#i am SO good at finding the stupidest possible rooms

[jellogram]

My new spot in Toronto is pretty comfy but I also have to consider that for the last five days I have been sleeping in an unmarked, windowless room above a vape shop in Montreal so my standards aren't exactly sky high right now. Like, I didn't have to go through a smelly murder stairwell to get here and the sink isn't backing up black goop, this might as well be the ritz-carlton to me

[vampiric-hunger]

⊱─ 𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕖 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, smut, improper use of charm spell (sorta), vampiric charming, dub-con I guess?, PiV, fingering, blood drinking, creampie, breeding kink, waiter there's a tiny bit of plot in my porn

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: only a stupid rogue would try to rob a suspected Vampire Lord but here you are, doing exactly that. well, right until you get caught with your greedy fingers picking a lock. surprisingly enough, Lord Astarion is not mad when he finds a thief in his chambers. how (un)fortunate you are that he thinks you're beautiful. and his punishment might yet become a reward instead.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,257

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Astarion breeding kink this, breeding kink that, well, here i am trying my own hand at it for the very first time ever. i don't know how good it is but i had fun writing it! this one shot started as something else, but well, here we are, being horny. enjoy! <3

p.s. in regards of "improper use of charm spell" tag - Astarion is using his vampiric charm on reader, she is completely under his control for most of the fic and thus i marked this as dubcon but she only truly consents towards the end of it. so if you're not into this type of thing click out.

You’re stupid, oh yes you are.

You suspected so even before you broke into the palace.

Like last night, when at the Blushing Mermaid your thieving buddies dared you to break into this grand home and steal an item two of them have been hired to steal. By whom? That never matters in your line of work. But you were drunk and too proud of your own skill in thievery. You boasted that you could do it the next night and so they dared you. You took their dare but when you woke up this morning you realized how badly this could end.

Breaking into the palace of a suspected Vampire Lord is something you never attempted nor have many others. But here you are now, attempting the stupidest heist of your life and only now you’re realizing just how stupid indeed you have been the night before and even more so tonight, for coming here, for breaking in and making it this far. Shit, you don’t even remember what consequences of failing this dare are anymore, you were too arrogant in your drunken haze and you might actually get killed.

So now you’re here, in a small, windowless, positively secret room, adjacent to Lord’s bedroom, your focus on the pedestal in front of you.

“A pretty little thing, aren’t you?” a smooth, almost silky voice comes from behind you and yet it feels like an assault.

You freeze, your fingers extended over a small metal chest that you were picking a lock of just a moment ago. You knew the risks coming here, or at least you hoped you did. And now it looks like you got caught in the act.

As you straighten your back and turn around you are met with crimson eyes, a toothy smirk and relaxed body language of a man who you came here to steal from. Astarion, the newest Lord of Baldur’s Gate, latest patriarch of Szarr palace, a charming man that you heard rumors about of being an actual vampire. Undesirable creatures tend to know of one another’s existence. Him – possibly a dangerous monster and you – a thief and a dagger for hire. For a moment you wonder what will happen if this confrontation comes to fighting. You doubt you could win. Even without confirmation of his possible immortality Lord Astarion has a certain aura about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You eye him slowly, carefully, examining smallest details. His demeanor doesn’t seem threatening but you see those fangs in his mouth and you know what they can do, you know the power he must possess. Yes, it’s no rumor after all, he is a vampire. And if the same rumors are correct – a very powerful one. He doesn’t need a dagger in his hand to be extremely dangerous and you’re not enough of a fool to pick a fight with a Vampire Lord unless you have to.

“Can I assume you’re not here to give me a key?” you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re not going to be intimidated by him.

You have one more trick up your sleeve if things go murderously bad, a ring of teleportation that you rarely use because it tends to trigger magical defenses but since Astarion already caught you there’s no reason to avoid using it if you can’t talk your way out of the situation. And you will try to talk your way out of it because you have too much pride to scuttle away like a spooked rat.

Vampire’s eyes slide down your body smoothly like a viper, then back up again. Another glance to the metal box behind you and then back to your eyes. He tilts his face to an angle, giving you a curious look.

“I could. But I do wonder what are you doing here. And more so, I am dying to hear how you got inside without being noticed, how have you made it this far as to end up in my personal chambers.” his tone is still smooth like velvet and it gives you chills.

“Let’s say I’m good at what I do.” you smirk at him, despite your unease and tension in your body you are not going to show even a sliver of it to him.

“Indeed you are.” Astarion now steps closer and you move to the side when he approaches the box, placing his long, nimble fingers on it. You recognize a hand of a man who has picked many such locks himself in the past and you wonder about his history for a moment before he looks at you again, his eyes always on yours, almost never leaving.

“Do you know what’s in there, darling?” vampire asks and you cross your arms on your chest, shifting your weight on the other foot. Your goal is also to appear non-threatening but your muscles are tight as a spring.

“I was hoping it’s the Amulet of Weeping.” you say straightforwardly. You see no reason to lie because unless Astarion keeps something more in the box he knows perfectly well what you were trying to get.

Vampire chuckles lightly and taps his fingertips on the lid of the box.

“Indeed. Do you know what it does, you precious little thief?” the smirk on his lips and his eyes, forever locked on yours, it’s almost all you can see.

Yet his question makes you lose your cool. You look at the metal box and clear your throat, stalling for time but then look back at him.

“Well, actually I don’t. You see-“ a sudden finger on your lips, silencing you. If he’s a vampire, why his touch is so warm? And how in the Nine Hells he’s so fast? You didn’t even see him move, it was like a flash, it happened in a blink of an eye.

Oh yes, he’s even more dangerous than the tales you’ve heard.

“Shh. Don’t speak.” Astarion’s voice is soothing, alluring.

What is this… Why you feel so relaxed, so… warm? Your alertness starts to blunt, your caution begins to turn into curiosity and are you flushing? Your face feels hot and this change you feel somehow does not feel strange or unwelcome. It’s like being embraced, it’s like being caressed, you belong.

And all you can see is the crimson of his eyes.

“There we go. I’m sure you’re feeling better. Don’t resist, my dear, just relax, I’m not going to harm you. Maybe I will even reward you for being so brave.” Astarion croons with a voice like silk.

“Reward?” you ask, feeling like you’re in a dream. A voice in the back of your head tells you you’re being charmed but that voice is quickly snuffed out. It’s gone like a whisp of smoke from a candle that just got blown out. One moment it’s there and then not even a memory of it lingers.

“Yes, a reward, darling. Wouldn’t you like to be rewarded?” vampire’s fingers now grip your chin softly, lifting your face to his, his thumb traces your bottom lip.

“What… kind of reward?” even your own voice sounds distant now but you couldn’t care less. Those eyes… Those red eyes that bore into yours… They are everything.

“Ah, now what kind of reward we will have to see for ourselves.” Astarion smirks but his fangs don’t bother you anymore, if anything they look attractive, lighting a fire in your belly. “Let’s go, I’ll let you pick your reward, you little thief.”

With that he moves his fingers from your chin and wraps his arm around your shoulders, now leading you out of this small room. You follow without question or hesitation, but glance back at the box just once, trying to remember what was so special about it and why did you even come here. No, you don’t remember. And it doesn’t matter, not anymore.

When you look in front of you the door opens and a view of a lavish bedroom greets you. A big, luxurious bed with bedposts and parted drapes, all in black or red or gold. Simple glance around the room reveals several paintings, some bookshelves and cabinets, closets and a table, some comfortable looking armchairs. The carpet even under your boots feels soft, you almost want to lay down on it. But Astarion’s arm around your shoulders makes you walk further, towards the bed, and you barely register the door behind you closing.

Why are you here? Oh yes, the reward. When Astarion stops you just in front of the bed, his arm leaves you and he turns you to him by your shoulders. When your eyes land on his you smile. He’s so beautiful, so handsome, he’s the prettiest being you have ever seen. He sees your smile, your glazed over eyes and smiles in return.

“Not afraid of me, are you?” he asks and you slowly shake your head. “Very good. I must say, you are very very pretty, darling. What’s your name?”

Your name… Your name? What’s your name?

Your face scrunches in confusion, your eyes scan his chest and noses of your boots as if the answer is written somewhere in his noble’s attire or in the leather of your shoes. You look up at him again and Vampire Lord chuckles.

“Well, that matters not. You will remember soon enough.” Astarion uses both hands to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears and you smile at him again. His touch is soft, warm and wanted. “But, to get back to my point, you are beautiful.” he leans closer to your face, his smile and his eyes become your whole world. “And I like to collect beautiful things.”

“Things?” you echo and something once more tugs at your mind but then disappears again. You’re perfectly in his control. Under his gaze you can’t resist him.

Astarion does not bother to reply, his gaze sweeps down your body, analyzing every piece of clothing you’re wearing, then his nimble fingers begin unclasping your leather armor, taking it off piece by piece, dropping one item after another to the side of his feet. At first you don’t realize what’s going on, you just watch his face but when vampire slips the straps of your bra off your shoulders you finally blink in confusion.

When you look down at yourself you see yourself half naked, your nipples perk up at the contrast between the air of the room and the warmth of your clothing that just got removed. You rise your eyes to Astarion and see his smile once more. You don’t recognize the gentle malice in his expression but even if you did you wouldn’t care, not until the fog is lifted from your mind.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” Vampire Lord whispers and his face is so close you can smell wine on his breath and… something else. Something metallic, coppery, you can’t put your finger on it.

Your face scrunches at the thought, your eyes move to his lips and his smile, you see the fangs.

Ah yes, that’s right, he’s a vampire.

Wait, what are you doing here?

You gasp, your thoughts get interrupted by Astarion pinching both your nipples at the same time. Again you feel the fire in your abdomen, you recognize it as desire and you look into his eyes, the crimson of them drowning you like a lake of blood. And you give in.

“I want something from you.” Vampire Lord’s whisper replaces your thoughts and you just stand there with your face flushed and your body reacting with a shiver because he’s still teasing your nipples. “Something you can give me with ease.” a pause, a moment passes, then you feel his palm press against the small of your back and push you towards him, against his chest. Your hands grasp his waist and your lips part. “Just give in, darling. And I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

You see his grin and it would look dangerous to you if you weren’t completely in his control. Instead of fear you feel overwhelming lust and you close your eyes, turning your face up and inviting him for a kiss.

And Astarion does kiss you. His lips clash against yours in a hurry and passion. His tongue pushes past your lips, past your teeth, it tastes you and you taste him back. Yes, you recognize what it was that you smelled before – blood. You taste it on his lips, you taste it on his tongue and you don’t care. Your heart beats fast in your chest, your fingers now move to his clothing, trying to find clasps, buttons and laces. You manage to open his doublet, slip it off his shoulders. You don’t hear it falling to the floor, because only thing you’re hearing is your own heartbeat beating fast in your ears.

But then the kiss stops. You don’t know how long it lasted, a minute, an hour, a year? Still, you feel like it wasn’t enough, you don’t want it to stop and you barely open your eyes before you immediately try to kiss him again, eliciting a chuckle out of the Vampire Lord.

“How eager.” he comments but you don’t care. Your arms find his neck and you try to pull his head lower, to your level, your lips seek his with urgency, but with ease Astarion pushes you away. “Patience, my pet. I’ll reward you soon enough.”

You exhale in dizzy frustration but lower your hands, obeying. It’s easy to listen to him, you realize. What a pleasant feeling, you could do this forever.

“Stand still, darling.” Astarion’s voice reaches your ears and you return to the present.

You now watch him undo laces of your pants and slide them down your hips and thighs, together with your underwear, exposing you fully. You don’t know what shame is and you don’t remember how embarrassment feels like. You only know one thing – you want this man, you want him to take you and it’s hard not to start begging.

Astarion guides you while he takes off your pants and shoes, helping you step out of last bits of your clothing and when he raises again he puts one arm around your hips, leading you to the bed. It looks so soft, inviting. You want to spend forever in it with him. So when you feel vampire pat you on the ass, urging you to climb in, you do so without hesitation.

When you turn around and lay on your back, you have a moment to watch Astarion shed his own clothing in full. He takes his time, his eyes roaming up and down your nude body, his eyes would tell you of possessiveness and even a hint of cruelness if you could think straight, but right now you only see that he wants you. After he pulls his pants down and his eager erection is revealed, you swallow hardly. You want it in you, you want to taste it, you want to please him. You want to serve.

“Do you like what you see?” Astarion taunts and you nod without any shame, your lips part and you lick them, your gaze focused on his cock, so ready to make you his, maybe forever.

Vampire Lord kicks off his shoes at last, then removes his pants completely and after he straightens his back, you watch his hand grasp his shaft and give it a few slow strokes. After the third or fourth you notice precum glistening at the top of his cock.

“Ah…” is only thing you manage to say, your desire coiling and moving in you like a hungry snake. Your reaction makes Astarion chuckle and the sound of it forces yours eyes back on his once more.

He gets closer and climbs into bed slowly with a grace of a predator, his body moves on top of yours and you part your legs widely for him, welcoming him. You lean your head back, relaxing in the bed and Astarion once more sweeps your body with his gaze, stopping at your breasts.

“Touch yourself.” he commands and you immediately do so. Your hands raise, cup your breasts, your fingertips graze your nipples and then pinch them, roll them, tug at them gently while you do as instructed. You see how intensively Astarion is watching you, his smirk widens when you let out a soft moan, then another. You were ready for him already, this is just making it worse.

Finally he looks down, between your legs, and with one hand pressed against the bed for support with other he traces the inner side of your thigh up and then higher. When he touches your entrance, feels how wet you are for him, he exhales slowly. His fingers explore every inch of your sex, making you gasp and moan louder, then his thumb brushes against your clit, sending a shiver through your body.

“You’re so ready for me, pet.” Astarion’s voice is husky, it’s obvious he’s getting worked up too as his eyes dart between his own fingers exploring you and you playing with your nipples.

That dreamy feeling you’ve been feeling up until now lessens, maybe it’s because Astarion is less concentrated, maybe your own desire is making your mind begin to break free but you now realize that you’ve got seduced into this man’s bed. Yet you’re too aroused, too impassioned to stop here. And your body still screams to be taken, to be conquered and to be claimed.

And he’s just so beautiful. No, you’re not free from his charm and allure, not even close, and your mind focuses on his silver locks falling gracefully around his face, you see his eyes, now filled with lust and desire, examining every inch of your body. You feel his fingers making you moan with a practiced touch and you want more. So much more.

“Take me.” you hear yourself say with a gasp and your hips buck against his fingers as if your own body is out of your control, not only your thoughts.

Astarion now looks into your eyes and smiles.

“I’m going to do so much more, my dearest pet. I’m going to claim you, I’m going to fill your tight holes and then I’ll have you beg for more.” his words send a shiver down your body that pools between your thighs, his fingers tease your cunt and he immediately notices that you got even wetter, it makes him smirk. “I’ll make you mine, I’ll claim you, and I will keep filling you with my seed every night. And who knows, maybe you’ll give me an heir eventually.”

Silence falls while your face gets redder with his every word.

An heir? He wants you to do what? Yet his eyes are still your entire world and your body moves, your hips moving again, your cunt pressing against his fingers in need.

Yes, you will give him an heir. As long as you can be his.

Your hands leave your breasts and you put your palms on the back of his head, your fingers threading in his hair.

“Yes, I will.” you whisper and that reply rewards you with a passionate kiss.

Astarion’s fingers now leave your drenched seam and roughly pull your knee up, making you hook your leg around his waist. His chest presses against yours and you sigh against his lips.

And then he enters you. One swift thrust and he’s fully inside, stretching you almost to a point of uncomfortable fullness and you moan at that, your mouth remains open with the gasp but his lips are also parted, he’s enjoying the feeling of you around his cock. Your heavy-lidded eyes meet his and your fingers clench in his hair.

“Take me. Make me yours.” you whisper and a guttural growl escapes Astarion’s throat at your words. He doesn’t wait, he begins thrusting.

You close your eyes and moan, feeling his cock pierce you again and again. You’re so aroused his shaft is moving with satisfying ease, his hips snapping against you with increasing pace.

“Fuck, you’re going to look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” Astarion grunts and lowers his head to your neck, kissing it first, then nibbling the skin with his teeth. His hand grips your thigh strongly, keeping it up.

Only response you can give him is your moans, loud and unashamed. You hold onto his neck and hair while he rocks himself against you, filling you deeply with his cock, his thrusts unrelenting. It feels like he’s been going at it for hours and every second is better than the last.

Your mind swims from sensations. His sweaty skin against yours, his shaft buried deep inside your cunt, his teeth on your neck, his fangs-

“Ouch!” you exclaim when he bites down, sinking his canines into your flesh, but when you react you hear a rumble of a laugh coming from him. Astarion lifts his head at you, his lips are painted in redness of your blood.

“Get used to it, my pet. You’re mine now.”

Vampire Lord bites you again and this time you just sigh. Somehow his first bite was painful, second one sends a shiver down your spine. Your fingers leave his hair, you place your palms on his back, feeling something there like scars, but you don’t know, you’re far away, consumed by your passion. It’s just his lithe body claiming yours, making you writhe and arch your back, making you moan.

Then Astarion slows, he moves his hips now lower, his pelvis brushes against yours, then an angle changes and he begins rubbing himself against your swollen clit, sending jolts down your spine. You open your eyes, more in surprise than anything and see Astarion’s smug smile.

“Enjoying yourself, darling?” he lifts his head with a smug smile, confident because he knows he’s good at this and he’s correct. You whimper and nod eagerly, your face still flushed. “Good.”

Astarion’s thrusts ease into a steady pace. How his skin is rubbing against you is beginning to drive you crazy. You look at him, not able to control your moans that are growing louder by the second. What is he doing to you? You never felt pleasure like this before. You can’t stop, you don’t want to stop.

“Come for me.” you hear a whisper in your ear and then he looks at your face again, enjoying the view.

Everything up until this point felt like a dream, but not this.

You feel your orgasm with every inch of your body. You cry out and dig your nails into Astarion’s back, your body tenses and your cunt clenches around him, your sweaty form spasms and you feel yourself clinging to him.

“Good girl, very good girl.”

You are barely able to comprehend Astarion’s words, because the world melts around you, this moment is intense, most intense thing you experienced in your life. But Vampire Lord doesn’t stop thrusting. When your bliss begins to fade, when you come down from your high, you look at him again and Astarion leans away from you. He straightens his back as much as he can, his palms pressed on the bed by your sides and his now messy hair drapes over his eyes but you see him watching his cock plunge into you with increasing fervor.

“Watch me fill you, my pet.” vampire’s grunt is laced with strain as he keeps fucking you while you’re trying to recover from your orgasm. You’re out of breath but this is not over, not until he says it is.

And you listen, you look down, seeing your bodies connect with every pump of his hips and you grasp at the sheets. Something about this, the anticipation, the knowledge of what he’s about to do and the desire to be used by him, it’s making the edges of your world blurry.

Astarion is grunting now, his lips parted and he’s breathing heavily. Even his face is flushed, but then he moans loudly just before he clenches his teeth. His thrusts become erratic, his eyes locked on the motion of him thrusting into you, his groans are barely passing his teeth. You know he’s spending himself entirely inside of you and it’s a delicious thought. And then after few more pumps he stops, panting when his face relaxes. You keep your eyes where your bodies are still connected, your thighs are quivering, and Astarion glances up at you with a smirk.

He says nothing as he moves one hand and grips the base of his cock, slowly pulling out of you now. You mewl gently at that, the feeling of him leaving your body is an unwelcome one. But Astarion is not done yet. He kneels between your thighs and pats your inner thigh with his cock that is now losing its hardness. With a satisfied grin he lets go of it and presses a thumb to your fold, teasing it, watching his cum seep out of you. You blush heavily at that even though you can’t see what he’s seeing.

“Beautiful.” Vampire Lord comments more to himself than to you and remains still for a long moment, just appreciating the view. Then his eyes raise to your face. “Rest for a bit. When I said I’m going to fill your holes, I meant all of them.”

You nod eagerly despite your face burning.

You cannot wait.

[enhastolemyheart]

BROKEN — P. SH

pairing sunghoon x reader

genre angst, unrequited love (?)

synopsis who knew that you would be too late when it came to confessing to your childhood crush?

warnings crying, overthinking, proofread but lmk if any mistakes

word count 1.2k

networks @k-films @/hyfenet

note HI! I'm back with a fic!! I wanted to write something out real quick and was feeling like angsty saur this is the result!! Hope you guys like it :)

Why can’t I just say how I feel? Why can't I just let Sunghoon know?

It shouldn’t be hard. It should be natural. The most natural thing on earth. Everyone does it, right? Everyone’s always done it. It’s nothing. Just one small step. A few words. A few taps of a keyboard, even.

I reach for my phone. I’m gonna do it. I could call you, or… no. I’ll text. It’s less stressful that way, for me and for you. It lets us make sure we say precisely what we mean. Less chance for misunderstandings.

I open up my messages and scroll to your name. It’s not hard to find. I could pick your face out of a crowd anywhere. Opening the conversation, I start to type.

Hey Sunghoon, I was just wondering, would you maybe-

No.

That’s not good. It’s too weak. Too apprehensive. You’d smell the fear through the screen. I need to project confidence. I try again.

Hey, do you want to go to dinner with me sometime?

I ponder this for a while, eventually shaking my head. It’s too abrupt and unclear. You might not realise that I mean as a date. You might think I’m talking about a casual platonic meetup. That’s not a mistake I want to make. I want you to know what I’m asking. I want to know what your answer means. Sighing, I glance around my room, searching for inspiration. It’s a waste of time. Hundreds of books and movies, yet not a single one can give me the answers I need. In desperation, I turn to the world’s most treacherous source of advice. The internet.

Sure, there’s a lot of garbage on there, but if you slog past the cheesy pick-up lines and pseudo-psychology, there really are a few hidden gems. Not that I can find them. Almost everything I read is about dating in person. Standing up straight. Projecting confidence through physicality. Maybe even a bit of light contact, a hand on the arm, that sort of thing. Solid advice, but utterly useless to me since, you know, you’re halfway across the country right now. Still, slowly but surely, I cobble something together that sounds more or less decent.

Hey, I know you were back in town recently. How about Friday we go for dinner at that pizza place you like, then afterwards take a walk through the park? They’ve revamped the gardens, and I think you’d love them.

Dinner and a romantic, moonlit walk. That sounds like a date, I suppose. I’ve managed to make my intentions clear. Plus, I sound confident. No umming and ahhing, no self-defeatism. The best thing of all is it gives you an easy out. If you’re not interested, you can say you’re busy that night. If you genuinely are busy, you can suggest another time. It’s not like the park is going anywhere.

The message is perfect. I’ve done it.

I’m ready.

Now, there’s only one thing left to do.

It’s just a shame it’s the hardest thing of all. My finger hovers over the send button, unable to take that final step. I keep telling myself to just press it and get this whole thing over with. But that annoying little voice in my head keeps arguing. What if they say no? What if they decide they hate me? What if they don’t want to talk to me anymore? It’s times like this that I wish I drink. A little bit of liquid courage is exactly what I need right now. That’d shut the damn voice up. But I don’t take a drink. Instead, I do the stupidest thing possible. I give myself time to think. Yeah. I’m an idiot.

Before long, that little voice is running rampant. What am I doing? This is stupid. So, so stupid. Sure, I want more from our relationship. But what if you don’t? What if, by doing this, I ruin our friendship? I don’t want to lose you. I tell myself again and again that I’m overthinking. That you aren’t like that. That it would take more than a bit of awkwardness to drive a wedge between us. But I’m not convinced.

Sure, maybe we’d be fine for now. But what if you find someone else? Will they be okay with us being friends, knowing how I feel about you? I’m not so sure. Besides, I know that you’re not exactly looking for a relationship right now. Truth be told, it’s probably not the best time for me either. But that shouldn’t matter, not really. If two people are right for each other, they can overcome anything, can’t they? The timing might not be ideal, but we can get past it.

Then again- I almost scream in frustration. I can’t do this anymore. Picking up my phone, I delete the message, deciding to wait until you’re back and tell you how I feel face to face. It’ll be better that way. I can put all that advice to use and win you over with my charming smile.

I’m lying to myself, of course.

I know the odds are good that I’ll still find a way to bottle it. I’ll still talk myself down. But maybe, just maybe, I won’t. Maybe I’ll find a way to beat that annoying little voice. Do you know what the worst thing is? You probably think I won’t say anything because you don’t mean enough to me. That my fear of rejection is stronger than my feelings for you. You couldn’t be more wrong. In a weird, paradoxical way, the strength of my feelings for you are what stops me from saying anything. You’re amazing. The most perfect human being I’ve ever met. Every time I see your smile, my heart soars like an eagle. And when I hear your laugh, dimple on display, my body glows with happiness. Even when I’m just listening to you vent about your troubles, I feel like I’m hearing a classic tale equal to anything Shakespeare, Austen, Hemingway ever created.

Because you’ve nailed the most important part of storytelling. You’ve made me care about the protagonist. You’ve made me care about you. And I couldn’t bear it if I did something stupid enough to drive you from my life.

The next couple of weeks pass in a blur. I throw myself into school work, glad of the distraction. In the brief moments I let myself think of you, I begin to convince myself that I really will tell you how I feel. That by not saying anything, I could be robbing us of so much time together. By the week before you’re due back, I’m certain. The next time I see you, I’m asking you out.

My muscles finally relaxing, I slump back into a chair. I’ve spent a long day at my desk and am ready to unwind. Turning on the TV, I grab my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through social media to catch up with what my friends have been doing. I see some pictures of you celebrating a friends' birthday. I smile. You’re happy, and that makes me happy.

But then I swipe to the last picture and see you wrapped up in somebody else’s arms, your rosy lips pressed against theirs.

Fuck.

My head spins. My chest tightens. I feel like I’m about to pass out.

Putting down my phone, I put my head in my hands and start to cry. Why didn’t I tell you how I feel? Why didn’t I atleast try to see if you felt the same way? Why do I have to be so damn broken?

a/n: tysm for reading!! Hope y'all liked it

perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup ; @heeseungshim (send an ask to be added)

[meepwritessometimes]

uhhhhh mafuena royal/painter thing

welcome back to another episode of ‘i wrote fan fiction for a school assignment’. we were given the them of ‘rebellion’ so i uhhhhhhh

it’s not my best work ever but i am happy with it, and it’s not explicitly romantic. it might also be a bit ooc idk man

fic under the cut

     The roses glistened with morning dew. Leftover petrichor from last nights’s storm lingered in the air. Ena averted her gaze from the worms stranded on the pavement, bringing her focus back to her canvas. The flowers looked fine, but there was something about the piece that was… lifeless? Unappealing? No, maybe stagnant. Ena’s work had been stagnant lately.

     When her father had left for a commission of great importance, he had begrudgingly allowed Ena to complete any small jobs that she “had no chance of screwing up”. So, for the last few days, she had painted a few landscapes, and now a few flowers. The roses were the last order on her small list, so it didn’t really matter if she was happy with how they turned out. Finish the painting, put it on the order table, relax.

     Half an hour later, Ena packed up her supplies. The sides of her hands were stained red and orange, the thin layer of paint flaking off a bit as she clutched her brushes with a fist. The sun was nearing its apex, so she had plenty of time to unwind. She arrived at her- well, her father’s -workshop and washed her hands of the day’s work. As the painter dried her hands, she heard the door jungle. Crap, had she left the door open?

     “We’re closed, come back tomorrow.” Ena returned to the foyer, only to find a magpie tilting its head at her. It had a scroll in its beak, bearing the unmistakable seal of the royal family. Ena sucked in a sharp breath, snatching it from the bird. She unrolled the scroll. It was addressed to her father, asking him, as talented and famous as he was (Ena scrunched her face), to paint a portrait of the princess for her 18th birthday.

…

     This was a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad idea. This was one of the stupidest things Ena had ever done, which was saying something. This very much counted as a decidedly not small job in the slightest that she had a very good chance of screwing up. If she failed this, her father might actually disown her. On the other hand, if she succeeded, he and the rest of the world would have no choice but to acknowledge her ability. It was an opportunity she couldn’t possible pass by, no matter the risk. Which was exactly why she found herself heading to the castle, art supplies in tow.

     By the time she had convinced the guards she was here in place of her father and was being escorted to the princess’s room, Ena was trying not to shake. This was actually happening. What the heck.

     “Princess Mafuyu, the painter is here.” The guard next to her announced to the door.

     “Ah, yes, come in! Thank you Bernard.”  (presumably)Mafuyu replied.

     “Of course, my liege.” The guard, Bernard, replied.

     Ena fidgeted with the strap of her jumper. She couldn’t be this ridiculously formal.

     Bernard opened the door, and the artist stepped inside. After glancing around the spotless room, Ena’s eyes landed on her subject (art subject, rather. Technically Ena was the princess’s royal subject). The young woman smiled politely. They were about the same age, but Mafuyu exuded a certain aura of maturity that seemed to add another year or two. She sat poised on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap.

     “Is this pose alright?” The princess cocked her head slightly.

     “Yeah, that’s fine.” Ena pulled her eyes away from Mafuyu, unpacking her supplies.

…

     Several hours later, the portrait was more or less complete. Thanks to a large, annoyingly placed window, the light had shifted as the day flew by. As a result, Ena’s shading was inconsistent in places. She sighed, scanning her work again for anything else she should fix. The painted girl stared at her, acrylic eyes hiding layers of imperfections that had been painted over several times. The artist glanced between her work and her subject. The anatomy was fine, she had successfully captured fabric folds and details on the princess’s dress, the background wasn’t distracting… and yet, something still felt off.

     Ena looked back up. “You can relax now, you know. I’m basically done.”

     Mafuyu nodded, softening her perfect posture a little, though her back remained straighter than Ena’s ever was. Maybe that was the problem. Mafuyu was simply too perfect, and Ena was far too flawed to ever hope to capture her. ..No, that was stupid. Nobody was perfect, not even pretty princesses with impeccable manners and rooms so clean one could see their reflection in the floor.

     “We need to go somewhere.” Ena set her brushes and palette down, taking the canvas off the eisel so she could collapse the latter.

     “Where?” Mafuyu tilted her head again.

     “Anywhere but here. I can’t paint you properly here.”

     “But… you just did, no?” The princess gestured to the portrait, confused.

     “No, I didn’t. And I won’t be able to as long as we”re in this lifeless place.” Ena remembered she was in royal quarters. “Uh, not to insult your interior design tastes.” Even though it really was horribly dull and near suffocating.

     Mafuyu’s expression flickered for a second before returning to a smile. “We’ll, you’re the artist here, I suppose. Where should we relocate to? The throne room? The dining hall? The gardens?”

     “Gardens, sure.” That was the only good option, really. The other two might’ve even been somehow even more smotheringly perfect than the princess’s room.

     Mafuyu got up, heading towards the door.

     “Actually,” Ena interrupted the movement. “Do you have anything a little less…” She eyes the princess’s dress. “Ornate?”

…

     They made their way to the garden, passing a few guards along the way. If they noticed that Mafuyu was wearing her nightgown, they didn’t say anything. To Ena’s dismay, the gardens were flawless too.

     “Aren’t they beautiful?” Mafuyu smiled. “Everything is in its own perfect spot, exactly where they should be.” The princess spoke as if she was reciting words she’d heard a thousand times.

    Ena clenched her fists. “Are you kidding me? It’s stupid! Nothing’s perfect, that’s a lesson I had to learn the hard way, and honestly still am learning. Especially not nature! Plants don’t do… that!” She waved her hands at the rows of flowers, identical one after another, not a single petal astray. “Whoever thought making them all stiff like this was a good idea clearly doesn’t understand the point of gardens.” Ena took a breath and huffed. “My point is, this isn’t gonna work either. We need to get off the castle grounds entirely. This whole place is the problem.”

     Mafuyu’s polite smile was wiped clean off her face. ashe stood frozen, eyes darting around before finally landing in the misery that was eye contact right now.

     “Uh- crap, um, sorry. Didn’t mean to get so worked up, it’s just been bothering me all afternoon.” Ena turned away, crossing her arms.

     “I-“ Mafuyu pulled her hands together by her waist, taking a shaky breath. “I can’t leave the premises, my mother will be terribly worried.”

     Ena narrowed her eyes. “Can’t worry if she doesn’t know.” That had been her little brother's response to the same line of reasoning when they were younger. Though, admittedly, asking the princess to sneak away from the queen was another thing entirely.

     Mafuyu was conflicted. She gazed at the perfect rows of flowers around the,. then at Ena, and then closed her eyes. “Okay.” It was quiet, but it was enough.

…

     Even as soon as they had left through the public exit, people were staring. Ena watched Mafuyu’s face light up whenever anyone looked at them for a few minutes before realizing they should be more subtle.

     “Hey, princess, you’re a little too recognizable.” Ena elbowed Mafuyu, who turned her head towards the painter in turn.

     “Hm, I suppose that does come with being part of the royal family.” She thought for a moment, then took her ponytail down. It was actually kind of surprising how such a small change made Mafuyu look significantly less like the princess everyone knew.

     “Not bad… Here, this’ll make it look a little less like you’re in your pyjamas.” Ena shrugged off her light jacket and handed it to the other.

     “Thank you so much, er…”

     “Ena. Also, stop smiling like that. People will think you’re weird now that they won’t immediately recognize you as the princess.”

     “Oh, alright.”  Mafuyu’s face relaxed to neutral, like someone lying down after a long day.

     They walked together, the painter lugging her supplies behind her in the usual cart. The sun was now falling from its perch, bathing the world in a soft, warm glow (Huh, Ena hadn't realized it had gotten so late). Mafuyu watched as people walked towards the markets, chattering away with plans for the weekend and playful gossip. Ena tried not to stare, but she still had to properly paint Mafuyu, and every second they relaxed in the fresh evening, that seemed more and more possible.

     The two of them didn’t go anywhere busy, just walked through a small park by the market square. There were people sitting on benches enjoying treats from nearby stalls, but nobody playing or causing a ruckus as there would’ve been earlier in the day.

     A rustle in a bush to their left drew both young women’s attention. The light hitting Mafuyu’s face was gorgeous, but the expression on it was tense. The bush thing moved a little more, until a small black rabbit wiggled its way out from the shrubbery.

     “Can’t believe we just got stopped in our tracks by a bun- huh?” Ena watched Mafuyu smile, but not like the polite one from before. This smile was small and tender. Nostalgic, even. This was the Mafuyu Ena wanted to paint.

…

     The moment had passed to quickly for Ena to really capture, but she had manages to grab a smaller canvas and start sketching fast enough to get the eyes, which would’ve been the trickiest to do from memory. Mafuyu straightened her back again once she noticed.

     “Oh! Are you ready to paint now?” The polite smile returned.

     “No- I mean, yes, but stop making that face again.” Ena sighed, sketching hurriedly as the golden light faded. Mafuyu hesitated, but complied. 

     By the time the sketch was done, it was too dark to start painting. Annoying, since Ena’d had to drag all her paints over here, but it wasn’t like there was much she could do about it now. She only hoped that fleeting instant that Mafuyu truly smiled would stay fresh in her mind’s eye for later.

     “I… really should get going.” The princess gazed up at the crescent moon. “Thank you for tonight.” She left too quickly for Ena to respond.

     That night, Ena worked tirelessly on the painting of Mafuyu. It was messy, a collage of warm sunset tones, rich purples and light grays from her memory. It was imbued with feelings that were likely more Ena’s than the painting’s, but that was alright. It wasn’t stagnant in the slightest, it wasn’t perfect in the slightest, and Ena was happy with it. Maybe it wasn’t  the picture of the flawless princess that had been commissioned. Maybe they’d hang the first portrait up, its lifeless, polite gaze baring down the palace walls, and it would fit right in. Maybe Ena would never have a chance to show Mafuyu the new, better one. But then again, maybe she would.

End

[maddieladner1999]

Bad Idea Right?

A Ricky and EJ fanfic set during season 4 when Ricky visits EJ at college. I really liked a lot of the dialogue from there scene, so I kept most of it and tweaked it to my story.

All rights go to Disney and Tim Federly for characters. I do not own them. 

When Ricky and Gina kept having problems between the movie, seeing each other, and Mack always being around, Ricky didn’t know what to do. He’s scared. He hasn’t been this scared in a while, so he does the stupidest thing he could possibly do, goes to visit EJ at college. While looking for his dorm  building he finally sees EJ standing on the stairs on the second floor. 

EJ: Richard Bowen

Ricky: Elton John

Ej: Welcome to college. 

Ricky is taken by EJ into EJ’s room and given a brief tour. He’s staying by himself as an RA so that means he won’t have to worry about any conversation interrupters. EJ tells him that he is no longer speaking to his dad, working 4 jobs, has a full class schedule, weekly practice for the ping pong team, and sectionals is coming up for his acapella group the Blindorphins. No suprise that he stays busy he always has. And of course he’s doing acapella, he always like Blaine the best on glee. 

Ricky couldn’t help but notice the guitars. He remembers hearing EJ play for the first time at camp this summer. He never knew EJ even knew how to play guitar, but alas the older boy is full of surprises. Camp also reminds him of trying to hang out with EJ and EJ was too busy. He wonders back on that night to what could’ve happened if he did instead of Gina. He never wouldn’t realized his feelings for Gina probably. He most likely would’ve realized the truth of why he always steals EJs girlfriends. He really just wants EJ. He asks EJ to play him a song

EJ: it might be terrible

Ricky: “all songs might be terrible, Elton.” He loved using his given name. It made him feel things. 

EJ: yeah sounds about right. Capo. 

Ricky: oh capo? Fancy. 

EJ starts singing and Ricky can’t help himself. He’s absolutely in love with the man standing before him. He decides to join in with his struggles in the song too. 

Ricky is strolling through Instagram to find Quinn’s latest post featuring Mack and Gina kissing. He’s not even jealous anymore. He just wishes Gina would tell him how she feels. Guess he’ll just have to tell EJ first and see what happens. 

EJ comes back and can visibly see something’s wrong

EJ: ok so you wanna grab food? You ok?

Ricky: I am great. Super. Good

EJ grand his phone and sees the pictures. “Hey I know what it feels like. I’m here for you though, unless you wanna be alone.”

Ricky: I thought everything was perfect. It was, for like a second. Just like it was with my parents. Just like it was with nini. Just like it was with my dad and miss freakin jenn. It’s like everyone’s allowed to be ok for like 10 seconds. And then everything falls apart. And then Gina gets this great movie opportunity, and this guy, her childhood crush, is hanging around all the time and it’s like ok I don’t wanna get in her way, but I don’t know what else to do but hide. 

EJ: well do you know what she wants?

Ricky: IDK. I’m too afraid to ask. Are you ever like um afraid of the truth? 

EJ: I mean not so much anymore. 

Ricky: I don’t wanna respond to my moms texts because I don’t wanna know if she’s back with Todd. I’m tanking my senior year instead of applying to colleges or focusing on my grades. I’m just distracted at the fear of losing more people. I’m tired. I’m tired of losing people. I don’t wanna lose Gina but the truth is I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for quite some time now. I love her I do. But not like that. 

EJ: wow that wasn’t what I was expecting. 

Ricky: and what were you expecting? 

EJ: I thought you’d come here for advice on getting Gina to be 100% yours. I never expected you to secretly harbor feelings for me. 

Ricky: well I do. And I have no idea what to do now. Especially since you probably don’t even feel the same way. 

EJ: oh. I do though. I have for a while now too. I’m not sure how long but I do. I hated calling you my brother that day at the screening. Especially since I was just so hurt I thought you liked her. I never thought you could ever like me. Clearly, I was wrong. 

Ricky: so now what?

EJ: why don’t we get some food and then figure it out. I’m starving 

Ricky: ok 

EJ orders some food for delivery to campus and the two boys eat on the floor since EJ doesn’t really have a table. 

EJ: I am stuffed

Ricky: yeah me too

*thunder rumbles outside*

EJ: no

Ricky: I should probably hit the road before an actual monsoon arrives. Hey I’m sorry for showing up and dropping everything on you earlier. You didn’t ask for that. 

EJ throws a balled up paper wrapper at Ricky “actually, I think you’re done talking for a minute.”

EJ: there are a lot of things that I would do different. I wish I would’ve stood up to my dad sooner. I wish I had spent last summer having more fun… there are just so many things that I didn’t get right. 

Ricky: I had no idea

EJ: look the point is, sometimes things don’t work out and our job is to just shake it off and hold on to some hope for what’s next. Look… my time at east high is over. And I am  so proud of who I am and who I’ve become. And I do love what has come next. But dude there is nothing in this world like high school. Nothing. And I promise you, you will never find another family like the wildcats. Take em in. Love em. Because honestly one of the biggest reasons I stay so busy is because I miss it every single day. And you will too Ricky, I promise you. It happens to every single one of us. And look dude, I think there are plenty of people who do more than worry about you, but you have to actually let them. I mean you have to actually pick up the phone, reach out and stop feeling sorry for yourself. 

Ricky: that’s not…

EJ: and look Gina is the best. And I am at peace with how things worked out, but you have to tell her the truth. I know you think you’re the guy who runs away and that’s just some personality trait that you have to be stuck with forever. You know something bad happens and you hide like opening night with HSM. And the crazy thing is you think you’re actually helping the other person, but you know what?

Ricky: I’m actually hurting them?

EJ: no you’re actually hurting yourself. Look you can be the guy who runs. You can be. Plenty of people do. But is anybody gonna show up for that guy? You still have plenty of time to change that. 

Ricky: (sobs) how?

EJ: if you wanna be happy in the future, you better start speaking your mind to the people you care about. Like right now. 

Ricky: okay. Okay. I’m not gonna run away again. I’m not gonna run away this time. I like you EJ. I do. And I need to tell Gina that. And I will. 

EJ:  ok but it’s storming and I can’t let you drive home in that weather. You can stay here tonight and drive back in the morning. 

Ricky: ok but I didn’t plan on staying the night so I don’t have any clothes and you have a twin size bed. 

EJ: I’ll make a pallet on the floor and you can borrow some of my stuff. 

Ricky: so now what?

EJ kisses Ricky and Ricky finally understands the whole thing about fireworks. Seeing EJ tonight was definitely a bad idea but it’s time he goes after what he wants. It’s the best kiss he’s ever had. But he can’t continue with Gina still being his girlfriend. 

Ricky: I’m sorry but I can’t do that to Gina. 

EJ: right I shouldn’t have I’m sorry. I’ll get you some clothes. 

EJ starts rifling through his stuff and Ricky decides to step in the hall. He texts miss jenn that he can’t make it to rehearsal and calls Gina. She answers. He doesn’t wanna do this over the phone but he can’t keep it to himself any longer. He wants EJ. And he can’t sleep on EJ’s floor next to him tonight and resist him. 

Gina: hey Ricky I was just sitting down for dinner is everything ok? I know you went to see EJ

Ricky: yeah I’m still here. It’s raining pretty bad and he refuses to let me drive in the bad weather. 

Gina: that’s good. So what’s up?

Ricky: look I love you, I do. But this year has been rough. With Mack, your childhood crush, and the movie. I don’t think I can do this anymore. 

Gina: what are you talking about?

Ricky: I just had a really long important conversation with EJ and he laid some truths out. I run away from my problems and I know that. And I can’t keep doing it anymore. Running away won’t make it better. This time without you thought has made he realize something. I thought it could work with nini I thought it was supposed to because I’ve known her forever and we’re so good together but as just friends. And then I realized maybe it was you but as always everything bad that could happen happened. I really thought I could be with you and that you were the one and who knows maybe you are. But I think we need to be apart. You can go be with Mack if you want. And I’m sorry for doing this over the phone but I just couldn’t continue on without telling you how I feel. I’ll be back tomorrow 

Gina: you’re right. This isn’t working. I tried the best I could but you still slipped away. I couldn’t stop you. I understand. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then? 

Ricky: one more thing. 

Gina: what?

Ricky: I like EJ. I didn’t wanna tell you over the phone but I needed you to know. He kissed me. That’s it though. I couldn’t do that to you. But now that we’re over I need to see what happens next here with EJ. 

Gina: I always suspected but l wasn’t sure. 

Ricky: what?

Gina: you stole his girlfriend twice. You always seemed to care about what EJ was doing. It makes sense now. 

Ricky: well I’m sorry again. 

Gina: it’s ok. At least it was before we got too serious. Didn’t break my heart Bowen. 

Ricky: good. I’ll see you at school?

Gina: yeah. Bye. 

Ricky comes back into EJ’s room to find EJ had taken a shower and got him some clothes

EJ: everything ok?

Ricky: yeah. I just broke up with Gina. 

EJ: oh. How’d she take it?

Ricky: good. She even apparently kinda suspected I liked you

EJ: oh yeah? 

Ricky: yeah. I guess I was a little obvious with my obsession of EJ caswell. 

EJ: so everything’s good. No broken hearts? Cause I would never forgive you if you hurt her. 

Ricky: yeah everything’s good. We weren’t that serious yet so she’s not hurt. 

EJ: ok well I guess you could shower if you want now. I left some clothes on your pallet. 

Ricky: ok. I’m gonna do that

While Ricky showered he thought about EJ some more. He’s in his shower using his soap and shampoo. He liked the idea of smelling like EJ. He couldn’t wait to get out and see him again. That scruffy looking dork could be his now. If EJ wasn’t too busy to have him of course. 

When Ricky comes out the bathroom he understands the term “coming out the closet” even more. So that’s what he’s gonna do tomorrow. He’s gonna figure out his sexuality and tell everyone in the drama club. They’ll accept him. He knows they will. Carlos, Ashlyn, and Maddox are all part of the community already. And his best friend big red is Bi. And gina already knows. Everything is going to be fine. 

EJ: you good?

Ricky: yeah. I’m just not a fan of sleeping on the floor. 

EJ: wanna trade?

Ricky: no. I wanna spoon you actually. 

EJ: oh? Well then get in. 

Ricky gets in the bed and goes to wrap his arm around EJ when EJ turns toward him

EJ: so if you and Gina are over and she knows does that mean we can kiss now?

Ricky: oh I wanna do so much more than kiss you. 

______________

EJ’s pov:

EJ kisses Ricky with such force it almost knocks Ricky off the bed. He saves him in great timing though. EJ rolls Ricky on top of him so he won’t have to worry about Ricky falling off the bed and immediately takes off Ricky’s shirt. He’s used to the smell of his soap but he notices it on Ricky. He likes it. As he goes down to pull off Ricky’s pants he takes a moment to let Ricky take off his shirt. Momentarily distracted by Ricky kissing his entire torso up and down he almost forgets what he’s doing. Finally he gets the pants off along with the boxers. Ricky is bigger than he thought he’d be and already fully erected. He realizes he doesn’t completely know that he’s doing so decides on giving a blow job. He flips Ricky over so he can get to the right spot. He knows what he likes so he does it to Ricky. Ricky doesn’t take very long to cum and soon his mouth is full. After that, Ricky is obviously dazed. He doesn’t know what to do know so he cleans Ricky up and kisses him up his torso. Ricky finally has words 

Ricky: I thought coming here would be a bad idea actually 

EJ: yeah? Was it?

Ricky: no I think it was the best idea I’ve ever had. 

EJ: good. So you wanna take a turn now? 

Ricky: 1 night and you’re already asking the right questions. Of course I do. 

 ___________

Ricky’s pov:

EJ just gave Ricky the best blowjob of his life and he could feel that EJ was hard. So when he asked if I wanted to return the favor I knew I had to. 

I flipped EJ back to his back after slipping off his pajama bottoms and boxers. I thought I was big but man did EJ have an inch or 2 on me. I moved down to get in position and got started on his cock. I did everything the same as he did but faster. EJ was moaning so hard. Once he came, I cleaned him up and kissed him up his torso till I met his lips. This was the best night of my life. But I was tired so I promptly laid down on top of EJ and fell asleep. 

The next morning I was still naked and on top of EJ who was of course also naked. I couldn’t help but smile. He looked so cute when he slept. He soon woke up and said good morning. I responded the same and kissed him. I knew I had to get back home but I didn’t wanna leave. After a few minutes of kissing EJ stopped and had some things to say

EJ: well last night was fun. 

Ricky: yeah it was. I guess I have to go back now. 

EJ: yeah I guess so. I almost forgot you were still in high school. 

Ricky: me too. I didn’t even wanna leave. 

EJ: well then when you get home go apply to go to school here and work really hard to get in. 

Ricky: I will. 

EJ: long distance can be hard. Is that something you wanna do or do you wanna wait till senior year is over?

Ricky: I think I’ve waited long enough for the right person I’m not running away from that again 

EJ: you really taking my words to heart?

Ricky: yeah. So I guess you can text me your busy schedule and I’ll find time to FaceTime you. And maybe even visit. And you have to come see the show. 

EJ: of course I will. So we doing this. 

Ricky: yep! I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. 

EJ: you should get going soon 

Ricky gets up off of EJ and gets dressed in his clothes from yesterday. 

Ricky: I guess the pajamas weren’t that necessary after all

EJ: nope. (EJ gets up and puts on his boxers so he’s not naked) but it was still nice to see you in my clothes if only for a minute. 

Ricky: well thanks for last night again. It’s time I go after what I want. And who I want. 

EJ: hey I’m always here when you need me. 

Ricky: well I should get going. (Ricky texts his dad he’s on his way home)

EJ: wait before you go

Ricky: one last kiss for the road?

EJ: no. Well yeah but I wanted to give you something. (EJ hands Ricky his electric guitar)

Ricky: no

EJ: you’ll probably get more use out of this than I will

Ricky: EJ

EJ: please. (EJ kisses Ricky very passionately before taking him into a hug)

Ricky: I love you

EJ: I love you too now get out of here

Ricky: see you at opening night?

EJ: of course and we’ll definitely FaceTime before then

The end. 

[ventidetta]

16 July, 2023

*”A boy should never do a soldiers job,”*

Piers kicks his feet idly, a tic set in his jaw. She’s right, it burns through his veins and his chest heaves with the effort of keeping his own breathing steady. If he can just keep this up longer.. play prisoner a little more..

It’s starting to look more like a fact, less of an act now and he’s not sure how much longer the virus can keep fighting off the four clicks of Anti-C coursing through his bloodstream without doing more damage to himself. The camera whirs quietly in the cell and Piers has possibly the stupidest idea he’s ever had in the last ten years.

—

22 July, 2023

He hopes the smeared red over the lens is enough to skew her view, otherwise the crimson drip, drip onto the floor is all for nothing, the white flashes in his vision and burning pain where he digs his left fingers under the cold metal of the bionic.

*The prosthetic pushes back on the mutation and keeps it compressed.*

Piers bites down hard on the leather glove in his mouth, waits until his hand finds purchase and pulls- skewering the inner workings of his right arm, and for a moment the pin-prick tears make it hard to see around him, curled up into himself in the cold, cement corner.

He hears the sickening crack and squelch of his own bone and nerves being severed, almost chokes himself on the drool piling in his mouth when he sobs around the glove and tears again, pulling away the metal covered in viscera and gore- his arm is reopened and disgusting and it doesn’t take him long to throw up as soon as his gaze slides to it; he’s definitely *not* putting that glove back on now.

Piers heaves, a strangled sob coming from his chest when it starts to burn, the tendrils and nerves working overtime to try to heal themselves in a mangled, mutated way and he coughs at the bile rising in his mouth. He’s never been so *grateful* to see the protrusions of his skewered fingers, the steady breathing of mutated flesh, flicking with constant electricity and the discarded prosthetic on the floor.

—

23 July, 2023, 12:45 AM

“Ms. Radames, C1117- The cell camera is obstructed. Reason to believe the captive has escaped.”

Colby tsks, ‘*Defiant little… I’ll see to this one myself.*’ she pushes back from her seat, descending down to the basement level past the rest of the screaming, wailing vermin in the cells; Piers has been the quietest, she’ll give him that, but he hasn’t been cooperative. She comes to a stop in front of the final cell, she sees a pool of blood and nothing more.

‘Open the door-‘ She demands sharply, seeing no way he could have gotten out, she has to see it closer, look around the room for herself.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Miss-“

‘*I said open the door!*’

—

23 July, 2023 1:05 AM

Piers has her slammed against the bars in record time, arm sparking with arcing electricity, she has only seconds to realise she’s pinned against metal before the initial shock wracks her body and she screams- it seems Piers isn’t immune to his own attack by the way he growls, snarling and shoving her down. The man she had at the cell door is dead before the first bullet can even be fired, the smell of burnt, sizzling flesh assaulting the air.

Colby’s breaths are uneven and the pain is unlike anything else- as it stands, this isn’t a BSAA soldier that has her cornered, it’s a rogue, fully functional and intelligent B.O.W, hoisting her up and using her as nothing more than a human shield to scan for exits against the barrels of blazing guns.

‘Like I said, you’re a *cockroach.*’ She spits, much to her dismay at another discharge of electricity through the both of them, ‘Fine- You’re a determined little cockroach..” She coughs, spitting blood into the floor as Piers drags her along, “that arm of yours, not a stunt I thought you could pull off.’

“Your mistake.” He grumbles, shoving her to the ground again when they’re both in the clear- outside and far enough away from the facility that he can get out of here without an issue, there’s snow beneath them now and Piers is struggling more than he’ll let on with the nagging temptation in his head to spill her blood across the white expanse. The sharp bone of his right ‘finger’ stings her Adams apple, a small trickle of red coming from the pierced skin and staining onto her collar.

“Not.. gonna kill you.” Piers all but snarls and Colby is taken aback, sure he was going to have killed her back in his cell, surprised to have made it this far without a spine through her chest- maybe she’s running her own luck dry? “You’re lucky.. Can’t imagine my delight if I got to.. haul your ass outta here.”

She swallows thickly, tersely nodding her head in understanding- Piers’ right eye is slitted, like a reptile and she’s had him locked up and experimented on long enough to know that’s the virus winning over his mind.

“You’ll be dead if you follow me.” He says, removing the pressure on her throat and backing off, walking away without giving her the time to stand- faintly regretting that her eyes weren’t glassy and glossed over before he left.

[enhaheeseung]

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing : live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warnings : age gap, eventual smut, vulgar language, angst, heartbreak, dirty talk, an attempt at comedy, more to be added in later chapters.

Note : this was originally going to be an smau so there will be a lot of texting but it’s mainly written. I tried something different with the texting and writing style so bear with me.

Masterlist

WC 2,325

Chapter 2

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You were born into a rich family. You went to private schools with other rich kids. You got to spend as much money as you wanted. You were absolutely, utterly spoiled, but in the best way possible.

You always remained humble and never overstepped your boundaries when it came to the less fortunate.

A lot would say you're too giving, and that's why your generosity led you to a lot of heartbreak and fake friends.

Even being in your mid 30s, you still couldn't find the right one. And having friends just didn't seem like an option anymore.

The idea of falling in love with someone just to find out they only wanted you for your money was your biggest fear.

You lived alone thanks to your parents. They paid for all your expenses and even gave you an allowance. Whenever you tried to refuse, they'd insisted on giving you money, always reminding you that this was their goal in the first place to make enough money, so their kids never had to work.

Though you were grateful for them, you still wanted to be a bit more independent, but you decided to give in to their wishes and be an obedient daughter. after all, you weren't the brightest bulb in the room.

You got up extra early to get some cleaning done. But there was only so much you could do after cleaning. You tried to cook breakfast but failed miserably for the hundredth time, nearly burning down the whole mansion.

Luckily for you, there's a fire extinguisher and sprinklers in the kitchen.

You quickly put out the small fire sighing in defeat. Then it came to you.

A maid!

A live in maid!

Then you wouldn't have to cook or clean anymore, not to say you didn't want to but at least not the whole mansion every single day all by yourself, and you'd pay them a good amount.

You phoned your parents, and they instantly agreed upon hearing your story about breakfast, and they thought the company would be nice for you, seeing how they didn't get to visit you often.

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"What am I gonna do?" Heeseung sighed, thinking about his student loans,

"Get a job," his friend jay piped up.

"Please do enlighten me on what job pays 100k. In less than a year, I promised my parents I'd have it paid by now, and I haven't even made a dent," he rubbed at his temples.

"I told you not to do it."

"Some friend you are, maybe, you're right. I'll just get a job and pay back as much as I can. This is going to suck."

He opened his laptop, typing away at the keys, searching for a job.

"What are you searching for?" Jay inquired, looking at his elder friend's screen.

"A job? What do you think?" He said as if it was the stupidest question a person could ask.

"Well, excuse me" jay went back to eating his lunch.

"Ooh, what about a convenience store?"

"Too much labor for little pay, next"

"Okay, how about, let's see, a server?"

"Still no pay, and the tips you make will just average to minimum wage."

"Okay, know it all. I feel like giving up already" he leaned back in his chair.

"Come on, the heeseung I know never quits. Keep looking"

Right before he closed his laptop, his eyes scanned a listing that paid a hundred and fifty dollars an hour. He blinked, not believing his eyes.

"No way"

"What did you find?"

"A live in maid? It says it pays one hundred and fifty an hour."

"What?!" Jay nearly choked on his food, "what are you waiting for? apply before someone else does!"

"But what if it's a scam?"

"Just try it and see the worst that can happen is you get killed when you show up for an interview," jay said, completely unphased.

"Wow, thanks, I needed that"

He made an account and uploaded a picture, then typed in a few details about his situation and basic information like his date of birth and phone number. Once he finished, he pressed enter.

"I hope this is legitimate." A sigh left his lips.

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You got a notification a few minutes after putting up your listing. To your surprise, someone had already applied you unlock your phone reading through the application.

You were happy to see that they stated a bit about themselves and when you read that they really needed the job to pay off student loans, you really felt an obligation to help. You had more money than you knew what to do with, so why not help someone out.

You scrolled a bit further, and you were shocked to see his profile picture. He was in his early 20s, with brown hair and brown eyes, and extremely handsome.

Wait, he's like a lot of years younger than me. Get a grip.

You shook your head and accepted his application. Now you just had to contact him to meet him face to face.

You texted the number he entered in.

You : "Hi, this is y/n, I got your application, and I wanted to meet you in person to see if you meet the criteria. You can come anywhere in the afternoon. I'm free all week, so whatever works best for you.

You set your phone down, a small smile on your face anticipating your meeting.

You heard a ding and looked at your phone to see a notification from the same number.

Heeseung : "Actually, I just got out of school, so can I come over today?"

You : "Sure! I'll send the address now. What time are you thinking?"

Heeseung : "I'm about ten minutes out. Is that okay?"

You : "Yep, see you then!"

You shut off your phone, going to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. You tied your hair and sprayed a bit of perfume before going into the living room to wait.

Why am I so nervous? You held your chest, trying to calm down your racing heart.

You heard the doorbell ring, and it was exactly ten minutes later.

So he makes being on time a priority.

Noted.

You took one long breath and opened the door.

Wow, he's even more handsome in person. Oh, and how I wish I could shut off my stupid. Brain, for thinking of such things, he probably has a girlfriend anyway.

"Hi, you must be heeseung?" You offered your hand for him to shake.

"That's me, and you must be y/n?" He shook your much smaller hand.

"Yes," you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks from the slight contact of his warm hand on yours.

Have I always been down this bad?

"It's nice to meet you, y/n."

"You as well. Sorry I won't keep you standing out here any longer. Please make yourself at home."

He stepped in and took a quick look around before taking off his shoes at the door. Even though it was a mansion and he's never seen inside one before, somehow it still looked very homely, or maybe that was just normal.

"You like it?" You asked, noticing how intrigued he was by the mansion.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, are all mansions this, umm, modern?" He noted how everything looked very similar to his living space.

"Not all. But I try to keep it as simplistic as possible I'm not into all the fancy stuff."

"Well, I like it. It makes me feel like I'm at home."

"It could be your home soon. So, the listing I put up was pretty vague, so feel free to take a seat anywhere you'd like, and I'll get started with a few questions. I would have put the questions along with the posting, but I feel like face to face is more…

"Personal," he looked you in the eyes.

"Yeah, personal" your eyes immediately darted away from his.

You both sat down at your kitchen table.

"That makes sense, so y/n, what are your questions?"

"Right, so you'll just need to do a few very simple tasks. Seeing how I live alone, there's not that much. First on the list is laundry. The second is dishes, you looked at him, and he nodded his head for you to continue. "third is cooking, and fourth is yard maintenance like trimming the hedges and watering the lawn."

And then it hit you, how could I be so forgetful?

"I'm sorry, would you like something to drink?"

"It's okay. I'll just have water, please."

"One water coming up." You excused yourself from the table.

He watched you walk away and made sure to take a good look at your behind.

He pulled out his phone to text jay.

Real life Bambi🦌 : You're not going to believe this.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Tell me, and I will.

Real life Bambi🦌 : Okay, so the job is super simple. It's just like everyday housework like cooking and cleaning.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Okay, but you don't know how to cook.

Real life bambi🦌 : It can't be that hard. I'll practice when I get home.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Don't call me when you set the house on fire.

Real life bambi🦌 : I'll have you on speed dial, anyway. This is the part you're really not going to believe.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : I believed everything else, so I doubt it. But try me.

Real life bambi🦌 : My employer is female.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : You're fucking lying!

Real life bambi🦌 : told you! and guess what? She's literally so fucking hot, oh my god, like step all over me. Please, she could use me, throw me away, and I'd thank her.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Well, you know what that means? I have to pay you a little visit sometime😉

Real life bambi🦌 : No! Stay far away from here. I found her first.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have even gotten the job.

Real life bambi🦌 : Oh wait, that's true. I haven't even got the job yet :(

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Don't sweat it. I'm sure you'll get it.

Real life bambi🦌 : Fingers crossed, oh, she's coming back gotta run😍

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Simp

"Here's your water." You sat back down at the table.

"Thank you" you watched his adam's apple Bob up and down while he drank the water. You shook your head to focus back on the questions.

"Okay, those are basically the things you'll be doing on a daily basis, maybe shopping on the weekends, but it's all pretty straightforward. Any questions for me?"

"Why are you paying so much? I don't mean to be rude, but it just seems too good to be true."

"I have a lot of money to give, so a hundred for me is like a dollar, and when I saw that you're paying off student loans, I thought you'd be perfect for the job. I know just how pricey those loans can be, and I assumed it would be a less stressful job for a student."

"Are you an angel in disguise?" He chuckled.

"I'm whatever you want me to be" You wanted to cut your tongue out before you could say anything else stupid.

"I'll think on it" he took one last sip of his water, handing you the empty glass.

"I'll go and wash this and give you some time to think on it."

He gave you a smile.

Real life bambi🦌 : Okay, so I got the job.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Really?

Real life bambi🦌 : Well, she's given me a few minutes to think. she’s kinda doing the interview backwards, cause she’s giving me the final decision, but she’s honestly so nice.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Don't forget about me when you make it to the top.

Real life bambi🦌 : Yeah, yeah, She's like crazy hot and super beautiful, but I think she's a bit older than me :(

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Yeah, she's probably married too.

Real life bambi🦌 : I don't think so. She doesn't have a ring.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Well, then I'd say go for it, but wouldn't it be kinda weird living together?

Real life bambi🦌 : Yeah, that's true, but it's not like I'll need to work with her for long, so maybe I'll bone her on my last week😉

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : You're disgusting.

Real life bambi🦌 : What? I'm just looking at the bright side. Just think about it. I get to live in a mansion I'll make over a hundred a day, and I get to see her I'm living the life.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : You're still disgusting.

Real life bambi🦌 : Stay mad. You're just salty that it's not you.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : I'll stick to working a 9 to 5 and bang chicks that are actually my age.

Real life bambi🦌 : Boring. Not many people can say they got that ripe pussy at my age.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Ooh, What a title to have

Real life bambi🦌 : gotta go. My sugar mama is coming 🥰

"So, have you made a decision yet?" you sat across from him at the table.

"You got yourself an employee." he gave you a wide smile.

"Great! When would you like to start?" I get a bit lonely around here, so the sooner, the better, but no pressure."

"Tomorrow is great for me."

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Hi, I’m back with another series I’ll be updating by chapters Im not sure when the next update will be cause I haven’t finished all chapter’s yet, but if you have any ideas on when I should post the next chapter feel free to let me know.

Also tell me how you like it so far should I make any changes To the texting or writing style or is it fine the way it is?

I’m so nervous after posting this cause I feel like it’s so bad I haven’t wrote anything new since “taxi” and now I forgot how to write😭

🏷permanent taglist @hee-in @jayroseyy @axartia @bunhoons @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @scarlet127 @kpopscruggles @badidealy @heeseungleeworld @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @heesgirl @yjwnoot if you want to be added or removed, just leave an ask or comment.

Thanks for reading likes and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors and enjoy your day/night🤎

[aroseinasnowstorm]

I would love to request general headcanons for a reader who is in a poly relantioship w the four glam rocks and daycare attendant. If you dont write that stuff thats fine I hope you are well regardless ♡♡♡

*KICKS OPEN DOOR AFTER I DISAPPEARED UNANNOUNCED FOR SEVERAL DAYS*

SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP

WHAT´S UP

AM I BACK?! AM I JUST POSTING THIS ONE POST AND THEN DISAPPEARING AGAIN FOR DAYS?! STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE OF "MY MENTAL HEALTH IS A BITCH"... BUT HERE HAVE A LONG POST.

Poly!Reader x Glamrocks and Daycare Attendant

- Okay so first off- H O W

- Second off- FUCKING CONGRATULATIONS. You got the jackpot of the jackpots, well done sweetheart.

- Realtalk though, you got a lot of work to do. Keeping one relationship healthy can be exhausting but a whole bunch of it? Especially considering the fact that all of those Animatronics have their own problems it´s not gonna be easy. It might even come to argue and jealously can always be a huge problem, even in a poly relationship.

- STILL... will the trouble will be worth the good time? Totally. You literally ALWAYS have someone who is on the lookout for you, always someone to talk to, always someone to cuddle with, always someone to vent with- Might just sometimes be a bit problematic if you want some time for yourself once but with enough communication also that little trouble should be do-able.

- Now, communication is the key to every relationship. And you will need a lot of it. For everyone. Every Animatronic has its own needs and limits, so you will need to figure out what works best for all of you! It might take a while to create a schedule pleasant for all of you but I am more than certain that it is possible!

- The good thing is: Your needs don´t have to be met by one person (or animatronic in this case) alone! As long as you give enough and the right attention to them, I don´t think there will be many problems. And you can just go to whoever you want for the most different kind of advice and needs!

- Freddy for example. He loves to care for you. Need someone to just hold you while you cry? Need advice? Someone who keeps you company when you feel down? The big papa bear will always be there for you. He gives the best hugs.

- Monty on the other hand, well, go to him when you need to blow off steam! When you are too angry and comfort doesn´t help, he will hype you up to destroy anything you want into his room! He will encourage you to let your emotions out and we all need that sometimes.

- Roxy is excellent at distracting you. You don´t want to talk? You don´t want to think? Hell, you don´t even want to feel your emotions right now? Go to her! She will find all fun ways to distract you, even if it´s "just" letting you ride onto her back while she zooms through the Pizzaplex.

- Chica will let you rant, will let you cry, will let you throw a tantrum. If you don´t want advice, if you don´t even want to be touched, go to her. She is the best at accepting you wholeheartedly, no matter if you want to be touched or not, no matter if you might slip up and blame her, she is the best at handling her own emotions and so yours too.

- Sun is the best to go to when you just need a distraction from the world itself. he is quick to cheer you up, allowing you to feel like a child again without any blaming or limits. He will do the stupidest just to see you laugh and enjoy yourself again.

- Oh Moon is the best when you just want to escape it all. When you just want to cry but want no one to ask any questions, go to him. He will just hold you tightly while you can let it all out. He might just sing you a lullaby so you can fall asleep.

- Everyone can offer you different solutions to a problem, everyone can offer you a different approach to your emotions. Whatever you need right now, you will always find someone who will offer it to you.

- They all have different interests too! You can have talks with them over the most different things. Freddy likes to have deep conversations, Roxy often seeks self-improvement.. Monty enjoyed fooling around with you, Chica enjoys casual conversation the most. Sun is like a literal child sometimes and Moon is just pretty calm most of the time.

- Some of them are more clingy than others (Roxy and Sun **cough cough** ) and others need a bit more space than everyone else, not because they don´t love you, but simply because they need time for themselves (Moon and Chica **cough cough** )... Freddy and Monty are pretty adaptable considering that.

- They all have their different types of love language too, so you will never get too short on anything, it also means you will need to provide for them equally which might be a bit draining sometimes, but they are all (more or less-) understanding of it and are more than willing to take a step back if you need it.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xviii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, obnoxious flirting, mention of death, injuries, hospitals, weapons, etc

Word count: 7.6k

A/N: this chapter was supposed to be short. anyway, happy 6 months to this disaster fic! thank you to the anon who suggested the idea for the beginning of this chapter. my anon who sent me the tiktok about the funny lil vacuum cleaner and the other anon and @rivercocytus for mackie’s steel blue eyes line that’s used here

also im not very sure if this is a good chapter. if i disappoint anyone, just know that i didn't mean to fkjghfkjgh

If you want more nonsense, you can head on over to Harmless Mini Drabbles :))

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

This was quite possibly the biggest, stupidest decision he had ever made and hoo boy, was that list hard to top.

“Wanda-” Bucky shuts his eyes tightly, pressing his fingers to his temples to alleviate his growing stress headache -”what the fuck are we doing?”

“Planning a date.” She pops a piece of caramel popcorn into her mouth, considerably less stressed. Why would she be? She didn’t have a date in less than 10 hours that she was grossly unprepared for. 

“No, I mean-” he begins but it just ends in an exhale. “What the fuck am I doing?”

“Growing a stress ulcer.”

Entirely unhelpful, thanks.

“What’s got you so worked up? Do you regret asking her out?” She rattles the bowl in front of him. He turns it down with a quick sigh.

“Fuck no.” His answer comes back immediately.

“Okay, if that’s not the problem, then this is something we can solve.” Wanda brushes off her hands, setting the pencil down before sitting upright. “Look at the list.”

Bucky bolts up. “Don’t read out the list.”

“Skydiving?” she questions when he's too late to stop her, eyebrows knitted together. “When did we add skydiving?”

“After an escape room and dinner at that waterfront place.” He groans, voice drowned out by the pillow pressed against his face.

“There’s also pottery lessons.”

He doesn't even remember writing that.

“Wanda, what was I thinking?”

“Too much.” She hums, still pouring over the bullet points. “Stop overthinking this. You know what she’d like, you’re just freaking out.”

“I don’t know anything at this point," he mumbles to himself.

“Okay, how about we remove things she won’t like?” Wanda suggests, quiet scratches against paper as she begins to strike out multiple options. “We can start with fishing.”

“We wrote fishing?” Bucky lifts his head off the pillow to frown.

“And Walmart.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, it just says Walmart.”

He wants to die.

“Shoulda just left this up to her, she’s the creative one,” he grumbles. Bucky’s just the muscle. The next time you asked him out jokingly he should have agreed and gone with it.

But here he was with fucking Walmart on his list.

“Just ask her then,” Wanda’s face is sympathetic, given that it's hours since they've been at this, “or maybe her friend. It’d narrow things down.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” he says instantly. “Where’s my phone?”

She tosses it towards him before picking up her popcorn again.

He doesn't even have to fully unlock his phone to see a string of texts populating his notification bar, frown growing deeper with each one.

From T

Just in case she doesn’t decide to tell you: she’s at Mercy West General

From Villain(ish)

Whatever T’s saying, ignore it

From T

She’s at the ER

From Villain(ish)

I’m fine

From Villain(ish)

Sort of

From T

She needs constant adult supervision

From Villain(ish)

See you at 7 for our date

“How the fuck,” Bucky says the second he finds you in the emergency room, talking animatedly with your best friend.

“I can explain-” you begin, holding your hands up.

“She was building, it backfired, she got her leg fucked up,” T does it instead, disappointment clear as day on her face as she stands beside your bed with her arms across her chest.

“First of all, it’s a sprain.” You roll your eyes. “Second of all, it didn’t backfire. I tripped.”

“On what?”

You look like struggling to control yourself. “While… while I was falling for yo-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Bucky cuts in, saving you the trouble.

“Some cable that was just lying around." Your expression turns half-mad, which isn't a look he sees very often. “It usually never happens.”

Bucky stares at you. “Why do I find that so hard to believe?”

“You’re not supposed to be bullying me, I’m hurt.” You glare back at him. "I'm in a hospital and everything."

“You should get bullied.”

“I can feel my sprain physically getting worse," you deadpan. “Ow.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “What’d the doc say?”

“Ice it, don’t strain and meds,” T pipes up before you have a chance to make things worse.

“I’ll be back on my feet in no time," you offer in condolence. "Like a sexy kangaroo or something.”

“I’m gonna get your prescription and then you’re going straight home." T, ignores you with ease. After many years, her ability to fine-tune her ears against most of the garbage that came from you is a valuable skill.

“But I already have an inator in mind.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs the piece of paper left beside you.

“Don’t,” she warns before turning on her heel and leaving in search of the pharmacy.

“Will you drop me off at the lair?” You peer up at Bucky hopefully.

“No.”

“Traitor.” You huff. “I’ve left all the lights on, my electricity bill’s gonna be-”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Damn it," you swear. "Okay, I'm out of excuses. You can relax now."

Bucky lets his arms fall to his sides, a small smile taking over his face.

“You couldn’t not invent for one day?” he asks, gently sitting down on the bed.

"I was nervous," you mumble, eyes downcast. "Tried to keep myself distracted."

His gaze softens. It helped, in a strange sort of way, to know that it wasn't just him.

"You're an idiot."

"I'm well aware of that."

Bucky slips his fingers over yours. “Hurts bad?”

“Not so much now.” You swing the bandaged foot lightly as if to prove your point.

He watches you do it, wondering how long till you hit your leg on the bedpost. “Sexy kangaroo, huh?”

“You into that kinda thing?”

“You shouldn’t be allowed to talk.”

You crack a smile and it's easy to tell that you’re in slight disarray. He wonders if the pain’s already gotten to your head. Wonders if he should maybe cancel his mission tomorrow, even though practically he knows it isn't possible.

“Of all the damn days-” you start in mild annoyance. He lets out a small laugh. “I’m serious. And now you’re running off for two weeks to save the world while I die alone.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You have Jake and the cat.”

“Alpine doesn’t care about me.” You fiddle with Bucky’s fingers lightly. “Jake’s still at yoga camp. I'm pretty sure he accidentally joined a cult, so we can say goodbye to that story.”

Bucky hums lightly. “What flowers d’you want at your funeral?”

It elicits a chuckle from you. “Fuck you.”

You rock your leg again. The bedpost looks awfully close this time around, but he makes no comment. 

“‘S okay.” You bump his shoulder with yours. “We can always reschedule for when you’re back.”

He just gives a distant noise in acknowledgement.

“Once you’re all bruised up, we can pretend like we’re in one of those boxing movies.” Your eyes gleam. “You stumble into my apartment with blood on your knuckles.”

“I have super healing.”

“I tend to your wounds, we share a moment.”

“Why would I come to your apartment when I have a med bay at the Tower?”

“Because of romance.”

“Do you have any medical experience?” Bucky scoffs. “And I don’t do romance.”

“Bold claim coming from you while we’re literally sharing a bed right now.”

“That’s not the sa-” he blows a breath out. “Jesus Christ, even when you’re injured you won’t give up.”

The place smells like disinfectant. He’s almost too used to it. The sting of alcohol doesn’t even burn anymore. 

“Stop swinging your leg around so much, you’re gonna hit something,” he says finally. 

You don’t break your intense gaze with him as you swing it harder. He rolls his eyes.

“If I die before you’re back, would you speak at my memorial?”

He flicks your shoulder. “Stop being morbid.”

You laugh. “I’m serious. I need you to go up there and look like you’ve been cryin’ for days.”

“No.”

“Fine, then at least stand far away with an umbrella, sunglasses and a trench coat. We can make it look like I died under mysterious circumstances.”

“That I can do.”

“Great, it’s settled then.” You grin at him. “I’m gonna look so cool.”

“Right.” He snorts. 

“Teamwork, bestie.”

“Glad I could help.”

Your leg hits the bedpost with a resounding clang. 

Bucky tries and fails to hide a laugh when you curse loudly, his only saving grace being that he had the common decency to not say that he told you so.

Either way, he knows he has to prepare to deal with your whining for the next ten minutes till T came back.

But your head drops onto his shoulder, and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t mind if you bitch and blame for all eternity as long as you stayed like that.

Turns out there’s only so much inventing and watching trash TV can get you on a night that was destined to be a lot more interesting. 

Your anti-gravity boot... inator definitely enables you to move around a lot easier- no pain if its military grade protective material and insulated padding prevents you from feeling anything you could possibly bump into. 

The only downside was that its balance was still definitely off. The anti-gravity part aided in making sure you weren’t exerting too much pressure on it as you hopped around, but the stupid thing kept rising like a helium balloon. Still, it wasn’t too bad for a few hours worth of effort. 

With nothing much to do and all candy demolished, Alpine goes through a series of costume changes. She isn’t too bothered, God knows she’s put up with worse. Little assistant looks like she enjoys some of them. 

The group chat, in a great show of solidarity, rates each outfit out of ten. Her as a wizard is unsurprisingly the highest scoring one of the night. Bucky, however, picks her little cowboy costume as his choice. 

You almost consider wearing the stupid, makeshift cast you’ve conjured up that evening and dragging him along on a new adventure, just for the hell of it.

You even go as far as sending him a text, asking him what he’s up to before you show up outside his bedroom. 

He sends you a picture of his half-packed backpack. A granola bar sits unfinished on top of it.

Fuckin’ superheroes.

You never thought it’d come to this... but maybe it was time to start the cheese business. The plan B. The backup.

From what you knew, Drusselsteinien Limburger took 58 years to age. No better time than the present-

A knock on the door drags you out of your boredom induced near-crisis.

You hobble over to it, almost immediately your arms wildly and grabbing onto the nearest bookshelf to keep yourself from falling over. You shove your foot down before pulling it open, braving a grin and smoothing out your clothes.

“Hey, Agent J,” you greet calmly as if the last minute or two didn’t just happen. “What’s up?”

“Just checking if everything is alright, miss,” Agent J says courteously. You know for a fact that his name is Jordan- it’s easy to get to know anyone after offering them lunch three times in a vain effort to gain any kind of company. Out of politeness, you still refer to him as Agent.

“Everything’s all good. Did you grab a bite to eat?” You’re about to ask the first out of many times if he would like slice of pizza and to watch Project Runway. 

“My shift ends in thirty minutes.” He casts a glance at his watch. “I’ll get some food then.” 

“Okay.” You nod, “but if you need anything, you can always ask.”

He flashes you a quick smile and excuses himself.

There goes that plan. 

S.H.I.E.L.D.’s appointed security detail was… proficient at what they did. Constant patrol, regular check in’s- any time there was so much as a car that drove down the street twice, details were noted down.

The clown brigade didn’t get too far, unfortunately. Last you heard they were detained for questioning in SHIELD’s Jersey unit. Which probably meant it was the last you were gonna see of Nico. 

Poor guy. He deserved better.

You’re back to trying to walk and failing miserably at it in an attempt to make it to your bedroom. 

It barely takes a minute for you to stumble magnificently. With the grace of a newborn deer, your one leg goes up the air and hand sticks out to break your fall, dragging down a vase with you. 

You cringe as it crashes noisily to the floor, meanwhile your body stuck in a half-split. 

You’re only thankful it’s not Jake’s stupid fruit bowl. You’d rather break your other foot than have to hear his shriek when he realises his Home Depot masterpiece had disappeared in the few days he wasn’t here. 

There’s a knock on the door again. Not even halfway through your journey you’re forced to turn around and tend to it before Agent J breaks it down in a desperate attempt to save you from yourself. 

“Hello again.” You smile easily, opening the door only as much would allow your head to show through. 

“Did you hear that noise?” Agent J tries not to peek over your shoulder, even though you can’t quite see through his dark glasses. 

Behind the door, you force your leg down again. “My fault, I just tripped over something.”

Look, it wasn’t like you weren’t able to protect yourself. You were fully prepared. Extra prepared, in fact, for any intruders. It’s just that he was catching you at your less fine moments. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you.” You cast him a grateful look. “I’ll let you know if there’s an issue.”

Agent J hesitantly takes a step back, eyes flickering behind you. You wait for him to turn around before shutting the door as gently as you could, trying not to rouse any more suspicions. 

“Okay,” you say under your breath. “It’s just a few feet away. You got this.” 

You gingerly limp over to the cupboard, holding onto anything sturdy along the way to ensure you make it there in one piece. 

It’s more or less successful- only one photo frame lost in the process- and you pull out a broom and your vacuum. The latter of the two was a bright yellow, accented in purple and handheld, cartoonishly large letters branding its name on the side. 

Probably the best EvilCon purchase you’d ever made, second only to the laser pointer for Alpine.

The smile on your face is devilish when it roars to life with an obnoxiously loud ‘pew’ sound. You point it towards the mess on the floor, proper due process be damned, and watch it suck the glass towards it.  

The glass rattles around in its body rather delightfully the joy soon gives way to a string of curses when you realise what any loud, unnatural sound from your house invited these days. 

You give it three seconds before there’s a knock on the door.

“Fucking-” you mumble to yourself before dragging yourself to the door. 

With a defeated sigh, you begin, “Agent J, I promise-”

“Heard there’s been suspicious noises reported here tonight. Thought I’d come check it out.”

Oh.

You blink. “Bucky.”

“Hi,” he says. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” you’re a little dazed but you lean against the doorframe. “A little too early to be stumblin’ into my apartment with blood on your knuckles. Don’t even have the supplies yet.”

“I’ll just leave then.” He gestures backwards with his shoulder.

You take note of the large paper bags he managed to balance in his arms, leaning his chin over them to look at you. Fuck, he looked adorable. 

You smile wide, shoving your foot down. “I didn’t know you were showing up here.”

“Yeah, neither did I, but then you went and broke your foot.”

“Sprained, and I’ll have it fixed by next week.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I’m inventing as we speak.”

“What, a Fix-Your-Foot-inator?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Or a cure for your dumbass disease?”

“Rude.”

Bucky raises the bags up. “Can I come in?”

“No, you’re staying out there tonight. Hope you brought a sleeping bag,” you say, moving aside to make space for him, pressing your cast foot firmly only the ground and using it to pivot. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He stops for a second to look you up and down before walking in. “You look real pretty.”

The heat that spread through your face was annoyingly intense. “You into painkiller-high chic now?”

“Nah, just you in general.” This motherfucker’s gradual increase in smoothness was unprecedented. “Why do you have your leg in the air?”

You follow his line of sight, landing on your foot that was suspended off the ground like a damn burlesque dancer. 

“Oh, you know. The usual.” You don’t bother explaining any further, forcing your leg down and locking the door behind you as you tried to follow him as normally as possible. “What’s with all the groceries? We finally moving in together?“ 

“I’m pretty sure you were the one who told me I should cook for you.” He sets the bag down on the kitchen counter. “It ain’t expensive wine and cheap burgers but I figured it’d do. But I got those too, just in case.”

He points to the bag where the logo of a fast-food company presses against the plastic. 

“Mr Barnes,” you pipe up, a dopey smile on your face, “you are a closeted romantic.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

You hobble your way over to where he was, almost falling over but not quite. “How do I help?”

“You don’t. I’m cooking.”

You figure the safest bet you have right now is to hop onto the kitchen counter as he begins to unload things carefully from the bag. A lot of vegetables, bread, pasta sheets- the man was actually well prepared.

“I wanna help.”

“Just sit there.” He glances up at you. “You’re hurt and dyin’, remember?”

“Boo.” You cross your leg over your cast to keep it from rising. 

Bucky does a quick survey of his surroundings before setting his eyes on something. 

He drops Jake’s fruit bowl right beside you. 

“You’re in charge of keeping that safe.”

Maybe you should have broken that shit after all.

You scoff out a laugh. “You’re terrible.”

“You’re a liability.” His eyes have the familiar glint that let you know he’s not being serious. “And no inators this evening. Don’t wanna be responsible for a house fire.”

“None,” you swear, leaning on your hands for support and pressing your foot down harder. “I thought you were supposed to be packing.”

“I’ll finish it tomorrow.” He does a quick recount of everything he’s laid out so far on your counter. 

“I could have just shown up at your place. Would have been easier for you.” Would have been a trip and a half for you but he didn’t have to know that. 

“I considered that,” he divulges, “but the team’s being annoying. Wouldn’t leave the Tower so I changed plans and shifted here.”

“You’re telling me they wouldn’t evacuate their house for you to cook your date dinner?” You snort. “Pretty selfish of them, if you ask me.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” He lets a smile slip past his lips. It leaves you a little star struck. 

“On a more serious note,” your voice is more solemn, “shouldn’t you be resting? Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”

Bucky hums. “Who cares?”

“I do,” you press. “You need energy.”

“D’you like lasagna?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Yeah, but-”

“Garlic bread?”

“Buck-”

“What?”

“I’m not kidding, you don’t have to do all this.” You press your lips together in a straight line. “We could just wait till you’re back.”

“I think we’ve waited long enough.” He shrugs. “So unless you want me out of your house, is that a ‘yes’ on the garlic bread?”

A smile makes its way onto your face. “Fuckin’ love garlic bread.”

“Good.” Bucky nods. “Your foot’s in the air again.”

You shove it back down.

Once he’s done a headcount and made sure everything he needs is there, he locks his phone and sets it back in his pocket. 

He opens his mouth to ask you something, only to find you staring at him intently and with a slight crease between your boy like you’re contemplating something really hard. 

“You good?”

It snaps you out of your internal debate of trying to decide what you like better- the navy blue sweater he has on that looks sinfully good on him or the little apron he’s secured around his waist.

“Never been better,” you reply honestly.

“Okay.” The corner of his mouth quirks upward. “Where are your knives?”

“What, you didn’t bring your own?” You point them out, watching him tie his hair into a little bun. You want to cry, really. 

“Those aren’t exactly used for vegetables.”

“Knife is knife.”

Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Smart.”

“Top of my class.” You watch him pull one of the knives out by its hilt, his sweater sleeves pull upto his elbows. The plates in his metal arm shift silently. 

Balancing it on his finger, the knife stays perfectly straight, not tilted towards any side. 

“Show off.”

“Force of habit.” Bucky shrugs, doing a little flip before catching it firmly.  

“Show off.”

“Yeah, okay, that was.” He chuckles, and you’re about to join in with another teasing remark until you remember something.

Your smile drops.

Fuck.

“Chopping board’s over there,” you say quickly, “and put that knife down before you hurt yourself.”

He looks at you in surprise. “The knife?”

You know how ridiculous it sounds. One of the best assassins in the world, who you had on more than one occasion caught throwing, juggling and flipping blades like they were made of rubber as a way to pass time.

“Yes, the knife,” you insist regardless.

“I can handle a knife,” he says slowly, deliberately, like a reminder.

Not when it turns into a fucking sword if he presses the wrong button, he can’t.

“My knives are special.” You tap the counter. “Official rules state that we do not move while holding knives in this kitchen.”

He stares at you, trying to gauge your reaction. You stare back, cracking a smile in hopes that he’d take it as a dumb joke and just go with it. 

In a unlikely moment of victory, he complies, and you know it’s because under the rock hard exterior and abs, he is a kind soul. 

He leaves the knife next you, albeit while looking at you like you’ve grown three heads. That you can deal with. Accidental stabbing, you can’t. 

You wait until he walks over to the cutting board. It only gives you a few seconds to grab the knife he set down, swiftly pressing down on the three rivets securing the handle to the blade in a pattern only you were aware of. You sigh when a soft click comes through.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“Nothing.” You flash him a quick smile. “Just checking to see if it was clean.”

You hold out the knife gingerly and he takes it. You watch it closely, hoping that it doesn’t blow up into a sword, possibly driving a hole through your kitchen wall.

“Good grip,” he notes.

“It’s custom made,” you say weakly.

How are you supposed to think in advance when he’s standing in your kitchen looking like a domestic husband with no frown for once.

True to his word, he definitely can handle a knife- and he’s surprisingly adept at cutting vegetables with it too. Not like you’d expect any less from him.

“Did you get through to Jake finally?”

“Oh, yeah.” You watch him shove the chopped ones all to one side before moving onto the others. “He called me a moron, and then said he’s on his way back.”

“I guess he’s joining in then,” Bucky says, hint of humour in his voice. “I’ll make extra.”

“Obviously. You’re the third wheel here.” However, the idea of dating Jake isn’t one that you can stomach for too long leading to a quick shudder. “No, I told him to stay where he was and that I’d be fine.”

“He okay with that?” Despite the tumultuous conversations you shared with the guy, he cared deeply about whether you lived or died. Under dire circumstances, he would even so far as to call you an acquaintance. 

“I told him I wouldn’t let him in the apartment.” You shrug. “He doesn’t get a lot of time off, he shouldn’t have to come back just because of a little sprain.”

Bucky’s gaze shifts between your cast and you. “How long till it heals?”

“Doc says three weeks, but with my intellect, I’d say a week and a half.”

He stops cutting for a moment, shoulders still hunched over the board. You look at him in slight confusion.

“You’re gonna do something stupid and I’m not gonna know about it till I’m back,” he mumbles.

“Nonsense, I save all the stupid for when I’m with you.” You grin. “Say, what are your thoughts on paper cuts?”

“Not a fan.”

“Great, I have my next idea.”

“Papercut Inator?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Seems mild.”

“Can’t go big all the time, Bucky. I have a budget, you know.”

“And you spend it all on confetti guns.”

“That’s important.”

He hums but says nothing further. “Skillet?”

“There.” You point to the cabinet it rests in.

He picks it up, pausing for a second before holding it up in front of you.

“You got a problem with me using this or…” he trails off, “because I’m pretty sure I can handle a pan.”

It takes a quick second to wonder whether you’ve actually fucked with the pan or not before deciding on a probably not.

“We’re gonna have wait and see.”

Thankfully, things are fine for a while. Non-lethal, at the very least. 

The potential death trap you’ve set out is quickly evaded by switching out a few salt shakers and spice jars when he’s not looking to prevent potential explosions.

Everything smells pretty darn great, and in an impressive show of skills, he’s not burnt anything yet.

“Geez, you weren’t kidding about the whole cooking stuff, huh?”

“Don’t do it often.” He looks down at the garlic butter he’s spreading on the loaf. “‘S more of a coping mechanism than anything.”

“How good are you at baking?” Your foot hits the counter lightly when you shove it down again. It was getting harder to remember that it had a tendency to float. 

“Stop swinging your leg,” he says absentmindedly. “I’m okay at it.”

You have to remember to keep your leg crossed over it, even if it was getting sore. 

“What if I call you the next time the school has a bake sale?”

“I’m not selling cookies at your school.”

“Fine, you bake and I’ll sell ‘em.” You wiggle your eyebrows.

You hear a small crash in the background. He quirks an eyebrow at it before you dismiss it as probably being Alpine. Things like that were normal around here; it’d be weirder if there wasn’t an unexplained noise every once and a while.  

“You’re gonna exploit me for your bake sale?”

“We’ll split the profit.”

“I’m putting in all the work.”

“It takes a good face to market, and I got the best face.”

He doesn’t put forth an opposing argument, instead turning around to grab something else from his ingredients.

There’s another crash, and fortunately he elects to ignore it. 

Unfortunately for you, the unmistakable whir of wheels accompanies it in the distance and dread instantly fills your stomach when it you’re hit with the realisation of what the source actually is. 

It enters the room, slowly and sticking to the wall like the trained little menace it was. 

Your intruder preventer droid stares up at you with pixelated heart eyes. It looks fucking adorable but you wave your hand around furiously to get it to go away.

Blasphemous thing takes it as a sign to enter, almost immediately bumping into the trashcan in the corner of the room. You internally scream.

“Hey!” you call out to Bucky, startling him with the sudden raise in volume. 

“Why are you yelling?” he asks, slightly baffled. 

To mask the fucking noise of the droid beeping while it backed up like a garbage truck, what else-

“I’m just so excited you’re here,” you cover-up pathetically, giving him a wide toothed smile, more nervous than anything. 

His eyebrows furrow. “You’re bein’ weirder than usual.”

“Ah, well, you know-” you wave your hand around vaguely. “Pain meds or something.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced, lips pursued inwards and eyes alight in barely-there humour. “Mhm.”

The intruder droid rolls up behind him curiously, scaling his size with a scan.

“D’you want some grapes?” you ask hastily, reaching for them from Jake’s bowl because tragically, they are the only weapons you have on hand. 

The swords weren’t exactly subtle and you din’t want to kill a perfectly good droid before you had to. It was cute. Sometimes it sang ABBA.

Bucky glances towards at the bowl of fruit. “I’m good.”

“Your pasta’s done.” You point to the pot of boiling water, not actually sure if it was, but hell it’d been there long enough. 

He wipes at his brow and goes to tend to that, and you take advantage of his momentary distraction to launch a grape at the droid.

It veers backwards, turning around and shooting out a laser to eliminate the threat. You wanted to cheer at the fact that it worked rather well, but you genuinely wish it didn’t right now. 

“Was this always the idea?” Hopefully, if you could keep his attention on you, he’d miss the stupid bot. “Ending up at my place on our first night out?”

“Nah, was probably gonna go with a trapeze class.”

“That’s more of a third date kinda thing.” You throw another piece but it misses, bouncing off on the floor somewhere. A second and a third shot similarly doesn’t reach the target.

It tilts its head up at Bucky.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The droid wouldn’t do much damage but you knew for a fact that Bucky appreciated having both his ankles intact for his job.

You curse at it, kicking your anti-gravity cast in its direction. 

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re gonna make your sprain worse,” he groans, stopping his layering of the sauce and sheets alternatively.

You snap your head up. “Did you hear someone at the door?”

The suddenness of the topic change works to distract him temporarily. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s Agent J.” You keep your eyes on him despite the fact that you can see the droid steadily advance towards him from the corner of your eye. “He usually knocks to check if I’m okay.”

“Are you?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed. “Those painkillers gettin’ to you?”

“I’m all good, Buck.” You look past him to the stupid droid, hoping it runs into a stray grape along the way. “But could you tell him that? He’s probably just here to let me know his shift’s done.”

The concern is apparent on his face but he drags out a slow ‘okay’, setting the glass dish away from the edge of the counter. The bot, by a miracle, runs into the same trash can as before, leaving it completely unnoticed by Bucky as. he walks out of the kitchen.

The second he's out of sight, you jump off the counter, one strong step towards the stupid droid. Anything more than that and your date would find you sprawled on the floor. 

“Intruder detected. Attack.” Its default message rings.

“No intruder.” You want to cry at how cute its little voice is but instead you put it on silent.

“There’s no one here.” You hear Bucky gently close the door. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Swear I am, I think it’s just the meds.” In a flash you scoop it up by its head before pulling open the oven door and throwing it inside.

You hop back onto the counter, settling back in your position and regain your breathing. The droid bangs against the door. You kick it with your foot.

“Do you want me to get our doc to take a look at you?” Bucky’s voice gets louder as he gets closer. 

“Nope.” You swing your legs casually as he reappears. “Unless your doc has a cure for my dumbass disease.”

“That’s incurable.” He stops in his path, eyes slowly dropping down. “There are grapes on the floor.”

“Huh,” you say stupidly, “guess there are. Musta dropped them.”

He narrows his eyes at you. You smile back awkwardly.

“You need sleep,” he says, lifting up the glass dish to place it in the oven. “You’re eating dinner and that’s it for today.” 

You nod lazily before it suddenly hits you.

"No, wait!" You grab his face, kicking your foot against the oven door to keep it shut. You can feel the droid push at the door in an attempt to get out. 

Bucky freezes, looking at you slightly wide-eyed. "...what?"

Your eyes flicker down for just a second and it's like time slows down. You instinctively brush his cheekbone with your thumb and his breath hitches. 

"You, uh-" you swallow the lump in your throat. “You're very pretty."

"Thank you?" He blinks.

There’s a thick silence that ensues. Bucky’s chest rises and falls steadily, grip on the glass dish tightening. The laugh lines around his eyes were more prominent up close. 

“Yeah." You let go of his face slowly, clearing your throat when you feel the droid give up. “Those steel blue eyes let you know where home is.”

He snorts, recovering rather quickly. “Alright.”

“It's my safe place,” you continue, trying to get rid of the image out of him so close to your face out of your mind.

“You done?”

“Not yet.” You grin. “I’ll put it in the oven, you go open the wine. We got plenty more to go.”

“You’re not supposed to be on your feet.”

It’s late in the evening and you’ve had damn near enough of your Home Alone style traps, and it shows when you say, “Trust me when I say it’s easier for both of us if I just help with this one thing.”

He looks at you sceptically. You bat your eyelashes innocently in return.

“Fuckin’ knew I shoulda bought two bottles.” He leaves the tray on the countertop, taking the plates and cutlery with him. 

You breathe out a little sigh once he’s out of the way before hopping off the counter and yanking open the oven door.

The droid launches itself past you with pent up ferocity and you tug it backwards.

“Bad droid,” you whisper. “Bad, bad droid.”

“Attack,” it says robotically. “Intruder detected. Attack.”

“Not him.” You fumble for the kill-switch as it struggled against your grip. “Why don’t you ever do this to Jake?”

“Intruder detected. Attack.”

“What’d you say?” Bucky calls out from the dining table. 

“Timer’s at twenty minutes, right?” you deflect loudly.

“Intruder voice detected.”

“Shut up, please.” You finally push the button, watching it die down in your hands. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

“Yeah, twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” You open the nearest cabinet and shove it inside carelessly, hoping it stays there without any more drama. 

It sputters in defiance. You gave a sharp thud against the door with your hand and it doesn’t make any more noise, at least not for the time being. 

“You good?” Bucky appears at the doorway, his apron now swung over his shoulder like a towel.

“Perfect.” You smile up at him, smoothly sliding the dish into the oven like nothing happened. “If this recipe works, it’s because I was so good at setting the timer.”

There’s a serving of the most amazing smelling lasagna, probably the best-looking garlic bread you’d ever seen and a good bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of your couch. Bucky was busy scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch, occasionally stopping to ask for your input. 

And though this was probably the most ideal situation, given the circumstances, you can’t stop glancing towards the kitchen for any new surprises that may come your way.

“Did you forget something there?” Bucky asks after you look over his shoulder for the tenth time.

“No, no,” you mumble. “Just checkin’ to see if Alpine’s alright.”

“I thought she went to bed.” She did, after scarfing down the little treat Bucky bought for her. You told him he spoiled her. He brandished another treat from his pocket in retaliation. 

“Thought I heard her walkin’ about.” 

“You know,” he says casually, pausing at the ‘horror’ section of the catalogue, “your murder bot’s not gonna get out of that cabinet.”

“You don’t know that yet-” you say distractedly before reeling back. “Wait, what murder bot?”

“The one that’s been rolling around the kitchen all evening.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Almost stepped on it a few times.”

“You fuckin’ knew?” Your jaw drops unceremoniously. 

“I’m a stealth agent. I’ve been trained for decades.” He snorts. “And you’re terrible at being subtle. If you were even trying.”

Guess you weren’t.

Your nose scrunches up. “You said no inators.”

“I didn’t think you’d take it that seriously.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“I dunno.” You shrug. “Figured we deserved a night off from them.”

He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Listen, you like them. They’re important to you.” He looks ahead again. “You know I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“We’re a package deal.” 

“I’m aware.”

You conceal a smile. “A closeted romantic.”

“Shut up.” He grunts, exhaling out a laugh shortly after. “Pick a damn movie.”

You were already on a different tangent, the whole evening replaying in your head viscerally. 

“I spent so long trying to stop that thing from getting rid of your ankles,” you whine. “Do you even care about your ankles?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“And my cast won’t stop floating and the knives are swords.” Maybe you should get rid of a few of them. It seemed like overkill. “What would I have done if you stabbed yourself?”

Bucky shakes his head at you in disbelief. “How the fuck do you live here?”

“They’re not always around. I just work around them, usually,” you mumble. “Woulda evil-proofed the apartment if I knew you were showing up.”

Bucky points to a handheld inator that’s propped up against the corner of the room, a bright yellow in colour and accentuated in purple. “What’s that?”

“Oh, that’s just a vacuum cleaner.” You forgot to put it away after the earlier fiasco.

He looks at you, unamused.

“I’m not kidding.” You laugh. “I swear, it makes a ‘pew pew’ sound and everythin’ but it’s just a regular vacuum cleaner. I could show you if you want.”

The one thing he thinks could be a weapon and it turns out not to be.

“What are we watching?” He reverts his attention back to something he could predict.

“I don’t know.” You watch him flip through channels. “We started watching Breaking Bad the last time you were here.”

“There’s been more than enough drugs for one night.”

“Fair point,” you concede. “The rest of this date’s just us scrolling through Netflix’s catalogue.”

“Who said this was a date? This is for security puposes.”

To be fair, he forgot it was a date. It just seemed like any other day of hanging out with you which, he now supposes, were mini-dates. Turns out Clint was right about one thing after all, even though it was months ago. 

“You’re in too deep, buddy.” You shuffle closer to him. “Security or not, you’re here eating dinner with me.”

“I’m here on duty.”

“Fine, answer me this.” You sit up straight, twisting your body to look at him. “You’re supposed to do your duty.”

He waits for you to continue, nodding slowly.

“And if I’m your duty,” you begin, “then you should be doing me.”

He stares at you. “Pick a damn movie.”

“Sure.” You flop back, a little too easily.

He’s this close to asking how you agreed that easily.

Until he notices a sinister smile on your face and he already dreads what you’re about to start playing.

The wine glass was discarded a long time ago, the bottle finding its way into his grip halfway through the movie along with a prayer that he could get drunk again. He had the same reaction the first time around, too. 

Your anti-gravity military grade cast came off 15 minutes into the movie after it blocked his view. He insisted you keep it on, more for his sanity than anything. You immediately took threw it off, leaving only the bandage around it. 

“Wish I could actually get drunk,” he mumbles. “Get this shit-for-brains movie out of my head.”

“Kissing Booth 2-” you start but he already starts protesting “-is amazing. It’s got two guys.”

“They look the same.”

“And what’s the problem with that?”

“They’re both idiots.”

“You just don’t get it.”

By the time the credits start rolling, Bucky wants to commit arson.

“Never again,” he announces. “I’m never watching a movie with you again.”

“But the third one-”

“Never again,” he repeats, more determination in his voice than earlier. 

“How are you fine with horror movies and not this?”

“I don’t mind good ones, this is just garbage,” he argues. “Horror movies are fine, I see worse shit on a daily basis.”

“New plan, listen to this.” You hold up a finger. “So kiss me if I’m wrong, but-”

“Okay.”

You blink at him. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

He shrugs, looking you straight in the eye. “Heard what I had to.”

Whatever reply you have dies down in your throat.

You bite your lip when his stare doesn’t shift. 

The doorbell drags you out of it.

Both of your heads snap towards the door.

Bucky lets out a small noise as he pushes himself off the couch. “You expecting anyone?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend.” You shake your head to get yourself under control, before getting up yourself to follow him. 

“I’ll warm up the leftovers.” 

The door opens to another agent, dressed in all black from head to toe, including night-vision goggles. It reminds you of the time when that was all Bucky wore to meet you, his blue sweater a stark contrast to what used to be. 

“Hey, Agent P.” You give him a smile.

“Ma’am.” He nods. “Just a regular reporting and check in.”

“Everything’s good here.” You steal a glance at Bucky.  

“You know what to do if you need any assistance.”

“Scream bloody murder and bust out the ol’ baseball bat.”

He doesn’t move a muscle.

“And hit the safety switch y’all gave me twice,” you murmur in a follow-up. “Have a safe patrol.”

“Thank you.” He sends Bucky a curt acknowledgement before turning on his heel and leaving.

Bucky doesn’t bother closing the door behind him, instead, watching him leave. “Your boyfriend didn’t take any leftovers.”

“Ah, it’s okay. He’ll be back.” You cross your arms over your chest.

He leans against the door frame with a small smile. “It’s late.”

“Uh huh.” If Agent P was here for his shift, it meant that it was close to midnight.

“I should get going.”

“Guess you do.”

“Gotta pack,” he feels like he should explain even though he doesn’t really need to.

“Those guns aren’t gonna pack themselves.” You tap his bicep.

“Terrible.”

“I aim to please.”

Bucky laughs, and maybe you wanna tug him by the collar of his stupid sweater and kiss him against the door. 

“I had a good time,” you admit rather.

“Me too.” It was just as chaotic as he imagined it would be.

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Don’t know.” He exhales, hooking his thumbs into the pocket of his jeans. “Depends on what time Barton wakes up from his hangover.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease, face falling into an easy smirk.

“No chance.” He scoffs. Maybe the sweltering heat of Qatar would be enough of a distraction.

“Liar.”

“Some fuckin’ peace and quiet for two weeks.”

“You’re annoying,” It’s definitely an inside joke at this point, “and I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

Still, there’s a bright smile on his face and the makings of an evening well spent in his eyes. You love it. 

Bucky takes a calm step towards you.

You take a step right back.

“If you whisper in my ear again, I will attack you,” you warn from experience, “sprained foot and all.”

Bucky laughs. “No, not this time.”

Instead, his lips are warm against your cheek. He lets it linger there for a slow second before pulling back, and you find it hard to stop smiling.

“You should get some rest,” he says softly, returning back to his original place at the doorway.

“Mhm.” As much as you hate it, there’s a small sense of disappointment, even though the heat that spread through your face screamed otherwise.

“I know what you’re thinkin’.”

You look at him, mouth quirking upwards.

“Not like this.” He gives you a half-smile. “Maybe next time, when you’re not jacked up on meds.”

You could live with that.

if you like this series, please do consider supporting my ko-fi <3

Next part

[thrndlngs]

@ anon who requested this, v sorry that i deleted it. <3

holding hands with mha boys includes,

ft. tetsutetsu, mirio, sero & shinsou.

TETSUTETSU,

okay, so, i think he’d try to show off the first time the two of you ‘meet’. not in like a prideful person kind of way but kinda like “omg there’s my crush i need to draw attention to myself so they see me.” kinda thing.

once y’all start dating...man... expect to third wheel when kirishima’s around.

you’re constantly hurting urself every time you try to flick him when ur upset but you refuse to not flick him because the face he makes after is funny asf.

“there’s a puddle let me carry you over it.”

“oh would you look at that, we’re gonna be late, let me carry you.”

“oh you’re tired? let me carry you back to the dorms.”

do you see the pattern here? it’s not because you walk slow but he just likes feeling needed.

quick kisses in the hallway because he’s rushing to class because he insited on walking you to yours.

all of your dates are either revolving around food or outdoor acitivites. he likes to walk around alot because it’s ‘good for your health’ but it’s because of the way yours eyes look in the sunlight - he just think it’s to corny to admit it aloud.

normal ‘pda’. like you know, holding hands in the hallways or crowded areas. but if ur not cofortable with that he’s cool. but he’s still gonna go around and be like, “sooooo my partner made me this or my partner bought me that.”

like this man bRAGS ABOUT YOU. 

you’re the reason he has a permanent smile.

MIRIO,

uh hopefully you enjoy hearing your name being called from down the hall because he thinks he saw you. the moment he even thinks he sees you, it’s like someone’s pointing a light up yellow arrow over your damn head.

knows how to make you smile/laugh. always.

uses his quirk to do the stupidest shit to make you laigh because your laugh makes him laugh.

leaving cute little notes in//on your locker.

if you’re not into PDA, at first he was kinda bummed because he wants to bear hug you in the middle of the hallway

BUT if you’re down for PDA he’s gonna swing your ass all dramatic like when he hugs you.

shows you in kisses even if he did just saw you five minutes ago.

expect to wake up to sim messages back to back on how beautiful you are and how you’re like, the missing puzzle piece or some corny shit like that.

if you think this man won’t go above and beyond for the dates... mistaken.

since he’s apart of the big three and does big three things, he always finds the time to just cuddle you as tight as possible in hope to ease ur mind.

will love you unconditionally

puts your feelings first regardless of what the situation is.

SERO

3 am runs to get food 

staying up to binge shows

the two of you have like an endless ‘prank war’ going on.

so when he runs up to you during lunch you’re like... bolting. i mean like - jumping over tables trying to run away from him.

and of course you’re hysterically laughing.

granted you guys are GREAT but when you guys get into serious shit like, maybe you feel like he doesn’t take certain things serious or maybe he thinks you’re not understanding where he’s coming from, there’s an unspoken rule that the two of you kind of just separate, cool off and come back like nothing happened

if it needs to be talked about it will but if it doesn’t it’s dropped

walks up to you and throws an arm over you whenever he sees you

dance partner for all eternity.

SHINSOU,

y’all are a sarcastic couple

and kind of really come for each other’s neck like with backhanded compliments.

pulling all nights together

sneaking into each other’s dorms to take naps together in order to recover from said all nights

not big in the PDA department but i think he’ll walk next to you and hold some form of conversation. or like look at you from across the room to check on you and if he feels like something is off, he’ll come and hold your hand to make you feel better.

will always look for you first in crowded rooms. even if he knows you won’t be there.

whenever you guys argue, nobody is leaving until it’s resolved. arguing is a drag and he hates arguing with you because it feels like a baby angel just died or smtn.

cuddles involve him sleeping on his stomach and lazily throwing an arm around you

and like.. when he kisses you it’s always like, hand loosely around ur throat? idk don’t ask i just see it

just a laid back boyfriend in general.

if you tell him you don’t like someone, he doesn’t like them either, no questions asked.

you wanna beat someone’s ass? he’s swinging too.

[duckybarnes1917]

hi there! i saw you were looking for some inspiration for bucky fics so here i am! i was wondering a best friends to lovers bucky, where reader always sees bucky close to natasha, thinking they like each other causing the reader to avoid bucky. bucky then confronts her about it!

and i would love to be anon 🧺 if you take anon emoji assigning things hahaha!

Hello dear 🧺 anon! I really hope you like this one, it had me stumped for a bit!

Warnings: none, all fluff with a tiny bit of angst

Note about requests: I don't take nsfw requests from anons or blogs without their age listed.

This is definitely bestfriend!Bucky, yum 🥰

The door slammed behind you, louder than you had intended; your lip was trembling as you tried not to cry. Bucky’s heavy footsteps quickly approached before his fist gently knocked on the door.

“Are you alright, Plum?”

Your tears spilled over at the nickname. This was it; you swore this was your last straw. You had no one to blame but yourself. Being in love with your best friend was the stupidest cliche in the book–you knew better. Especially when all he seemed to talk about lately was your other best friend, Natasha.

“I’m fine! Just got a stomach ache.” You tried your best to sound normal, but you could tell by Bucky’s silence that he wasn’t buying it. “I swear, Buck, I’m just gonna lay down. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, okay. Let me know if you get cold.”

You held your breath as his footsteps retreated and then let out a quiet broken sob. The mission you had been on with Bucky had gone south; you were sore, exhausted, freezing, and trapped in a safe house in the middle of a snowstorm. And on top of all of that, you just had your heart ripped out of your chest. Again—your own fault for listening in on Bucky’s private conversations.

**

“I don’t want to,” Bucky whispered, sounding annoyed.

You peeked around the corner; he was sitting on the couch by the fire while you made dinner from the few scraps you could find in the cabinets. His body language screamed anxiety, which was nothing new, but then you noticed the red tint on his cheeks.

“Don’t, Nat,” Bucky groaned, “she’ll hear me. Don’t make me say it.”

Your ears picked up at that–he didn’t want you to hear. Why?

“Fine, fine!” Bucky glanced around the room nervously and lowered his voice even more. “I–I love you. Are you happy now?”

Bucky’s chuckle slowly faded as your heart pounded and tears sprung to your eyes. You always had a suspicion that they were more than friends, but ‘I love you’? That was beyond what you could handle.

**

The snow picked up outside, the wind rattled your window, and you were absolutely freezing. You stubbornly laid in the nearly bare bed, with one blanket wrapped around your shivering frame. Bucky had tried to check on you, but you didn’t let him in. You shouldn’t be mad at him, a good friend would be happy for him, but the rejection still stung. It had been you who had found him in Romania. You who had pretended that you hadn’t to give him more time to live in secrecy. You who had slowly broken through his hardened shell with nothing more than home-cooked meals and a smile. You were responsible for the social butterfly of man that he had become. When he finally accompanied you to New York, he barely spoke to anyone but you and Steve. And now he was out with Sam most nights and telling Natasha he loved her. And that laugh. A laugh that was once reserved only for you. You hugged yourself tighter and let your tears fall, crying yourself to sleep.

The next several days passed agonizingly slowly. You and Bucky barely spoke; you avoided him as much as possible in the tiny safe house. He tried to talk to you, and you could tell you were hurting him, but the pain was just too raw.

You were standing at the window, a mug of hot tea in your hands as you watched the snow continue to fall.

“It's beautiful, isn’t it?”

You jumped slightly, unaware that Bucky had been standing behind you. “Yeah.”

You tried to move past him to escape, but he caught your arm.

“What’s going on, Plum? You’re killing me, you know that?”

Reluctantly you looked up into Bucky’s eyes, they were shining with unshed tears, and your stomach twisted at the pain you saw there.

“Nothing–”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me it’s nothing! You haven’t spoken to me since we got here. Did I do something? Just tell me, Plum. Please.”

He was basically begging you now, and your own tears started to fall because you had no choice but to tell him the truth.

“It’s Natasha,” you whispered, barely audible.

“Natasha? What happened? She hasn’t said anything–”

“No,” you pushed away from him, sitting on the couch and covering your face with your hands. “I heard you on the phone with her.”

Bucky knelt down in front of you, his hands gently taking yours away from your tear-stained face.

“I heard you say that you love her. It’s none of my business, but–” You couldn’t go on. Not when he was looking at you with so much concern, so much love.

“Plum, look at me.” Bucky gently held your face, stroking his thumb over your tears.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out through your tears. “I’m such a shitty friend.”

“Don’t say that; you’re my best friend, Plum. My absolute favorite person in the whole world. You know that.”

“Bucky–”

“Hold on, just let me say this.” Bucky waited for you to meet his eyes before he continued. “I never thought I would be lucky enough to have a friend like you. You saved me, Plum, and I owe you my life.”

You bit your lip, trying desperately not to start crying again–you knew the ‘but’ was coming.

“What you heard the other day–nosy–that was Natasha trying to help me practice telling you how I feel.” Bucky paused, waiting for your reaction. When none came, he continued. “How I feel about you, Plum. How I’ve wanted to tell you for months now how crazy, head-over-heels in love with you I am.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest again. “What did you just say?”

“Plum,” Bucky chuckled, his eyes crinkling. “I love Nat, yes, in the same way that I love Sam and Steve. But you, I love you more than I ever thought possible. These last few days of you ignoring me have been hell.”

“Are you serious?” You whispered, barely able to form the words.

Bucky’s face was inches from yours now. His soft pink lips almost caressing yours, your fingers running through his hair. How many times had you dreamt about this moment?

“Do you love me too, Plum?” Bucky’s lips just barely brushed yours as he spoke.

All you could do was nod, moving closer to touch his lips, but he pulled back.

“Need you to tell me, Plum. Been dreaming about hearing you say it.”

The tears were back as you caressed his face, pushing his hair out his eyes. “Of course, I love you, Buck–”

The rest of your love confession was cut off as Bucky’s lips crashed into yours. It was better than you imagined. No one had ever kissed you like that–with their whole heart on their sleeve.

“Bucky,” you pushed him back gently, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry–”

Bucky slid you off the couch and into his lap on the floor. “Don’t apologize, Plum. I’m sorry you were so hurt; I feel awful. I should have just told you.”

“It’s not your fault; I could have told you sooner too.” You placed a hand on his broad chest; the smile on your face felt like it would never fade. “I’m just glad we’re here now.”

“It’s always been you,” Bucky pulled your lips back to his, “never anyone but you.”

[pen-observing]

request: how lucifer, mammon, satan, belphegor and diavolo react and find out about you having 'I now own your soul' under the terms and conditions of a webpage.

Lucifer:

While Lucifer is certainly busy all the time, and tries to balance it by having you in his study as he works, he can’t hide how tired he has actually been for the past 4 weeks.

All you know is that Diavolo has made the meetings more frequent and they are taking a toll on him

And since he means that much to you, regardless of if you wish to acknowledge it or not, you have to ask what is going on once he stands up and walks over to reach for another bottle from his shelf Lucifer does not drink that often and he certainly doesn’t try to avoid work by drinking.

Just what could be making him act this way?

“Lucifer, you have to tell me what is going on.”

He stands on his side of the desk just pouring another glass down.

Curse him for being elegant and showing his forearms while doing so!

And then he dares to look at you with full focus and furrowed eyebrows and he is about to say something and he looks like-

‘no. You are human.’

Fuck.

“Come on! You know I won’t tell anyone!”

He does trust you at least after so long.

"Very well. I will tell you since it has something to do with a human. If, by any chance, you spread the information, the price you pay will be a heavy one."

He can’t intimidate you that much but you know when he is serious.

"You see, recently, Diavolo has had more issues than ever with someone we like to call ‘code soul stealer"

“Uhn,, and that is?”

He takes a sip of his drink and holds the glass while looking at you.

“Apparently, a pesky human added ‘I now own your soul’ in their terms and conditions on a web page and some application. With this, they have stolen many souls and Diavolo has grown even more concerned these past few weeks since the page is just gaining popularity.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Thats you that he is calling a pesky human! You only did it as a joke because you saw a meme! It wasn’t supposed to make an enemy out of you to the prince of hell!

How are you supposed to tell Lucifer that? How will he react?

Maybe if you do tell him it will actually create more good than harm?

Or, you could hide it for the rest of your life and- no! The honest way with Lucifer is the best way. He trusts you enough so you have to trust him too!

“Lucifer...I am the pesky human you are referring to...”

He drops the glass. 

“I swear I had no idea souls were actually real and now I own a lot of them! O-On the good side I went viral 4 weeks ago so...oh, that is why you’ve been so busy....sorry.”

Lucifer says nothing.

He just falls into the chair in the most dramatic way you’ve ever seen.

He covers his face with both hands and groans into them loudly.

If you were not ‘code soul stealer’ you would laugh at him right now. But he has to figure out a way to protect you now.

Mammon:

You see, dating Mammon means that you two will bicker plenty.

However, it is usually silly stuff that you bicker about like; are gold or silver lines better on this cup of tea or not?

He just loves you too much to get into a serious argument with you.

However, Levi dragged you both to play a spy/heist game that just came out and Mammon cannot accept to lose such a challenge.

He is not proud that people call him thief, but he is proud and believes he has the skills to back up his many enrichment-plans

So the fact that you won against him for 3 times in a row is UNNACCEPTABLE under this dark, dark sky.

Mammon denies it all. ‘i went easy on you’; ‘I did it cuz you are happy when you win’ and ‘please, don’t you know who I am? I am THE Mammon!”

And while he is cute while bickering, sometimes it becomes unbearable.

So, you do what any normal human would: you challenge him by listing your biggest ‘heist’ ever.

“You don’t know who you are talking to! I have created a heist unlike any other! I have stolen a million souls so far! The DevilTV refers to me as – unstoppable soul collector!”

Levi left long ago so Mammon is standing there completely stunned with the stupidest look on his face so far. He kind of looks like a blowfish.

Still, he runs and puts a hand over your mouth and whispers:

“Don’t yell! We don’t want others to know that we run that business!”

Excuse him? Who is this –we- he speaks of?

“You will add your boyfriend to those plans, won’t you?”

Mammon will not let shock stand in the way of money or souls. You can explain to him how you managed that later but for now – just add him as your accomplice.

Satan:

You love your boyfriend.

You really, really do.

You love seeing him so excited and focused on finding clues to the newest Devildom mystery that you chose to let him have his fun by not telling him YOU were the one he was searching for.

And while you love him that much, you are about to ruin the whole game.

Why does he think it is appropriate to own 48 pairs of the same Sherlock Holmes outfit with THE UGLIEST MATCHING HATS YOU HAVE EVER LAID YOUR EYES ON.

First, he wore them in his ‘detective office’ only. Also known as the Lamentation house storage room for cleaning products. And that was fine, it was.

But then he started to wear them inside the house and in the garden. The saddest day was when a cat knocked the ugly hat off and ran away with it. Oh praise that cat! Praise the little paws!

However, he has gone too far.

He knows no bounds and shows no signs of stopping.

He started wearing the outfits OUTSIDE! In the middle of cobblestone paths of the main street while you were trying to have a nice date!

"Who knows where the soul snatching culprit could be hiding? I must wear this outfit everywhere to catch their clues. Trust me.”

That is it.

If one more iguana-looking-ass demon points their finger at you two and snickers as you walk past – he will have a rude wake up call.

How is it possible that he is trying to catch the culprit that is you but doesn’t pay any attention to you?

So, when you arrive home and he walks into the mop closet to add another unrelated photo to his crazy whiteboard as a clue – you tell him to sit down for a moment.

“Satan, honey, I have something to tell you about your soul snatching culprit.”

That definitely got his attention.

Finally! He is actually looking at you!

You lean down and gently kiss his head.

“I am the culprit you’re looking for. How does it feel to completely miss something right under your nose?”

He freezes up and throws a pen towards the whiteboard. It just bounces off and hits him in the back.

“You....you mean to tell me that,,, the biggest Devil Mystery TV phenomenon is ACTUALLY YOU?”

You are met with complete disbelief. Satan demands a detailed explanation on how you did it. He even tells you to use his whiteboard to retrace your steps!

...good luck...

Belphegor:

Will Belphegor ever actually publicly say that he has changed because of you? No.

Will he ever actually admit that to other brothers besides Beel when they’re talking in the late hours of the night in their room? Oh, absolutely not.

Will he tell you? Yes.

Yes but.. He will leave something out.

Sometimes Belphie looks at how you smile and remembers things that make him famous in this realm.

Yes, he is one of the most powerful demons and yes, he has a reputation of rebellion and the biggest steak of unattendance in RAD but

He is also a fairly famous scholar.

His papers and research are cited on the regular.

But when you smile and say a witty joke – he remembers that most of them focus around him proving just how dumb or naïve humans actually are.

But, you’re human and he hopes that you never see those.

Except that you do.

Because he is so famous it is no surprise that while looking for research papers to reference for your next assignment you saw his name while browsing through

And while you love him - you will not allow him to just diss the whole mankind.

So, you grab one of them from the library. Walk home, go to the attic while he is napping and open it up, putting it right on his face.

It takes a couple of seconds but he feels something is wrong and his hand reaches for it.

When he pulls it away, he is met with his thesis that was further developed from the seduction speech class assignment.

It sets it up as: ‘Seduction speech as a matter of blatant deception that humans always fall for but could never recreate.’

You are not even that mad at it to be honest.

But proving him wrong is always fun. And little does he know about your biggest secret ever.

“I will cut right to the chase and say – fix your bangs I want to see the way your eyes look when I tell you this!”

“I wonder who messed up my bangs with the academic paper in the first place?” is what he replies but his hand is already on his forehead.

“Whatever. Prepare to be amazed! I am the one the elders of the devildom are always ranting about on TV! Yes, I am the ‘pesky little human’ who is stealing away ‘edible’ souls! How is that for your thesis now? Is that not true deception?!”

He likes your smile still. You’re standing in front of the bed looking at him with sparkling eyes and clenched fists while striking a pose. It is silly really but he smiles.

Because you are.

And while he will ask you a bit more about that claim, he is just happy to know that maybe his next academic paper (which everyone eagerly awaits) will be tad more positive to your kind.

Diavolo:

You got an urgent call from Barbatos.

On the doorstep he told you that Diavolo needs you in his study.

What could you do that Barbatos can’t and will help Diavolo? Does such a thing even exist?

You walk inside of his office and are pretty sure Barbatos did not want to go inside because of the fact that a rat could be hiding under the mountain of papers that are all around the room.

Usually, Diavolo immediately stands up, lights up the room with his smile and stretches out his hands for a hug.

Now? He hears the doors open and looks at you with a weak smile while his head is resting on his elbows from behind the desk.

He has never looked worse.

“Barbatos said you called for me?”

You are unsure where to begin with this so you state a fact while thinking of questions to ask.

“He has? I have done no such thing?”

Great. Now both of you are confused.

“Can you tell me what is going on?”

Diavolo sighs and his smile is still nowhere to be seen.

“The elders have been so annoying lately. I understand that the biggest threat to the Devildom and everyone’s life here still has not been identified but there is nothing I can do except search!”

Just what threat is that? What could be making Diavolo so miserable?

“They keep comparing me to my father without actually offering any ways of fixing this!”

“I will try to offer some way if you tell me what the threat is!”

There you are, making a grand exclamation and promise while trying to avoid papers on the floor. Diavolo sighs again.

“A human is ruining our business! They somehow set up a page that allowed them to own souls by consent in some application under the terms and conditions. I mean, this has never happened before! Humans were never expected to think of that or have access to such means! And the name they used was fake. How am I supposed to find them and then burn them in the darkest pits of hell as the elders want me to?”

You stop trying to avoid the papers.

Did...did he just say darkest pits of hell? Did he just say the elders want YOU burned?!

How are you supposed to fix this? It was a fucking joke! You did not imagine this could ever happen!

“Diavolo you promised you would protect me no matter what, right?”

His eyes are serious when you say that. “Yes. I will. Is something amiss?”

“Diavolo.... I am the enemy your elders want to burn.. PLEASE DON’T LET THEM! MY SKIN JUST ADJUSTED TO THIS TEMPERATURE!”

Diavolo looks at you and laughs like never before. It is cute, it is childlike. His laugh finally lights up the room.

He thinks you are joking.

He thinks you are joking and abruptly stops once he realizes that you did not join in on the laugh.

You were just trying to crack a joke and make him feel better, right? There is no way that is true, right? But judging from your reaction he knows it is.

So, he grows serious once more.

He runs to embrace you.

“Please tell me you are willing to make a compromise because the elders do not care about how your skin adjusts to the temperature.”

[clanoffetts]

Care | boba fett x f!reader

ummmmm so this is self indulgent “smut” bc i struggle with penetration sometimes and i wrote this to comfort myself lol. i’ve been sitting on parts of this for awhile and so here it is, unedited 

warnings: NSFW, 18+ (secondary/intermittent) vaginismus; reader feels like shit; mentions of anal; boba has feelings what will he do with them?

“Relax, mesh’la,” Boba murmurs in your ear. He has you reclined against him, between his legs. He’s got one large hand between your legs, the other on your breast and his lips on your neck. One large finger is trying to coax you open as gently as he can, “That’s it,” he praises, the tip of his finger nudging at your opening. “That’s it, princess.”

“Boba,” you whine, trying to focus on the sensation on your nipples and neck to distract from the burning between your legs. 

“I’ve got you,” he says. “I’ve got you, mesh’la, what do you need?”

You shake your head, his thick finger now inside you to the first knuckle. “I-I don’t know.”

“You want my mouth on your clit again? My fingers? I can go find one of those toys you like, if that’s what you need,” Boba says. His voice is so rough and deep in your ear, the perfect juxtaposition to the sweet way he cares for you. 

Finally, the burn of his finger inside you is too much, there’s nothing strong enough to distract you from it anymore. “Boba, stop,” you whisper, pushing at his hand between your legs, “It hurts too much tonight, I’m sorry.”

Boba’s arms wrap around your middle. “Shit, mesh’la, I’m sorry,” he says, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your temple. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything,” you reply. “I’m sorry. I can’t take care of you the way I should-”

“No,” he cuts you off, voice harsh. “Take care of me, mesh’la? You do that every day. I notice when you organize the cabinets and drawers. I know you tell the server droids to serve my favorite foods when I’m feeling ill. You take care of me, mesh’la, don’t doubt that.”

You huff. Just like him to voluntarily miss the whole kriffing point. “That’s not what I meant and you know that,” your voice comes out more whiny and frustrated than you thought possible. “You can’t even fuck me when you want, so what’s the point in keeping me around?”

“Because I care for you,” he says. “And you want a crude answer? Will that help you understand? I’ve been in that pretty cunt a few times, mesh’la, and I love it, I do. But I also love your soft hands, your hot mouth, your thick thighs. And your ass, mesh’la, that pretty kriffing ass, you know you’re almost ready to take my cock there, too? I promise, mesh’la, you take care of me just fine.”

Tears of frustration still well in your eyes. You want to believe him, you do, but you can’t. His words are in one ear and out the other, and before you can catch them, the tears stream down your face. “Boba, just go back to the throne room, ok? Go back to the party and leave me alone.”

“I’m not leaving you on my bed, naked and crying, girl,” he tells you. “I’m not leaving you feeling like shit about yourself when there’s no reason to be.” 

“There is a reason,” you correct, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, for all of this, but I’m ok. You can go back.”

Boba’s fingers come to your cheeks, wiping the tears in tender touches you know are foreign to him. “Maybe there is a reason, but it’s not a good one. And, Maker’s sake, girl, stop apologizing. I’m not going back, I’m staying in here with you.”

“Boba, really-”

“I care about you,” he interrupts, shifting the both of you onto your sides, still holding you tight. “If I was with you for sex, I wouldn’t care about you like this.”

It makes sense. If he was with you for penetrative sex you were hardly even having, then he would be the stupidest man in the galaxy. You relax, finally, your eyes drying slightly. You feel Boba’s gaze on you. 

His heart wrenches as he watches the last tears make their way down your cheeks, onto the silk pillow case he’d bought you. He’d never tell you he’d bought it because he heard you complain to a friend about your skin breaking out, and how he’d read on the Net about how silk could help. He knows you notice the little things he does, and he knows, deep down, that they don’t mean as much to you as they do to him. Looking at you, feeling so broken next to him, he replays your happy ‘I love yous’ to him.  It’s nothing new, you’ve told him you loved him many times before and you’ve told him you don’t expect a response, and yet he’s never told you to stop. 

“Mesh’la, I…” he stops for a moment. You feel him take a deep breath and sigh. “Mesh’la, I love you.” 

“Boba, if you’re saying that to make me feel better because I can’t take a finger in my pus-”

“Will you listen to me?” He cuts you off. “Do you think I don’t care for- love you? Am I that awful at showing it?”

“Kind of.”

“I know,” he chuckles to himself. “I’m shit at showing it, and I’m sorry. But I can tell you right now, this isn’t going to make me stop.” All you do is hum. He’s crushed all over again, is this what you felt everytime he ignored an ‘I love you’? “Try to relax and rest, mesh’la,” he says, his voice just barely masking his hurt. “We can talk when you wake, if you’d like.”

[sevlgi]

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot​‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had  to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college. 

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you.  “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally. 

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde  girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her. 

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

[rsitb-second-account]

Borrower Intruloceit

Janus, Remus and Logan were (very happily) in a polyamorous relationship. However, to most of the world, Janus and Remus were just a couple. You see, Logan was a borrower; a tiny person that lives in the walls of human houses and steals from those humans in order to survive. And, he’s a secret. 

Here’s three close calls and the one time everyone found out about Logan.

1. The time Remus’ brother showed up unannounced

Logan was sitting on the arm of the couch, having a movie date with his boyfriends, when the door slammed open. He quickly gestured to Janus’ pocket, hoping he would understand. Luckily, he nodded and quickly scooped up the borrower and deposited him in the fairly large (to Logan at least) pocket.

“good evening, Roman. Is there a reason you showed up unannounced, or did you just want to ruin our date?” Janus spoke coldly

“oh- I- uh.. I didn’t know you two had a date tonight..” Roman rubbed his neck sheepishly

“us three” Logan corrected under his breath, shifting his position slightly. Unfortunately, Roman seemed to notice the movement from the pocket. 

“What’s in your pocket?” He asked hesitantly

Logan stilled and held his breath as Janus answered “why do you want to know?” 

Remus was staying silent, not trusting himself to not accidentally let something slip.

“I want to know beca-” he was cut off by Remus

“why are you here Roman?”

That quickly distracted the human “oh! I was just-” he explained why he was there, Logan still forcing himself to be still.

Once the dramatic man had left, the borrower let out an annoyed sigh “you really need to take away his key, so he can’t do this again. It is rather annoying to have to hide every two seconds that Roman shows up unexpectedly”

Remus giggled “and what would we tell him? ‘oh yeah our secret tiny boyfriend doesn’t like it when you burst in randomly so we’re gonna take your key’ I don’t think that would work very well, tiny nerd”

2. Janus’ brother shows up slightly less unannounced than Roman

Janus, Remus and Logan were watching random Youtube videos, with Logan sat on Remus’ shoulder. They heard the door open at the same time as Janus got a text message from his brother, Virgil

Was on a walk and saw your house. Am now in your house :)

Luckily, there was an entrance to the walls right next to where they were sat and Logan practically ran into it, the entrance closing just as Virgil entered the room.

“Virgil, do you have a reason to be here other than being an annoyance?” Janus raised an eyebrow at his younger sibling

“Nope!” Virgil replied with fake cheerfulness, before sitting cross-legged on the floor staring at the other humans. Remus just stared back, but with a slightly more eerie tone to his actions. 

Janus just sighed at his boyfriend and his brother. He had no doubt that Logan was watching with an annoyed face that he would deny ever making. Almost everything they tried to do together was interrupted by someone bursting in uninvited, and it was getting tiresome. He heard a faint noise from the walls and by the looks of it Virgil and Remus heard it too.

Logan had gotten into a fight with a (luckily non-venomous) spider, and had just killed it, when he tripped. The impact made him hiss with pain and, unfortunately, made a semi-loud sound on its own. “... what was that?” He heard Virgil ask

Janus and Remus looked at each other for a split second, before Janus shrugged and said that it was probably nothing

“Anyway, emo, if you’re scared and you didnt come here for a reason, you can leave” Remus said, slightly too bluntly.

Virgil, thankfully for Logan, did in fact leave. It was at exactly that moment that the borrower decided that Virgil was better (if only slightly) than Roman

3. The time with Patton

Logan was wandering around the house (its his house and he can do that now that the humans knew about him) when a knock at the door sounded. Suddenly really glad that he stayed near the walls on his walk, he rushed into the closest entrance. 

He knew that this would be Patton (he was the only person who ever bothered to knock) but he still couldn’t decide whether this particular human was as good as Virgil or not. He was better than Roman, not as loud (though still pretty loud), and not as keen on staying somewhere that he didn’t own. However, he wasn’t as quiet as Virgil, and had accidentally hurt his ears quite a few times, but at least he knocked instead of bursting in randomly with little to no warning.

He watched from a vent as Remus opened the door

“Heya Remus! Can i come in?” Patton greeted with obviously fake happiness and Logan could see a smile that seemed just a little too forced

“of course, do you want to sit down? I’ll go get Janus” Remus genuinely had no clue what to do, but Janus was slightly better at comforting people. Logan was better at it as well, because he’d bring up facts about why you’re good, but it wasn’t like Logan could comfort Patton..

Janus quickly rushed to the living room, where his best friend was obviously trying to hold back tears. 

Logan watched Patton rant about both everything and nothing at the same time, obviously just needing someone to talk to. As much as he hated to admit it, he was still annoyed at the interruption that had forced him into the walls. He couldn’t control what annoyed him, and that in itself was an annoyance. He wanted to sympathise with the human, but did he have to show up right as Logan was finally relaxing? He decided to just randomly do things on the phone his boyfriends had given him. It had been hard to drag to his house in the walls but it made it easier to not get bored and to contact the two humans

4. When everyone (finally) finds out

Logan had had enough. The three humans that didn’t live in the house had all shown up unexpectedly, together. Whilst Logan, Remus and Janus were trying to finally have uninterrupted time together. Of course that’s when they show up Logan thought bitterly. They had showed up for, as they put it, a ‘surprise sleepover’

He glanced at his phone leaning on the wall next to his bed and a thought popped into his head. The humans were bound to find out anyway, if they were to keep bursting in unexpectedly, so why not just tell them?

Logan unlocked his phone, opening Whatsapp and typing out a message

‘tel VIrgl patan and romun to stay were they are. im reveeling mysellf to them. im going throo the enterance on the bukshelf. see yoo soon’

He probably spelt most of it wrong, but he hadn’t exactly gotten taught spelling. All he was taught in regards to reading, was just barely enough to figure out what he was taking and if it was dangerous or not. And he was making a life-changing decision, so he thought that meant he could make as many spelling mistakes as he did, and play it off to nervousness.

Janus and Remus both looked at their phones and paled. What was Logan thinking?! It seemed that the other humans had noticed their uneasiness “what’s wrong? What’s on your phones that is making you react like this??” Virgil asked, worry lacing his tone

“Don’t worry, Vee. It’s nothing bad, it’s just.. unexpected. ...You’ll see, just stay there” Janus soothed his brother

“you two stay there as well” Remus added , getting up and walking towards the bookshelf, Janus soon joining him. They looked at where they knew the entrance was, waiting for it to open.

Roman piped up “uh, care to tell us what is going on?”

“we will, but not yet. We need to wait” 

“well, that was ominous..” Virgil commented, seeming slightly nervous

Then, the entrance opened and Logan walked out glaring softly at the shocked humans

“uh, Remus, what the fuck is that?!” Roman practically shouted, reminding Logan just why he was on the bottom of his list of favourites. 

“He is our boyfriend, and I expect you to treat him with respect” Janus said, his voice venomous. Remus held out a hand for Logan to climb onto, which the borrower did, still glaring at the other humans (mostly Roman). 

“Salutations. I am Logan, do not introduce yourselves, I already know who you are” He spoke before muttering an “unfortunately”

Remus, being the only person close enough to hear the mutter, let out a chuckle “Lo, if you revealed yourself just to complain about them to their faces, this will be hilarious”

The three humans were staring in shock, until Roman snapped out of it “Wait- why would he be complaining? I don’t know about those two, but I am positively amazing!” 

Logan scoffed “yeah, amazing. You’re too loud, burst in randomly, and it’s always for the stupidest reasons. You have hurt my ears far too many times to count, and almost every time me, Janus and Remus try to do something together, you show up, and I have to hide or go back to the walls. So, yeah, amazing” He spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

He turned to the other two “you two aren’t as bad, but you still manage to show up at some of the worst possible times. Patton, you are quite loud, but not as loud as Roman, so that makes you slightly better. Also, you don’t burst in, and you knock so that’s something good. Virgil, you’re not as loud as these two, which is good, and you always send a text message when you show up, so I have at least a little bit of warning before going into the walls, so you’re both better than Roman” not that that’s saying much he added mentally.

-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-/\-

I kinda wanna write a prequel about how Logan, Remus and Janus met..

Tag list: @icantthinkofacreativeurl @vann-cat @moonfrost-star-comics

[aminiatureworld]

A Sea of Fragments II

Part I here

Word Count: 2,516

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Second chapter here we go! I’ve been very excited to continue this series, and I hope you find it as fun to read as it was to write. I already have mapped out a plan for where the story is going, though I’m not sure how many chapters it will take. We’ll see how it goes!

Dear Signora,

I am happy to inform you that the task you sent me has been completed. The fortune teller, though they still refuse to reveal their name, appears to be somewhat legitimate. I’m not sure what you’re going to do with this information, but I hope you’re prepared for a difficult time, as…

 Scaramouche sighed, putting his pen down, although not after scribbling haphazardly on the paper in front of him. It had been two weeks since he’d first recruited the mysterious clairvoyant, and altogether nothing of consequence had happened. Not for lack of trying, of course; the Harbinger had taken to banging on the door of an inn almost every day, demanding that the unwilling coworker inside come out and do something. Honestly Scaramouche was surprised he hadn’t been asked to vacate the premises at this point, though of course that wouldn’t’ve stopped him. Still it was becoming a tiring ritual, and though Scaramouche himself wasn’t entirely sure what he’d meant when he suggested you work with him, he was certain this wasn’t it. Something had to happen, and soon. If not, well the Harbinger wasn’t above kidnapping unwilling colleagues; regardless of their threats to burn down his living space.

“At the very least I’m getting them out of that damned inn.” Scaramouche muttered to himself, for the time wasted was appalling, the inn being located not in your own village, the closest villager to the camp, but in one farther away. Standing up, crumpling the unfinished letter in his hands and throwing it into the trash, Scaramouche walked out of his tent and towards the now all too familiar road. He wasn’t doing this anymore.

Walking along the road, unfortunately there were no waypoints in villages this small, Scaramouche thought over the whole matter once more. He’d not expected you to agree to his offer of working with him, especially not after supposedly reading his future. Nor had he expected to truly believe you. And yet something about your demeanor had certainly changed since you’d looked into his future, accepting his proposal aside. Scaramouche wasn’t one to pry about such things, he didn’t really care what you saw in his future, especially after your revelation that doing so wasn’t an exact science. He had to admit though that the longer this went on the more he wondered what exactly you had seen. What had you seen to make you agree to his proposal, then refuse to even open your door to him? Or had you simply said yes on a whim and were now regretting your decision?

It was baffling to Scaramouche, and what he didn’t know or understand irritated him. He was a harbinger, and though you might’ve been blessed by the gods or some such thing, you’d still agreed to work with him. He’d see this through, if it was the last thing he did.

 The inn was just as rundown as it had been the day before, and Scaramouche’s feet dragged as he made his way up the stairs towards the offending door. Knocking as softly as he could, not wanting to bother the other rooms and get kicked out, he called out. “It’s time for you to get to work. You’ve had two weeks to recover from whatever shock you’d had in the woods, and now you must uphold your promise.”

 You stared at the door, still lying on the bed, the place where you’d spent most of your time recently. This routine had played out for two weeks, and you were becoming tired of it. Honestly, couldn’t the idiot realize when he wasn’t wanted? You thought that you’d made it clear enough.

Ignoring the banging for a moment you stared up at the ceiling. Two weeks, for two weeks you’d agonized over what you’d seen. What you’d expected to be dulled by time still came as a shock, and if you closed your eyes the image of you smiling at the Harbinger danced around in front of you. You didn’t regret your decision to work with Scaramouche, the determination for a better future still lay firmly in your heart; but you hadn’t realized how much personal agony it would cost. Certainly your now conflicting feelings weren’t helping, as you couldn’t help but wonder if your sudden awareness of the person now knocking on your door was caused by anything genuine, or simply by what you saw might come to pass.

The knocking was louder now, and you groaned, dragging yourself out of bed, thankful that you’d at least had the sense to have changed out of your pajamas. You were going to answer him today. It was what you’d been telling yourself all morning. You couldn’t live at this inn forever, the bill was beginning to rack up terribly. And, conflicting feelings or not, you weren’t about to steal away in the middle of the night. That would be perhaps the stupidest move one could make when dealing with a Fatui harbinger to whom one had made a promise.

 Scaramouche let out a huff of surprise and relief as the door suddenly began to make way. This was some progress. Usually your early morning conversation was shouted through the closed door. Although you barely appeared from behind the door at first Scaramouche could see the improvement in your health. At least now you didn’t look to be constantly seconds away from once more passing out. As if reading these less than generous thoughts you scowled. Looking around, as if making sure there was no one around, you grabbed Scaramouche by the wrist and dragged him into the room, closing the door with a firm click behind you.

Though the inn was certainly bedraggled, the room you were housed in seemed nice enough. The furniture was sparse, only a bed, a small table, a chair, and a pair of sad looking dressers. Sitting down cross legged on the bed you pointed towards the chair. Smirking, Scaramouche sat down.

“Are we not talking today?” He asked snidely.

“Nice to know your personality hasn’t improved.” You shot back.

“Maybe I’d be a bit more amenable if you had left this room at all in the past two weeks. Do you even eat?”

“Thank you for so graciously caring for my wellbeing, but I’m doing just fine, thank you.”

“We had an agreement.”

“I know.”

“Then why won’t you hold to it?” Scaramouche narrowed his eyes, his temper wearing increasingly thin. He didn’t like yelling, found it beneath him; yet right now he wanted nothing more than to find some secluded area and scream. Letting out a hiss of a breath he shook his head. “Why did you let me in if you won’t even look at me?”

As if on cue your head snapped forwards. Although it seemed as if you were about to say something your expression quickly shifted into something unreadable. You said nothing, simply staring at him, that odd, opaque expression leading him to silence as well. The transformation was so sudden that it managed to throw the Harbinger completely off guard, and he found himself scrutinizing you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking of.

As you continued to stare at him Scaramouche realized that he was losing time. Shaking his head slightly, he spoke again.

“I want you to move into the camp.”

“Over my dead body.” You replied venomously, the spell obviously broken. “I refuse to live surrounded by members of the Fatui.”

“Well then where are you going to live, you can’t stay here forever.”

“I’ll… figure something out.”

“I’m offering you a solution to your housing problem. You can even live on the edge of the camp; but I refuse to continue this song and dance of walking six miles just to get you up. Consider it part of your work benefits.”

“What a lovely benefit, being housed against your will.”

“You made it perfectly clear you have nowhere else to go. You abandoned your village, you’ve holed yourself up in a random inn, you made a promise, an agreement, to work for me. Have you forgotten that?”

“Of course I haven’t!” You snapped, once more tilting your head towards the wall. “How could I forget after what…” You trailed off.

“After what?” Scaramouche pressed, but you shook your head, merely glancing at him once more.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does if it’s affecting our bargain. Something must’ve happened. You’ve been acting, strangely.”

“How would you know how I act?” You scoffed. “Anyways, my behavior is none of your business. I promised to work with you, and I will, if only to stop this stupid conversation. But I won’t move in with the Fatui. They’re the worst sort of organization. Besides,” you added, voice lowering slightly. “I’m not comfortable staying in unfamiliar places.”

There was a pause in the conversation, as Scaramouche wracked his brain. He needed to get this to work. He couldn’t stand this; no matter what, he’d make sure this conversation didn’t drag on any longer.

“Fine then,” Scaramouche finally sighed, “let’s make a deal.”

“We seem to be making an awful lot of those.”

“It’s the only way apparently to get you to do anything. Here’s the deal. I arrange it so you’re allowed to use your own furniture and belongings in your tent. You can use one of the extra harbinger tents, they should be big enough for that. If I promise to do so, will you promise to move out?”

“I’m not letting random Fatui members sack my house, not even on your orders.”

“Then do it with the. I’ll just send some men to carry the heavier furniture, you can handle the rest. Agreed?”

You paused, staring at him, expression much more readable this time, being one of distrust. Still, eventually you nodded your head and Scaramouche finally began to feel some sort of relief.

“Good. Now pack whatever you have. Thankfully it’s early enough to have this finished today.”

And with that he stood up, not bothering to look behind at you as he walked across the room and out the door.

 --------- 

Scaramouche entered the tent, nearly running into you in the process. You glanced back at him, letting out a quick “sorry”, before scurrying over towards your cot – your bed had ended up being too bulky to move.

“I see you’ve finished.” Scaramouche spoke up, feeling slightly awkward, not sure how to converse with you in a way that wasn’t arguing. Luckily you didn’t seem to notice, nodding enthusiastically.

“It’s so odd to seem my dresser on the grass floor.” You giggled softly.

The Harbinger stared for a moment, realizing that this was the first time he’d seen a genuine smile out of you. It was almost transformative, and for a moment he found himself forgetting all the haggling it took for you to get here. Walking towards you, slightly unaware of what he was doing, he stopped a few inches away from you. You seemed caught unaware, and as you stared at him your smile slowly faded, instead replaced once more by that odd expression you carried when you look at him. This time you seemed a bit more agitated however, and instead of lingering you shook your head slightly, walking sideways towards the dresser you’d just mentioned. Suddenly aware of himself Scaramouche mimicked the gesture, stepping back towards the tent opening.

“Well,” he said, voice stilted, “I’m glad that we’ve finally resolved this. I’ll let them send dinner to your tent tonight, though I expect you to eat with everyone else afterwards. I’ll see how you are later.” And, not wanting to start another argument and still trying to process what had just happened, Scaramouche marched out of the tent.

The late afternoon air was finally beginning to cool down, and Scaramouche took in several deep breaths. Not wanting to deal with the presence of various underlings he made his way out of the camp and towards the woods, the woods in which, about five miles away from here, he’d met you for the first time. Now, leaning against a tree, he thought back on that night, on everything that had happened since then. Mostly he thought about the odd experience in the tent.

Scaramouche hadn’t really meant to walk up to you, he found being the proximity of people odious most of the time. The action was completely instinctive, devoid of any motive to intimidate or to scare. It was just, it was just the fact that he’d liked your smile, it had drawn him in, literally, apparently. As had your expression, what was that expression? He wanted to ask about it again, wanted to know what was going on. This whole experience was alien to Scaramouche, your interactions all the more so. A normal underling would’ve never talked back, would’ve never forced concessions out of him. And yet that wasn’t the only abnormal thing. A normal underling would’ve never been so important, and, more importantly, would’ve never drawn such a strange reaction out of him. A reaction he was still feeling the effects of.

It wasn’t simply walking up to you, no, nothing was that simple. It was how he’d felt, the way he didn’t mind being that close, wanted it even. The way a part of him was somewhat disappointed when you – rightfully – drew away. Even now he still felt those lingering feelings, that alien want to be closer to someone, to learn about them, to… what? That was the beginning and the end of it, wasn’t it? He wanted something, and he didn’t even know what that something was. Information he supposed. It was always that in the end; something that he could use, a bargaining chip. Maybe he just was getting tired of these concessions.

 It was dark by the time Scaramouche returned to your tent. You were slouched forward on your cot, a book held up to your face, your attention utterly captivated. Looking up at the shuffling of feet you saw the Harbinger staring at you, as opaque as before. Although your initial instinct was once more to look away you instead met his gaze, letting out the faintest crack of a smile.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“It was nothing. If you’re going to be my clairvoyant assistant, well, this was for the best.”

Your whispered something and Scaramouche leaned forward.

“What?”

You repeated the word again and the Harbinger’s brow furrowed.

“What does that name have to do with anything?”

“It’s mine, idiot.”

“You could’ve just said that.” Scaramouche scoffed, glancing away. “Thank you.”

“It’s my thanks, for doing this for me.”

“I see.” Scaramouche stood there silent for a moment. Eventually he looked around and nodded. “All seems to be in order. I hope you’re an early riser, tomorrow we’ll get to work. So make sure to sleep. I…” he began to turn towards the tent opening. “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Good. Go to sleep.”

The sound of your name whispered into the night by him was something that would keep you up for a while longer.