped him wherever possible. loved him with what you had.

truth is, there was a part of you that felt like it had to end at some point. logan was nearly perfect in so many ways. the problem was that you didn't think you were.

always feeling like you were two steps behind, lagging in what should be a path that you could be walking in side-by-side with him.

you'd found yourselves perusing through the school archives one day. one of you had some project due for a humanities class when you came across some history about the dorm you had stayed in during your first year at yale.

"huh. turns out it was a mental institution back in the day." logan noted, causing you to give a wry smile and to utter out a reply before you could stop yourself. "well, looks like it's made for me then."

you could feel his eyes boring into you, a suspended smile before he cleared his throat and carried onto other information about other things. the silence from that moment never did leave your mind.

failing a class or two led to you graduating later than him. then the dinners with his family when you finally let him introduce you made you feel out of place. not awful, per se, just....inadequate.

the lee family were nice enough, but they all had that air to them; or maybe it was just amplified insecurity stemming from years of hearing (and listening) to the voices in your head.

that they were better than you, this whole family of overachievers. legacy graduates from well-repute universities and their accomplishments displayed alongside the goofy childhood pictures of logan that both his mom and sister were all too eager to share after dinner. the exchanges were warm, but it stopped there. it was as if you couldn’t quite reach out or connect.

you never did tell logan after that maybe spending more time with his family was in the cards for you. you couldn’t. not after they had been so welcoming and nice. how could you even explain that it might not have been enough?

however, about a month or two before the holidays, logan had planned for the two of you to spend some time somewhere in the mountains. he had rented this gorgeous cabin; something out of a magazine that you'd read at the doctor's office before your sessions.

upon seeing the rest of his family's cars parked outside when you both arrived, you could already tell something was off.

logan's family was fancy. however, they were not throw-a-party-whenever-they-like kind of fancy. strike one.

the bottle of dom perignon on the foyer table meant business and you weren't sure it was the kind of business you liked. you and logan would never splurge for something like that, for whatever reason. strike two.

and while the two of you liked to dance, you usually did it in the privacy of your apartments. this slow tune guiding the two of you into a familiar, yet nervous, dance could almost bring tears to your eyes. and not the happy kind. strike three.

"you had made me the happiest man for all these years we've been together..." was how it started. the rest of it seemed to blur together. his warm smile, his romantic words..

it didn't hit you that the look in his eyes turned from strikingly loving to concerningly desparate until he was on both knees, your hand in one of his and his other one holding a box containing the most beautiful ring you've ever seen laid neatly inside.

"please..i want you to marry me."

you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and you pulled your hand back.

your lips quivered, "i'm sorry. i'm..i'm so sorry, logan. i .."

it didn’t register that the heels that clicked against the floor was yours until you realized that you were slowly stepping away from him, his pained expression slowly blurring as tears took over before you turned and all but ran away. "i.. i'm sorry. i’m so, so sorry..."

cinderella was one of your favorite fairy tales as a child. the part where she ran when the clock struck midnight gave you a thrill when you first read it. inwardly cheering her on to get home before the world could find out that she really wasn’t the princess they thought she was. hoping for her to be safe, away from the glaring judgment of the world she lived in. this felt like your cinderella moment, but you were grown enough to know that it wouldn’t have a happy ending.

upon returning to your shared room, you had packed your things and left almost immediately. out the backdoor through the kitchen and you walked. through the winds and the dropping temperatures, you walked until you had reached a convenience store in order to gain your bearings and call a cab to the nearest airport. buy the last ticket for a flight back to your apartment.

no more words needed to be said.

you just weren't ready.

years later, you'd hear about logan again from mutual friends. they said he'd found someone new. admittedly, some of them think that the new one looked like you.

they said he also managed to get into this prestigious program called ‘top gun’. high chance that he had finally flown like he’s always wanted, like he’s always told you he would.

there was a time he promised to fly you; promised he’d make you see the world differently. that the world was so much more beautiful once you’ve seen it from up high. there was a time you would’ve agreed.

sitting on your desk was the watch that had a crack on it, back from the day you two first met. he had offered to get it fixed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to have it done. call it practicality or some weird sense of sentimentality, but the damn thing still functioned. and now, after all these years, it did the double duty of reminding you of him.

you made circles on the fogged up windows of your apartment; light snow in the northern states reminded you of that night. and while it was painful to remember just how much you've hurt and how much he's hurt, you preferred all of this over the what if.

because the what if wasn’t a happy ending. you knew that yourself. it would just be a bandaid to a much bigger problem.

and you knew that you'd rather have him be happy, even if wasn't with you.

#logan yale lee #top gun maverick #logan yale lee x reader #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun x y/n #top gun x you #logan yale lee x you #top gun yale #writes.

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year

Note

BUBBLES!!!!! I hope you had a lovely lovely day, my darling!!!

I must tell you the biggest plot twist of my week (...okay maybe my day, I'm a bit of a drama queen) SO I study English and I have a class of oral expression on Wednesday afternoon and I have a cool ass teacher who makes us play games every week AND TODAY she said we'd do something on puns I was very very giddy, getting all of my best Ellie puns ready and the game was some sort of diction game? like we were in pairs, one of us had to read the pun and go in the class and repeat it to the other who had to write it (goal being to finish writing all the puns first) AND my partner just comes and she goes "what did the mermaid—" and I just "WEAR TO HER MATH CLASS??? AN ALGAE BRA!!!!!!!!!" and she was like "YES!!!" anyway goes on a few more times AND THEN I mention to the teacher the famous "did you know diarrhea was hereditary?" and she looks at me and goes "yeah it run in your genes" AND MY OH MY I WAS JUST LGJTSGLGOGIGTG but it's STILL not the end!!!!! my teacher then goes "actually they're from a show, the last of us" AND I JUST LOSE IT and then another student hears me and we kinda just start talking about it and yeah I was over the moon (but then teacher said NO MORE TLOU TALK because we kept mentioning spoilers and stuff linked to the game) OKAY NOW IT'S THE END but I was just too happy not to tell you all about it!!!!!

okay NOW!! yesterday while we were chitchatting about our darling pedrito <3 you mentioned his sexy sexy salt & pepper hair (so 🥵) WHICH OBVIOUSLY MADE ME THINK!!!!! ahem ahem

(this is about post!out-break Joel but I guess it could work for a regular no outbreak Joel who just got old)

he actually HATES his salt&pepper hair. Like...HATE it because it just reminds him of everything he lost in a way? I'm really going to develop the idea, bear with me pls 🥲 he loves you, okay? actually, no, he adores you and you're the only thing keeping him going (with Ellie obv) but you're also very much younger than him now in the society you live, a big age gap is literally the last of anyone's worries—you and Joel included BUT THEN you arrive in Jackson, settle there and get comfortable (you work, Ellie goes to school, you have your cute little home) and Joel starts having those ideas...really bad ideas. To put it simply, your relationship made much more sense when all you had was him because...well you didn't have much choice anyway but now that you're in Jackson? All these young, healthy, cool guys are around and you get along with everyone (of course you do) and everyone loves you (of course they do) and Joel just start thinking what is she actually doing with me? is she staying because she feels like she has to? is she staying out of pity? is she not realizing she could do much better? is she going to realize that soon and just leave? am I going to lose her? And it gets mixed with the fact that he's older, that fact never hit him as hard as it did in that moment While you want to stay at the bar for the party and dance, he's tired and goes sit down, he's half deaf, he can't carry stuff that's too heavy anymore or else he might hurt his back AND his once dark brown hair turn this grayish color And all of this is just...the realization that if he'd met you when he was still in his 30s, he'd be able to do so much more, he wouldn't be this closed off, grumpy old man; he'd bring you flowers and be all romantic and sweet He's just mourning the man he could've been if the pandemic didn't destroy the world and he knows that man would've been so much more worthy of you, of your kindness, the love you've so selflessly offered him through all this. Obviously you end up realizing he isn't feeling great—he's not very subtle about it and he acts really weird like...very un-Joel like lol—and when he finally admits it you just...cradle his face, kiss his stubbled jaw and make sure he's looking at you, not staring at his hands as he does when he feels embarrassed And you reassure him that no, you don't want to date some 30 something dickhead who wants nothing more but to make out at the back of the bar, no you're not staying with him because you feel like you have to or because you don't realize there is better out there— you know exactly what's better out there and it's exactly why you chose him and not another— and of course, you adore his hair, you adore his wrinkles and his hands roughed by the years But you know when you feel insecure about something, words are often not enough? And Joel isn't immune to that, your words do make him feel better but they don't make the insecurities vanish SO you show your man how much you love him and how sexy you find his hair (okay I do realize this sounds kinda sexual, not meant that way but...) You kiss his calloused knuckles more often and allow your gaze to linger a little longer when he comes of the shower with those gorgeous salt & pepper locks, curling over his brow as they dry. You take the time to play with his hair whenever you're on the couch together and voice your feelings more often (not shying away from calling him handsome, gorgeous, etc... or just tell him he looks pretty, that pair of jeans looks nice on you) and yeah, you would have LOVED the pre-outbreak Joel but not because he was young or because he didn't go through what the post-outbreak Joel went through but because, whether it's now, twenty years ago, young, old, he's your man and there's nothing in the world to keep you away from him <3

phewwww that was LONG and I'm pretty sure I still forgot stuff lol but that's basically the idea I had when you mentioned his hair and yes, pedrito's hair >>>>> how can a 47 y/o man look that good is beyond me (guess it's all that coffee he drinks) but yeah I dont know how to finish this ask so im just going to say byeeee ily little bubble 💕🫧

-🪷

Anhhhh I love that you used the joke! I've been navigating through life with them as well. No, but I love situations like this. I love how people are obsessed with this show and I looove when people just chit chat about their hobbies.

I won't add much to your amazing thoughts because I did use them as an inspiration for a story. So thank you for this! I just looooooooove when I see your ask in my box. Now to hope that's you'll have fun reading the story!🤍✨

#come chat with bubbles 🫧#little lily 🪷

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

sweet lies [03.final]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. toxic! megumi, SEXY TOXIC MEGUMI 🥵, toxic college settings, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, explicit smut, car sex, biting, scratching, sukuna is a sex god, MEGUMI WITH A LIP RING, slight angst

note. FINALLY FINISHED THIS SERIES AAAAHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS SERIES TYSM FOR EVERYTHING! lotsa lub lub for each and everyone of you! anyways let me just say...sweet lies sukuna can politely rail me.

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

It’s…a different story when you have to move back and forth between your newly made acquaintance slash fuck buddy, Sukuna, to your actual fuck buddy and crush, Megumi.

Sukuna’s polite enough to not meddle into your business as he’s promised, which you’re extremely thankful for, but you should’ve known the bubble of happiness would pop the moment you stepped out of your apartment. You’ve left your phone unattended and on silent, earbuds always placed inside to ignore Megumi’s calls.

It’s funny, actually, that he’s never replied much to you before other than occasional dick pic and ‘you awake baby?’ but ever since you’ve been…pre-occupied, suddenly you’re on top of his contacts.

You grumble at the vibration of your phone, Megumi’s name flashing on the screen. Back then, you would’ve soared and jumped to pick up the call, voice sultry and toes pointed at the ceiling as you try to keep in your giggles. Now, you’re dreading it, glaring at his annoyingly handsome contact icon that used to make your heart skip a beat. You’re studying in the library and have been doing a terrific job at avoiding him so far, and today won’t be any different.

With a sigh, you completely flip your phone upside down and turn back to your book. You’re on the second line of the paragraph when you feel large, warm hands caress the back of your neck, tilting you upwards to meet his curious – and certainly annoyed – blue eyes.

“Babe,” Megumi drawls out, minty breath fanning your cheeks.

He looks absolutely stunning today, plain and casual yet so handsome in just a black hoodie and sweatpants, his dark hair slicked back to reveal his forehead. For a guy who sure pounded into your skill he had no interest in you that went beyond sexual, he sure did know you well enough, the slight tugging of his lips a sign he could easily read through you. It makes you huff away from him, scooting – trying is the keyword – away from his touch. Megumi’s persistence leads him into you placing you right above his lap and cages you between his arms, chin on your shoulder and his breath floating over your ear.

You can’t help but squirm in embarrassment. Half of the students in the campus library have turned to look at you, and Megumi merely smiles at the attention, audacious enough to kiss the shell of your ear.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! In reality, you really do want to fuck him.

“Why have you been ghosting me?”

“I wasn’t ghosting you, Megumi, it’s called being busy. You ever tried doing homework?”

“You’re so mean to me today,” he pouts, but that pout soon brightens into a smile when you scowl at him. Megumi, albeit never really paying attention to you, your facial expressions have registered as second nature to him now. It doesn’t take much before you soften under his hold, still as mushy as ever, and the nasty fucker basks in it proudly. “There’s a party tonight at Okkotsu’s house, said his parents were away in Greece or some rich family shit. Wanna come and get wasted with me?”

“I don’t know, Megs, I have an essay to finish…”

“Come on, it’s just one night. It won’t hurt,” he shrugs and sways you to side to side, causing your heart to sway side to side in giddiness. It’s this – moments like this – that really fools you into believing Megumi likes you. And that sweet lie only turns sweeter from his words that drip like honey, “Plus, I’ve missed you. Can’t think straight when we’ve been apart for too long, baby.”

You pretend to think about it.

That slight falter in a split second brings about a waver in Megumi’s confident you didn’t think would be possible. Not that you can blame him; you never did have to think about it whenever he invites you to fuck around with him. In fact, you say yes a lot faster than he can ask you something, but something’s been changing you lately – or rather someone.

In the end though, you’ll circle up right where you belong.

Relishing in the rarity of having Megumi coddle you with kisses and affection, his perfume still as boyish and vanilla that deluded you into his faux aura of a sweet boy, you melt one more time. Hopefully, it would transition into a one last time before Megumi’s completely wrapped you around his finger.

“Fine. I’m leaving if it’s too noisy though.”

“Awesome,” Megumi chirps, pulling you in for a long, solid kiss. It takes you back by surprise that you end up wide-eyed above him, stiff hands on his shoulders as you feel him smile through the kiss. Then, just as you’re about to kiss him back with the same passion, Megumi separates himself from you and squeezes your ass. “Promise we’ll have fun, babe. I’ll even bring extra condoms.”

You’re not surprised he left afterwards.

But are you hurt? Most definitely so.

Fuck Fushiguro Megumi.

You were going to leave him, block him, ignore him, avoid him, and carve him out of your heart for good. It’s what you deserve – to be freed from such a toxic guy like him. His pretty face shouldn’t be an excuse for you stick around any longer. That party…well, it would be your last one, you’re never going back!

Still, it’s not that easy to let go. Years of following him around with puppy eyes and spreading your legs open for him like it’s the most natural thing to do isn’t just going to disappear in a day.

It’s for closure, you lie to yourself. That’s all it is – you just need closure. So for one last time, you’ll fuck around with Megumi, then you’d leave him. For good this time.

And yet – your mind still races back to him. His throaty, boyish laughter and the stupid way his eyes crinkle into half moons, his large hands slapping his knees when you tell him a really silly joke. Okay, he didn’t really laugh that much because he’s already passed out in the times you crack jokes after sex, but the few times he did, though? It’s magical, beautiful, phenomenal.

He’s so awful yet so irresistibly charming it’s a huge tug of war between your rational mind and foolish heart.

You couldn’t focus anymore in the library. If you wanted to pass your exams, you need to be somewhere that won’t remind you of him, in a place where a stronger aroma would conceal his lingering scent. The best option was to hang around in a local café closer to your apartment than on campus, and you’ve completely ditched your usual get up to just opting for lookinglike a complete shut in – bags under eyes, heart torn over a stupid boy, the usual Iced Vanilla Latte with the condensation sticking to the wooden table and soft lofi music playing in the background – it’s just the perfect atmosphere for you to wallow in self-pity.

And wallow in self-pity you did, your cheeks squished against the pale furniture while you sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. At the back of your head, Megumi is still giving you one of those slow, long kisses reserved for only when he’s half-sleepy, your heart doing insane back flips as you reminisced whatever moments you once had.

You’re so lost in your own train of thought you fail to hear the scraping of a chair, followed by a heavy body plopping across you. “Well, this is kind of gloomy…”

At the sound of that awfully familiar, deep voice, you sit up straight in a frenzy. Sukuna smirks at your reaction as he loudly sips from his matcha latte – which you would’ve never thought he likes – and sits back at his chair, legs crossed against one another. Unlike Megumi, he doesn’t seem to pose any other malicious intent, so you bury your head in your arms, wishing for the ground to just open up and eat you already.

“I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything except Red Bull and coffee,” you try to explain, “I look horrible.”

“Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous all the time.”

From under your arms, you scowl at nowhere in particular, ignoring the heat rushing from the back of your neck. Sukuna didn’t seem to be flirting with you, and one peek at him swirling his straw inside his cup proves your theories.

However, the offhanded compliment falls so naturally from his lips it takes you a back, and not in a good way. Defensively, you cross your arms against your chest. You knock your toes against Sukuna’s knees under the knees to get his attention, the taller man peering at you under his lashes, tongue innocently swirling around his straw.

I fucking hate men! – is what you want to say, but something different comes out. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you asleep in the morning because of work?”

“It’s my day off,” he sets his cup down, placing his chin on both of his palms. Sukuna’s gaze travels from your face down to the abandoned papers before you, a scowl immediately making its way to his face. “Got too bored to cook so I came here for a light snack. As for you…ew, are you doing essays? I hated that shit in college.”

“Yeah, I hate it too,” you numbly agree, “Can barely function right now.”

Sukuna’s eyes lit up the moment you nearly fall on the table again, his palm quick to caress your cheek. If he can feel the intense heat of your skin from the sudden gesture, he makes no comment about it. Instead, Sukuna hauls you from your seat, nodding to your bag and papers before he rushes you out the door.

When Sukuna said he could make you feel better, the last thing you thought of was going to the nearby park. Now, you find yourself sitting comfortably with him, aggressively licking on the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten you from an ice cream man that passed by. It’s a great way to kill the time – or just to enjoy the day despite the rough start – because the sunlight feels warm on your skin, the trees above you shading you from extra shade.

Next to you, Sukuna is surveying his ice cream with the least interest, his brows furrowed as he notes, “Your crush is toxic. I suggest you cut ties with him and get it all over with.”

In part of making you feel better, Sukuna’s subtly given you clues you could tell him whatever’s going on in your mind. It makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been that obvious that even Sukuna could read you, but you’re thankful that he understood, because you really did want to rant about it. Your friends are just a one call away, but they’re not any better. They’ll keep claiming ‘Megumi just needs time’ because they know it’s what you want to hear to make yourself feel better. Though, every once in a while, you needed to talk to someone who could actually slap the harsh reality at your face, and who else would be more suitable than a mature adult like Sukuna?

Looking at him now, the contrast between your roommate and your crush is immense. Where Megumi is all bark and no bite, all needy and never giving, Sukuna’s silent and compliant, an extremely good listener with the patience of a monk.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yeah it is. Just block his number and avoid him. He’ll get the answer soon enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you groan in defeat. Sukuna faces you with worry written all over his face, seemingly tender in comparison to the tattoos marking his skin. Sometimes, it’s so easy to forget he’s actually a lot more decent than Fushiguro fucking Megumi, but you end up slipping anyway, turning to the sky just as tears prick at your eyes. “I…I love him, okay? I’ve always been in love with him even though I know I’m just someone who warms his bed. I know that much and yet…I can’t seem to let him go.”

Sukuna is silent for a full minute. You thought he’ll offer you some adult wisdom only people like him would now, but Sukuna simply snorts, happily licking at his ice cream as if you didn’t just break down in front of him. “Shit’s tough then.”

“You’re great at comforting, you know that?”

“Oh, I wasn’t comforting you,” he smiles and pats your knee, “Come on, let’s go home. I know just how to take your mind off things.”

With the way he’s caressing your thigh and his voice turned an octave lower, you chastise yourself for feeling aroused when you wanted to cry just seconds ago. But his fingers are inching closer and closer to your inner thigh, and he’s warm and strong – so fucking nice too that perhaps fucking him wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

But like always, Sukuna never fails to surprise you.

You expected he’d take you right to his room the moment you’ve crossed the door, but Sukuna dashes for the TV before carrying a huge blanket and heaps of pillow. You watch there, stunned. He makes quick work of fluffing the pillows before grabbing your wrist and pulling you above him the same way Megumi did a while ago.

The only difference? Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. You’re not intoxicated by his scent. You’re not trying to squirm away from him nor do you feel like a silly little schoolgirl who’s fallen in love at first sight.

Where Megumi is deceivingly charming, Sukuna is more like a strong pillar to lean on, which you do exactly. Your head rests on his shoulder, both of your legs tangled under the blankets he’s covered you with. He’s blinking as Tangled plays on the TV, the faint sensation of his fingers playing with yours comforting and way too comfortable. It should feel weird to hang out with a guy like this without him wanting to shove his dick deep inside you minutes later (your movie marathons with Megumi never really finish as previously planned) but with Sukuna?

It feels natural. It feels great. It feels like home.

You’re gaping at him long before you realize it, one of your hands absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sukuna hums along to I Have A Dream with a small smile on his face, one that forms into a playful glare as he catches you staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Disney is a classic.”

You fight back a smile. “Wasn’t complaining,” burying yourself deeper into his warm embrace, you’re lulled into an early slumber with Sukuna’s humming combined with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His plan worked efficiently – for a moment, you forget your heart was aching to begin with.

After screaming internally for a good hour and a half, you arrive at the party anyway. The stench of weed, alcohol, and sex hanging thickly in the air is more than familiar to you by now. You ignore the catcalls you receive as you make your way to Megumi and fuck, he just had to look even sexier tonight.

He’s ditched his e-boy getup with a plain white shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a Converse, and that black leather jacket he always refused to wear. Megumi really woke up and chose violence today, the minimalistic silver chain around his neck only adding to his appeal. You should’ve run away then – he literally screams trouble – but you’ve never been one to shy from that. Truth be told, you’re only pulled in harder, swaying your hips side to side as you sashay to where he’s laughing along with his friends.

Clearing your throat to get his attention, Megumi finally lays his eyes on you.

You’re glad you took the extra time to dress in your best outfit today – a lace orange mini dress that accentuates your cleavage just enough for a tease, paired with black combat boots and a white purse slung from your shoulder. Pride pumps through your veins when Megumi steps away from his friends, his hands encircling around your waist almost possessively. He smirks through your hair, those addicting lips trailing lower and lower down to your neck until, “You smell like another man.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He doesn’t seem to be mad, perhaps a little jealous judging by how he’s grinding his crotch to your abdomen and tugs you closer, but this is Megumi in the question. He never gets jealous, so you flatten your palms onto his chest, eyes daring and red lips upturned into a smirk as you ask, “Why do you care?”

Megumi raises a brow – which really shouldn’t have been such a sexy thing – at your spunk. Normally, you’re too sweet and submissive to him, never would’ve even dared to dress something as revealing like this, but maybe you’re tired of being sweet.

Maybe this time, you wanted to match Megumi’s spice, fight fire with fire.

Megumi chuckles above your lips and swipes a thumb over your lower lip, humming when the coating doesn’t stain his fingers. He’s mentioned before he hates washing the lipstick off his dick, and the fact you remember that has him groaning at your ear. Unsurprisingly, Megumi’s already hard. He nibbles at the shell of your ear, possessive hands brushing over your collarbone as a silent promise of what he’ll be doing to you tonight.

“Like I said, this pussy is mine.”

You should say no. It’s evident in the darkness of his eyes he’s daring you to say no, but it’s too much. The cramped space that diminishes space until it becomes a myth, his hands rubbing circles at your hip, the glint of his new lip ring under the disco lights and anything, everything about Fushiguro Megumi just makes you feel so weak you can’t say no.

Satisfied with your silence, Megumi sweeps you upstairs. There’s already a round of Truth or Dare going on with a bunch of drunk and half-high college students, the lights red and the aroma of weed thick in the air.

It bothers you so you stick close to Megumi, nose stuck at the collar of his leather jacket. He’s not satisfied with just you sitting next to him; Megumi is territorial. He makes sure you’re comfy and using his lap like a throne, clasping both your hands in your lap while he boredly stares at his friends. Okkotsu Yuta, the host who used to be super shy in his freshman year but became one of the most sought after guys in his junior year, sits across from you in the circle. He’s already giggling in his drunken state while Nobara Kugisaki makes the mistake of choosing dare, flinging her bra straight at a very enthusiastic Yuuji.

They spin the bottle and it lands straight at you. Megumi hums in anticipation at the crook of your neck, his little sounds mixed with his heated touches sending fire straight down your core. It’s inebriating to have him this close, but you need to keep a straight head if you want to survive.

Fighting the arousal pooling at your stomach, you offer a flat smile. “Truth.” As expected, the crowd isn’t pleased. They holler, “Booooo,” with their hands cupped around their mouths, the others snickering at you, though you’re quite satisfied with the safety of your choice. You could be crazy with Megumi, but being crazy around others isn’t something you’re comfortable with.

Thankfully, Yuta shushes the crowd dramatically with a threat he’ll kick them out with his infamous Katana that’s been passed down by an ancestor. Once everyone’s calmed down, Yuta smirks at you, eyes wiggling as he asks, “Who’s the best dick you ever had?”

You don’t think twice about it. Someone else’s face pops up for a split second, but it’s so natural, so obvious that you would say – “Megumi.”

“Speak louder, baby, they won’t hear.”

“It’s you,” you suddenly grow shy at the attention, whatnot with Megumi shamelessly trailing hot kisses down your neck now for everyone to see. He’s shameless as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, all the while keeping eye contact with the other guys whose eyes are zeroed in on the swell of your breasts that are an inch away from popping out from your dress. It’s the best time to submit, the perfect time to give him what he wants, and his expert hands prompt his name out of you with a single suck at your neck.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Damn, Megumi, you’ve trained your bitch well.”

“’Course I did. My dick does all the disciplining,” Megumi cups your jaw to tilt your face at him, cooing at you as you flush embarrassed from everyone’s snickering. “Aw, don’t pout baby, it’s all just harmless jokes. You know I treat you like a goddess when we’re alone.”

“Yo, man, get a fucking room!”

Megumi ignores Yuuji’s comments and makes an offhanded comment the latter is just jealous because he hasn’t had his dick wet in days, ensuing a close dog fight between the guys. Maki has to step in and kick the strawberry haired boy back to his seat, scolding her cousin to back down. Meanwhile, you cling to Megumi like a scaredy-cat, head empty with nothing but the way he’s never hold you this close and proudly before.

Just one last time.

“Megs, your turn.”

“Dare.”

Yuuji slaps his palm over Yuta who usually gives the dares. The older guy rolls his eyes but lets it slide, knowing that Yuuji could also let loose with his dares. Megumi isn’t afraid though, he stays docile around you, leaving little nibbles at your ear and even squeezing your boobs at one point. You know he’ll never back down from Yuuji’s dares, even as his eyes darken with mischief. Now, Yuuji is a nice guy, but something doesn’t quite feel right with the way he’s staring Megumi down.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

Megumi freezes.

Time must’ve stopped because everyone is chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS!” but he makes no move. You stay there, staring up at him wide eyed with your arms looped around his neck. Your heart is beating a mile a minute in your chest the moment Megumi’s eyes gaze down to your lips, smirking as he leans closer, leans down lower, and you close your eyes, waiting for the salacious kiss that would sear at the back of your mind. But it never comes and a gust of wind flies by through you, and before you know it, Megumi’s leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping the cheek of this girl named Alicia who you’ve heard about from your friends before that she’s Megumi’s current pick.

Alicia was never supposed to kiss him back. Your friends told you, they promised you she wasn’t the type of person to fall for the likes of Megumi, and yet she’s smiling through the kiss. You’re still in Megumi’s lap but your vision is of the audience, their jaws dropped and Yuuji slapping Yuta’s thighs. “Oh, shit! That’s gotta hurt!”

You don’t think twice.

You push yourself off Megumi and run out the room, the sounds of their chaotic laughter mocking you to no end. You know – you fucking know – you’d never quite belong in Megumi’s circle. Everyone knows you’re just another one of his bed warmers, and they also know how much you’re hopelessly in love with him, begging, hoping that one day he might return your affections.

It makes perfect sense with each step you take further from the room. This has to be staged, intentional, because there’s no way Yuuji would’ve said that if he didn’t already have an idea maybe Alicia reciprocated Megumi’s feelings.

But what about your feelings?

Does no one really care? Were you really reduced to just another body count?

Your chest squeezed uncomfortably as you pushed past the crowd, ignoring everyone’s protests from how rough you were. You don’t stop until you’ve locked yourself inside a restroom, tears freely falling down your face. With trembling hands, you fall back to the floor, dialing the only person you could trust right now.

He picks up not three rings later, voice still gruff and laced with sleep. “Hello?”

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper, pathetically wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m – can you please pick me up?”

From the other line, you can hear Sukuna shuffling for something in the background. Keys dangle and he locks the door, the sounds of his rushed footsteps so relieving to your senses. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No, I just…I want to go home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”

You text him the address and end the call. From the outside, the bass is thumping so hard it makes your head pound. You’re already feeling dizzy from crying so much, hands clutched around your chest because it hurts so much.

Stupid Megumi, fucking stupid Megumi – but aren’t you the stupider one? You’re the one who chose to keep being with him despite the warning signs. You’ve heard what everyone said about him, his reputation as a fuckboy isn’t exactly a secret, but you hoped, you sincerely hoped you could at least be good enough. But you’re not not good enough – Megumi just simply doesn’t deserve you. You deserve better and he needs to go to hell, so then why does it hurt so much the more you picture how he’s humiliated you like that?

Your dress is beyond soaked from how much you’ve cried. At this point, you just feel achingly numb. The pounding in your head is matched by the soft knocks rapping against the door, and thinking it’s Megumi or one of his lackeys, you wrap your arms around your knees.

“GO AWAY!”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, let’s get you home,” It’s Sukuna. Scrambling for the door, you push it open and jump into his arms without a second thought. Sukuna effortlestly catches you, and the dam you thought had dried up in you breaks again. He stiffens as you cry on his shoulder, fists balled around his shirt in a vice-like grip. “Who the fuck made you cry? Is it him again?” he growls, “I seriously want to knock the living daylights out of him.”

“Don’t start a ruckus, Sukuna.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he visibly softens at your state. Sukuna rubs your back soothingly and lets you cry like that, shielding your vulnerable state with his arm. He moves you to hide your face in his chest and kisses the crown of your head, so gentle and unbelievably tender. “I don’t pick on someone weaker than me. That’s bullying.”

You don’t utter another word as he leads you out of the house. He mutters under his breath on how kids are so wild these days and he really can’t imagine he was once like that. Sukuna’s car is parked on the curb, and you rush for it, eager to go home until he stops you. He wraps his jacket around your shoulders to offer you some modesty and you offer him a weak smile, allowing him to embrace you from the sides to guide you.

“Hey!” Megumi calls out, “Hey, what are you doing with her? Let her go,” his footsteps echo behind you just as you clench your eyes shit, “I said let her go!”

“Don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid,” Sukuna mutters to himself like a mantra.

“Yo, steroid guy, you deaf or what? I said let my girl go—” Megumi falls on his ass. He stares up at whoever punched him, eyes wide at Sukuna’s arm raised, but his eyes are on you. “Ow! You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!”

“Shit,” Sukuna laughs beside you as you wince at the soreness of your knuckle. “That was hot.” Somehow, you find the ability to smile. You’ve always wanted to top Megumi, but seeing him below you like this, weak and clutching his broken nose while whining about it like a little bitch, it feels a lot more satisfying.

You want to scream at him, to release all the profanities that have manifested your anger throughout the years. But Megumi crawls back with something unreadable in his eyes, the edges of his lips tinted red with a smack of lipstick, probably from Alicia.

The sight has you scoffing. Maybe you don’t have anything to worry about after all – Megumi hates lipstick stains with a passion. If he ever gets with her, they won’t last long enough.

That fact is enough for you to flip your hair over your shoulder, glaring at Megumi one last time before dragging Sukuna down by the collar. His laughter ceases the moment your lips collide, your hands teasing around his neck to brush at his undercut. Sukuna moans through the kiss, the way he’s explicitly grabbing the flesh of your ass a sign he’s aware what kind of game you’re playing. You make a mental note to apologize for this later, but for now, you’ll shamelessly savor his tongue and the minty aftertaste, grabbing at his large frame that picks you up with no ease.

You leave Megumi gaping at the lawn after that, your finger middle raised right before Sukuna speeds off.

Fuck, that has never felt so good. This feeling…it bursts through you. There’s this certain satisfaction in finally having the power at your fingertips this time around, and you you’re your wicked smile through your hair, too absorbed in your own feelings that you don’t register Sukuna’s worried tone at first.

“So…do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He doesn’t pry afterwards, just shoots you a curious look. Just moments ago, you were crying and feeling like you’re on the verge of breaking down, but this adrenaline rushing through absolutely cannot fuck around anymore. The image of Megumi realizing he’s lost you is so exhilarating, and you twist your torso to face your roommate, grinning at his handsome features. He looks so delicious like this, black button up shirt left open at the top, his veiny, muscular arms driving one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently caressing your thigh. You suck in a deep breath, licking your lips as you purr, “Hey, Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Pull over.”

“Wait, why? We’re so close at home.”

“Pull over, I’m done,” you insist with a glare, although the animosity isn’t directed at him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on the road before he spares you a glance, smirking at how you’re already unclasping your bra from your seat.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re going to use me as a stress reliever.”

At his words, your arms still behind you. You glance up at him with wide, worried eyes that immediately reach out for his hands in assurance. “N-No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Usually, sex is a lot crazier when the other is angry. Use me as you will – I don’t really care,” he licks his lips and suddenly slams on the brakes under an empty parking lot, already flipping something in the engine. You’re taken aback as Sukuna discards his shirt in a second, his large arms carrying your frame to the backseat with him. Sukuna spreads your legs as he helps you get rid of your dress but it’s too tight that you just give up, leaving the material bunched under your boobs instead. Sukuna’s eyes darken at the lack of material under your dress, his fierce gaze shooting up to yours as he massages your inner thighs, his breath labored.

“What position do you want?”

“Fu-fuck, I don’t know, just fuck me,” you whine, spreading your legs farther to make space for him. He’s a tall guy with long limbs that he shrinks even with his fancy car, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Sukuna seems a lot more focused in fucking you in that moment because he’s unhooking his belt, diving down for one more kiss that is a lot heated and rushed than the previous one for show.

“I want to get rid of his face from my mind, I fucking hate him so much,” you can’t help but bite down on Sukuna’s lip, hard enough that it draws blood. Sukuna groans into your mouth, the sound so utterly deep and sexy you drip down on his seats even more.

“You’ll still go back to him after this?”

“No…it would be stupid if I did,” you roll your eyes.

“Good girl,” Sukuna praises as his lips leave a wet trail from your jaw down to the valley of your breasts. His smile is quickly replaced with a sinister grin, one of his hands cupping your breasts at the same time his teeth dart out to playfully nip at your breasts. He really shouldn’t look so enticing under you like this, and you’re so caught by his devilishness you fail to realize he’s already rummaging through your purse. “But I think lover boy still doesn’t get the message. We’re gonna have to punch it through his dumb skull.”

He hands you your phone, Megumi’s contact right before you.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?”

“Call him,” Sukuna moves up to fish a condom out of his wallet and slides it to his already throbbing cock, chuckling at the way your eyes widen at his girth as if you hadn’t taken him before. “Call him and let him hear how I fuck you better, sweetheart. Boys like him won’t get the message unless you tell them directly.”

His hands clutch the backseat until his knuckles turn white, aligning himself with your entrance. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily and you moan loudly at the intrusion, pretty little gasps a sign of your pleasure. Helplessly, you grip at his bicep while your legs shake from how tense you are, the tantalizing movement of his hips pulling breathless moans from you. “And what better way than to take what’s his, right? What did he call this? His pretty pussy?” Sukuna scoffs, “Fuck that, stupid little boys can’t even fuck you right, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Ngh, Sukuna, that f-feels good, right there!”

“Right here?” he teases with a stroke of his cock that brushes against your tight walls. Sukuna’s face contort into pleasure when your tight pussy sucks him in, falling forward just to rasp in your ear. “Call him. Then, I’ll fuck you however you want me to.”

You don’t know how you’re able to swipe on Megumi, but he picks up in the speed of light like never before. Sukuna mouths loudspeaker and you follow his commands, Megumi’s voice booming through the sex-filled air of the car. “Where the fuck did you go? The party wasn’t over yet and you’re hanging out with some beefy, tattoed guy? It’s your roommate, isn’t it?” Megumi curses at someone before continuing, the aggravation evident in his tone. “He’s such a fucking creep, I swear if he lays his hands on you again I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Sukuna challenges, “Oh and mind you, she’s the one who asked me to fuck her. As her concerned roommate and the more mature adult, I believe it’s my duty to listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

“Sukuna!” You whine and slap his arm, but you’re smiling, the pleasure and satisfaction of slapping Megumi this harshly making you feel greater than ever.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Megumi sounds like he’s losing his shit, and you sincerely hope he does. “Gosh, Y/N, how low can you be? I thought you were my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Since when?” you attempt to scream, but Sukuna’s gripped your thighs and pulls your lower body closer to his cock in time to meet his thrusts. Your body slides off the seat and you’re left screaming Sukuna’s name, the latter wearing a shit-eating grin at the way you’re creaming around him. Somehow, your attention reverts back to Megumi’s whining. “You’re a fucking dick, Megumi, I honestly hope you choke on your small dick!” you shout and end the call, slapping your hand on your face as you throw your phone away. “I hated saying that.”

“Because you still like him or…?”

“No, because he was actually a good fuck and his dick is huge,” you say through pants. Sukuna must’ve hated how you’re talking about Megumi’s dick when he’s literally rearranging your insides, and Sukuna grabs your leg, manhandling you into the position he likes. You’re immediately on your knees with your back flat to his chest, your arms locked between your bodies as Sukuna takes you from behind. Your head falls back to his shoulders where Sukuna leaves messy open-mouthed kisses to your sweaty skin. “I fucking hate him. He’s such an asshole.”

“Hmm, well don’t spend too much energy thinking about him anymore,” Sukuna snarls at your skin, releasing your hands just to rub at your swollen clit. “Just let loose and let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember meeting him.”

The honest side of you wants to moan, the familiar tightening of your abdomen appearing already. He’s hitting all your sensitive spots that you can barely think, only feel, but you also feel so powerful and enraged that you cup Sukuna’s cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. You hit his thrusts by pushing back against his cock that causes him to slide in deeper, the large man groaning deep within his chest.

“You sure about that?��

“Oh, hundred percent confident, baby.”

“Let’s see what you got then,” you teased him. Pretending you’re not seconds away from coming is an even bigger challenge than leaving Megumi, but for the sake of riling up Sukuna, you would do it.

“You’re challenging me?”

“If I don’t cum at least twice, then that’s going to be a damn shame.”

“Twice? That’s not even the minimum,” he shakes his head tauntingly at you, increasing his pace until the sounds of his balls smacking your ass and both your groans are filling the dead silent night. It’s so lewd and dirty that your tongue lols out from the pleasure, eyes shut tight because you’re close, so fucking close! “You’re going to lose your fucking mind,” Sukuna said as a final warning.

You didn’t think too much of it until he pulls out of you seconds before you came. The crestfallen look written all over your face makes him laugh, but Sukuna only turns your body and goes down on his knees, hitching your legs over his shoulders. Your chest falls up and down as he dives down to your sopping, abused cunt, hands threading through his hair before he rudely flicks it away. “No. Hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me,” he hissed, but his roughness is softened only by a little bit when you whimper so sweetly for him. “Don’t pout, sweetheart, you’ll get your chance when we get home. For now, since you’d so rudely woke me up and left me without inviting me for dinner, I’m starving.”

Sukuna dips between your thighs, tongue poking out to take the first taste of your juices. Your reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; head thrown back, nails dug into the seats, legs quivering and falling open wider to welcome the warm, wet muscle that licks flat from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuuckk, Sukuna, slow down, ngh—”

“He ever ate you out this way?”

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can you take it, sweetheart? Should I stop?” You know he’s teasing you, the sniggers muffled from your pussy lips are still heard but you can’t fight back, not when your legs turn to jelly at his ministrations.

“Keep going, fuck, please, I will slap you if you don’t make me cum tonight,” you threaten, and Sukuna smartly responds by sucking your clit into his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, careful enough not to hurt you while plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling it into a come-hither motion that stretches you pleasurably. “Too, oh, shit!”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he chuckles, and the vibrations that come afterwards shatter your entire world. “And this is just my tongue. Feels too good?”

“Yes, yes, too good!” you cry out, “Sukuna, em coming!”

Your orgasm has no build-up whatsoever. You lay there panting with a silent scream as your nails scratch against his seats, toes curled as it comes down into you in one, hard slap. Sukuna hums as he licks up the arousal trailing down your pussy to not make even more of a mess. “Already? I haven’t even started yet,” he sighs sarcastically, “Don’t think I’m done with you. I did say you’d lose your mind, right?”

Sukuna has now joined you on the seats, flipping you to the side where he hooks one leg under his arm, your other leg extended to your side that remains flushed at the seats, his thighs squishing yours. It’s utterly challenging to move in this position and you’re completely at his mercy, the sight of his tall, dominating figure above you forcing you back into a submissive space. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before his cock is pushing past your pussy once more, bottoming out in one, swift thrust.

“’Kuna, too sensitive, mhhm—”

“You’ll take it,” he breathes out while peppering kisses at your ankle, “Come on, you’re a good girl, yeah? Give me one more.”

“Su-kuna, it’s too much!”

“Just one more.” Sukuna elicits moans from you the harder he thrusts, leaning forward until you’re crying out from the stretch of all the muscles in your body. He’s being nice today by letting you cum more than twice in the exchange of holding back his, because he’s absolutely throbbing inside you. He picks up a rougher pace from where he left off, saying your name through gritted teeth as you tighten around him. You’re squealing and whimpering from behind your fists, overly sensitive still from your previous orgasm.

His hips roll in such a mind-numbing manner before Sukuna rams into you utterly deep, your bodies flushed so close you can feel the heat pulsing from his skin. Sukuna tenses above you before he brings you to your orgasm, with him following not long afterwards.

Sukuna pulls out with a groan and ties his condom in a knot, discarding it above his clothes. Upon hearing your soft sighs, he immediately rushes your side and pats your cheek to wake you up. “Hey, look at me,” he commands, though his voice is gentle and soft. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out through fluttering lashes, “Yeah, I’m just tired,” extending your arms to him, you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him close. “Come here. Want cuddles.”

Sukuna gives in to your request for a few minutes and stays wrapped up with you. It’s perfect to be in this state, to be held so close and not just touched, the intimacy of it all bringing about unfamiliar warmth that only ever makes itself present when he’s here. “As much as I want to stay like this, we’re sweaty and sticky,” Sukuna murmurs through your hair, his hands roaming all over your skin. There’s no other sexual meaning behind it even as his rough palms graze past your mound. His touches are more like him exploring your body out of curiosity, out of the desire to just have you this close. You’re unsure what to feel about it and your mind is uncannily clear after an orgasm, but Sukuna’s already sitting up with you above him before you could ponder about it any longer. “Let me take you home first, then we’ll cuddle. What do you think?”

“Oh fuck,” you cut him off upon seeing the flashing of your screen. “It’s Megumi. Fifteen missed calls.”

“Lover boy is crazy,” Sukuna snickered behind you.

“Good thing I’m crazier,” you shut your phone off and throw it to the passenger’s seat, beaming up at Sukuna and giving him the puppy eyes from behind your shoulder. “Can we get milkshakes on the way?”

“I think you got enough milk.”

“Sukuna!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. You pout until you feel something hard and wet poking your bottoms, and Sukuna smirks, gesturing to his erection that you haven’t noticed. “You do know that I’m still hard, right? I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”

“You could’ve just let me suck you off.”

“Nah,” he refuses, “I want to feel you come around me,” Sukuna cockily winks at you, and your mouth falls open, gasping in disbelief at how vulgar he could be. He steals a quick kiss then as he tugs his pants up, the sight of him rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows thoroughly…compelling that you’re left salivating at the ripples of his muscles. “I’ll just wait ‘til we get home. Right now, I need to treat someone like a princess and get her some food.”

“You should stop saying that,” you blurt out defensively, “Sweet lies won’t get you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t lying about anything. I meant every word I said.”

The tension thickens in an instant. Sukuna looks at you warily – or perhaps worriedly? – before he situates himself back in the driver’s seat, starting the car right after you’ve fixed your appearance. Considering it’s already late, he’s struggling to find any restaurant or diners open to appease your cravings, though he doesn’t complain about it.

You fiddle with your hands on your lap, unable to find a proper explanation to his behavior. “Sukuna…” you start off nervously, refusing to look him in the eye. “Do you uhm…do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that, sweetheart?”

“I meant…maybe you just like me for my body, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head towards you, “I’m too old for drama and playing with people’s feelings. Like I said, the cards are all in your hands now. If you want us to just have casual sex, I don’t mind, but if you also want to be, uhm…” Sukuna awkwardly rubs at the back of his head with a clear of his throat, the tables turned because now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. “…something more, then I won’t refuse that either. I’m up to whatever you want to do.”

“And if I said that…maybe I’m considering getting to know you better?”

“Then maybe I would happily say yes.”

You smile at how easily he lightens up the mood, feeling a smile already playing on your lips as you giggle. “Just a maybe?”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he groans, averting his eyes from the road (it’s empty anyway) to get a quick peck. You whack his arm and his laugh only grows louder; he knows you’re not really angry, because he kisses really good and you like it a lot more than you’ll admit.

“I’ll be a hundred times of a better boyfriend than what you’d expect.”

“You’re really confident, huh?”

“Oh, I’m confident I can treat you well,” he nods proudly, head tipping back to the backseat. “I did just let you ruin my leather exterior and let you walk away while I have a raging boner. Do you have any idea how much self restraint a man has to have to let that happen?”

“Probably an immaculate one. Megumi would never let me go unless he’s came.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy,” Sukuna doesn’t even bother to try and hide his hatred for your former crush, and you’re smiling like a lovesick fool on the seat. “You’re with me now. So, since I want to spoil you, how many milkshakes do you want?”

Back then, you were always too addicted to lies that seemed so sweet that you couldn’t be able to stop. But now that you’ve met Sukuna, perhaps the blissful truth is a lot sweeter, and it’s a much healthier addiction you’ll take any day.

taglist: @thesimpsclub @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma @sklycan @ggsmashgg @dora-the-grownup @ninefuckingoneone @ambiguous-something

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imaginedreamwrite · 2 years

Text

Barnes, Barnes & Barnes: Part 3

The strap of your duffle bag felt heavy on your shoulder, and there was no manner of movement that eased the pressure. You felt the weight of the situation, of what you would be walking into, making the sewn strap of the bag feel like thistles digging into your flesh.

You were going to be living with two variants of Barnes for an unknown amount of time, and the original Barnes, trying to keep them in control until Banner, Stark and Strange could figure out some solution to send them back to where they had come from if it was even possible.

And while you were sure that another agent could very well handle this mission with more delicacy and grace than you could, given your station as a member of the Avengers with a concussion, since you were going to be on leave anyway, the assignment fell to you.

Or at least you let yourself believe that was the only reason while completely ignoring the fact that Strange had said that the variants ‘liked you.’

“I wouldn’t see it as a punishment,” Nat tried to encourage you with that all-knowing smirk on her face, “but rather an opportunity.”

“To what? Finally, reach a crazy place?” you scoffed, yanking your bag further up your shoulders while you left your place for the last time for a while.

“Three hot men, in one apartment. You would never have to worry about self-pleasure again.”

“What..?” You stopped moving and stared at Nat with narrowed eyes and a pressed frown. “What the hell does that mean? I’m supposed to treat them like my personal sex toys?”

“Why not?”

“The Winter Soldier would kill me, and not with his dick; the vintage toy soldier had been ridden more than a bicycle and Bucky….”

“What about Bucky?” She tilted her head and shot you this look that was edging on the line between amused and knowledgeable as if she knew you had a somewhat crush on Bucky.

“Nothing.” You grunted in response and moved toward the elevator. “Bucky’s a nice guy.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“He’s nice. Quiet. Closed off. Doesn’t seem to be interested-“ You yelped in response to Nat reaching out and pinching you as hard as she could, her green eyes narrowed in your direction.

“What the hell, Nat?!”

“You are oblivious-“

“I’m not oblivious! Oblivious to what? What’s there to be oblivious about?” You winced and rubbed your arm, glaring at her as the two of you entered the elevator, and she had reached over to press the numbered button attached to the panel to take you to the floor you would be occupying.

“Come on; you can’t tell me you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” You grumbled and crossed your arms over your chest. You glanced at the ex-Russian spy from the corner of your eyes.

She was standing to your left, with her arms crossed over her chest. She had traded in her black widow suit for a shirt with the SHIELD emblem on the left corner and a pair of dark wash jeans. Her hair had been dyed back to her natural red hair from the white blonde a few years ago and was draped over her shoulder in a braid that was secured in black elastic.

You studied her and her attire, envious that she was about to head off to a mission in Europe somewhere after she escorted you to the floor you would be on for the foreseeable future. You envied her, you envied her ability to be such a badass, and for so long, while you felt like an adult baby on the team of Avengers.

“Nevermind.” Nat rolled her eyes and slid her phone out of her back pocket, and started tapping away on the screen. “They’re waiting for us. Steve and Bucky.”

“And Bucky. And Bucky.” You rolled your eyes and huffed.

“Cut the pity party, Y/N.” Nat pinched you again. “You could be worse off than having three gorgeous men to take care of you.”

“Nat! I’m not going to be using them as sex toys-!” The sound of a throat clearing cut you off, and you immediately wished the ground would’ve opened up to swallow you whole.

In your attempt to combat Natasha’s idea that you were going to be having sex all day, every day, you’d turned a blind eye to the doors opening to get out one final point in your disagreement. And you’d let your voice carry, and the message of your debate had hit their ears.

The Winter Soldier. Bucky Barnes, reformed assassin and current Avenger. Vintage toy soldier. Captain America. Every single one of them heard.

“I think they heard you,” Nat smirked, getting an innate sense of pleasure from your embarrassing moment.

You felt their heated stares and wracked your brain for some saving grace.

Could you blame it on the concussion? Could you blame the word vomit that spilled from you on your head injury?

“Great,” you huffed, “well, the earth can open up and swallow me whole anytime now.” You stepped off the elevator and gripped the strap of your bag to the point when your nails could potentially break through the fabric.

You kept your head down and took a wide girth around everyone you could as you stalked toward one half of the floor, toward the bedrooms, only to stop when Bucky called your name.

“Wrong way, doll. Your room’s on the other side.” Bucky cracked a grin when you huffed and turned sharply on your heel and briskly crossed the living room to the other side of the floor, toward the other rooms.

“If you need any help, doll,” the vintage Bucky spoke, the charming and charismatic nature to him making him physically appear the youngest of all of them, “I’ll be happy to help a pretty dame out.”

“Have fun finding one.” You turned away from him, from the vintage toy soldier and stepped into an unoccupied room before you forcefully shut the door behind you.

** **

“You okay, Buck?” Steve briefly glanced at the other two Barnes, the Winter Soldier variant and the Barnes who survived the fall from the train, and then moved his attention back toward the original.

“Seeing two of myself is something,” Bucky made a sound mixed between a scoff and a huff, but he knew that Steve wasn’t asking about them.

He was asking about you. He wondered how Bucky was feeling about being stuck in close quarters to the woman he had feelings for yet hadn’t told you yet. Steve asked how Bucky would deal with having you so close by to watch the other two variants.

“This wasn’t how I would’ve pictured us living together,” Bucky’s smile was brief, and it was quickly replaced with a frown, “I had this whole idea in my head-“

“I know.” Steve empathized with Bucky; he did.

His feelings for you weren’t precisely slow-growing, but they were honest, and they were powerful. Bucky had spent every exhaustible moment he could trying to get you to see him as someone you could date, could have a future with.

Your obliviousness and naivety toward his feelings were both a blessing and his curse. Bucky found it both endearing and maddening.

The fact that you could flit around the tower so unaware of how Bucky felt about you, about how he wanted to completely devour every inch of you on every surface in the tower, was almost unbelievable. How could you not see how he looked at you? Didn’t you notice how often he tried to be around you? How often had he protected you against the ire of other people? Everyone on the team knew how he felt. Everyone saw the way he looked at you.

Everyone except you and the spiderling.

Steve’s gaze moved past him to the other two. “Stark, Banner and Strange are working on trying to get them back where they belong, but-“

“-you think they’re stuck here?”

“Call it a gut feeling.” Steve sighed and rested his hands on his hips. “If they are stuck here, the Winter Soldier needs to be deprogrammed and the other guy-“

“-has a lot of catching up to do.” Bucky frowned and felt tension building at the nape of his neck.

“God,” Bucky laughed under his breath and shook his head, “she can be a brat.”

“And you love her.”

“Yeah,” he spoke with melancholy, “I do.”

“Good luck.” Steve squeezed his shoulder and pulled away from him, turning his back to Bucky and the two variants to follow Natasha to the elevator before they finally left the floor.

Bucky had to wait until they were gone before he moved from the living room to the bedroom you’d chosen. He stopped outside your door and raised his right hand, knocking twice on the wood before he lowered his hand again and waited for you to either open the door or leave him waiting.

“Slomay dver'.” (Break down the door)

The Winter Soldier approached the same door, carrying the settled and consistent feeling of darkness and animosity with him everywhere he went.

“I’m not breaking the door down.” Bucky felt at odds.

He was having to carry a conversation with two different versions of himself, who had two entirely different lives than he had. While the Winter Soldier had never been rescued and had continued to suffer at the hands of Hydra, the other variant had never fallen from the train and had returned to Brooklyn, only without Steve and without ever knowing Steve had survived.

“You gotta give dames space. She’ll come out when she’s ready.” The sergeant had crossed his arms over his chest, his blue eyes trained on the same door they were all standing outside of. “Don’t wanna be on the wrong side of a pretty dame’s anger.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Bucky rolled his eyes and knocked again. “Y/N, can you open the door so we can talk?”

“Otkroy dver' ili ona otkroyetsya dlya tebya.” (open the door, or it will be opened for you)

“No,” Bucky angled himself between the Winter Soldier and the door, “it won’t be.”

“Should bring her tea. Tea makes everything better.” The variant that survived the war had appeared on the other side and knocked twice on the door himself, ignoring the heated glare Bucky was shooting him. “You want some tea, angel? Milk and honey-“

The door was yanked open, and the three men were met with the sight of you in a pair of loose-fitting jersey knit pants and an off-the-shoulder shirt that exposed the plain strap of your bra underneath. The sight of that single strap had been enough to thoroughly shut up the 1940’s version of himself, who had probably never seen such a brazen act in the company of three men, of which none were going steady with you.

“I don’t need to speak Russian to know you’re an ass.” You focused your anger on the Winter Soldier before turning your attention to the sergeant. You snapped your fingers in his face and drew his attention away from your exposed shoulder and bra strap, back to your face. “Eyes up here, Casanova. Look at my bra strap or my breasts once more, and you’ll have my foot so far up your ass, it’ll be coming out of your mouth.”

“Doll-“ You cut Bucky off by yanking him into your room and slamming the door in the other two variant’s faces.

“Can we forget I said that?” You turned and walked to your bed before you sank on end, your hands laying flat by your hips.

“Forget what, honey?” Bucky followed you and came to sit beside you. “What do you want to forget?”

“That sex toy thing…Nat and I were talking-“

“It’s okay.” Bucky squeezed your thigh and brushed his arm against yours. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Bucky-“

“I mean it, sweetheart.” He cupped your left cheek and leaned in, his lips brushing your right cheek. “You don’t need to worry about it. Okay?”

Your eyes locked on his, and you were momentarily captivated by the feeling of him brushing his thumb across your cheekbone, the rough pad of his thumb caressing your flesh.

“Thanks.” You chewed the inside of your cheek and leaned into him. “You know, Nat said something-“

“Vy ne mozhete derzhat' yeye v sebe. My vse khotim yeye.” (You can’t keep her to yourself in there. We all want her.)

“What does…I don’t-“ Bucky turned your attention back to him and leaned in again, this time kissing your forehead.

“Let me handle it, sweetheart.”

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babu-haitani · 3 years

Note

I saw the request is open, so i hope you don't mind me requesting.

Can you write the reaction of Mikey, Baji, Hakkai, and Souya (separetely) when they and their fem!crush hang out together and both of them accidentaly find out her (the crush) boyfriend cheating on her with another girl? She already have a feeling that her boyfried, now ex, is off lately but try to be positive along while bracing herself to prepare for the worst.

Feeling humiliated, mad, and sad, she said this to her boyfriend, later ex, "So you HAVE been cheating on me this whole time. How long? You know what, I don't care! We are breaking up! I am dumping you, bastard. I don't need you, anyway. I am BETTER than staying with your cheating ass. I know lots of other men who is more handsome than you are. Lets go, (TR character name). Oh, by the way, my friend over here, he have better abs than you'll ever have. And much more handsome than your ugly mug. Bye!"

And please make them end up together. The TR bois and their crush. After one day of pity party for herself, she bounced back up. Not letting her ex drag her down for reaching her own happy ending. I hope this is not too much.

I didn't know If I got this request right?! but I hope you still like it either way! ENJOY!!

Better Than Him (Tokyo Revengers)

Genre: Fluff, Crack?

Pairings: Mikey, Baji, Hakkai, Angry x FEM! Reader

TW: Characters might be OOC

SCENARIO:

It was a normal Saturday, you were hanging out with your Delinquent friend in the library. You had asked him to come with you and help you study for the upcoming exams, but instead of actually studying with you. He was staring at you.

"Stop staring and study, you'll repeat if you keep on staring out of nowhere" You spoke making them jolt from their doing, he quickly shook his head to a no.

"I can ace that test, don't worry about it!" He grinned, you raised your head to look up at him but instead of actually looking at your friend of yours, your boyfriend with another girl behind him caught your attention.

"Y/N?? No need to stare at me like that...fine, I'll study..." He spoke, as soon as he was about to grab one of your books from the table you quickly stood up and walked past him. Confused, he stood up as well and followed you but was shocked to see your boyfriend with another girl and was being lovey-dovey to each other.

MANJIRO SANO (MIKEY)

He would be standing there while eating his Dorayaki.

Just staring at you and your cheating boyfriend.

Yeah, he's mad but as long as he doesn't ay a finger on you then he won't do anything. He knows how much you hate violence, especially when it isn't needed.

Nearly died from choking when you started to compare him and your now ex-boyfriend.

"The audacity of you cheating???Really? If you were as good-looking and as fit, as awesome and as sexy as Mikey then I might've just let this slide and even accept your apology but damn! you're not even close to looking like Mikey's soft feet!"

Had to pull you away before you get into too much detail about his 'SOFT' Feet...

He questioned you all day regarding his feet and for some reason, he was glad that you only developed a feet fetish because of him...(on second thought...)

He was definitely cocky the whole day.

He likes you but He will give you some more time before confessing cause he respects that you just got out of a relationship and still need time to cool down. <3

BAJI KEISUKE

Please...

This man was the first one to even land a punch on your boyfriend as soon as he saw him with another girl.

High chance that he would start yelling, questioning your ex on why would he cheat when you were too much of a beauty.

Lots of praises towards you, despite him, scolding your ex...

"YEAH! just what Keisuke said! I'm too good for you! can't believe I wasted my time with you when I could've just started dating Keisuke if I've had known he liked me! Let's go, Keisuke! were going on a date!"

...I know Baji is schtoopid but...

Please believe me that he would purposely praise you so he can give you signals about his feelings.

In layman's terms ---He took your ex cheating on you as an opportunity to prove that he is better than him.

Yes, all those praises were both planned and genuine.

It's a win-win situation, to be honest...

HAKKAI SHIBA

He would cry...

You know those little siblings who would pull you away to not cause any scene? Yeah, that's him...

High chance that he would call Yuzuha and get both you and Hakkai away.

Was rushed to the hospital when you told your ex that Hakkai was better than him and that you might even start considering dating him.

"A BEAUTIFUL A WORTHY WOMAN LIKE ME DESERVES SOMEONE WHO WILL TREAT ME RIGHT! right, Hakkai?!" You looked towards Hakkai who just nodded, his face was beet red. "On second thought! I remember Taiju and Yuzuha wanting me to date Hakkai! Yeah! I'll date him! He's nicer, handsome, sexy, knows how to treat a woman right, and isn't like you, you ugly mf! hmph!"

ThWumP!

You had to call Yuzuha cause when he was about to call her, you just had to say those things...

Refuses to see you for a whole week cause he was still shy but also felt guilty cause he wasn't beside you when you broke up with your cheating ex.

Don't worry it was a happy ending, Hakkai just needed time to gain confidence.

SOUYA KAWATA (ANGRY)

Started crying and kicked your ex's ass...

He felt so bad that your boyfriend cheated that he just started crying and sent your ex to a nearby hospital...

You and Nahoya had to save him from the police station...

"I can't believe that jerk, cheated on me when he got everything he wanted! A lot of men would want to date me but he would just cheat and replace me with someone who looks like a fish out of water because of how big their lips are?! I mean come on!" You whined. "I know right! If I was angry, I would've taken this chance to ask you out already. since your single..."

You were left there alone because Souya had to chase down his brother for outing him like that.

Like Hakkai, this man avoided you for god knows how long because of how embarrassed he was.

You had to barge in his room just to talk to you which he did talk to you (In reality, he was just nodding and agreeing that he didn't even notice he agreed to go on a date with ya').

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #mikey x reader #baji x reader #hakkai x reader #souya x reader #anime #anime x reader #headcanon #babu

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the7thcrow · 3 years

Text

600 degrees

pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

summary: you can’t cook. like, really can’t cook. good thing your cute neighbour is here to help clean up the mess.

word count: 5.1k

genre: neighbours au. strangers to lovers. the fluffiest of fluff, slightly suggestive.

warnings: a make-out session, bad humour, minho being a twat of a roommate, and tooth-rotting fluff.

rating: 14+

a/n: hi guys! hope you enjoy this one, it’s so much more wholesome and fluffy than what i usually write, but I'm pretty happy about it. don’t by shy to send me an ask or leave a comment. anything you have to say, I would love to hear. :)

...

“Fine. Since you won’t come, at least enlighten me on how you plan to keep yourself busy?” Minho asks, casually leaning against your kitchen island. He stares at you, with that familiar condescending smirk you’ve seen far too many times.

“I don’t know,” you state, rolling your eyes. Rising to your feet, you head over to your shared refrigerator, pulling a bottle of Sangria out of the fridge. “But I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“You know, if you want to drink, you could at least do it at the party.” Minho approaches you from behind, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “It’s a lot less sad that way.”

You slap his hand away, letting out a frustrated groan at the laughter he lets out from his own joke. “I get out plenty, quit acting like I’m some lonely cat lady,” you say, grabbing your favourite wine glass from the cupboard. “I like parties, I just don’t like Jisung’s parties. They always get way out of hand.”

“But Y/N,” Minho wines, picking up your freshly poured glass and taking a sip, earning himself a glare. “I never said you were a cat lady, just the lonely part.”

At that you snatch the glass away from his hands. Not wanting to deal with this torment any longer, you walk back to your comfortable, worn-in spot on the couch.

“You know I’m right,” he says, continuing despite the fact you begin to turn up the volume of the television. “And the only way you’re going to change that is by accompanying me to Jisung’s loud, out of hand parties.”

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows. “Somehow, I doubt my soulmate associates himself with Han Jisung.”

“Well that can’t be right, because I associate myself with Han Jisung?”

“Shut up, Minho.”

Your roommate snickers to himself as he opens the fridge, taking a quick glance at everything - or for a better term, lack of anything - inside. “What are you even going to eat? There’s nothing leftover from last night.”

“I’ll make something,” you say. Frankly, you had expected the outburst of laughter, but that didn’t do anything to simmer down your growing annoyance.

“Make something?” Minho laughs, giving you an incredulous stare. “Y/N, I’ve lived with you for two years and I don’t think I’ve seen you cook anything once.”

“Hey, I can cook,” you return, wrinkling your nose. “But why would I, when I have you to do it for me?”

At this, it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I take that back. I don’t want you to come, have fun curling up on the couch alone with your three cats.”

“They’re literally yours.”

“Whatever,” he says, opening your front door. “Just don’t burn the apartment down, alright?”

As he closes the door, you flip him off. At first, you aren’t sure if he saw, but you’re given your answer as his laughter echoes down the hallway, fading as he walks further away.

You scowl. Of course you can cook. Well, at the very least, well enough to make a meal for one on a saturday night. Minho didn’t know what he was talking about.

Minho. Your best friend and roommate for the last two years. Man, does the guy have a way of pushing your buttons. You love him, of course. In the weird, bickering, just short of volatile friendship sort of way the two of you had developed.

Still, you can’t deny that even with his painfully irritable nature, he is still a good friend. No matter how many times you say no, he always offers to take you anywhere he goes. He pushes you out of your comfort zone. He’s there to console you when a date goes bad, or you failed a test you studied hard for. He makes all his meals for two, just because he doesn’t want you to live solely off shitty take-out.

He’s your rock. Your platonic other half. Your closest companion.

Which means you are going to prove him wrong, and then rub it in his face as much as you possibly can. Of course, because that’s what friends are for.

~~~~

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Or, at the very least, it was going to be exceedingly more difficult now that your apartment was full of smoke.

Covering your nose with one hand, you take the tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. If you can even call them that, as they now held a far closer resemblance to that of hockey pucks. Both in looks, and what you could assume in taste, as well.

Okay, you know chocolate chip cookies don’t really count as a decent meal, but they are the only thing you remember how to cook from when you lived at home. Or maybe you didn’t remember, based on the tray of failure sitting in front of you.

Then, to make matters even worse, your fire alarm starts going off.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Now you are going to have to go to the front desk, let them know everything is okay.

Maybe Minho was right, you should’ve just went to Jisung’s stupid party and eaten something there. Putting all the other painful aspects of Han’s parties aside, Felix was his roommate, so the horderves were always excellent.

They were better than your hockey puck cookies, anyway.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open your apartment door, prepared to get a rough scolding from the lady working the front desk. However, you are surprised to find a man standing in front of you, his hand in the air, as if he were about to knock.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly putting his hand back down at his side. He has messy platinum blonde hair, and soft eyes. He’s cute, and the realization quickly makes you recognize him.

“You’re my neighbor,” you say, pointing a finger at him. It’s not until he doesn’t respond immediately that you realize it was a strange thing to say. Obviously, he knows he’s your neighbor, and he might be a little offended you didn’t recognize him immediately.

Then again, the two of you had never really talked before. Everytime you would pass each other in the hall, he’d always give a polite nod and continue walking. Sometimes you’d try to say hello, or start a small conversation, but he always disappeared quickly. It had gotten to the point where you assumed he had some strange, unwarranted grudge against you.

So, it was safe to say that you were more than just a little surprised to find him at your door.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Are you okay? I thought I smelt something burning, and then I heard the fire alarm go off.” He asks, peeking behind you into your apartment, seeing if he can catch sight of any flames.

Instead, his eyes land on your tray of butchered cookies, and he… smirks?

“Oh,” he says, attempting to hide the smile growing on his face. “Having some cooking trouble?”

You stare at him for a moment, watching as his lips pursed together, stifling a chuckle. “Are you...” you begin, your jaw dropping slightly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he looks down at you, finally letting his grin free. “I would never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you frown, already not enjoying that sarcastic look on his face. You thought you’d be able to avoid that humiliating look considering Minho wasn’t here, but apparently not.

“As you can see, it’s nothing. So if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, attempting to move past him. “I need to go get my neck rung by the lady at the front desk,” However, he doesn’t budge from his place in your door frame. You cast him a glare, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll go let her know,” he says, already turning to walk down the hall. You open your mouth to object, but he casts a glance over his shoulder, snickering. “You focus on cleaning up whatever those black lumps were supposed to be.”

You stand in your doorway, dumbfounded as your neighbor disappears down the complex staircase. Who did this guy think he was, openly laughing at your current predicament? Sure, if the roles were reversed, there’s no doubt that you would do the same. But that isn’t the point.

No. The point is that you are not impressed by the audacity of this stranger, and you are going to make sure that this distaste is known.

Grumbling to yourself, you dump the still smoking cookies in the trash can. It’s a shame, really. You’d thought you were doing so well, too. You thought this would be your chance to prove Minho wrong. Minho. Oh, he would be having an absolute hay day if he were here right now, and the thought only makes your scowl deepen.

“Well,” your neighbor calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He reappears in the open door frame, sticking his neck inside, but not fully crossing the threshold into your apartment. “She’s not thrilled, but the alarm didn’t trigger the main system’s sprinklers, so you’re good.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

The man smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you trying to make anyway?”

An embarrassed blush casts itself over your cheeks. “Chocolate chip cookies,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

He lets out a burst of laughter, smiling widely. You can’t help but notice that he had a cute smile, dimples on both of his cheeks, eyes crinkled. Not that you were looking. Not that you cared, obviously.

“How’d you manage to mess up chocolate chip cookies that badly?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “You tell me.” You gesture towards the oven. Your neighbor smirks, walking inside your apartment. He bends down in front of your oven, before taking a look inside.

“Well, nothing seems to be wrong in there…” he starts, before glancing up at the set temperature. “Oh,” he states, before looking back at you, his eyes full of pity. “Oh boy.”

“What?” You ask defensively.

“The temperature. You forgot to convert it from celsius to fahrenheit. See?” He says, leaning away from the oven to give you a closer look. “So you thought you were cooking them at 350 degrees fahrenheit, when in reality they were at over 600 degrees.”

“Oh my god,” you say, smacking your palm against your forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know,” the guy shrugs. “You could have burnt your apartment down, so I’d consider it a win. You’re lucky I got here on time.”

You cast him a scowl, although you can’t seem to relinquish the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. You know damn well you wouldn’t have started a fire, and that the man showing up really didn’t stop anything but an uncomfortable conversation with the front lady. You are also sure that he is fully aware of this too, which makes your smirk grow wider. Alright, you’ll play along.

“Right, what ever would I do without you?” you say sarcastically, causing your neighbor to playfully roll his eyes. He leans against your kitchen counter, relaxing slightly.

“Does my saviour have a name?” You ask, opening the fridge to take a look at what’s inside. You feel your stomach rumble, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was already past 9:00.

“It’s Chris,” he smiles, leaning over your shoulder. “So what are you going to eat, now that you’ve successfully butchered the easiest recipe known to man?”

“Hey!” You snipe. “That is certainly not the easiest recipe known to man.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris says, putting his hands up in defense. “Maybe not the easiest, but it’s definitely up there. But putting that aside, what are you going to eat? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge so empty.”

You want to quip back at him, but he’s right. Minho usually does the grocery shopping, but because of Jisung’s party tonight he wasn’t planning on cooking anything.

“Good question,” you sigh, closing the refrigerator door before leaning your back against it. “Maybe I’ll just order some take out. I don’t think my pride can handle another failure.”

Chris smiles. “Or, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes glinting. He heads over to your apartment door, and for a moment you worry that he’s leaving.

No, you’re not worried. You’re curious. That’s all. You were curious whether or not he was leaving, nothing more.

When Chris returns, he has his arms full of ingredients. Spinach, penne, tomato sauce, cream, a variety of spices. The list goes on, and he stumbles slightly, almost dropping the surplus of food onto your kitchen floor. Imagining the mess, you rush over to help him, placing the load of groceries onto the counter.

“I don’t know if you couldn’t tell before,” you say, motioning to your overflowing counter. “But I really can’t cook. I have no clue what to do with any of this.”

“That’s no problem,” Chris smiles, already separating the food into different groups. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, no. I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, waving your hands in protest. You step in front of him, squeezing yourself between his chest and the kitchen counter, preventing him from reaching any of the ingredients. “You’ve already dealt with the desk lady for me, and brought over all these groceries. You’ve done more than enough.”

He smiles, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and effortlessly moving you to the side. “Why would I bring you these groceries if I knew you couldn’t do anything with them?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let me help you.”

You sigh in defeat, ignoring the way your heart begins to beat faster in your chest. “Alright,” you say, grabbing Minho’s cutting board from the cupboard. “Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~

An hour later, you find yourself sitting on top of your kitchen counter, Chris stationed by the stove working on the pasta sauce. You had genuinely tried to help in the beginning, you really did. But after Chris criticized your (awful) cutting technique, and said he didn’t exactly trust you to do anything else, you gave up.

Besides, you don’t have a problem watching him work. Over the last hour, you’ve come to learn that Chris is an absolute whiz in the kitchen. Moving from place to place, adding spices by intuition and nothing more. This wasn’t something you could have managed to make yourself in a million years, and it’s obvious that if you tried to assist him right now, you’d only get in the way.

Of course, you’ve learned a lot more about Chris in the last hour than just that. Where he grew up, his hobbies, what he was currently studying at the university. Music theory, as you’d learned. As cool as it sounded, Han had managed to tarnish your image of music majors, but you suppose you could give Chris a chance.

“It’s almost done,” Chris says, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” you reply, leaping off the counter to stand beside him.

“What, no ‘thank you, Chris?’ No, ‘what ever would I have done without you, Chris?’” He mocks offence, placing a hand on his heart.

“It’s not even done yet. I’ll thank you after I try it, I promise.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Ah, so you’re only thankful if you like it. I see how it is,” Chris says, crossing his arms in front of himself, pouting his lower lip slightly.

“Guess so,” you say, crossing your own arms mockingly. Chris smiles, those cute little dimples of his dancing across his cheeks.

Then you feel it, that little jump of your heart. The faintest skip of a beat that you’d familiarized yourself with over the last hour. That little hint of anticipation that makes you decide that you are, even if only slightly, a bit interested in Chris.

After all, he’s funny and sweet. Can carry a conversation well, and to understate it, undeniably easy on the eyes. That’s more than enough to give him a chance.

Most of all, however, you like that little flare between the two of you. The sarcasm, the banter. It doesn’t feel the same as when Minho does it, slightly condescending and done purely to harbour your annoyance. No, this is different. It is a challenge. He wants you to quip back, to push further. To make him smirk, or laugh, or roll his eyes.

“Alright, fine then,” he says, taking the large wooden spoon and scooping up some of the pasta sauce. “Tell me if this is up to par, your majesty.”

You aren’t sure if he wants you to take the spoon, or let him hold it for you as you take a bite. You decide to take the gamble, gently moving your lips around the spoon, tasting the sauce. You glance up at Chris, a small look of surprise on his face. However, you don’t miss the flash of something behind his eyes. The faintest hint of affection, interest.

The sauce itself is delicious. A perfect blend of tomato, basil and cream. You hum contently, giving him a thumbs up.

“Chris, this is amazing,” you praise, admiring the small blush that sprinkles his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing,” he says, diverting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck, shyly.

“No, seriously,” you say, taking the spoon from his hand and scooping some of the sauce up yourself. “Try it.” You hold the spoon out in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. Your gaze remains firm. A challenge.

Hesitantly, he takes the bite, not breaking eye contact as he does so. You stare at him, watching the way his lips move around the spoon, the intensity of his gaze. The action itself should be innocent, yet you feel a warmth rise to your cheeks.

Chris swallows, taking his lips off the spoon. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. The spark between you two being brought alight.

You swallow hard. “So?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, it’s good. Very good,” he says back, his voice low and raspy. He goes to take the spoon from you, and his hand lingers a moment, his thumb trailing the skin of your knuckles.

You feel yourself lean in slightly, fully prepared to take the leap, when suddenly he breaks away from you, eagerly taking a few steps back. He looks away, placing a hand on his face, as if he were ashamed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re seeing someone, we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry,” he babbles, completely turning away from you.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Seeing someone? Where the hell could he have possibly gotten that idea?

“Seeing someone?” You ask, incredulously voicing your thoughts. You grab him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Chris still refuses to meet your eyes, instead focusing intently on the wall behind you. “The guy that lives here- Minho - aren’t you two?”

“Minho?” You gape, contorting your face in a look of pure disgust. “Ew, gross! No! Believe me, I am not dating Minho, I’d genuinely rather stick this spoon in my eye,” you exclaim, lifting up the utensil.

At that Chris finally looks at you, wearing his own look of pure confusion. “Wait, really? But whenever I hear you guys out in the hall, the two of you are always so… flirty.”

“Flirty?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “If by flirty you mean he teases me literally every god damn second of every day, then yeah sure, I guess. But believe me, there is absolutely nothing romantic about that. Not in the least.”

Chris shakes his head, a smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Wow. I am such an idiot,” he sighs, a rediscovered lightness to his tone.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “Anyone could make that mistake, I guess. It’s really no big-”

“No, it’s not just that,” he cuts you off. “That’s why I’ve never talked to you before now.”

“You never talked to me because you thought that me and Minho were dating?” You ask, slightly confused. Even if you were dating, you didn’t see why that would stop him from starting a conversation with you. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighs, his cheeks reddening further. “I thought you were pretty, and based on the way you always quipped back at him, clever and funny as well. I don’t know, it just felt wrong to try and build a friendship with you, knowing how I already felt a little....”

You smirk, drawing yourself slightly closer to him. “A little what?”

His smile transforms itself from embarrassed to a sly grin of his own. “A little into you, I guess.”

“It really is a shame,” you shrug, trying to hide the excitement building in your chest. “Because here I was, thinking my cute neighbor had some irrational grudge against me.”

Chris leans in, so the two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the strong fragrance of his cologne. Sharp with lemon zest and mint.

“We could always make up for lost time, you know,” he says, his eyes flashing with mischief.

That is all the invitation you need to break the space between the two of you. You press Chris’ lips against your own, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other along the line of his jaw. His lips are soft, you notice. Tender in the slow rhythm the two of you develop.

He runs his hands up along your figure. One of them finding itself locked in your hair, the other placed firmly on the curve of your lower back. Gently, he leads the two of you away from the stove, placing you so that your back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

You run your hand down along his chest, reveling in the groan he let’s out as your fingers trail down his lower abdomen. The sound is electricity pulsing through you, charging the room and igniting the atmosphere around the two of you.

His lips leave yours, trailing your jaw before making their way down your neck. Each individual kiss is slow and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You take a deep breath to stable yourself, and it does not go unnoticed.

Chris smirks, shifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out with desire. “You know, if we keep this up, the pasta sauce is going to burn,” he says, letting his fingers trail along your collarbone.

“Let it,” you shrug. “I wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Chris laughs at this, leaning forward so his face brushes the crook of your neck. “Yeah, right,” he says, allowing his lips to dust your skin. Suddenly, he bites down, not enough to break through the skin, but certainly enough to leave a small mark.

You laugh, running your hands in his hair, half-heartedly pulling him off of your neck. “Hey! That hurt,” you exclaim, only half serious.

“Sorry,” he grins, before crashing his lips into yours once again. The pace between the two of you is much faster now, each kiss more passionate. More promising. Your desire rings through you, clouding your mind in a hazy fog of lust. It is dizzying, just how much you want him at this moment.

You're certain he feels the same way, given in how tightly he grips your thigh, his breath ragged every time you break apart. It is messy. Greedy. The two of you so deeply wanting more. More of each other.

You’re about to ask if he wants to move this to the bedroom, when suddenly the apartment door swings open. It’s almost comical, how quickly you and Chris break apart, springing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Minho calls as he walks inside, not yet glancing up from his phone screen. “Shit got out of hand. Someone managed to break the pool table, don’t even ask how, I don’t know either. Almost gave Felix an aneurysm. I swear the kid was about to cry, poor guy. Han had to shut everything down. So you really didn’t miss out on-” Minho stops as he sees Chris, a confused yet bemused expression crossing his face.

“Oh, hey Chan,” he says, causing you to give Chris a look.

“A nickname,” Chris mouths to you, as discreetly as he possibly can.

“What are you doing over here?” Minho asks him, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. He has that smug smirk on his face that makes you want to punch him.

“Oh, well…” Chris starts, casting you a glance. “Y/N made some food, and there was too much of it, so she invited me over.”

“Really?” Minho asks, caught off guard. He walks past you and Chris, staring at the pasta and sauce currently sitting on the oven burners. “You’re saying Y/N made this?”

“Well, yeah?” Chris says, feigning confusion. “Of course, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why?”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, looking at the expression of utter bewilderment on Minho’s face. Minho glances at you, narrowing his eyes, before sighing.

“Well then, I guess you proved me wrong on two things tonight, Y/N,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he begins to scoop some of the penne into his dish.

“Oh, you said there was a lot,” Minho responds, raising one eyebrow. “Can I not have some?”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you say, still slightly flustered by the abruptness of his entrance. Minho finishes filling his bowl and takes a seat at the kitchen island. As he begins to eat, the room is filled with a rather tense silence. You and Chris share an awkward look, unsure of what to do next.

Minho looks up from his dish, glancing between the two of you.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing his bowl and standing up from his chair. “I’m going to go eat this in my room. Have fun you two.”

Before you can say anything, Minho disappears around the corner, down the hallway leading to his room. You turn back towards Chris. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s a bit of a mood-killer, huh?” You say, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard, offering him one.

Chris nods in thanks as he takes the bowl from your hands. “Just a little bit,” he laughs, beginning to scoop some of the pasta into both of your dishes.

The two of you take a seat at your counter, spending the meal talking and laughing. Nothing else, the moment has passed, but that doesn’t bother you. You enjoy Chris’ presence. His quick humour and thoughtful conversation.

It really is something that you could get used to, you decide.

After you’re done eating, you walk Chris over to the door, handing him his surplus of spice bottles and leftover spinach.

“Thank you for doing all this, seriously. The food was delicious, you’re seriously gifted. And also, thank you for covering for me, I really didn’t feel like listening to Minho die laughing over the burnt cookies,” you admit.

“It’s no problem, really,” Chris smiles. He shifts all the spices over to his right arm, letting his free hand fall down to his side. Softly, he takes your hand in his, letting your fingers intertwine.

“Listen,” he continues, shyly looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, you’re welcome to come over for a proper dinner. You know, so I can show you what I can actually make when it’s not a last minute attempt at salvaging a meal.”

You smile a goofy, genuine grin. “That sounds good to me,” you say. Hesitantly, you lean forwards, planting a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

As you break apart, he hums contently. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, thanks for today. You made my night, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” You watch as he walks over to his apartment door, which is of course, only a few meters away from your own. When he disappears into his own apartment, you sigh, closing your own door behind you. You lean against the frame, letting out a shaky breath, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve held any genuine interest in someone, you feel almost giddy.

That is until you see Minho, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, watching you with his cheshire smirk.

“Dinner tomorrow, huh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and scooping himself the last of the pasta.

“What about it?” You retort, not giving in to that pestering look in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’ll be good, considering Chan clearly made this,” Minho says, shoveling some of the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

“Save it, the lady at the front desk told me you almost set the apartment on fire,” Minho laughs as you pour the wine.

You let out a groan, handing him his glass. “God dammit.”

“Don’t blame her though,” he smiles, leaning back and taking a sip. “I wouldn’t have believed you could have cooked that anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Had me fooled for a second there though,” he says, patting you on the head. “But more importantly, you like Chan huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Nice hickey, by the way,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

You pull up the collar of your shirt, casting him a glare. “Okay, maybe I do,” you shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he replies, before taking a second to think. “Just please don’t fuck him or anything tomorrow. Walls are thin.”

You laugh, taking your glass of wine and flopping yourself back down on the living room couch.

“Shut up, Minho.”

thanks for reading loves <3

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

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MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

“M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

937 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

For your prompts: Mingjue is ace or demi, and somehow between taking over the sect at a very young age and never displaying interest in it, no one ever gave him The Sex Talk. All the aunts and uncles assumed someone else took care of it. Then Huaisang gets to that age. He seems to be very interested in sex. He needs The Sex Talk. Mingjue feels like that should come from him (he's taken care of all the rest pf raising him after all), but he doesn't have the info to do that.

How does Mingjue give him The Sex Talk? Or alternatively, does Huaisang end up already knowing and giving The Talk to his big brother instead?

ao3

“All right,” Nie Mingjue said, sitting down and gesturing for Nie Huaisang to sit down across from him. “I guess we’re going to have to talk about this.”

“I knew this day would come,” Nie Huaisang said, looking unbearably tragic. “I’m going to die of embarrassment before the day is through, da-ge. Won’t you have pity?”

Nie Mingjue knew him too well, though.

“Okay,” he said.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him.

“If it’s too embarrassing to talk about sex, you’re not ready to talk about sex,” Nie Mingjue said with a casual shrug. “We can postpone the conversation to –”

“No! I want to hear about it!” Nie Huaisang scowled at him. “Da-ge, everyone else got the sex talk! You wouldn’t want me to fall behind, would you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked innocently at him. “But Huaisang, you said…”

“Never mind what I said!”

Nie Mingjue tried to maintain his façade of innocent neutrality but quickly cracked in the face of Nie Huaisang’s exasperation; he started laughing.

Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“There’s not much to say,” Nie Mingjue said, wiping his eyes. “And it’s not as if you can’t get by without it, you know. I mean, no one ever gave me the talk.”

Nie Huaisang frowned. “No one? What about A-die? I mean, before…”

“He was busy, and kept postponing it,” Nie Mingjue said, shrugging. “And then he died, and everyone assumed he’d done it already. It’s fine. Everything I needed to learn, I learned from books, and you’re going to do the same.”

“…books.”

“Yep, books.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “You’re going to make me learn this incredibly important subject from textbooks? Really, da-ge?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said.

“You’re robbing me of a valuable life experience here.”

“I’m so sad for you,” Nie Mingjue said dryly, pulling out a box and spreading out the books he’d obtained just for this purpose. “Now, I know you hate studying, I know you think it’s boring and a waste of time, but I really think in this instance –”

“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. His eyes were fixated on the books in front of him, and for some reason he’d flushed bright red, even though it wasn’t all that hot in the room. “I don’t mind. I’ll study hard, da-ge.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before once or twice,” Nie Mingjue remarked, then shook his head. “Anyway, I think just one or two –”

“I need all of them.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, sincerely this time. “All of them?” he said, and looked down at the books. “Huaisang, I don’t think you understand. I got a selection so that you could have your pick, but they’re by and large very repetitive; each one more or less describes the same basic acts –”

“I need all of them. For reasons.”

“…all right,” Nie Mingjue said, bemused but generally pleased by Nie Huaisang’s highly unusual enthusiasm for study. “I thought I was robbing you of a valuable life experience?”

“That was before! I didn’t realize the books were going to be spring books,” Nie Huaisang said. He’d grabbed one and flipped it open, staring wide-eyed at one of the illustrations.

“What type of textbook would there be for this subject other than a spring book?” Nie Mingjue asked, wondering – as ever – if he’d missed something. Raising children was hard, and raising Nie Huaisang was harder; everyone agreed. “Anyway, I’m given to understand that the art is a bit exaggerated, especially in terms of proportion, and the accompanying text can use some rather strange metaphors, but fundamentally the acts described appear generally consistent throughout the various sources. For example, if you look at this one, you can see that the woman has –”

“Yes, da-ge, I can see.”

“I’m just pointing it out,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. Nie Huaisang was being especially impossible to understand today. “Anyway, it’s all a bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very weird. Incredibly weird. You know what, I think I need to think about this privately for a while.”

“I…are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

“If you insist.” Nie Mingjue stood up. “If you have any questions –”

“Yes I’ll be sure to ask you please leave now thank you good-bye.”

Nie Mingjue found himself outside the door to Nie Huaisang’s room, not entirely sure how his much smaller younger brother had managed to push him out so effectively. Maybe some of that saber training was actually having an impact, however spaced out and half-hearted Nie Huaisang’s efforts were.

Cheered by the thought, Nie Mingjue headed back to his office, feeling very good about himself: that wasn’t nearly as awkward as all the other people had made it sound. It’d been no problem at all!

Of course, a few months later, he found out that Nie Huaisang had started buying up spring books like he’d developed a mania for it.

“That seems fine,” he said to the disciple who’d reported it. “I mean, it’s a bit strange, yes, but he’s always been fond of hobbies that involve collecting things. Birds, weird rocks…that sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure it’s…exactly the same,” the disciple said carefully. “But if you’re not concerned, Sect Leader, we’ll just leave it be.”

“…I’ll talk with him,” Nie Mingjue decided, mostly because of the weird expression on the disciple’s face, and the disciple looked relieved.

Later that evening, he followed up on his word.

“Huaisang, I heard you’re buying spring books,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nearly choked on his soup.

“You can’t just bring that up over dinner!” he hissed.

“…why not?”

“You just – can’t!”

“I can, and did,” Nie Mingjue said. “Some of the disciples have expressed some concern about it.”

Nie Huaisang’s shoulders went up by his ears defensively. “Is it because I’m buying cutsleeve books as well as regular books?”

“They sell cutsleeve books? Really?” Nie Mingjue said blankly, temporarily distracted. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be enough of a market to make the printing worthwhile. Aren't they supposed to be relatively uncommon? …anyway, no, it’s not about that.”

“…you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Nie Mingjue said, puzzled. “I’m glad you’re expanding your horizons.”

“You…are?” Nie Huaisang was blinking rapidly.

“I mean, you’re reading? Reading is good. I’m always happy when you advance your scholarly pursuits,” Nie Mingjue said. “I mean, I’d still like it if you spent a bit more time on your saber…”

“Wait,” Nie Huaisang said hastily, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of his saber training. “If you don’t mind the fact that I’m buying them, or the content, what is the concern?”

“Mostly quantity, I think?” Nie Mingjue hadn’t been able to figure it out either. “You’ve exceeded your allowance twice already, and really, how many books recounting the same exact content can you really need?”

“It’s not quite the same content,” Nie Huaisang said. “There are different…scenarios.”

“Yes, but it all leads to the same place in the end, doesn’t it? Hand, mouth, front, back, inside or outside; you read one, you’ve read them all. Though I guess the cutsleeve ones are different?”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang admitted. “But maybe take a look anyway? Maybe you’ll like those better…here, come up to my room.”

Nie Huaisang had, apparently, started in on making quite a collection, and from the way he puttered around trying to find the right ones to share, seemed to be in the process of becoming a little connoisseur. It was pretty adorable, actually; Nie Mingjue couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Nie Huaisang so enthusiastic.

“Having two spears involved does seem to make it a bit more awkward,” he concluded after paging through a few. “And obviously you can’t do it from the front in the same way, but other than that the mechanics generally seem the same. I suppose there’s really only so many ways you can twist the human body…”

“How about this one, then?” Nie Huaisang said, offering up a book about mirror grinders sharing a toy between them. “Twice the young ladies involved!”

“That seems even less efficient. If they wanted to be penetrated, why be a mirror grinder instead of finding a man?”

Nie Huaisang seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. “Maybe they just fell in love with another woman first?” he eventually suggested.

That seemed reasonable enough, so Nie Mingjue nodded agreeably. “Makes sense that they’d use a toy, then. Otherwise wouldn't they be stuck with using just mouths and hands? Though I suppose there’s always the eponymous grinding motion, too.”

Nie Huaisang reached over and put his hand in Nie Mingjue’s lap.

“Huaisang! What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re really not…Wait, let me find you some others. Maybe you’ll like these better – they have more scenario involved.”

Truly Nie Huaisang had a wide collection. There were solo stories, coupled stories, stories involved groups of three or more, stories involving people being tied up or doing the tying, one story involving whips and pinching nails that Nie Mingjue initially thought was a torture manual that had gotten mixed in by mistake except for how the receiving party seemed extremely enthusiastic about it. There was even one involving –

“Fish?”

“Tentacles.”

“People want to fuck fish?”

“It’s not – you know what, I don’t know, maybe they do,” Nie Huaisang said, throwing up his hands. “Octopi are a surprisingly popular subject along the coast, and some of the artwork from Dongying features it.”

“You have works from Dongying?” Nie Mingjue asked, impressed. It wasn’t every young man’s hobby that involved international commerce. “You’re really turning into a collector, Huaisang.”

“I’m not – it’s not –” Nie Huaisang grimaced. “You know what, maybe the disciples are right and I should cut down on purchasing so many.”

“Why? If you’re enjoying your new hobby –”

“There’s a difference between being known as the guy who has some good spring books and being known as the guy who collects spring books as a hobby. The latter just sounds pathetic.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure about that.

“Well, it’s up to you,” he said, and started to get up to leave, only to have Nie Huaisang tug on his hand.

“Da-ge, I have a question.”

Nie Mingjue sat back down.

“Have you ever…?” Nie Huaisang nodded at the books.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose a bit at the thought. “It seems like more trouble than it’s worth, really.”

“What about…uh…” He gestured at one in particular. Nie Mingjue leaned over and checked; it was one of the ones featuring a single man touching himself. “Do you…?”

“Oh, sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “Every once in a while. Don't most people? But there’s rather a difference between doing that and having to get up close and personal with someone else’s genitals, isn’t there? We all wipe our own asses after we shit, but that doesn’t mean we do it for other people.” He gave Nie Huaisang a pointed look. “Present company excluded.”

“I was a baby, it doesn’t count,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him. “Never bring it up again.”

Nie Mingjue smirked at him.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes dramatically. “Da-ge, you’re hopeless. One day you’ll find someone you like enough to try it with!”

“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Uh, yes it does! You’re going to have kids, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Nie Mingjue said, hesitating a little. “Huaisang, you’re my heir.”

“I know that! I’m in line until you have kids of your own to inherit…why are you shaking your head?”

“You’re going to inherit after me,” Nie Mingjue said, as gently as he could. “I’m probably not going to have kids, but even if I did, I’d arrange it so that they’d be part of the branch family, not the main line. I want you to inherit.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were going wide.

No, it was too early to tell him about the saber spirits, Nie Mingjue thought to himself. About their family's horrible temper and his private suspicion that the temper and the qi deviations fed into each other; his conviction that Nie Huaisang would be a better sect leader than him, a better continuation for their line than him, and his determination to make sure that the next generation of Nie sect leaders didn't have to fear a shortened life the way he did. He’d tell him that later, sometime. Today was a good day, there was no point in spoiling it.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked instead. “I mean, you have such a wide variety here; don’t tell me you’re solely interested in cut-sleeves…?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “No, I like – everything.”

“Well, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “There should be no problem, then. If you end up with a woman, have some kids; if you end up with a man, take a concubine. Either way, you’ll get an heir.” He frowned. “Assuming you don’t mind –”

“No, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and he sounded incredibly long-suffering. “I think I’ll manage to have sex, somehow.”

“Well, I mean, if you’re thinking about actually going ahead and trying it out, that’s a whole different conversation we need to have, as opposed to the talk about what it is. You need to be careful about it –”

“Ugh, da-ge, please, no –”

“I’m not going to lecture! Just don’t overdo it or anything. You don’t want to end up with a thousand bastards like Sect Leader Jin –”

“Gross! No!”

“– or with all sorts of diseases –”

“Da-ge!”

“– or with a reputation for being a dissolute or a –”

“I will only have sex with someone I love,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least mildly care for. A nice clean person who likes me back. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“More or less,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced down at the books. “Say, Huaisang. You know so much about this. Have you ever…”

“Do you have a question?” Nie Huaisang scooted forward. “Ask away, da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue flicked his forehead. “Not a substantive one. But have you ever thought about making your own? You’re a perfectly good artist, and you’re very imaginative; I’m sure you could come up with some scenarios of your own that might be very interesting.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were wide. “I could, couldn’t I?” he said, marveling, and then suddenly jumped up and dashed over to grab some paper. “Oh, I could! I could – and that – and – and..!”

Nie Mingjue decided to retreat, smiling proudly to himself.

Reading and writing, he thought happily. They’d probably never get a warrior out of Nie Huaisang, but there might be a scholar in him yet!

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #the talk

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egcdeath · 3 years

Text

second chances

pairing: softdark!steve rogers x reader

summary: you wake up on the side of the road with no memories, no possessions, and no place to go. luckily, an attractive stranger arrives just in time to help you out.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: there are some soft moments, but this is ultimately a dark fic!!! alluding to kidnapping, deceit, mention of knife, drugging, abuse (mostly mental/emotional, but implied physical), amnesia, brief alcohol mention, nightmares, mention of bodily harm, bed sharing **if i’m missing any warnings, let me know

author’s note: this is my first dark fic without a dark reader, so please be nice! it took me nearly a whole month to get it where i want it to be (i’m a slow writer, i know) but i’m actually pretty proud of this.

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

After what seemed like years of waiting, the opportunity finally lent itself, a small pocket knife sat right in your peripheral view. A dangerous mixture of adrenaline and impulse filled you, not even granting you the time to think before you were clumsily extending your arm, and wielding the knife.

The blade popped out, and you held it with a shaky hand in front of your captor.

“Really?” he scoffed, “you’re gonna kill me.”

There was no attempt on his part to stop you, in fact, he smiled and leaned back slightly.

Your whole body trembled at this point, you could barely form words, let alone move. But this was your chance.

“So do it, Y/N. Kill me,” his voice steadily rose as he approached you, long legs making their way across the room.

Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, hand approaching your own. He wrapped it around your wrist and gripped down on you like a snake, causing you to emit a tiny yelp.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, voice steady as your hands trembled around the grip.

“Exactly. You’re still as fucking pathetic as you were the day I met you,” a slap stung your left cheek, a mark that was sure to be there for the days following.

The knife clattered as it hit the linoleum floor, and you followed its path, crumbling on the floor and breaking into tear-less sobs.

“Remember this moment, sweetheart. You’ll never get a chance like this again,” he swooped up the knife before walking away from you, leaving a broken woman in his wake.

——

You went from experiencing nothing to everything all at once. Your brain seemed to be attempting to escape your head as it pressed against your eyes, and you struggled to open them, lashes feeling like they were glued together. Rain poured down on your head, and you concluded that it had been pouring on you for a while, as you were completely soaked to the bone.

As you looked at yourself and your body, a curled up and bruised mess on the side of the road, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened to you, or at all. You weren’t even sure that you had memories apart from the ones that were processing in that exact moment. It was as if you’d exited the womb for a second time, clueless to where you were, who you are, or how you got there.

You shivered as you pulled yourself to your feet, weak ankles shaking in glittery heels and body trembling in a half-torn dress. Wherever you came from couldn’t have been good.

You slipped off the shoes and held them in your hands as you walked down the side of the deserted road, bare feet sloshing in mud as you did so. You didn’t have an idea where you were, or where the nearest sign of life was. You were tempted to walk on the soaked, petrichor scented road, but you knew that that wasn’t your best idea.

You truly had no good options. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No one to save you. You wanted to collapse back onto the ground, give into your screaming body that was becoming more and more tired by the moment. Hot tears began to slip down your face, contrasting the cold of the raindrops falling onto your body.

All hope was lost, you’d die any time now, and that would just be it. You looked up at the overcast sky and screamed at it, mentally begging for someone, anyone, to help. That you’d forever be grateful to god, or the universe, or whatever it was that was out there that put you in the situation you were in.

You screamed and sobbed until your throat was raw, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to produce any more sound, sitting down onto the damp ground and wishing for your inevitable death to be a swift and painless one.

Yet, your pity party was crashed just moments later by a beaming red light and the soft hum of a motor coming down the road. This was your one chance. Who knew when the next time you’d see a sign of human life was?

You jumped to your feet and waved your hands like a madwoman, trying to catch the attention of the male behind the driver's seat. He began to come to a stop, pulling over a bit to see you better.

His face was angelic, a strong jaw and soft eyes that looked like they had seen more than the average person. When he spoke, you felt heaven become drowsy with harmony. Or maybe you were just really tired. Regardless, your pleas to a higher power had proved fruitful, as your knight and shining armor had just pulled up beside you to save the day.

He rolled a window down, and you got closer to the door.

“Need a ride, ma’am?” he called.

You simply nodded and approached the vehicle, opening the door hesitantly. You sat down on the seat, and jumped a bit when you felt heat radiating onto the back of your thighs.

“I’m Steve. You?”

You chuckled awkwardly, “that’s a great question that I wish I could answer. It’s actually kind of a long story. Well, I assume it’s long since I can’t remember any of it. But maybe I will later. Nice to meet you anyway, Steve.”

He nodded understandingly, completely unfazed by your lack of name. Maybe he had prior experience with hitchhikers, as he was approaching this situation with a nearly suspicious calmness. “Well… where’re you heading?” the man asked, looking over at you.

“I, uh, I have no idea,” you said raspily, throat still sore from your previous screaming.

The blonde’s lip quirked at this, as if he were holding back a much bigger smile, “that’s fine. I’m heading a few towns away, but I was thinking of stopping and getting some breakfast. You interested in that?”

You shrugged, becoming slightly uncomfortable in the quickly dampening seat. Steve glanced over at you after putting the car in drive, and noticed your discomfort from your prior stay in the rain.

“We can stop by a bathroom first. I’ve got some extra clothes with me in the back,” he suggested. You nodded quietly, looking at the vast, and empty road ahead.

----

You sat in a diner booth dressed in a thick jacket and comfortable sweatpants that oddly enough, seemed to be exactly your size. Steve approached the table with an extra plate of fries, and set it gently in front of you.

“So you don’t remember anything?” he asked, stealing a fry before sitting down across from you.

You shook your head, bringing a salty fry to your mouth, “I swear I just woke up there. No memories, no nothing, no place to go. I mean, I was gonna die out there if you didn’t get me.”

Steve scoffed a bit at this, “that’s not true. I’m sure someone would’ve helped eventually.”

“Maybe. But I’m glad that it was you,” you looked up at him, and the fondness he was looking at you with was nearly suffocating.

Steve paused for a moment, mulling over his next words as if he was looking for the exact right thing to say.

“Would you like to stay with me? I mean, I know we just met each other, but I just have this feeling. Like I was meant to find you. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you have anywhere else to go.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused after a moment, popping out of the both and heading towards the ladies room.

You handled your business, and stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands. Makeup ran down your face, and it almost appeared that you were melting. Who would pick someone up in such a state? You had to question this Steve guy’s character a little bit. You couldn’t remember the exact phrase, but it couldn’t be smart to get into a car with a stranger. Especially a stranger offering to take you to some secret location with them. After all, he could be a murderer, a kidnapper, or a rapist. You would be none the wiser.

But he fed you, clothed you, and offered you a form of shelter. He couldn’t be too ill intentioned if he was willing to go out of his way to help, right? Maybe he just wanted to keep you off the streets, and that was why he was willing to take you to wherever it was that he was going.

Your stomach turned the longer you watched yourself, the longer you thought. Perhaps your intuition found that something was off. But who even knew if you could trust your intuition, after all, you were basically a day old, and you didn’t seem to have any other option.

——

You ended up going back out into the diner and accepting Steve’s offer. You didn’t really have much of a choice, and he wasn’t exactly a bad one.

Steve was quiet for the majority of your trip, only speaking when he noticed that you’d moved your sights from the window over to him. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the way you were studying him, but for some reason your eyes kept finding him.

Hours had passed in the day, and night was quickly approaching. You dozed as you watched the starry night from the passenger window. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the moment, hours worth of watching flat landscape, combined with the complexity of your day finally catching up to you.

——

Cold. You felt cold. The floor was cold. The blood running through your veins was cold. Your brain was cold and freezing, hindering you from properly processing what was going on in front of you.

A searing pain rolled through your body as you tumbled down the stairs, back into a room that was suffocatingly familiar.

“I should’ve never allowed you to leave. Ungrateful,” a faceless man followed you down the stairs and hovered over your now battered body. “I give you a home and you complain. I take care of you, giving you almost anything you could ever ask for. You complain. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position? With someone like me taking care of them?”

“You told me you loved me, you goddamn liar. I let you come upstairs, and you try to fucking kill me. I should kill you,” he seethed, leaning down over you.

But I won’t.

The words were unspoken, but familiar. A threat uttered to you before, usually followed with an ‘I’ll make your life a living hell instead.’

You were unable to speak, as if someone had ripped out your vocal cords. Suddenly the faceless man was reaching down and holding the bloody organs in his hands. Your blood ran cold once again.

“You can’t even fathom the hell I want to release on you right now,” he continued, chest puffing out with exaggerated, angered breaths. “But I’ll be the bigger man. Because I love you,” he dropped the cords on the ground beside you, and your eyes flicked over to the mutilated part of yourself. “Y/N, I need you to prove to me that you love me.”

You wanted to beg, to plead and tell the man whatever he needed to hear in order to release you, but you were completely powerless.

The man hoisted you up with ease, and you soundlessly whimpered. He carried you into a small, plain room and set you on the flat, stiff mattress on the floor.

“Come on, Sweetheart. You know I’m doing this for us.”

The faceless man kissed your forehead, and the feeling of dread overtook you.

——

You awoke with a gasp, clawing at your own neck to make sure that your vocal cords were still intact.

“You alright?” Steve asked, glancing over at you. “Should I pull over?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” you whispered.

“Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” he advised, setting a reassuring hand on top of yours. “We’ll be at the hotel any minute now.”

——

Your nerves were absolutely fried by the nightmare. Your hands shook like leaves in the wind while you stood next to Steve as he checked you into your hotel room.

“How’re you doing?” he asked in the elevator, setting his large hand on top of yours once again. The gesture was calming, even if you felt a slight undermining feeling of something unsettling.

“A little better. I probably just need to lay down somewhere comfortable.”

Steve nodded and squeezed your hand, “you’ve had a long day. You have first dibs on the shower. Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

The smile that Steve was giving you was comforting. You felt glad that he was the person to have picked you up.

The elevator made a little ding noise before the doors opened, and he guided you to your room.

You made a beeline to the shower, not even taking the time to be impressed with the size of the hotel room, the amenities, or the quality of it. You just wanted to shed your clothes and find at least a moment of peace.

You exited the bathroom after about a half an hour, and walked out into the suite in just a towel.

“Can I borrow some more clothes?” you glanced over at Steve, who was openly checking you out from the comfort of the bed.

Wait, the bed.

There were way too many things going on for you to be focused on the fact that there was just one bed. Maybe Steve would offer to sleep on the sofa.

“Yeah, that’s fine. My teammate left some clothes in that smaller blue suitcase. It’ll probably fit,” Steve paused for a few moments as you found the aforementioned suitcase and looked for something comfortable that you could actually sleep in.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, gesturing at your bruised legs.

“I don’t… I don’t know. It’s all so blurry,” you sighed, settling on a fresh pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

You changed quickly in the residually steamy bathroom, and sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Do we need to have a fistfight over who gets to sleep in the bed?” Steve joked and you shook your head.

“I can sleep on the sofa, if you want.”

“No way. You deserve something comfortable,” he got out of bed, and approached the bathroom to take his own shower. “Get nice and cozy, friend. You deserve it.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and you moved up to the top of the bed, slipping under the covers and sighing aloud from relief. Your body was finally having a chance to relax, and the hotel bed was surprisingly comfortable.

By the time Steve returned from the shower, you were already half asleep, and very unaware of your surroundings.

As you fell out of consciousness, you had blurry visions of confinement, punishments, and pain. You once again woke up with a gasp, but this time Steve was standing over you.

“Deep breaths, okay? I saw you thrashing and mumbling something to yourself. I think you were having a bad dream.”

You nodded and panted, trying to catch your breath and slow down your hummingbird heart rate.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

“Can you stay with me?” you stammered out.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve got into bed beside you, and rubbed your back as you curled into a fetal position, “just try to relax, okay? There isn’t anything to fear when I’m here with you.”

You nodded, clutching onto Steve’s genuine tone. Something about him just made you feel… safe, despite the possible red flags around him.

After Steve got into bed with you, you were finally able to fall into a dreamless and peaceful sleep.

——

You woke up to an empty and cold bed. You blinked a few times and looked around the room, eyes stopping on Steve as he watched you from the couch, eyes quickly flipping between yourself and the book in his hands in an effort to cover up his staring.

The whole ordeal made you feel slightly off, but the realization that you were essentially mooching off a stranger felt worse.

You hopped out of bed and anxiously paced towards the bathroom. “Shit, Steve,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I should probably leave.”

“Where else do you have to go?” Steve almost defensively questioned, frown deep on his face.

You took a deep sigh and shrugged, “I… don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to go,” he began, sounding unsure in his words, “stay. With me,” he stood up and walked over to you, grabbing the back of your arm softly. “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, you’re helping me. I get pretty lonely on these kinds of missions, so please, stay with me.”

You turned to look at Steve, the deep creases in his face at the thought of losing you. With just a glance, you knew that you couldn’t leave.

——

The next few days of your life had proved your theory. It was almost alarming how quickly Steve became your anchor in the midst of a new, overwhelming world.

The first thing that he did for you was tell you what your name was. As confused as you were to how exactly he figured it out, (he told you that he knew some weird tech guy. You were prepared to go with anything), you were grateful that Steve was able to help you out a piece of your old life back together.

He was oddly patient with you as you learned more and more about your surroundings. You were most impressed by the grocery store, and may or may not have spent hours inside of that food palace, spending much more of Steve’s money than was socially acceptable.

For the next few months, you stayed at a safe house with Steve, spending the majority of your time looking down at your reflection in the lake in the backyard, wondering if your memories could ever come back.

You’d grown closer with Steve in that time as well, he was really the only person that you’d gotten close with since you’d lost your memories. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t said more than three sentences to anyone else. By that measurement, your next closest friend was a gas station cashier.

In fact, you’d started dating Steve. Granted, you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around it all, despite the hours of rom-coms you’d watched while Steve was gone on missions. You just knew that you cared a lot about Steve. When he was around you, your heart fluttered. He was the only person you truly felt comfortable with. He protected you time after time, and voiced to you just how much he adored you.

It made you feel wanted, to know that despite all of the confusion, you still had a place in this world, even if the place was just Steve Rogers’ heart.

——

Steve arrived at the safe house late at night after nearly a week of being off on another mission. The bed creaked as he got into bed with you, and pressed up against your sleeping form.

“Steve, sometimes I have these really awful dreams. Mostly when you’re not with me,” you began out of the blue as his arms snaked around you. “It’s always this faceless man just… abusing me. And I can’t even do anything about it because I’m too weak. And I can’t say anything because he stole my vocal cords. It sounds so silly, because it’s all just a dream, but it all feels so real. I just... I need you to promise me that you’ll protect me no matter what. Especially against him.”

“Of course,” he whispered against the back of your head, “I promise that I’ll protect you from him. He’ll never even get the chance to let the thought cross his mind.”

“I love you, Steve,” you mumbled sleepily, “please never leave me again.”

He’d been waiting to hear those words.

——

Your fingers wrapped around a warm mug while Steve put the finishing touches on your breakfast. He’d decided to go all out that morning, with an impressive spread of food that would put most buffets to shame. For a moment, you questioned if you’d forgotten about some important holiday, or an anniversary.

Steve set a plate down in front of you, then pressed a soft peck to your forehead, “enjoy, sweetheart.”

You grinned softly down at the food, and at the affection, “what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just relieved to be back. I don’t like being away from you for too long,” he settled into the seat across from you, and took a sip of his own coffee.

“Mm, you sure? You’re not always this chipper post mission.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head just the slightest bit, “alright. You got me. I wanted to save it as a surprise, but I hate keeping secrets from you,” Steve paused.

“So… what’s the secret?” you pressed, bringing a forkful of food up to your mouth.

“I’m retiring.”

Your eyes widened as you heard the news, and you nearly choked, “are you really?”

Steve simply nodded, “I’m ready for the next chapter of my life with you.”

Your heart fluttered at the sweetness of his gesture, and the slightest hint of nerves. Why was Steve so willing to give up his entire livelihood for someone he knew for less than a year?

You felt bad for questioning his motives, considering that Steve had been nothing but good to you in the time that you knew him. If it wasn’t for him, you probably wouldn’t even be alive. He had proved himself to be an amazing, loving man, who had bent over backwards to keep you safe and comfortable. He trusted you, and it was time for you to do the same.

“I’ve been plotting this for a while, to be honest. You might think this is a little fast, but I even have a permanent place for us to stay.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be skeptical for much longer, your feelings of adoration for Steve overruling your hesitance to jump into something like that with him.

You smiled softly as Steve spoke, getting up and pacing over to where he was seated so you could give him a hug, “I.. yes, that’s fast, but it’s also kinda amazing,” you sighed softly, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “When are we leaving?”

“Tonight, if that’s alright with you. I was thinking that we could spend the day packing up and… celebrating,” he winked down at you, and you looked up to shake your head fondly.

“That sounds like a plan,” you gazed at him with adoration, and leaned up to press a soft peck to his lips that was lovingly reciprocated.

——

Music pounded against your eardrums as you ground against a handsome stranger, one you couldn’t see, but instinctively knew. The smell of sweat, liquor, and sex filled your nose, the rancid combination oddly comforting in a retrospective moment.

“We’re leaving!” A voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like years informed you. Your face broke into a wide grin when you heard her voice. “But it doesn’t look like you care!” she jeered. “Good luck!” your friend laughed, disappearing in the sea of people.

“You’re coming home with me, right?” he asked, a hot breath against your cheek.

You nodded. The words refused to come out.

“Good,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

Out of the blue, you weren’t in the club, but in the small basement room from before, staring at nothing in particular while sat at the edge of your vanity’s seat.

“I’ve tried everything with you,” he commented, leaning against the doorway casually. You felt the need to apologize, to tell your captor that you didn’t mean to do what you did, that you loved him. Plead for him not to punish you. “After months of submission, I thought that we were finally getting somewhere. Why’d you have to throw it all away?”

Glancing up at the vanity, a woman with sunken eyes, a pained expression, and fading bruises looked back at you, just long enough for you to briefly become that messy, drunken woman at the club once again.

“I’ve tried everything with you. The easy way clearly didn’t work,” he continued, “you leave me with no other options, my love,” the man sighed, sitting down next to you casually. “I want you to know that I’m doing this for us. You know that nothing good ever comes easy, right?”

The syringe went into your arm like a hot knife through butter, and your muscles clenched as fire filled your body. You went to scream, but your throat was still out of commission. As you went down, your vision and thoughts began to blur before you couldn’t decipher one thing or another. The final noise you could make out was the distortedly slow rendition of It’s Been a Long, Long Time on the record player.

In an out-of-body moment, you watched as the man pulled your relaxed body down to the floor, cautiously pulling the clothes off of you and making you cringe internally at the sight of yourself in such a state. He left your body alone for a moment as he looked through the negligible amount of clothing in your closet, grabbing the same dress from the night at the club and pulling it on your limp figure.

It was torn and messy, not unlike the state it was in when you found yourself conscious. The faceless man muttered something unintelligible to himself before hoisting you up bridal style and taking your body out to the car.

You watched in terror as this all played out, your slack face looking disturbingly at peace compared to how you’d appeared before. In fact, even in your ghastly state, you felt at peace.

That peace quickly came to an end as you watched yourself get ditched on the side of the road, and as your body slowly began to twitch back to consciousness, your dream began to fade away.

——

You dragged your suitcase up through the garage, grateful to be at your final destination with the man you’d fallen in love with. You hoped that after moving in, the dreams might finally stop. After all, your dream in the car felt somewhat final. You were trying your best to be as positive as you could manage in such a strange situation, and from the outside, you had to admit that the house was gorgeous.

Stepping inside felt like the worst case of deja vu you’d ever experienced, as if your memories were repairing themself with every millisecond you were in the home, gazing at furniture you hadn’t seen in months, and smelling faint scents that you’d forgotten existed. Feature by feature, the puzzle pieces of the faceless man came together.

The longer you observed, the worse the feeling became. Waves of grief, fear, and pain were rolling over you again and again until you were completely drowning on it. The realization hit you with a ton of bricks: this was the house from your dreams.

Steve came up behind you, snapping you out of your panicked trance. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and squeezed you close to him.

“Ready for the first day of the rest of your life?”

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