#i heard his voice and audibly squeaked goodbye

[half-dead-writer]

Shopping List

Reader has to buy the groceries, meets the hottest cashier, panics, goes there again, antics ensue.

⸸ Mello / Mihael Keehl (Death Note) ⸸ ~3,4k words ⸸ gender neutral reader

planning to make a sequel where they actually do some proper bonding stuff so treat it as a first chapter I guess? mayhaps even an official Mello x Matt x Reader route but as a separate thing since I know not everyone is into that and I want my fics to be enjoyable for everyone :] Inspired by my usual routine of going to the store while the scorching sun consumes my entire being + one time where my edrink hit the ground and I had to shotgun the remains of it (crossposted from AO3)

Today's weather could only be comparable to Hell. I felt the uncomfortable sweat running through my body. I wanted to get back to my flat as soon as possible and just melt on the couch while being blasted by a fan. But I had to buy a few necessities from the corner store nearby before that. Even though it was a five minute walk from where I lived, I haven't been there before. I heard the store had more expensive items than the one that's further away, but I didn't have enough strength to make that long walk in the sun. My wallet will feel the effects of it in the nearest days, but I'm willing to make the sacrifice this time.

To my relief, I felt the cold air wash over my skin, giving it a bit of pleasant relief. The fridges were just at the entrance, which gave a nice contrast to the killing warmth outside. The layout of the store didn't differ much from the usual stores I've been to, so I didn't have any troubles looking through the aisles for my desired items. I approached the Monster stand and took a few of the energy drinks into my hands. I didn't bother to take my bag this time, it was supposed to be a quick trip. I didn't have much choice, so I grabbed the cheapest thing i could find that my taste buds could tolerate and headed to the cashier. I didn't pay attention to the person standing behind the cash register as I put the groceries on the counter, with my sight focused on the ridiculously priced candy bar that's been placed nearby, enticing the customers to spend even more money on their way out. I considered it, but I don't think my today's budget could take it. The bored cashier told me the estimated price in a dull, clearly done-with-it tone. He was probably just waiting for his shift to be over, can't blame him. I was surprised, though not about the amount I was due to pay for my things, but rather by his appearance.

He had blond hair, the length was touching the tips of his shoulders. It was an unusual sight around here, and if I hadn't heard his voice before looking at him, I would assume he was a girl. But upon closer inspection, the features on his face were surely masculine. The top he wore was short-sleeved, typical store-required uniform, which didn't stick out from the norm. I also noticed a black polish that coated his nails. It looked carefully applied, which made me curious if he painted them himself. I guessed the boy's age to be around mine, which made me become slightly alerted.

My usual formula of interacting with people was saying a polite "hi", thanking for the service and leaving the store, but the lack of age gap made me feel as if, somehow, that wouldn't be appropriate. I silently hoped he didn't notice my lack of movement for a second as I passed him the requested cash. I could only assume his expression during the transaction remained the same, the idea of him perceiving me as a staring weirdo was too overwhelming for me to keep a steady eye-contact. The small lump in my throat prevented me from speaking clearly, but after gathering the groceries into my hands, I managed to squeak out a barely audible "Uh, thanks- goodbye" on my way out. I didn't dare to look back.

The outside was still a cooking oven, but my mind was too occupied by the memory of an encounter that happened a moment ago. It took me a while to register that my legs were dragging me with a faster pace to my home due to the thoughts replaying in a torturous loop. I shouldn't care that much about an awkward encounter with a stranger that I'm unlikely to see often. I felt the warm air wash thru my lungs as I took a deep breath and reminded myself that a silly moment is not a thing to stress over. I bet in his time of working there he saw plenty of worse people than an embarrassing person whom he only seen once. I reached my hand inside the pocket, finding my keys after a brief moment of searching and unlocked the door to my apartment. The familiar smell of the house brought me some comfort as I headed to get some water. My mouth felt incredibly dry, and I could only guess whether it was from the encounter or the weather. Probably both.

I heard the tap water is bad for you, but at that moment the liquid that spilled on my tongue tasted like a gift sent from gods. I sat on the couch after properly hydrating myself and now, with a clear head, I could see that my anxiety definitely flared up much more than usual. At least in comparison to a reaction I'd have with a regular screw up of mine. In hindsight, it was easy to see that I panicked just because I found the person on the other side attractive. That realization made me feel a bit silly. It had been some time since I found someone to pine over, and of course it had to be a random, fruity boy from the store with the most expensive items. Not that my confidence would allow for this thought up relationship in my mind to happen in real life, but I wanted to at least get to know him. He seemed like an interesting person, with all that he had going on, appearance-wise.

Few days have passed until I had to go get my groceries again. I knew buying stuff at the "boujee shop" was a bad idea, but the thought of going there again and making things right by at least saying a proper "hello, thank you, goodbye" was convincing enough for me to give in. My plan wasn't to buy a lot, maybe an energy drink or two, and get the rest by going to a different store. This solution had more extra steps than my usual shopping trip, but I was willing to do it. Nobody besides me knew that it was only because I wanted to see the mysterious boy, so what's the harm?

The sun wasn't as vicious today, which resulted in a pretty pleasant walk. A light breeze going thru my hair was a nice touch to the summery vibe, and it even added a bit of confidence to my stroll. I was going to nail it this time. Properly talking to another human being might not be a great achievement to some, but it mattered to me, and I tried to hype myself up. I mentally prepared for the interaction while I picked the can from the energy drink stand. I had some saved up money, so I was able to pick my desired choice of flavor and brand, not the knock off I had picked on my previous visit here. I smoothly moved to the end of the store, only to find that the boy I was hoping to see was not there. I was slightly disappointed, but at least there was no pressure for me to perform well, which made me calm down almost completely.

The person standing near the cash register was another male. The outfit he wore didn't differ from the one I already seen, but the fluffy, red-colored mess on his head was a far cry from the well-maintained hair of the previous cashier. It took him a minute to notice me approaching, as his sight was focused on reading some pamphlet promoting new brand of e-cigarettes. I wondered whether he read it out of boredom or genuine interest in the product, but my bet would be on the former. He put it down as soon as he noticed me in the corner of his eye, although there was no hurry in his movements. I put the cans on the counter and smoothly hit him with the casual "hi".

"Hey," he responded, his voice warm and friendly. I heard the familiar "beep" of the product being scanned and prepared my wallet. Everything seemed to be going accordingly, until I heard him give me another comment "You know those give you kidney stones, right?" I stopped in my tracks for a second, uncertain what to respond, until I noticed a small smirk forming on his face.

"Kidding. I mean, not that it's not true, but so far I managed to avoid them," he added, seeing my face turn from a deer in the headlights to a look of realization.

"Yeah, uh, me too, thankfully" I replied, trying to reciprocate the playful remark as I felt the corners of my mouth twist in a polite grin. What a way to start the conversation.

"I like this flavor too. But I prefer the less sweet ones," he continued to judge the choice of my item, although not in bad faith. He was chatty, but it was actually quite a nice experience, one which I didn't expect to have today, but I didn't complain. His whole person radiated a calming aura which made me forget of the discomfort of talking to strangers all-together. It was as if I knew this man my whole life, even if all I did was exchange a few words with him. I will never understand how people possess such power, but I'm forever grateful it exists.

"Yeah, that's fair. It's hard to even enjoy the taste in some of them, as if someone just poured up a whole bag of sugar," I may have over exaggerated a bit, but I assumed he knew that. I got a chuckle and an understanding "yeah" in response.

With how much I enjoyed the conversation, I completely forget I was in the process of taking out the money of my wallet, just holding it in my hands this whole time. Guess I can't escape even a tiny bit of cringe for today. I quickly pulled out the cash. "Hey, no rush," he said, "there's no other clients in the store, you can take your time". I still felt silly, but with his chill demeanor the repercussions of my actions didn't sting as much.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking my well-deserved smoke break," he got out from behind the counter and passed me by, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket on his way. I smiled to myself and grabbed my item, ready to head out as well.

While I was going through the aisles I entertained the thought that today could be different, but it turned out really well. I didn't have a panic attack from a simple interaction, I did what I planned to do, and I wasn't even that awkward. My mind was completely clear as I left the store, correctly assuming to see the red-haired cashier smoking nearby. I felt my stomach drop as I noticed someone else standing beside him. It was the blond boy. His casual ("casual" would be an understatement), off-work clothes were a drastic change from the outfit that his, what I assumed, friend wore. He now sported a leather vest that uncovered a bit of his stomach, black leather pants and a fancy rosary that adorned his neck. Wow. This boy has some guts to not be afraid strutting around in such. Which was in no way a bad thing, but it surely made keeping my composure a bit harder. Seeing that they were occupied by each other, I was seconds from quietly making my leave with the tail tucked between my legs, not prepared at all for this sight, until I heard a loud bang on the ground, followed by a faint "fisss". It took me a second to process what happened. My can. My energy drink slipped out of my sweaty palm and hit a tiny, pointy rock on the pavement, inevitably leaving a small hole from which the sweet juice began quickly pouring out.

"Fuck!"

My yelling surely got their attention now. Even though my mind was occupied with being upset, I managed to catch a glimpse of their reactions. The red haired boy winced at the sound, while the blonde exhaled thru his nose with either disappointment or amusement. I couldn't tell due to the fizzling sound of the raging can which was slowly beginning to calm down. Even though the sticky liquid on my hand made me feel gross, I picked it up. Thankfully the hole was near the top of the can so I saved most of the drink left. I hated the sudden spotlight, but by some miracle I managed to not completely freak out. I think I completely zoned out due to the intensity of the emotions. I was not about to cry, I was not about to scream (again). Not in public. Peace. Think about the consequences of your actions. I took a deep breath, ignoring both of the boys' stare for my own sanity. A minute has surely passed until I managed to show any sign of life. I don't usually smoke, but at that time I felt like I really needed one. My eyes fixated on the cigarette the nice cashier held in his mouth. Curiosity flashed in their eyes as I approached them. I cleared my throat.

"...Could I borrow a cigarette?" I asked, avoiding the eyes of the blonde. He was mostly staring at my hand which holding the nefarious drink. I decided to ignore him, I couldn't handle more stress right now.

"Yeah, sure," he reached for the pack, opening it in a way so that one of them was poking out. I took it.

"Uh, lighter?"

I lit up the cigarette with one hand after he passed me his zippo lighter. The somewhat familiar smoke buried deep in my lungs, making me cough a little. I didn't care, although my sight was proactively focused on the ground to avoid their eyes. I didn't know whether to stay with them until I finished the cigarette or smoke it on my way back, but the red-haired boy spoke again,

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Y/N," I said.

"I could smuggle you another can from the shop if you want," his eyes looked at my drink, I was positively surprised at his kind offer, but I felt like I overused his hospitality enough while asking for the cigarette.

"Oh, thank you, but I don't think that'll be necessary-" I offered him a genuine smile, "there's still a lot left, so I think I'll manage."

The boy nodded briefly after looking at the can, "I'm Mail by the way," the smoke found a way out of his lips after he took a long drag. "But Matt is fine as well," he added.

I reciprocated the nod and finally decided to take a brief glance at the boy standing near him. Instead of smoking, his resting bitch face was munching on the overpriced chocolate from the store, I now noticed.

"And that's Mihael. Mello. Mels," I assumed he said the last part in a playful tone, shooting a teasing smile his way.

I cleared my throat from the smallest remains of my anxiety towards him, "Uh, hi."

"Hey," he responded mildly, in-between of biting a part out of the chocolate. I don't think I ever seen anyone else eat chocolate that way.

"I like your clothes," I fixed my eyes on his outfit, I hoped to score some points with him, but also to properly express my honest opinion.

His eyes showed uncertainty for a moment, probably unsure if I was being genuine with my compliment, but he decided to nod and quietly hum in response. His expression didn't change. I didn't overthink it for my sake, hopefully he's like that with everyone.

"Really? He looks like a leather couch" Matt added, being met with Mello's eyes staring daggers at him, but I sensed it wasn't serious.

"Says a dude who wears goggles inside and outside," Mello barked back in retaliation.

"Not right now, I don't," Matt stuck out his tongue and Mello's expression finally showed a hint of amusement while his eyes rolled.

"Besides, I actually wear them for a reason," Matt explained, or rather bit back at Mello again, "unlike you, show-dog."

"My reason is that I look presentable," he flaunted with exaggeration, swinging the chocolate in his grip slightly, "unlike your week-old, sweaty, striped sweater."

"Last time I checked, people wearing leather sweat too," another jab from Matt, "and again, do you see me wearing my sweater right now?"

Mello just sighed in response, probably tired of this silly conversation at this point. It was amusing to hear them bicker, even if I felt a bit like a third-wheel. My cigarette shortened significantly, I already smoked the bigger half of it. Even though this interaction brought me lots of stress initially, I was actually glad I ended up being included in their conversation, even as a listener. My plan was to get to know Mihael anyway, and I succeeded in at least exchanging a few words with him. Matt stepped on the butt of his cigarette after it fell on the ground when he was done with it. I promptly did the same.

"Only one more hour of my shift left," Matt sighed, unhappy about being forced back behind the cash register again, "at least the day ain't as busy today."

"Sorry for, uh, making your life worse, I suppose?" you joked, which made him chuckle.

"Nah, you didn't. You dropping your drink and yelling fuck!" he mocked your voice, "was probably the most interesting thing that happened this work-day."

I grinned bashfully at his remark but accepted the compliment. I heard the crinkling of the wrapper as Mello finished his snack and threw it in the nearby trash. Except he didn't, as it hit the corner of the open trash can and swiftly fell on the ground. He grunted with annoyance and just looked at it, not bothering to get it again.

"It's not nice to litter in front of the store worker, Mello" Matt chimed in, obviously provoking a reaction from the other boy.

"I work here too, idiot," he bent to pick it up, "next time I'll throw it at you."

"Sure you will," Matt said with confidence, looking at the wrapper being properly disposed of now.

"Or, let me reiterate, I'll throw you out. Of the house." Mello threatened.

"Don't forget to leave me a pillow to sleep on while I'll be camping by the doors," Matt said while turning to head back to the store, loud enough for the both of us to hear.

I looked at Mello with a trace of smile on my face as Matt disappeared behind the store's doors, hopefully it made me seem friendlier than usual. "I'll be going too- I can't wait to finally wash my hand," I looked at the can in my grip, I did a good job of ignoring it the entirety of the conversation, but now that it was over, it seriously bugged me.

"Uhuh," he raised his brow slightly, almost as if I held toxic waste in my hand.

"So, um, bye," I said clearly, offering a polite smile. He finally showed me an ounce of expression on his face, his lips contorting into an amused smirk, which dumbfounded me. I tested my luck by asking, "what's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," he relaxed, but I noticed a glint in his eye as he spoke, "just thought you weren't able to say goodbye properly, judging by the last time you tried."

I didn't know how to react, so I just chuckled like a moron, "I- I'll make sure to do that next time." I felt like a dog who was caught trying to steal food from its owner. He did notice my weird behavior back then.

"I'd say making sure to bring a bag next time you go shopping would benefit you more," he continued to torture me with his remarks.

"Yes, alright, I get it," I defended myself, although it wasn't out of malice, rather trying to keep the mood playful and hopefully less embarrassing for me, "I'll take my leave now."

He raised his head slightly as a goodbye gesture and turned in the opposite direction, I assume heading back to his home as well.

Now I must do my shopping here again, once I save enough money to do so.

[ai-no-scenario]

kazuha sweetie ilysm but please don’t get drunk your voice is just. a

[idy-ll-ique]

A Good Look.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: major angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds, domestic violence (no graphic descriptions). hella curse words in one paragraph. one infinity war reference ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Requested: nope

Summary: reader works at a bar owned by the notorious mob boss. he immediately takes a liking to her; unfortunately, she's taken. but is she happy in her relationship? hm, not quite...

Author's Note: hiya peeps! enjoy!

masterlist

---

For her, it started small. It was her first day working. When Y/N had seen him walk into the bar, flanked by two of his closest friends, sure— for a moment, she was stunned, as were the other women working with her, but then as soon as he was out of sight, she returned to her work, ignoring her friends as they talked about the man.

Y/N knew better. She knew the kind of man he was, the way he was with a different woman almost every day and she knew better than to develop any kind of feelings for him. Plus, she was a taken woman herself, thinking about another man while being in a relationship with someone had to be wrong, right?

That's why she wanted an out— to break up with her current boyfriend. And he even made it easier for her by being the worst fucking boyfriend on the planet earth. She had hundreds of reasons as to why she was breaking up with him, the only question was when she could do it. Anyway, back to James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes...

Y/N couldn't help it. She went from ignoring him, to stealing small glances at him, to dreaming about him to thinking about him 24/7 in a matter of months.

Y/N worked as a bartender at one of the bars that the mobster owned. Heck, Bucky Barnes owned half the city, but that bar was one of his favorite places to visit. He went there everyday, most days not having a drink, but keeping a watchful gaze on the events that took place around the bar. There would be fights sometimes, and sometimes, the older men would hit on the young bartenders.

He didn't care, of course he didn't. That is, until he saw her. The moment he laid his eyes on her, her name still unknown to him, he was enamored. He kept looking over at her as she worked, sometimes giggling along with the other bartenders, sometimes cracking jokes that made all of them keel over in laughter.

Every time he saw her laughing, his heart fluttered in his chest and a warmth settled over him. He felt light-headed and giddy, even though he didn't drink. Within a few months, he was sure, he wanted her to be his indefinitely. Y/N, however, was shocked at his behavior, not knowing that she was the one who stole his heart.

His promiscuity stopped within the first week of him noticing Y/N. He no longer had one-night stands, no more dames by his side as he attended lavish parties, and the news had caught on. Who is the woman who won the mobster's affections? Y/N had read in a paper one morning. She felt… kind of relieved that he wasn't a playboy anymore.

It wasn't a good look on him.

---

Y/N was cleaning the counter with a rag when she heard the door opening and closing. Ugh, another customer. She looked up and grimaced as she saw one of the old, pervy bastards sitting in front of her, a smile on his face. "Good evening, sir, what can I get you?" She kept the annoyance from seeping into her voice.

He gave her his order and leaned forward, which caused Y/N to unconsciously lean back. "Change your mind today?" he smirked, picking up the glass just as Y/N set it down in front of him, causing their fingers to brush. She shuddered. "No," she replied politely, glancing around the room, hoping someone would come save her. As if. That's when their eyes met.

Y/N found herself staring at the man of her dreams, who was sitting in the corner of the bar with his friends. And he was staring straight back at her. Y/N gulped and turned away from him, instead focusing on the man in front of her who was shamelessly flirting with the woman who had to be at least 20 years younger than him.

"Stop flirting with my employee and let her do her job."

The entire bar froze the moment James Buchanan Barnes got up from his seat, heading towards Y/N. Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his cool but threatening tone as he stared at the pervert, his eyebrows raised. The bar was silent as the man gulped and backed away from the counter, running out of the door like a chicken. Y/N stared at the floor.

"Hey."

She looked up and audibly gulped again, wincing in embarrassment when she realized that he had to know how scared she was. "Mr Barnes," she greeted, though it came out more like a squeak as her voice cracked. Please, go away, don't stand so close to me, I can't take it, go away, she kept muttering in her head.

"You okay?" he asked gently, not wanting the poor woman to collapse from anxiety. Some sadistic part of him liked it that she was so afraid of him, but mostly, he just wanted to make her feel comfortable. "Yeah." Y/N relaxed a bit at his question when she realized he wasn't going to hurt or fire her.

"Good." Then he walked away like he hadn't just set Y/N's entire body on fire by talking to her. As he sat back down on his seat, he inwardly cursed himself for not asking her her name. I don't even know the name of the woman I have fallen head over heels for, nice going Barnes! Gah! He ran a hand through his hair, glaring at nothing in particular.

He stayed until it was closing time, and found out something so incredible that his heart soared at the information. Y/N was the only employee who stayed until closing time. Y/N groaned loudly in the seemingly empty bar as she swept the place, not noticing the mobster boss sitting in the dark corner, watching her.

"Fuck you, Y/N. Fuck. You. Literally. What was the fucking reason?!" Y/N grumbled to herself, her voice reverberating off the walls in the empty place. "He was just checking up on you. Why the fuck did you treat him like he was the monster?! You dumbass. Ugh, I'm gonna have to make it up to him; what if he fires me?!" Y/N couldn't help the tears.

"He checked up on you and no thank you. What an ungrateful little bitch you are, you… you fucking idiot," Y/N continued speaking through the tears. "Maybe a free drink when he comes back tomorrow? Hah, as if, he owns the fucking bar. What should I do? Sleep with him? As if. Fuck. Shit."

"How about we start by washing your mouth with a soapbar, doll?"

Y/N froze when she heard him. Oh God, he was still here. "M-Mr Barnes?" she stammered, turning towards the voice. Bucky got up from his seat and strode towards her, making sure to keep some distance between them as he stopped in front of her. "Do you always ramble to yourself while you work?" he questioned amusedly.

When she had started rambling, he was confused. Who was she talking about? Then, he connected the dots. At first he was a bit amused but as her speech continued, he couldn't take it. How can someone degrade themselves so much? Y/N couldn't answer him, her vocal cords tied in a knot in her throat.

"I asked you something, and I'm waiting for an answer." At the authoritative tone she looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I— uh, yeah, it's— it's, um, become a habit," she muttered, breathing heavily. What was he going to do to her? "You shouldn't cuss yourself out so much, doll," he frowned, crossing his arms. And without thinking, she replied, "Sorry."

"That man was clearly bothering you, I did what I had to do. I didn't expect anything in return. Sure, a thank you would've been nice," he teased lightly, "But please, never talk to yourself like that ever again, okay?" His gentleness turned something inside of Y/N and suddenly, she felt relaxed. Like she had known him for years.

"Okay. Oh, and, thank you." She gave him a smile so winsome that all he wanted to do was hold her against him and never let go. "Hold on, maybe there is something you can do." The smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. "What is it?" she asked him, blinking. "Can we talk? Maybe you can tell me about yourself, and I can get to know you better."

So she did. Both of them sat at the bar with Bucky's favorite beer poured in mugs, talking. Y/N told him about how she was a university student, and that she had taken the job because she was in need of money. "You aren't scared? A lot of shit happens here, doll," Bucky commented, sipping his beer. "I don't know… it doesn't faze me as much as it should."

"And me! I'm the most dangerous man in the city and yet, you agreed to sit here with me, alone." At that, a smile bloomed on Y/N's face, the beer getting to her head, loosening her up. She looked away from him, almost shyly. "You saved me today, Mr Barnes. How can I not trust the guy who saved me?" Bucky's heart started hammering in his chest.

"Thank you, Y/N, that means a lot," he spoke sincerely. "You're welcome! So, uh, I actually have to go to uni early tomorrow, so… I'd like to go home, please?" He immediately nodded at her words, helping her off the stool. He even helped her finish her chores before she locked the main door and turned around, smiling at Bucky.

"Well, this is it, I guess. Goodbye, Mr Barnes."

"Let me drop you home, please." And he did, pestering her until she agreed to get in his car. She insisted her apartment building was only a 15-minute walk away from the bar, but he wouldn't listen. "A lot can happen in 15 minutes, doll." And Y/N couldn't help but snort. "That's what she said." Her joke made him laugh so hard that he almost swerved the car into the sidewalk.

As Y/N stared at the laughing man, she felt tingly inside. Her feelings rushed to her; butterflies in her stomach. When they reached home, again, he insisted on dropping her off at her apartment, but Y/N declined. And this time, he didn't fight it. "Goodnight, Mr Barnes," she told him with a sweet smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

He had been such a gentleman that day, he deserved it. "Bucky will do, my love. Be safe, okay? We'll meet tomorrow." With that, he drove off.

And for the first time in months, Y/N went to sleep happy, giddy and absolutely satisfied.

So did Bucky.

---

After that one incident in the bar, Y/N and Bucky became close. When he was at the bar, Y/N was the center of his attention. He was the one who now sat in front of her, talking to her about his day and asking her about hers. "Tell me about your uni, doll," or, "Do you know what they did to me today? Ugh! Maniacs!"

Soon, everyone in the bar started giving them space. They knew the two were not sleeping together, but Barnes had, at last, found a female friend. How did they know the two were not sleeping together, you ask? Simple. Y/N still had a boyfriend. An abusive one, so she didn't tell Barnes.

After finding out about the events that had taken place at the bar that day between Y/N and Bucky, her boyfriend had reached new heights of jealousy and insecurity, not hesitating to raise a hand on his own girlfriend as he blatantly accused her of cheating on him with the mobster. It wasn't true by a long shot, and it hurt.

Y/N hadn't told Bucky about her boyfriend, because she knew that if she told him, he'd kill her boyfriend. She was about to break up with him anyway, so getting Bucky involved would only create more problems. A peaceful break up, and it was over. Unfortunately, peace was not involved on the day of the inevitable break up...

Bucky was already at the bar, but was grumpy since Y/N wasn't there. He was so desperate that he had asked one of her friends if she knew where the woman was. But the other woman could only shake her head, indicating that she didn't know. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, his eyes trailing to the door the moment he heard it opening. He froze.

Everybody did.

Y/N was standing there, a very noticeable dark red patch on her white t-shirt. When she noticed that everyone was staring at her, especially Bucky, it made her nervous. Should've stayed at home. For a moment, she actually did consider going back out through the door but Bucky spoke up first. "Y/N, come here. Everyone out, bar's closed."

His tone was something she had never heard before. A mixture of annoyance, hurt, worry, but mostly anger. In another scenario, the scene of all the people scrambling out of the tiny door would've been extremely hilarious. But here, no one was laughing. Y/N stood frozen until the door closed behind her.

"I asked you to come here, doll."

Instinctively, she strode towards him, stopping just a few inches away. He stared down at her, jaw clenched. Being a mobster, he was used to seeing blood and could identify it easily. And it was definitely blood that was covering almost a sixth of Y/N's t-shirt. "Lift your shirt. Take it off, right now," he snarled.

Y/N, not wanting him to take his anger out on her, immediately ripped the t-shirt off of her, standing in front of him in her sports bra, a deep gash just under her left breast. Y/N flinched when his fingers came in contact with her wound and Bucky immediately retracted his arm. "What happened?" His tone changed. Now, it was simply full of hurt.

"He stabbed me." Bucky's hands balled into fists at his side. One name, all he needed her to do was give him a name and the bastard was dead, whether she liked it or not. "Who did?" "My boyfriend." Bucky went rigid at her words. All this time, she was taken? "You have a…?" She shook her head, letting her tears fall free. "Not anymore." That reassured him.

"I decided to break up with him today. Decided to do it before my shift here, so my job could distract me. He… he didn't like it. And he…" Y/N choked out through the tears. Bucky's body was boiling with anger. "Tell me his name right now." Y/N started feeling light-headed. "Bucky…" she whispered feebly, swaying on her spot. And he cursed loudly when she fell forward, unconscious.

He carried her out of the bar, put her in his car and drove above the speed limit to his place. He had a private infirmary at his mansion, where he knew Y/N would be the safest. Once he was home, not caring that his expensive suit was getting ruined by blood, he ran to the infirmary, Y/N in his arms. The doctors took her in for an operation and they had to admit—

They had never seen the mobster look so scared.

After he was sure Y/N was in good hands, Bucky went to the sitting room, where his friend, Sam, sat. "Pull out everything you can get on Y/N. Check everything. Social media— I need the name of her ex boyfriend." Sam got to work instantly, not wanting to aggravate the man. Turns out, he didn't have to search for long. "[Name]."

Sam told Bucky everything he could about the man. By the end, Bucky was seething. "Send some men over. Finish him." Again, Sam agreed without argument, rushing out of the room. And so, Bucky waited. He sat in the spacious sitting room all alone, holding his head in his hands, trying his best not to tear up.

---

"Bucky?"

It had been 6 hours since he brought her to his place. He startled and turned around to see Y/N standing at the door, leaning against it for support. This time, he did tear up and not caring about his dignity, he ran forward and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck, sobbing like a little child. "Bucky, I'm fine, I really am," Y/N insisted in vain.

"I almost lost you today," Bucky sniffled, pulling away from her. She wiped his tears off, giving him a small smile. After spending a lot of time with the man, she had come to realize that he was nothing but a big softie, who put on a façade 24/7. He cared about her like no one else. He was so good to her.

And finally, her feelings were justified.

"You didn't lose me, though. I'm right here," she grinned. Her grin made him smile and he took her face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Come here." Both of them walked into the room and he pulled her onto his lap, holding her close, thinking if he let go, she would turn to dust right in front of him.

"How bad is the wound?"

"Not that bad, actually, it was a kitchen knife." He moved to trace the wound through her t-shirt when he noticed it. She wasn't in her t-shirt, she was wearing one of his. This time, he didn't fight the urge. "God, I fucking love you so much, doll." Bucky grabbed her chin, pressing his lips to hers. She didn't fight it either.

"I… I love you too, Bucky."

She buried her face in his neck and he held her close, pressing tiny kisses to her cheek and forehead. "You're finally mine, baby girl. Ever since I saw you at the bar, I was smitten. Do you know what a torture it was for me?" he mumbled against her cheek. "Same. I, um…" He chuckled when he felt her skin warming against him.

"I'm going to treat you like the queen you are, baby."

"Aw, so cheesy. But flattering."

"Also, you're fired."

"Great, you ruined it."

"What? I'm the owner, I hire people. And you don't need the job anymore, you have me. I'll pay the university fees. You don't have to work at that horrible bar anymore."

"Bucky, you own the place."

"Still horrible."

"And also what are you, my sugar daddy?"

"Literally fuck off—"

"You know you love me."

"Fortunately, I do."

---

A/N: Thanks for reading. Leave a like if you enjoyed.

[mycupoffanfiction]

The One

Coco Cruz x Reader

Summary: Coco turns you in a clumsy, shy mess every time he’s around and you just can’t quite find the courage to tell him how you feel, that is until your Mayan brothers drag you both to a funfair.

Warnings: Fluff, lots of shyness, Angel and Gilly trying to be wingmen, a brief mention of public sex acts.

Word count: Approx 2600

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, I’ve been working on this fic for months, but it was never quite right, but I loved it too much to scrap it, so I’m super happy to finally be able to share it with you! I did struggle with this a bit, so I apologise if it’s not super smooth, but hey 🤷🏻‍♀️ This is just the first part, the second part will be with you soon. Enjoy! 💖

“How the fuck are you winning again?” Gilly groaned, slouching in his chair opposite you as you placed down a card on the table, effectively winning the round of the card game you were playing. Giggling, you shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, looking rather smug with yourself. “You challenged me, remember?” You giggled, all too happy that you’d won another round. Gilly sighed and tilted his head back before gathering up the cards. “One more round?” He asked, handing you the cards to shuffle and you nodded, taking them from him.

Shuffling the cards, you were mid conversation with Gilly about how you wanted to go to the fair that had been set up just outside of town, when Angel and Coco entered the clubhouse. “It’ll be great, also, I don’t believe him, but Coco said he’d never had cotton candy before and-.” “He’s never what?” Gilly replied, incredulous, if not a little over dramatic and you giggled, shaking your head. “There’s your chance for a date, hermana, take ‘im to get cotton candy.” Gilly chuckled, nudging your hand with his, to which you protested with a drawn out, hushed ‘noooo Gilly’.

You were a dear friend to the club and all of its members, so much so that you were often titled ‘hermana’ since you had become a sister to most members, though some of them, notably Bishop had taken to calling you mija. But really, you kept everyone in the club grounded and you were greatly appreciated for your loving, sweet nature, despite the fact that you were horrendously clumsy and on more than one occasion had managed to run into people, drop everything and break things, not that anyone minded. But it always seemed to happen more prominently around Coco and the boys were beginning to notice it happen more frequently when you were around him.

“What are you two up to?” Angel asked, interrupting your thoughts as you shuffled the cards. “Just having a game.” Gilly replied, going on to tell Angel about how he’d totally won the last three rounds, to which Angel snorted in disbelief. It was another moment before you even realised that Coco was there, he’d not said a word, but you looked up to deal the cards between you, only to see him eyeing you over Gilly’s shoulder and you fumbled with the cards, some of the deck falling from your hands and spilling over the table and scattering everywhere while you attempted to keep them together.

“Oh jesus- fucking- hi Coco.” You managed to squeak out, Gilly trying so hard to contain his laughter as Angel gathered up the cards that had dropped to the floor and you felt the heat of embarrassment surge through you as you shuffled the cards back into a stack. “Hey corazón.” Coco responded with a light chuckle at your sudden bout of clumsiness and you felt yourself melt at the name he used for you, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how shy and embarrassed you were.

“I’ll get some beer.” Coco announced, throwing you a smile as he walked away. “How long is this gonna go on for? I can’t deal with you goin’ all butter fingers whenever you just fucking look at him.” Angel hissed, though he was far too amused by it all to actually be annoyed and you desperately wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Everyone knows you love him.” Angel told you and your eyes went wide. “I’m pretty sure even Coco knows.” He chuckled and you felt even more nervous about saying anything. “Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t listen to Angel, hermana.” Gilly said, lightly whacking him on the arm. “You gotta tell Coco-.” “Tell me what?” Coco cut in as he came back with some bottles and you slid down a little in your seat. “Oh, our little hermana here-.” “Thinks it’s ridiculous that you’ve never had cotton candy before.” Gilly interrupted Angel, kicking him under the table and you gave him a thankful smile before shooting daggers at Angel who looked far too pleased with himself. “What?” Angel asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

Coco just looked at you with a raised brow, evidently not believing it one bit and you quickly reached for your drink, hoping at the very least that occupying yourself with the bottle would distract you a bit. Coco lit himself a cigarette and toked it a couple of times before taking a full draw of his smoke, reaching for his beer.

“So what about that fair outside of town this weekend?” Gilly asked. “I’m down, I need a change of fucking scenery.” Angel nodded. “Coco?” Gilly asked as you took a sip from your bottle. He shrugged, looking at the two men with indifference. “Hey, c’mon man, remember last time with the photobooth?” Angel nudged him, winking. “Shut up, carnal.” Coco rolled his eyes, taking a puff from his cigarette as Gilly snorted. “The fabled tale of Coco gettin’ loco with not one, but two girls in a fuckin’ photobooth.” Angel said, speaking as if it was some kind of epic tale, when really, it was more of a half drunk escapade that Coco barely remembered a wink of, apart from maybe the tale end of a two girl blowjob.

“You comin’ hermana?” Gilly asked, completely changing the subject and you looked between the three men, giving them a look of uncertainty. “I don’t know guys, you’re just gonna abandon me in the teacups again.” You pouted, Gilly and Angel immediately erupting into laughter at the memory from last year.

Coco huffed as he listened to the conversation. He didn’t care about finding girls to have a little fun with at the fair, if anything, he was more interested in something else, not that he was going to make that known, especially not with Angel and Gilly around.

Coco leaned over, draping his arm around the back of your chair. “I’ll go if you go, corazón.” He whispered in your ear and you instantly felt yourself burn up from his close proximity and the way he said those words, deep, enticing, but somehow still sweet and soft. Angel and Gilly too were far too wrapped up in retelling stories of their last trip to a fair to pay any attention to Coco’s actions and you swallowed heavily, glancing shyly across at him, the Mayan much closer than you had anticipated and as you faced him, eyes almost too timid to meet his, your breaths mingled for a moment with how closely he had leaned in.

“I’ll go.” You responded quietly, voice barely audible, but Coco heard you just fine and your response prompted a big, lopsided smile on his lips and you wondered how you’d even mustered the courage to respond.

“See you there, corazón.” He smirked, leaning back to take the last sip of his beer before he stood up from the table abruptly enough to get the attention of Angel and Gilly.

“Gotta go, got shit to do with Letty.” He said, putting his bottle down on the table. “See you later ‘mano.” Angel waved him off, Gilly eyeing your flustered state and giving you a questioning look as you attempted to pull yourself together.

“You alright hermana?” He asked. “Probably.” You nodded, clearing your throat a little and shifting in your seat, uncomfortable under the questioning looks you were getting from both men before you finally decided to awkwardly say goodbye to your brothers and excuse yourself from the table.

“Tell me I wasn’t the only one who saw that?” Gilly hissed at Angel. “Nah man, I saw the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her.”

The next day was far too quick to come around and by the time you’d rocked up to the fun fair on the back of Gilly’s bike, you felt like the last day had slipped away from you far faster than you would have liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to spending the day with your boys, you were so excited to spend some time with them away from the MC. But your apprehension came more from being afraid that you might fuck things up with Coco. What if you told him how you felt and he rejected you? What if he avoided you? That would crush you, but while you had been nervous about admitting feelings to Coco, all of your brothers knew that the two of you would be perfect together, which was why they were adamant on pushing you both together despite your often silent panic when they did so.

It was early evening as you walked with Gilly over to where Angel was standing in the parking lot, leaning against his bike, waiting impatiently for you both.

“You’re gonna tell Coco today, right?” Angel asked before he even greeted you, pushing away from his bike before approaching you and Gilly. “Oh yeah, it’s real nice to see you too Angel.” Gilly replied in a sarcastic tone, making the taller of the two snort in response. “But you’re gonna, right?” Gilly joined in, turning to look at you as you glanced at the two bikers who stared at you expectantly. “I mean… Maybe?” You answered, hoping it was enough to get them off your back about Coco, but it only seemed to make it worse because Angel was adamant a plan he’d come up with for how you should tell Coco was ‘fool proof’, whatever that implied.

“We’re meeting Coco in the fair, he’s late.” Angel informed you both as Gilly began to lead the group of you across the parking lot towards the entrance booth. “Club shit?” Gilly asked. “Nah, somethin’ to do with Letty.” He shrugged.

You stood with a grin on your lips as you watched Gilly and Angel playfully banter between them as they waited to have a go at winning something at a booth with water pistols and targets.

As you watched, you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands gently grip your shoulders and you barely had time to react before you heard his deep, low voice, quickly relaxing you. “Whoa, relax corizon, s’just me.” Coco spoke softly in your ear. “Coco,” You looked over your shoulder at him with an uncontrollable smile, the biker coming round to your side, his arm staying around your shoulders.

“Sorry I’m late, was making cake with Letty.” Coco told you with a smile. “Don’t tell Angel that.” He added, making you giggle and shake your head. “I won’t, your secret is safe with me.” You replied, voice quiet and soft. Coco looked over at you, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he caught your gaze, noting how relaxed you looked, how relaxed you felt against him and it brought a warmth to his heart to see you that way.

Angel glanced over his shoulder at Coco and the pair nodded at each other in a silent greeting, Angel smirking as soon as he saw you tucked against Coco’s side with his arm around you before he turned his attention back to the game when it was his and Gilly’s turn.

“Wanna go do shit without those two?” Coco asked. “Gonna have another headache if I gotta babysit them.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’d like that.” You nodded, letting Coco tug you along with him.

Coco walked you through the fairground, stopping by stalls and booths along the way to play a few games, his smile always doubling in size whenever he heard you giggle, noticing you enjoying yourself in his company. Coco had wanted to spend time with you and talk to you for a while, but no matter how hard he tried, one of the Mayans always seemed to drop themselves into the conversation before he even had a chance to try and ease you out of your shell and give you his full, undivided attention.

And now, as you both found yourself on the furthest side of the fairground, overlooking a beautiful sunset in the distance with a bag of candy floss in Coco’s hand that he shared with you.

It was such a sweet moment, calm and dreamy, the ambience of funfair was soft in the background, the soft, golden glow of the sunset gently casting over the desert horizon.

Coco looked over at you, bathed in golden light, gorgeous with a soft smile on your lips. He felt himself smile uncontrollably as you leaned against his side, his hand finding yours, fingers slowly and gently intertwining.

It felt right, it felt like it was meant to be in the sweet, serene moment you shared together and Coco knew right then and there that he’d found the one for him. You were the one.

“Coco,” It came out as a whisper, warmth filling you when you realised how naturally your hand had fit in his, how wonderful his touch felt against yours. “Yeah, corazón?” He asked, barely above a whisper, his voice low and warm against your ear as he leaned against you.

“I… I’m-.” You cut yourself off with a sigh, eyes cast down at your feet, trying to hide yourself, the feeling of shyness overcame you.

“Hey, take your time, mi estrellita.” Coco hummed softly to you, his voice soothing as you drew in a deep, slow breath. But when you became too shy to respond, he smiled, bringing your hand up to his chest, prompting you to look at him, a bit too timid to hold his gaze fully. “Look at me, mi corazón.” Coco whispered, reaching over to lift your chin with his fingers.

You shared a comfortable moment of silence together, your hand resting against his chest, the background chatter and laughter of the fair adding to the ambience, the sun slowly lowering just enough to leave you bathed in a soft, hazy twilight.

“I know, I know that every time you look at me, you get shy.” Coco said, watching as you tore your gaze away from him quickly. “Hey hey, wait, hold on corazón.” He urged, tugging you back to him gently. “But I get butterflies every time I look at you, I get this fuckin’ uncontrollable smile whenever I see you lookin’ at me ‘cause fuck, ma, you drive me crazy.” He smiled to himself, his eyes lighting up as he spoke openly about how he felt.

“It drives me fuckin’ crazy whenever I think about you, I think ‘bout all this shit I wanna do with you, shit I’ve never wanted to do with anyone before.” He confessed, both of his hands holding yours to his chest as he spoke and you couldn’t help but look at him and wonder if you weren’t just dreaming. “Really?” You managed to get out. “Yeah, I can’t get’chu outta my mind.” Coco grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hands.

“I wanna take you on a date, wanna make you happy in every way I can, in every way possible ‘cause you deserve nothin’ less.” He paused, drawing in a deep breath before his eyes met yours. “Will you let me do that? Will you let me make you my girl?” He asked softly, watching as you smiled, shyly nodding, a little taken aback by his sweet words.

“I’d love that, Coco.” You said, almost in a whisper, but Coco met you with a bright grin before he leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Mi estrellita.” He whispered, pulling you against his chest and holding you close, embracing you gently, his heart fluttering, feeling on top of the world, because Coco got his girl.

He found the one.

Mayans/SOA Taglist (OPEN):

@everyhowlmarksthedead​ @woahitslucyylu​ @trulysuccubus​ @iambabyharry​ @starrynite7114​ @ifoundmyhappythought @peaches007​ @angelreyesgirl​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @plentyoffandoms​ @lovebennycolon​ @chibsytelford​ @mayans-sauce​

Permanent Taglist (OPEN):

@scuzmunkie​ @megantje123​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @loving-life-my-way​ @searching-for-neverland​ @kitkatd7​ @psychiccreationtaco​ @damienwitcher​ @thesewaywardskies​ @abbiesthings​ @marquelapage​ @noz4a2​ @queenbeered​

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 8

Supposedly everything I post consecutively is one part, but I always reach the 250 block limit everytime so I am forced to cut it off! It's all good though, I just hope you don't mind that.

Anyways, enjoy reading! I'll be working on my requests after I post this and the slasher fic in my works.

Edit: Holy sh*t I thought it wouldn't fit but it did! (And I meant the word count you dirty lil thing—) This will be the longest part in the series yet (since 4.3k words fit perfectly)

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Fem!Human/Reader)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: None :)

Contains: f l u f f (and maybe too much blushing but I have no regrets)

—

You let the student call the police as you tied up four unconscious men using their clothing. You left when you heard the distant sound of sirens and trusted her to explain what had transpired in the alley. You bid her farewell, resuming your walk to your destination. You breathed out your exhaustion, the little energy you got from a short nap earlier got spent punching people again.

"So...that was..."

"Expected." The orc supplied when you trailed off.

"Mm...Yeah."

Expected, both disappointing and frustrating. You did your best not to snap at the kid for it and only hoped she understood and learned.

The sun had already sunk long ago, but there was still a myriad of warm colors. Very subtle, but there. Each passing second transitioning it into a darker shade until little specks of light became visible. The sky...black in a matter of minutes. Street lamps lit your path as shops both closed and opened for the night with people saying hello and goodbye.

"Thank you, by the way. For uh, earlier." You got careless. Too careless than you usually are.

You shivered at the thought of what might've been the outcome.

He only nodded, along with a grunt of affirmation beside you.

"Are you mad?" you whispered. Was he angry at you being a stupid idiot and rushing straight into danger?

"No, just, "—he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers—"worried." His scent was clearly not just of worry. He was also scowling.

-

Tai'chi was very worried about you, he always had ever since you met, which wasn't long but he felt a strong need to protect you, even if you could handle yourself well on your own. Oh, but he was angry, enraged within at those men who harmed the poor student, especially at the one who almost stabbed you at the back. If they were in his stronghold they would've been fed to the wargs.

No, he would've torn them apart himself.

You didn't speak again until you arrived at your place, finally. You're not rich and even if you were you have no desire to live in those luxurious and super expensive condos. You preferred to have something homey, small, as long as it had what you needed for comfort and safety, you were content.

It also saves a lot of money for future expenses and emergencies.

"So, uhm, welcome." You said as you unlocked your door after several tries on putting the key in. Tai'chi ducked considerably under it, his large frame barely making it through.

You took off your shoes, placed them on the side, and kept your socks on. He followed suit, taking off his boots, coming out barefooted.

It wasn't smelly, which was pretty surprising.

You headed to your kitchen and prepare dinner for both of you, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.

"I will cook." Tai'chi spoke and you immediately replied, stuttering.

"I-I should be the one cooking for you! It's not right. I'm the host and you're the guest it shouldn't be—"

"Pearl, I will cook." He asserted, his voice deep and confident, you sighed as it made you relent. You'd make a mess if you did anyway, might chop your hand off with a knife or dunk your head in the pot.

"Fine. But next time I'll do something for you instead," you groaned.

-

The orc grunted once before he stepped past you and into your kitchen while you plodded to your room.

Tai'chi paused for a moment to take in the details of your house. It was fairly small. From where he stood, his head was a foot away from touching the ceiling. To his left was an open way to what he assumed was the living room where he could make out half of a brown couch facing away from him. He also noticed a couple of framed photos hanging on a faded orange wall. Tai'chi glanced in the direction where you disappeared, he could hear the faint sound of the shower going on.

Good.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he started preparing dinner for the two of you, making use of what was present in your humble home. You had a similarly humble kitchen with a simple stovetop and double-door cupboards.

A decent-sized (a/n: everything is small to him okay) refrigerator sat in the corner where he found some meat in its freezer, quite a huge portion for such a small person like you, but then again he witnessed firsthand how much you could eat, and eat like an orc you did. Tai'chi reached inside to grab the meat but met resistance. He subconsciously yanked the frozen thing off, his eyes widened when he realized what he did, nearly topping over the whole appliance. Tai'chi sheepishly adjusted the refrigerator back in its place, before he looked for other ingredients while he carefully moved around to avoid any more mishaps.

-

You went inside your bedroom, groggy and disgusting as you pulled off your clothes and threw them in a basket just outside your bathroom. You stepped inside and took a long, hot, well-deserved shower to get that dried sweat and blood off of your body. After you rinsed down, you sunk yourself in your little tub, sighing in content as you tried your best not to fall asleep. You shuddered and trapped yourself in a daze, enjoying the hot water around your naked form, relaxing in the aromatherapy you made for yourself as you hummed a tune, letting your thoughts wander.

The precision of that throw was simply scary. But also cool...mm. Awesome.

I wonder what happened to the Silverstones...

Courting, huh...who would've thought I'd be courted by an orc. I wonder what that entails...

Wait, I'll be courting him too, right?

"..."

You got out when the wrinkling started. Your muscles were still aching but less so than before. You used a towel to dry down before wearing a black oversized shirt, you had about 6 of them in your wardrobe 'cause hey, not one to dress up fancy and flashy. Plus blood gets splattered on your clothes a lot, it would be a waste of time and money. You also slipped inside your favorite pair of dark grey joggers, the one you always wore when you were at home. They were comfy!

You let your hair fall over your shoulders and back since it was still damp. When you got out the scent of cooked food engulfed you, wafting from your right.

Oh, how mouth-watering it was.

You tiptoed to your kitchen to peek at what Tai'chi cooked up. Unfortunate when you couldn't see anything with his broad physique was blocking your line of sight on the table.

"I could smell you, you know."

You almost, almost let out a yelp. You wiped your drool with the hem of your shirt.

"I- uh-"

He chuckled, "You must be starving. I—" Words died in his throat when he turned around to look at you.

He gawked.

You surprised him for the nth time today. There you stood before him, relaxed and freshly cleaned up, a whiff of mint reached his nose, your shampoo perhaps, mixed with your scent. You didn't have your mask on, which gave him a full look at your face, your lips were a little chapped, half-lidded eyes showing your exhaustion.

"Is there something on my face?"

"N-No." He stuttered as he tried to get something out. "Ehem, no. You just look... I'm done with dinner, you— we should eat, and then we can talk." Tai'chi said as he moved to take a chair and sat across you. You let that go, in favor of sating your hunger.

His cheeks were a bit darker in shade than his skin, but that slipped away as the dinner in front of you grabbed your full attention. It looked and smelled like pork curry. Was it pork curry? It's like something straight out of a Ghibli movie.

Bite-sized chunks of meat, diced potatoes, and carrots coated with a rich syrupy brown soup together with a modest –at least to both of you– portion of rice next to it. It was simple, but the way it tempted your senses implied that there was something more than what meets the eye, and your nose.

Or it's your gluttony speaking, probably.

You picked up your spoon and wondered if it's as good as it appears to be. You gulped, audibly.

You brought a small portion into your mouth, nearly falling off of your seat as you resisted the urge to make any sound that would outright embarrass you, but lo, as you took another spoonful, you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a moan. Your eyes widened and immediately covered your face with two hands as you felt it heat up.

You chewed and swallowed before you squeaked out, "I-I-I'm so sorry! It- It's just so yummy and tasty and I— it's amazing, and uh..." You trailed off and groaned, at a loss of words in your embarrassment. You risked to part your fingers and peek at him. He met your gaze and you hid again. His cheeks were in a darker hue than before. Was he flustered like you? Oh no, you shouldn't have done that, now he will think you're being weird!

Tai'chi cleared his throat and you removed your hands but refused to make eye contact with him, your face still hot.

-

"We... We should eat." He said, stiff and trying to seem indifferent. But that sound you made would forever be engraved into his mind, it was both cute, and, well, sensual.

Okay fine, it was somehow arousing, but he has it under control, he will keep his damn urges in check, even if it means jumping out of the window just to make sure he won't scare you away. He's an orc of honor for goodness' sake, he swore an oath, he will keep it.

You ate fast but paused to savor the food, minus any embarrassing noises, thankfully. The curry was rich and a bit spicy, the pork was soft and tender as you chewed at it easily, juicy as it is, along with the potatoes and carrots, both cooked and prepared with obvious care. You almost cried from the combination of flavors you nearly forgot it was just curry you're eating.

But damn, this is the best curry you've eaten your whole life.

It was minutes later when you finished your fourth heaping plate of food. Tai'chi had five. He made a lot which was great, considering how your plates were wiped clean as if they weren't used in the first place.

Damn, you ate like you didn't eat for a week.

With some regained energy, you stood and took the dishes before Tai'chi could even stop you, putting them in the sink and washing them, quick and thorough. Once you were done with that, you went back to your seat, ducked your head, and stared at your lap.

"..."

"I... Thank you for the food. It was really delicious and great and everything! And, uhm, you made the pork curry like a pro and I never tasted anything so fulfilling, —my mother will beat me if she heard that—and it was a simple curry but I, it's just so, so—" you huffed, "mind-blowing!" You were rambling, you knew. You looked up when he didn't say anything.

H-He's grinning...

"Thank you. I pride myself in my skill in the kitchen and I'm happy what I made for you was satisfying." Tai'chi thumped his chest, showing that he was very honoured to hear your words. He's never telling you he almost broke your fridge though.

"It was great!" You exclaimed right after him, throwing your hands up. It was truly great. He grinned even wider at this, that dark shade still present in his cheeks, though you were no better as you could feel the warmth on your own.

"Then I am beyond happy and honored to hear that from you," liga lul, he stated, only saying of the last part in his head.

You smiled at each other.

-

"Is now a good time to discuss my kind's courting rituals?" Taichi asked after a minute of sitting there in silence.

"Y-Yes, please," you replied. "So, how do orcs court someone?"

He straightened up in his seat.

"We show off to the one we're interested in, basically speaking. Ranging from skills in fighting to proving that we could provide for our...mate." He paused, watching you closely.

You nodded for him to continue. Not gonna lie, that last part made your heart skip a beat. Mate, huh.

"We," he coughed, "we also chase or fight off other suitors, be it threatening them or engaging them in battle. And if they attempt to kidnap or hurt the person courted in any way, they will suffer the wrath of an orc."

"So, they'll...die?"

"Yes, or so that's what it usually was back home. Here, in this city, it's a crime to kill someone just for that reason, but it is law among us. No one would bat an eye if someone gets beheaded just because they were foolish enough to insult the person an orc is courting."

"Oh," pretty brutal but okay. "Is there an option where they don't get murdered or..." You asked, waving your hand around. Killing because of an insult is going overboard, in your opinion, but then again, anyone would be furious if their potential partner gets slandered or taken away forcefully.

"When the courted wills it. It is always up to them to decide the fate of those who tried to harm them, and the orc must take their words into action."

"Oh, good. I really don't want you getting in trouble just because someone called me a freak and all," you said. You looked at your hands, calloused and a little rough from experience. Scars were littered over your body and you hid them well from any curious eye with your long sleeves and pants. Though right now, some of the scars on your arms were visible.

You jerked when you felt his large hand grab your arm and moved along to yours, rubbing his thumb on the back of it, his brows furrowed as he looked at you.

"They are wrong to call you that."

"And everyone's a piece of shit to call you a beast, a savage, or a murderer," you followed up in an instant.

His expression softened, and you smiled, ignoring how your heart hammered in your chest as he continued to caress your hand.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse, beating so fast he was scared for your health. But he was happy to know he could make you feel this way, his own heart was thumping loudly in his chest too.

"As I said before, we would show that we could provide for our potential partners. We would bring to them our best kills from hunts, offer gifts crafted by ourselves if we have the skill, if not, we will buy them tokens and things that remind us of them or what pleases them."

"Wait," you interrupted, "when you insisted on cooking dinner, was that a part of courting?"

He gave you a small smile as he scratched his sideburns, sheepish like a little child caught stealing candy.

"Yes." He answered, rather quiet than his usual booming voice.

"Uhm, I must say, it was really amazing. Your cooking, I mean. And thank you, again."

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied. "Building houses or fixing the courted's current one is also a part of it."

"You're not gonna build me house right away, are you?" You joked, but then he didn't reply. "Wait, you're serious? But we're still studying and—"

"I am serious about building a house for, uh, the two of us," he interrupted, "but yes, I understand our current situation won't allow that to happen...yet."

"H-How long does the courting last?" You couldn't help but ask. He's talking about building you a house someday and you don't even know how old he is! No connection to what you're fumbling about but yeah, your mind is messed up. You are curious though...his age.

"It usually lasts for six months, to give time to get to know each other but also not prolong the courting stage so they could proceed to the next, but there are times when it lasts longer than that. You will have absolute control over how fast or slow we proceed in the courtship. That means it's up to you on when to end it and decide whether you'll...take me as your mate, or turn me down."

"Sounds pressuring but okay." You want to, like, combust right now.

He chuckled.

"Pressuring? No, no, please do not be pressured. Your word is law and I will face death by my family's ax if I disobey your final decision."

"Again with the death thingy!" You were appalled at how extreme orcs were.

"Us orcs are very strict and firmly tied to our traditions, but I can say we are changing. It is slow, but change nonetheless."

"I have a question," you raised your free hand out of habit.

Tai'chi nodded.

"I hope this is won't offend but how old are you?"

There, you said it. Oh fuck, you hoped it wasn't offending. Shit it was— asking his age, seriously?

"How old do you think I am?" He questioned, teasing you, a smirk on his lips catching you off guard.

"What? Noooo that's not an answer! I can't guess, you might get angry."

"I won't," he supplied right after. Why would he be? In fact, he is pretty much enjoying himself just watching you fidget with your ears slightly tinted pinkish. By the gods, he wants to touch them.

You sighed.

You stared at him, avoiding eye-contact as you tilted your head to get a good look at his features. He had a long and narrow scar you didn't spot before, in a lighter green color on the left side of his face. It wasn't noticeable if you stare at him up-front. It went down his neck and ended just above his collar bone. You wondered what caused it.

The orc was rough, his double tusks sharp and intimidating, even horrifying to another set of eyes but to you, he was attractive and rugged, his scent alluring and you only found him more fascinating each passing second. The scars he had enticed your curiosity but you weren't gonna ask about it, yet.

You always thought the standards set by society are rather absurd. You looked back at the time when someone asked you what your type was, along with showing you different pictures of men, human men, which were deemed "hot" (with quotation marks, yes) by most people. You didn't answer because; one, you don't know them; two, you couldn't tell what their personality was because you can't scent them; and three, it only annoyed you. People found you even weirder after that. Ironically deeming you senseless for not having an eye for beauty. No taste or missing out, they said.

But one's beauty wasn't found in sight alone.

You hummed to yourself. His hair was rich black, no trace of graying, so maybe he's not so old? 30s? How fast do orcs grow up? Do they even age? What do they look like when they were children?

You were brought back to the present when he gently squeezed your hand.

"Oh— uh, 35?" You blurted out, a bit panicked. As far as you know no one is as....buff as him in your age— but wait he's an orc!

"Oh no wait that's—"

You were cut off by a loud snort followed by a boisterous laugh coming out of Tai'chi, making you more embarrassed than you already are. His guffaw shook your apartment you swear your neighbors are filing a noise complaint tomorrow with how much he was laughing and you raising your voice.

"No," he said, "no actually, I'm still in my 23rd year. Do I really look that old?" He questioned as he chortled.

"23rd?! But you're— you're," you gestured at him. He's just five years older than you (which isn't long period of time you think) but he's— he's fucking huge! What the hell did they eat up North?

"Yes," he laughed again, amused by your reaction. "Believe it or not I am. Orcs begin training at age 6" he shifted the topic, "The adults would let them choose their desired weapon and craft to pursue, but also allowed them to experience all selections, from swords, battle axes, hammers, and many more, along with skills and crafts like hunting, blacksmithing, combat, construction, even basket weaving.

"I went on my first hunt when I was 12 and brought a stag back home. I tamed my first warg at 15, named him Nadul, Orcish for 'night'."

"6 year old me snuck out of the house during nap time to collect twigs in the woods while you were wielding weapons and—"

"That is correct,"

"And you had a pet warg?" You knew what wargs are, you read about them when you were in high school, along with other animals that fascinated you. They looked like large wolves with the stature of an adult grizzly bear and can carry a full-grown orc into battle.

"Have," he corrected, his fluffy buddy was still very much alive and well the last time he went back to visit his home, which was three months ago. He doubted anything could take down Nadul, not even a Frostbear, he was the one who trained him after all.

"I still can't believe you're 23. You look so..."— you were not gonna say old, no— "mature."

"At a different rate from humans, yes."

Of course they do. You got so much to learn about orcs, and him.

"And you? How old are you?"

"19."

"Oh? You look 13 with how little you are,"

You didn't expect him to be playful like this, but you went along.

"Hey! I'm only small compared to you, you giant!" True, you were a tad shorter than most girls your age but it has its perks! You'd save a lot of money from buying clothes just because you grew rather slowly. "And in fact, I'm still growing!"

"So am I." He grinned, smugness painted all over his face.

"Noooo, if you keep growing you won't fit through the doorway!" You whined, pouting at how much of a tease he was being.

He found it adorable, the way your lower lip was upturned as you looked at him. The sudden urge to pat you rose but he didn't act on it.

"Do not worry, us orcs stop growing in our 25th year," or not. "And I will make sure to feed and treat you good so you'll become taller!" he stated confidently. Tai'chi was about to laugh again, but he froze with his jaw open when you turned real red, your ears tinted and your lips quivered, unable to speak out anything.

That last part, made your face feel like fire just kissed it, twice. Panicked and having no idea what to retort, you let your head fall on the table with a thud. You gripped his hand tight and took silent breaths to calm your thumping heart down.

"Y-Yeah... I..I l-look forward to that, Tai'chi." You were able to say that at least.

He gave a soft grunt as he looked at you on the table.

You were very flustered, he scented. His comment-sort-of-declaration was clearly the reason. But oh, he had no regrets. He will make sure you're healthy and well-fed, and it's just one way of showing off with his skills.

That's only the beginning.

You were in for some Orcish surprises.

You sat in comfortable silence again for a while, just taking in each other's scents, soothing and calming your hammering heart. Tai'chi continued to caress your hand, gentle for such a big orc like him. He could snap your neck with two fingers alone, but he remained careful like he was holding a thing so delicate.

Tai'chi could feel your pulse slow down to a normal rate, your scent shifted to that of a relaxed state and something fuzzy. He can't call you his yet, you just met today but you already got him wrapped around your tiny fingers. First, he will court you and show his admiration, prove his worth. And you, yourself, turning it into love the more you spend time together, he knows it will.

And he'll surely be damned to let this chance slip. Not once did he took interest in getting a mate before, his mind too busy and filled with his responsibilities along with studies in other kind's culture, and taking care of his siblings.

But back then and there, something pulled on his heart, the way your eyes stared into his for seconds that felt longer than eternity itself. An exaggeration, but that's what he felt.

He found you.

-

You were about to doze off so you removed your head from the table and tried to blink away your sleepiness, the light hurting you a little. You should get to bed soon, your first class starts at 8 in the morning. You stared at Tai'chi, admiring that blue eyes of his, its hue similar to that of lapis lazuli, you thought.

"I should take my leave now. We need to rest, especially you." Tai'chi said when he saw how tired you appeared, you were barely keeping your eyes open. He stood up from his seat, lightly pulling you up with him. You shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you led him to your door.

"Keep safe," you bid once he was ready to go.

"You as well... I will see you tomorrow."

"Mm, g'night."

Tai'chi breathed through his nose before he placed a kiss on your forehead. It was brief, but it sent a pleasant warmth all over your body. You were too sleepy to even bother being shy now, so you only smiled at him.

"Goodnight, lak'mar lul." He gazed at you, sighing before he stepped out of your apartment.

You stood there for a moment before you checked your door and made sure it was deadlocked. You killed the lights off as you sluggishly trudged to your bed. Darkness enveloped your home, a welcome one. You crawled to the middle and tucked yourself under the dark blue cotton sheets.

You were out like a light once you settled down. Much too many things happened right after another, draining you to an exhaustingly low point. You only prayed you'd feel better in the morning.

Your last thought was about how warm the orc was, and how, for some reason, his scent, his presence, felt like a home you never had, which was saying something since you had encountered a lot of scents in your life, both good and bad. You hugged your pillow tight as you succumbed to a dreamless slumber.

—

I'm putting this off for a bit to give time for requests and other WIPs. But if a random continuation pops out I'll have to write it down and set it aside for editing later.

Thank you for reading!

[malfoyfarms]

Robin Hood (JJ Maybank)

Request: “I love your writing! Could I request a jj x reader set where he takes the drug dealer's money and you try to convince him to not take it, saying ur worried for him and u don't want to lose him or something and he ends up not taking it in the end and just fluff lol” 

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 513

Warnings/Triggers: drug dealing, stealing, major angst, 

A/N: hi guys i’m back, my req box is open, and i miss writing… also I kinda changed this request because i don’t want to be happy rn

“So that’s my worth?” Y/n’s voice was cold as ice. Each of the four pogues stopped at her statement. “To you I am $24,999 or less, JJ, is that how you see me?” 

The boy stopped and turned to look at the girl he had grown to love. Her persona wasn’t angry, it was disappointment. Her left shoulder sat lower than her right, her frizzy hair seemed to grow with each word. The once bright e/c eyes were clouded over. This treasure hunt had been slowly reducing the group to testing each other’s limits. If JJ took this money, oh how he could spoil her. He would replace the 5 year old converse on her feet, get her a pair of jeans that weren’t ripped and two sizes too big. Get her a pair of glasses so she didn’t constantly have to squint. 

“Y/n you don’t understand, they hit us, we hit back harder,” JJ yelled back, not backing down. “Steal from the rich and give to the poor.”

“JJ you are no Robin Hood. You’re putting all of us in danger, you give that away and Barry will come for each and every family you pass it out to.”

JJ took one look at the worry that filled his friends faces and gripped the wad tighter. His internal monologue was conflicted. He landed on the idea of keeping it and headed towards the woods.

“You turn and walk away with the money, I want you to know the consequences.” Her voice was tiny. He paused and gave the girl a glare. “You take the money and you lose me. You take the money and that proves to me that all the ‘I love you’s,’ all the late night confessions, future plans, sunrise surfs, breakfasts with my family, all the sex, beer die wins, and this necklace around my neck meant nothing to you.”

JJ’s chin quivered as Y/n exposed their relationship, but she wasn’t done.

“Those hammock naps? Stealing the Phantom for mischief? Holding onto each other when we thought we were about to shatter? Throw it out the window. You walk away with that money kiss me goodbye because I know I’m priceless, and if you can’t see that, I’ll find a man who will.” 

He had tears rolling down his cheeks, but he could only see red. JJ silently wiped his few tears and returned to his previous task of walking away. 

The small squeak that left Y/n’s lips as he entered the words was barely audible, but JJ still heard it. His head on instinct whipped around to see the girl crumpled in Pope’s arms. She was supposed to be in his arms, not his best friend’s. But he made his decision and he needed to stick with it. 

As Y/n’s world shattered, so did JJ’s, he just didn’t realize it yet. Her sob’s could be heard for miles as the love of her life walked away from her. 

“I-I-I will be a Robin Hood, and I will prove it to her.” 

[blue-lions-baby]

Operation Confession (Dimitri x F!Reader) [Ch. 3] [FINALE]

hi!! well, this is it. the final chapter of operation confession. to be very honest, with everything going on it was quite difficult to write this, but i hope the quality is still relatively the same as my previous chapters! i had so much fun writing this series, and i hope reading it was just as entertaining! thank you so much for sticking with it-- it means the absolute world to me :)

this will prob be my last post for a bit before i head off to college; please rest assured i do not plan to leave this blog or this wonderful community anytime soon! thank you for being patient with me as i adjust to this very new chapter of my life!!

without further ado, please enjoy ch. 3!

~*~

“Hey, false alarm!” Sylvain traipsed back in, hands behind his head. “(F/N) and Felix are actually gonna freshen up a bit before heading to dinner.”

Groans and angry huffs spilled out of the frazzled Lions; the menacing stares that the redhead bore made him squeak, and he cleared his throat.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry! They ran into us while His Highness was changing--”

“While he was changing?” Dedue and Ingrid looked like they were about to have a stroke.

“I-It’s a long and,” Sylvain looked at The Hand, “painful story, but what’s important is that they didn’t see him! All thanks to Yours Truly.”

“You were a blubbering idiot. The only reason why (F/N) didn’t bother questioning you further was because she was too tired to care.” Felix joined in, the permanent scowl on his features deepening.

“Felix!” Sylvain’s countenance lit up joyfully before hazing into confusion. “Wait, I thought you were gonna freshen up before heading to dinner.”

“I don’t need to. Hardly broke a sweat during training.”

“W-What?! How?!”

“I guess you wouldn’t understand, seeing as how your only form of exercise is chasing after anything that wears a skirt.”

Sylvain’s eyes took on a glossy, hollow quality as the Lions hollered in laughter.

“Uh... So Sylvain, where’s His Highness?” Asked Annette, having expected him to walk in.

“Oh, he ran back to his quarters to put his clothes away. He should be coming back any minute now.”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

After neatly hanging his uniform in his closet and giving himself a quick once-over in the mirror, he gave himself one last pep talk before swinging the door open and--

Seeing the side of your head as you idly engaged in conversation with a fellow student.

Oh Sothis, help him.

As quickly (and loudly) as he opened the door, he closed it and promptly went back inside to scream into his pillow. Where in the world did you even come from? Weren’t you supposed to be ‘freshening up?’ Your quarters weren’t even down this hallway; what in the Goddess’s name were you even doing here?

He pressed his ear further into the door, straining to pick up bits and pieces of your conversation in hopes to inform himself on your sudden visitation. Nothing. All he could hear was muffled banter bouncing between either of you-- muffled banter that didn’t sound like it was going to end any time soon. He screamed curses in his head and awkwardly slid down onto the floor, lightly banging his cranium against the solid wooden door.

He desperately wished for someone, anyone to save him.

He sighed while rubbing his temples-- a desperate attempt to quell the arising headache. Dimitri combed through his options, each less viable than the last. After eliminating any and all half-baked ideas of escape, he was face-to-face with the one option he didn’t want to consider.

Sit here and wait until you left.

So Dimitri sat (more like paced) in his room, occasionally pressing his ear against the door in hopes that he didn’t hear your lighthearted banter outside. Why was it the one time he didn’t want to run into you, there you were! Right outside his door. You might as well have come with a giant bow on your head!

The floor beneath him rumbled slightly, pulling him from his thoughts; the even pacing grew stronger and stronger until it stopped just a little ways past his door.

“(F/N).”

Wait... That’s... It’s unmistakable! That has to be--!

“Dedue! Hello!”

“I apologize for the interruption, but I have come to remind you that it is your turn to tend to the greenhouse today.”

A short pause ensued, followed by an audible gasp.

“Wait, yes! You’re right! I’ve completely forgotten, thank you so much for reminding me!”

Dimitri heard muffled apologies and goodbyes sputter out of your lips, followed by light footsteps scurrying away. Your former companion proceeded to engage in very light talk with the Duscur man before quickly excusing themselves from the scene; Dedue, glancing down the hall to ensure that no one else was nearby, approached and gently rapped his lord’s door with calloused knuckles.

“Your Highness, you may come out now.”

The inner mechanisms of the door clicked softly, the hesitancy of the room’s occupant translating directly through the brass knob.

“Oh, thank the Goddess you came, Dedue. Frankly, I had given up any hope of escape.” Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

“I knew something was wrong when you did not return. I am glad that I came.” Dedue gave a curt bow.

“Thank you Dedue. Come. Let us head to the dining hall, shall we?”

“Of course, Your Highness. (F/N) should be preoccupied with her greenhouse duties for a time.”

“Yes... Actually, Dedue, how did you know it was (F/N)’s turn to tend to the greenhouse today?”

“Truthfully, Your Highness, I didn’t. It was pure luck she was scheduled today.”

“You mean--” Dimitri’s eyes widened.

“Yes. That was just a fluke. I have no knowledge of the schedule, other than the times either you or I are assigned.”

“Hah!” Dimitri’s hand landed on his retainer’s shoulder. “What luck! After hearing that, I can not help but feel a bit more confident about tonight.”

“And why is that, Your Highness?”

“If fate is as real as the ground beneath us, I would say that, perhaps, (F/N) and I are truly meant to be together.”

“That is quite a romantic notion, Your Highness.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Dimitri sighed as they crossed the threshold to the outside. The sun was just starting its descent past the hills; the slowly extinguishing rays of light brushed the sky with vibrant hues of vermilion and marigold.

“Despite that, I can not help but feel... hopeful. And... happy.”

“I am glad that this whole experience has collectively been a pleasant one, Your Highness.” Dedue responded as they neared the dining hall. “You deserve to be happy.”

Dedue’s words echoed in Dimitri’s head, ringing alongside Sylvain’s previous sentiment. Guilt wrung his heart until the familiar pangs of remorse pounded in his chest.

“Do I... Do I really deserve such a thing?”

“Without a doubt, Your Highness.”

“Even after everything that I’ve done... Even after... everything... I still... deserve it?”

“Of course, Your Highness. You deserve to be happy, just like everybody else.”

As the duo ascended the stairs and approached the Lions that were all congregated together for Dimitri’s cause, the prince’s features relaxed and-- just for a moment-- the voices that incessantly plagued his thoughts ceased.

“Thank you, Dedue.”

“I am always happy to help, Your Highness.” Like his prince, Dedue’s rough exterior melted away to reveal a warm, genuine smile.

“Hey, there you are!” Sylvain bounded up to them, meeting them halfway across the platform. “We were gettin’ worried about you! What happened?”

After Dimitri and Dedue explained what transpired, Sylvain couldn’t help but laugh at the terrible wonderful luck that Dimitri possessed.

"Dedue really got you out of a tough spot, huh?”

“As he always does.” Dimitri cast a grateful look at his retainer.

“I was shocked when I learned that (F/N) was actually scheduled today.”

“What were you gonna do if she wasn’t?” Sylvain queried.

Dedue paused thoughtfully.

“Perhaps I could have asked her to help me weed the courtyard, or to tend the horses.”

“Fair enough.” Sylvain nodded. “Well, it’s getting late so people are starting to leave the dining hall. Hopefully by the time (F/N) is done tending the plants, you two will be all alone.”

Sylvain wriggled his eyebrows and peered cheekily at the reddening face of the prince.

“Please do not be so nervous, Your Highness. (F/N) will surely appreciate all the effort you had put in.”

“Yeah!” Sylvain propped an arm on Dimitri’s shoulder. “Remember what I told you, Your Highness? You’re the leader of the Blue Lions! Start actin’ like your namesake! You gotta be bold!”

“R-Right. Bold.” Truthfully, Dimitri looked anything but; however, this only prompted a deluge of much-needed encouragement and hype that the two happily supplied-- Sylvain taking a more... fiery approach to his psyching while Dedue slightly doused the ecstatic flames set by the redhead with more grounded assurances.

“Now remember, Your Highness. Look her in the eyes, smile, and tell her that she’s beautiful. Like this!” Sylvain turned to Dedue, who suddenly became an unwilling participant in the playboy’s example.

“Hey, babe. You look gorgeous tonight. I gotta admit, I’m no mathematician, but I can still see you’re a ten outta ten.”

“Please get away from me ... Thank you, Sylvain.”

Dimitri stared at the duo with a confused fixed smile plastered on his face. The gears in his head took their sweet, sweet time to churn and process the cursed pick-up line, but it eventually clicked.

“Hah! I get it now! That’s a great one, Sylvain. I’ll definitely remember that.”

A flush of pride stained Sylvain’s cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Thanks! Oh, here’s another one. This one’s also super popular with the ladies.”

Sylvain cleared his throat and turned to Dedue, who was quietly trying to shuffle away.

“Hey, hun. Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.”

“If that is the case, perhaps it would be in your best interest to stop looking at me.” Dedue lightly glared. Dimitri’s eyes crinkled gleefully.

“Ah, these are all wonderful! I look forward to using them on (F/N).”

“Great! But remember Your Highness-- too much of a good thing is a bad thing. You can’t just spout a couple lines like that and expect her to fall for you instantly. You gotta do it tastefully.”

“Tastefully... Got it.”

Dimitri nodded his head, soaking and digesting this newfound knowledge. His eyes suddenly shot up, excitement bubbling out of its watery depths.

“Oh! It appears that I have come up with something!”

“Go for it, Your Highness!”

“I’ve got no taste, but I’d still like a bite of you.”

. . .

. . .

. . .

“Sylvain?”

. . .

. . .

“Dedue?”

. . .

“... Perhaps the map one wasn’t so terrible after all.”

“You said it, Dedue.”

“Wha--! Surely it wasn’t that atrocious, was it?”

“I believe it would serve His Highness well if you taught him more pick-up lines, Sylvain.”

“Sure. Whatever it takes to keep him from saying stuff like that.”

“H-Hey!!!”

♠ ♥ ♣ ----------------------------------------------------------- ♣ ♥ ♠

After sprinkling the few remaining drops of water onto a patch of slightly wilting plants, you dropped the empty watering can with a clatter and threw your arms high above your head, stretching all the bundles and ties that knotted in your shoulders. Your stomach gurgled and a pulse of hunger radiated throughout your core. Perhaps it wasn’t the brightest idea to completely skip your meals.

You placed the watering can in the shed and, making sure everything was as orderly as it could be, stalked out of the greenhouse while still massaging the few stubborn knots that remained tied in your muscles. The sun had long disappeared below the horizon; whatever light remained served only as a prelude to the beginnings of a starry night.

A nippy breeze nibbled your exposed skin, contrasting the slightly humid atmosphere that you’ve grown accustomed to in the greenhouse. Teeth chattering and tummy churning, you hastened your feet to move faster to the brightly lit dining hall.

As you approached the door, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the hall was practically empty, save for some guards and faculty sneaking in a nightly snack-- but even they didn’t linger for long. As you were racking your brain for ideas on what to eat, you walked into the warm building; the ambrosial aroma of succulent, roasted duck caught your attention immediately.

To say that you didn’t shed a small tear from the experience would be a lie.

You scouted and scoured the kitchen for the fowl of your dreams, but it eluded you. Where in the world could this duck--

“A-Ahem.”

You had come dangerously close to collapsing from shock.

Your body jumped and slowly turned around to face the owner of the voice.

“Good evening, (F/N). You look as radiant as ever.”

A young man wearing a white suit decorated with small pins and medals stood before you. Gloved, quivering fingers delicately brushed the lone strands of hair that slipped onto his forehead to the side.

“D-Dimitri...? Is that you?”

“Ah y-yes, it is I. Please forgive me if I had surprised you.”

“N-Not at all!” You replied, your cognitive processes hiccuping at the sight of this magnificent angel. The light from the torch gently surrounded the prince with an almost ethereal quality, rendering him simply divine. The corner of his lips turned up slightly, pulling his handsome features into a half-smirk.

“Please, allow me to escort you to our table.”

“O-Okay...”

He took a step towards you and his eyes flickered down; you followed his gaze and saw his slightly shaking hand slowly reaching for yours.

“May I...?”

Whether it was a simple case of the jitters or the excitement bubbling from within, it didn’t matter much as you enthusiastically clasped your hand in his. Dimitri froze in place, every muscle in his being stiffening at that small point of contact. However, he managed to get his racing pulse (somewhat) under control-- just enough to pull you into a stiff walk at least.

“Please follow me, (F/N).”

The pounding in Dimitri’s heart found its way into his ears, drumming and thundering an aggressive beat. He never knew that fear and glee could intertwine so readily with one another-- until he felt your hand gently press into his palm. Worries and questions and warmth spurred his thoughts into a hazy flurry of emotion. Was he squeezing too hard? Was he holding your hand correctly? Were you at all uncomfortable? Oh Goddess, you look so beautiful when you smile like that--

“Ah! Dimitri, what is all this?”

“W-Well,” Dimitri swallowed what felt like a boulder, “it is our dinner.”

“Our... Dinner...?”

“Yes. Um...” His locked fingers reluctantly separated from yours. “We have prepared a roasted duck, a fine, savory pastry called ‘garlic bread,’ a simple salad, and baked sweets made by Mercedes. I pray this is enough to whet your appetite.”

“You whet my appetite Everything looks so good...” You swallowed thickly, eyes resting heavily on the succulent fowl. “Heh, well... I actually didn’t eat at all today, so--”

“I beg your pardon?!” You blinked and immediately found yourself sitting in front of the palatable entrees. Dimitri’s countenance-- full of concern and tinged with anger-- stared at you from across the sea of food.

“You mustn’t skip meals. That is terribly unhealthy for you.”

“You’re one to talk, Dimitri!” You laughed. “You skip meals all the time!”

Dimitri’s visage fell and his entire face took on all shades of red.

“I... admit, I am not one to berate you on this matter, but regardless, I ask that you still heed my warnings... You should never skip meals.”

Giggling to yourself, you rested your chin on folded hands and your head tilted slightly. That, combined with your killer smile and rosy cheeks, introduced Dimitri’s palpitating heart to a livelier pace.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do my best not to skip meals.”

“Urgh-- Yes! Please... don’t.”

Your lips curved into a smile and your eyes lustily darted to the food in front of you.

“Well, let’s dig in, shall we?”

You, of course, immediately reached for the duck-- as did Dimitri.

Your hands collided en route to the silver cutlery by the fowl, and a fountain of apologies spewed out of either of you. Dimitri, somehow managing to awkwardly bounce back from the innocent error, cleared his throat and took this opportunity to impress you with his... gentlemanly charms.

“Please excuse me, (F/N). Allow me to cut a slice for you.”

“Oh! Well, um... sure?”

Dimitri’s fingers rounded the shiny handles of the knife and fork before cutting into the tender meat. Delectable smells spilled forth from the bird, eliciting a growl from your stomach-- a... very, very loud growl. A growl that was loud enough for Dimitri to stop and look up.

“Uh... I’d like to apologize...” You mumbled ashamedly, your cheeks growing hot to the touch.

Dimitri chuckled, slipping a thick slice of duck onto your plate along with a small bushel of salad, a few pieces of garlic bread, and some sweets.

“Do not worry, my Beloved. I know you haven’t eaten all day.”

You smiled, graciously accepting your plate filled to the brim with food. You cut the slice of meat into more manageab--

Wait...

‘Beloved?’

It seemed that Dimitri realized his mistake around the same time you did.

“Dimitri--”

“Er, (F/N)! Aside from this morning, how was your day?”

“Huh? I-I mean it was fine, but Dimitri--”

“Ah, splendid! I am glad your day had gotten better. I was really worried when you suddenly left class like that.”

“Dimitri,” you cut in, “did you just call me... your... ‘Beloved?’“

Dimitri simply sat there as his brain was fried and shriveled into a crisp.

“W-Well, uh, I-- You see-- I deeply apologize for-- That was, very inappropriate of me--”

“Oh! No, no, it’s okay... Um, I was just a bit surprised is all.” You brought your cup to your lips in a pathetic attempt to cover the bashful grin that threatened to escape.

“Ah... Of course...” Dimitri stabbed a small tomato with the prongs of his fork and shoveled it into his mouth, his cheeks seeming to absorb the color of the little red berry.

You cleared your throat and thumbed the surface of a macaron with light fingers, a heavy silence blanketing the table. The quietly screaming royal took a bite of some garlic bread, his brain hardly processing the soft, fluffy texture of the dish.

Dimitri’s eyes widened inconspicuously, his mind flashing to the one thing that could save this dumpster fire of a date from certain demise--

His pick-up lines.

He could only pray that you were a fan of such things.

He cleared his throat and borderline slammed his fists onto the table, rocking a handful of mini cupcakes from their tiered seats. You quite literally jumped in your seat and got caught in the fierce stare of your house leader.

He can do this.

Come on, Dimitri! Remember your training with Sylvain!

He can do this.

Be a lion! Be bold!

He can do this!

“A-Are you ten? Because y-you look lost and I’d like to bite you.”

. . .

. . .

. . .

If-- in that moment-- Dimitri were to suddenly be thrown onto the path of a charging chariot, he would make no effort to move.

Simultaneously, you were well on your way to combusting into open flames-- if your swiftly coloring cheeks were any indication of that.

Neither of you spoke for a long time, gawking at the other in a silent, unconscious contest to see who could reach strawberry red first.

And Dimitri was the unwilling winner.

“I--”

“You--”

“I am so--”

“What did you--?”

“I am so, so sorry--”

“You want to bite me--?”

“Oh Goddess, I am so sorry (F/N)-- I can explain--”

“U-Um, perhaps it would be best for me to go...”

“Wait!” Dimitri shot out of his seat with a clatter. “I-- um--”

“Goodnight, Dimitri.”

You made a mad dash for the door, leaving the flustering royal a metaphoric fish out of water.

“(F/N)!”

He tailed after you, the delicious food that he and all the other Lions labored to prepare becoming a distant memory.

The sun and any trace of it had all but vanished from sight, replaced by its nightly counterpart. You were speed walking to the stairs when your wrist was snagged by a firm grip.

"(F/N)...!”

“Dimitri, listen, I really appreciate the food and everything, but I really should get going now--”

“Wait, please! I...” He gulped, finally throwing caution to the wind. “I love you.”

Your heart had stopped beating altogether and your lungs ceased operations. Your clenched jaw prohibited you from speaking, and you simply stared at him as those three simple words resonated in your mind.

“Er, that is to say...” He sighed, resignation taking hold of his features. “Can we... talk about this please?”

He loosely pointed to a nearby bench shaded under a tall tree. His hard grip softened, moving to interlace his fingers with yours as he led the two of you to the secluded spot. He sat with a deep exhale and pulled you beside him.

“(F/N).” He gazed at you steadily, his fingers rubbing shallow circles into your hands. “It is no exaggeration on my end to say that you mean everything to me. I-- along with the other Lions-- labored to make tonight the best it could be. Though truthfully, I never imagined my confession would turn out like this. But alas...”

Dimitri chuckled tiredly then sighed.

“I’m afraid I can’t hide my feelings for you a moment longer. I love you, (F/N). With all of my being. You motivate me to work harder, train harder-- to be a better man. You are so kind, and smart, and... absolutely mesmerizing. I can not keep my eyes off you, really.”

He laughed at your sheepish response then continued.

“You mean the world to me. So... I humbly ask that you... Um...” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “Be mine.”

A gentle breeze swept through, carrying his small plea along with it. He stared at you, intensely and unblinkingly, with bated breath.

“Although,” he added, pain thinly veiled in his eyes, “if you do not feel the same way, I understand. I promise I will not hold anything against you. If it’s not too much trouble, I... I hope we can still be friends after all this--”

You dove straight into Dimitri’s arms, effectively knocking his words and the air right out of him. You felt his muscles tighten and the thumping in his chest blared loudly in your ears. You nuzzled your face into him and looked up, smiling.

“I love you too, Dima!”

D-Dima...?!

Poor Dimitri looked like he was about to choke. The little streams of moonlight that slipped through the holes in the trees reflected off of the prince’s reddening face; for a long time, all he could do was stare at you-- cheeks darkening and eyes widening.

Finally, the Goddess re-granted him the ability to speak.

“R-Really...?”

“Yes! Yes, I do!” Your arms moved from his torso to snake around his neck, pulling him a bit more to your level. “I love you, Dimitri. I’ve loved you for so long...”

You drew him into a hug again, burying your face in the crook of his neck. The crisp, sharp scent of his cologne flooded your senses, sending pleasant tingles and goosebumps throughout your body. You felt the prince’s arms wound around your frame, pulling you closer to his racing heart.

“If this is a dream, I wish to never wake.” He muttered into your hair, thankful that he could appreciate the light apple notes that came from it to the fullest.

“This isn’t a dream, Dimitri.” You whispered against his skin, causing a sweet shiver to run down his spine. “I love you, Dimitri. I love you so, so much...”

“My (F/N)... My Beloved...” He pulled away from you slightly, cupping your cheeks in his hands and brushing it gently. He could hardly contain all the love and pure adoration he held towards you; the way that you and only you reflected in his beautiful eyes showed that. With a gentle smile he pressed his forehead against yours, relishing the moment.

“May I... May I have the honor of kissing you, my love?”

His hot breath tickled your sensitive skin and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sensation, in addition to his endearingly adorable politeness.

“Yes, you may.”

Dimitri’s eyes flickered to your slightly parted, wet lips and leaned closer, his eyes fluttering shut. You followed suit, guided only by the synchronous beating of your hearts. A warmth like no other blossomed upon your lips, melting any and all tension into nothingness. Your lips engaged in a clumsy yet heartfelt dance, eliciting an airy chortle out of you.

Dimitri’s chest rumbled with a chuckle of his own and he parted to catch his breath. Not a moment later, his lips found yours again and again, more ravenous than the last. Each kiss left your head spinning faster and your heart wanting more, more, more. His teeth nibbled your bottom lip, drawing out a gasp from you; his fingers found residence in your hair as he slipped his hot tongue into your mouth. He explored your wet cavern excitedly, every one of his senses wracked with newfound pleasure. Your moans and sharp breaths intertwined heatedly, sending your thoughts into a frenzy and numbing oblivion all at once.

The chatter of guards and metal boots clanking against cobble spurred warning bells in your head, and a painful reminder of how exposed you were for any curious passerby. Dimitri reluctantly leaned away, still pressing his lips to yours until the last possible moment.

“Ahem... M-My apologies... I got a little too excited just now...” Dimitri panted, a dazed yet elated expression on his face. You, panting as hard as he, shook your head in response and pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead, down to his nose, his cheek, and finally stopping at his flushed, pink lips.

“Not a problem, Dimitri. I know you mentioned you wanted to bite me.” You gazed at him teasingly.

“T-That’s...” Dimitri sighed, burying his face in your neck to hide his blush (though how hot his skin felt against yours was all the confirmation you needed). “Please don’t tell anyone what I said...”

You snickered and patted his head, smiling when you felt him relax into your touch.

“Okaaay, I promise.”

“Good. Thank you, (F/N).”

He pulled away from your neck and adjusted himself into a more comfortable seating position. He securely placed his arm around your shoulder and you both sat in comfortable silence for a long time.

“It’s getting quite late, no?” Dimitri mumbled out of the blue. “Allow me to walk you back to your room.”

“Actually, Dima... Do you think we can go back and finish dinner? I’m still really hungry...”

“O-Oh! I have completely forgotten about that! Yes, of course we can. Although... Regrettably, our food would have gotten cold by now.”

“That’s okay. Being with you warms my heart anyways.”

“Ah-- Um--” Dimitri coughed, looking away. “I confess that your teasing will take some getting used to... But it is a pleasant thing nonetheless.”

You giggled as he stood up and helped you to your feet.

”Hey, Dimitri?”

“Yes, my Beloved?”

“I love you.”

Dimitri planted a soft kiss on your forehead and stared fondly into your eyes.

”I love you too, (F/N).”

bonus: despite swearing to himself that he would *never* use pick-up lines ever again (its powers being too great for any mortal to fully wield), dimitri would still indulge a line or two for you if you asked him hard enough (and swore on your life you would never divulge what he shared with you to anyone else). and yes, when you two eventually got more comfortable with each other, he did get a bite of you from time-to-time but that’s a story for another day.

[the-wlw-cafe]

Supercorptober - Day 8: Beach

Read it on ao3 here!

The human had strong arms, a loud, unrestrained laugh and kind, blue eyes. Lena had been watching her from afar, quickly darting beneath the foam of the waves should those deep blue eyes flicker too close. She lived alone, as far as Lena could tell, in the old cottage balanced precariously on the cliff overlooking the ocean, spiting the force of its harsh waves crashing against it for generations. Other humans dropped by frequently, humans Lena presumed to be her clan as they didn’t look much alike but touched and talked with the familiarity of kin. Most of the time she  spent alone, however, standing out on the cliff by her easel, committing the facets of her home to paper. Sometimes, she’d spend hours out there, and occasionally she’d get so lost in thought hours would pass between the masterful strokes of her brush, until a sudden rain shower sent her scrambling to pack up her artwork. Her name is Kara.

Yes, Lena thought, this one will do.

She couldn’t put it off any longer. Desperation and hunger had driven her into the darker waters a day ago, where her brother’s lackeys were already out on the prowl for her. The second Lex had come to power in her clan he’d made sure to remove all those who had a claim for clan leadership, no matter how miniscule, and in his paranoia he must have put a price on her coat, as if she’d ever come back. As if there was anything there for her.

I don’t miss it, she told herself as the currents carried the tunes of singing whales to her ears, miles away, barely audible, I don’t, I don’t, I don’t!

She waited until the moon has long since dipped below the horizon, until the rest of Kara’s clan had said their goodbyes and the stench of their engines no longer lay in the air like a suffocating blanket. Then, she rose from the sea, her legs still unsure, her coat, silver and dotted in darker spots glinting in the moonlight, and made her way to the cottage. The air already burned in her lungs as she followed the path that lead to Kara’s front door, but she supposed she had ample time left to until the pain would turn debilitating enough to force her back into the water. There was still a light on in one of the rooms, and the sound of soft humming reached Lena’s ears. She was not following a particular melody, but it’s soft and domestic in a way that made Lena smile despite herself. She took one last look at the ocean, the waves crashing against the shores with such fervour that she could feel the drops land on her face whenever they reached particularly high, then she raised her hand to knock against the front door. The humming stopped in an instant, replaced with the sound of footsteps thundering down a creaky stairway before the door was wrenched open.

“Don’t tell me you forgot your keys again, Alex”, she began, only to trail off, wide eyed, when she took in Lena’s form. Her mouth opened and closed, much like an anchovy. The wind picked up with a violent howl, and Lena couldn’t suppress a shiver, the bare skin not covered by the coat loosely draped over her shoulders wet and freezing. At least the sight of Lena shivering in the night seemed to shake Kara out of her paralysis.

“Oh my gosh!” she squeaked. “Come in, you’ll freeze to death!”

The blonde reached out to her, as if to usher her inside, but changed her mind before she could touch her, her arm now awkwardly outstretched waiting for Lena to enter. Lena gave her a grateful smile and made her way inside. It was warmer there, embers glowing in the fireplace, but the air was much dryer than outside, making Lena heave and cough, her body bending under the force of it, tears springing to her eyes. Her head was spinning, she reached forward blindly to find something, anything to hold onto. A steady hand found her, held her upright, another brushing her hair back while she continued to cough. When it finally subsided, Lena looked up through wet strands of inky hair and saw worry clearly etched into the human’s face. For all the stories she’d heard about cruel humans trapping her kind and binding them to the land, this one didn’t seem like the worst choice to be stuck with.

Then again, as her history with Lex had shown, maybe Lena wasn’t the best judge of character.

“Thank you”, she croaked, her voice rough as dry sand.

“You need to get out of your wet clothes”, Kara said, still touching her back in a gesture that would have been comforting if her words hadn’t reminded Lena of what she was here to do. She could still hear the waves steadily breaking against the rocks outside, calling her back to a home she was about to forsake. She took a final breath, closed her eyes, and stepped out of her coat, making a show of draping it over the back of one of the chairs arranged around the dinner table. A choked sound from Kara caught her attention, and when Lena turned to face her she found that the human had turned around, staring pointedly at the wall.

“Right, yes”, she stuttered, “I’ll just...go and get you some of my clothes to wear. They’ll be a bit big on you, but they’re warm and dry and I’ll just...go now.”

She stumbled up the stairs, still refusing to look at Lena, and fled to what she presumed was her room. Now left to her own devices, Lena had a tentative around the room. Kara’s clan had left it quite a mess, tableware and other knick-knacks strewn around, a considerable mountain of what seemed to be leftover food piled up on the counter. It was food completely foreign to Lena, who was used to the fish and seal they hunted and the occasional plundered nest of sea-fowl should the season allow it. Yet the smell of it was so strange and enticing, and as if on queue her stomach gave a mighty growl reminding her how famished she was. Her feet had carried her towards the leftovers before she even knew it. She picked one of them up, a crispy golden-brown exterior smelling deliciously aromatic and still faintly of the sea. She took a careful nibble, and when a litany of tastes exploded across her tongue she indulged herself and took a bigger bite, then a second, and a third…

“Um”, said Kara from behind her in a high-pitched voice. Lena froze with one of the morsels halfway to her mouth, sudden panic flooding her system at the thought of how the human might react when she discovered her stealing her food, only to find Kara similarly paralysed, one hand clapped over her eyes, a deep red flush on her cheeks. “I have your clothes right here, why don’t you go ahead and change in the bathroom, it’s right down the hall.”

Lena took the neatly folded clothes from her hand, stifling a giggle at how the human stood there, eyes shut so tightly it made her nose scrunch up in a frankly adorable way, and made her way to the bathroom, suddenly self-conscious about the wet footprints she left behind. The human garments were downright flimsy compared to her heavy coat, but they were warm and dry and smelled fresh like a gust of spring wind. Lena spent a few seconds pressing them to her nose and inhaling the scent before finally putting them on.

When she returned her eyes immediately flickered over to where she’d left her coat, and she was surprised to find it still hanging there. Then again, this human probably didn’t want to be caught in the act of hiding it, waiting instead for Lena to be asleep. She found Kara sitting on a soft armchair at the fireplace, waving at her and gesturing for her to sit down at the armchair directly across. Lena did, enjoying the feeling of sinking into the plush surface.

“Here”, Kara said, pressing a steaming mug of a light brown, sweet smelling liquid into her hands, “this should warm you right up.”

Lena held the mug with both hands, pressing it close to her chest and drawing her knees up under her chin. It felt like one of the volcanic vents Lena had seen on a visit to the Deep Clans, only it could fit in her hands. At Kara’s encouraging smile, she took a small sip, eyes never leaving the human. She seemed nervous, as if preparing herself for a difficult conversation. The moment came when Lena had drank half of her mug, and Kara hesitantly asked:

“Are you...okay?”

Lena cocked her head to the side, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I mean, do you need me to call anyone? Family, friends or...oh shoot, I never even asked if you are hurt! Are you hurt? Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?”

Lena smiled, shaking her head.

“No, thank you. You’ve already been very kind to me”, she said, softly, her eyes trained on the floor in a perfect impression of the sort of naive, demure girls that got themselves caught and bound by humans in the stories she’d been told since she was a child.

Kara furrowed her brow, creating a deep crinkle on her forehead.

“Are you sure? Because I’ll help you, no matter what.”

Of course you would. Of course you’d do anything to make me stay, to give you enough time to steal my coat and hide it. The words burned on Lena’s tongue like bitter bile, but she swallowed them back down. Instead she smiled meekly, playing along.

“I’ve already imposed on you so much, and I understand if it’s too much to ask, but might I stay here for the night?”

“Of course”, Kara said. “I don’t have a guest room, but you can take my bed – I’ll take the couch, don’t worry!”

Lena finished her sweet drink to hide her scowl at how obvious the human’s attempts to separate her from her coat were.

“Thank you”, she said, putting the empty mug on the table in front of her and standing up. She just wanted to get it over with before she had another chance to change her mind.

“Wait!” Kara called after her, making Lena stop in her tracks. “If you need anything, anything at all, you can ask me, okay?” She sounded so sincere, and her impossibly blue eyes were almost pleading.

“Lena”, she answered after a short while. At Kara’s bewildered expression, she added: “If I am to stay here, you should at least know my name.”

A bright smile spread over Kara’s face in response. “It’s nice to meet you, Lena. I’m Kara.”

Lena acknowledged Kara with a nod of her head and a tired smile of her own.

“Goodnight, Kara.”

She lay awake in the soft embrace of Kara’s sheets, making as little sound as possible, listening for any rummaging, the front door opening maybe, but all she could hear was the sound of tableware being put away and eventually Kara’s quiet humming, which lulled her to sleep.

She woke to a searing pain in her chest, her lungs burning with every laboured breath she tried to force into them. She rolled off of the bed in a blind panic, the pain bringing tears to her eyes and blurring her vision. But how could that be? Why did it still hurt if she had a keeper? She stumbled down the stairs, eyes wild, darting to the chair where she’d left her coat – it was gone. Then why did it hurt so much?

Kara lay sprawled across the couch, asleep through the commotion, the fire had long since died down, and -

Ah. The chair stood there, next to the fire, in order to get it to dry faster. Lena couldn’t expend much thought to the significance of the action, as she was hit with another coughing fit, and as she pulled the hand from her mouth it came away red and wet. She grabbed her coat and stormed out of the front door, leaving it wide open behind her. Blindly she let her legs carry her towards the sound of the roiling ocean, crawling the last steps before she finally slipped beneath the water’s surface, the cool liquid filling her lungs and soothing the stabbing pain.

She found the spear in the late afternoon, wedged too tightly into a crevice in the stony reefs to have been forgotten there. Around it’s shaft a patchy brown coat lazily floated on the currents. She knew who it belonged to, Adam, a young member of her clan. She’d known him, she’d even been fond of him, which is why he now served as a warning to her. The shallows were no longer safe.

She was back at Kara’s door the same night, carrying the clothes she’d thoughtlessly taken from her house, sopping wet but neatly folded. There was no humming this time, but she could hear Kara all but sprinting to the door the second her first knock rang out. Maybe she needed further encouragement to keep her, maybe she truly hadn’t wanted to force Lena to stay against her will. She hung her coat by the door this time, next to Kara’s worn jacket. It’s yours if you want it.

“I was worried when you left before I got up last night”, Kara said, after she’d given her another change of clothes.

“I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

The words were spoken with a tenderness so profound Lena couldn’t help but believe her.

“Do you want to join me for dinner?”, Kara asked, the hopeful upturn to her voice unmistakable. “I accidentally made way too much pasta and it would be a shame if it went to waste.”

Lena was ravenous, the shallows providing little to no food for her, especially now that she had to lay low because Lex’ hunters were constantly on the lookout for her. She gladly took place at the table where she found a plate already set for her. She was too hungry to care about how she gorged herself on the food offered to her.

“Why did you come here, Lena?”

Lena was suddenly glad she had her mouth full with human food, chewing and swallowing afforded her some time to think about her answer.

“I had a fallout with my family”, she eventually settled on. It was as close to the truth as she dared to venture. Not everyone would willingly harbour a fugitive.

“Did they kick you out?”

“Something like that.”

“Geez, Lena, I’m so sorry. That’s awful! If you want to, I can call some of my friends to see if they could help you find your feet again. I’m pretty sure Alex and Kelly are about to move in together, I bet they’ll let you sleep in the spare apartment until you find your feet.” Kara beamed at her, so excited to have found a way to help her, but the thought of being further away from the ocean made her lungs ache in protest. The demure I wouldn’t want to impose was already on Lena’s tongue, but she decided against it.

“No”, she stated firmly. “I appreciate all you’ve done, and if you want me to leave you in peace I understand, and I will honour your wishes, but this isn’t the right step for me.”

Kara sunk into herself with a sigh. “If you’re sure. And if you change your mind, you can always -”

“I am sure.” There was a certain finality to her words, and the rest of the dinner passed in a tense silence.

“Do you still want to spend the night here?” Kara asked in a small voice after she’d finished her plate.

“If you’ll still have me.” Lena wasn’t sure of it, not after her outburst. She didn’t regret it, far from it, it needed to be said. But a part of her feared that if Lena deviated too much from the script set by the cautionary tales she grew up with, Kara would no longer want to keep her. Under normal circumstances she’d have said good riddance and left it at that, not wasting a single tear on a person who didn’t want her for her authentic self, if with Kara she weren’t also ridding herself of the one chance at safety she had.

“Always”, Kara replied without a second of hesitation, reaching out to take Lena’s icy hands in her own warm palms and giving them a gentle squeeze.

She woke to the same burning pain and her coat draped over the chair by the fireplace. This time, there was a little plastic box balanced on top of it, containing bread and eggs and crispy strips of bacon that already made Lena’s mouth water, and on top of it a crude approximation of a smiling face next to the words breakfast is important. Lena was overcome with a sudden wave of affection for Kara that almost made her knees buckle, and pushed the excruciating sensation out of her mind for just a second.

She kept coming back, because where else would she go? And every time, infuriatingly so, Lena would find her coat in the exact same spot by the fireplace. She became more brazen with each night she spent in the house, going from hanging her coat next to Kara’s to stowing it away in her wardrobe to throwing it on the floor directly in front of her room, because no matter how much it pained her to see the coat, her very own fur, lying discarded in the dust, she was running out of ideas in order to make Kara notice it. In time, it started feeling less like courtesy on Kara’s part and more like rejection. And that would be fine, Lena would be fine, if Kara didn’t also do things like let her gaze flicker to her lips in conversation too many times for it to be a coincidence, if she didn’t blush a bright scarlet whenever the coat slipped off Lena’s body, and if she didn’t do such intimate things as to show Lena her art room with all her completed works. Nearly all of them were studies of the ocean, each with such attention to detail and lighting Lena almost believed she was seeing it through the eyes of someone who loved it as ardently as herself. She also caught a glimpse of some black and white drawings, detailed studies of a harsh jawline and a familiar pattern of freckles trailing down a throat. That was all she could recognize before Kara had all but thrown herself over her works in order to block them from view, rambling about them not being ready yet.  Lena would have an easier time accepting Kara’s rejection if she didn’t do things like invite her to join sister’s night.

“Not that you’re my sister, it’s just that you’re here every night, and I really like having you here, and I don’t know if you have anywhere else to go, so feel free to stop by! Alex won’t mind, in fact, she really wants to meet you after all I’ve told her about you.”

“I appreciate the invitation, I truly do, but I’d rather not”, Lena said and tried not to take the hurt look in Kara’s eyes to close to heart. She didn’t tell Kara the reason for her reluctance, as she feared it might upset her further: She didn’t know her, and she didn’t trust a stranger around her coat. Oh, is that so? A cold voice in the back of her head sneered. I thought you wanted to be bound to the land.

She knew the answer, of course, she knew it clear as day: She wasn’t Kara. And Lena wanted no-one but Kara.

She ended up crashing sister’s night anyway, but not of her own volition. It was in fact the tip of the spear that had broken off in her flesh somewhere around her hip. She was bleeding heavily and couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking to take it out, even after the actual danger had long since passed as she made it onto land to escape the hunting party of four that had found her. By the time she reached the cottage her coat was drenched in blood, and it was dripping down her bare leg. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was Kara’s overjoyed expression upon seeing Lena at the door morph into one of abject horror, then she could feel her legs giving out from beneath her.

What happened next was a blur to her, she thought she saw Kara carry her coat upstairs as her sister, Alex, all efficiency and professionalism, moved her to the couch. She remembers a searing pain as they removed the jagged tip of the spear from inside her, the horrible burn of the disinfectant and through it all Kara, holding her steady, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words as she drifted in and out of consciousness, and long after Alex had left.

When Lena came to again, the deep cut in her side had been sown shut, and Kara was still holding her, humming gently, her lips so close to her she could feel her breath ghosting over the shell of her ear. She wanted, needed them closer.

“You can kiss me, y’know?”, she slurred, her voice thick.

The humming abruptly stopped, as did the hand playing with her hair.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to. You have at least five separate studies of my lips hidden in your room.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. You’re in a vulnerable position and-”

“I want you to kiss me. Don’t make me beg, darling”, she muttered, turning to face the blonde and gritting her teeth against the sting of her wound.

Lena extended a hand and caressed Kara’s jaw as the blonde blinked rapidly, as if to wake herself up from a dream. She followed the line of her jaw to the back of her head, where her fingers splayed in blonde tresses and pulled her down, down to her lips.

Kara kissed her impossibly, almost frustratingly gently, her strong hands holding her as softly as a baby bird, as if she would break if she applied the slightest amount of force. Eventually, when she had to break away for air, her lips trailed over her jaw, to her cheeks, to the shell of her ear and down her neck as she seemed to be possessed by the need to kiss every inch of Lena’s skin that was in reach. It was only when Lena felt the wetness drip against her collarbone when she realized that Kara was crying.

“I wish you didn’t have to go”, she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Lena cupped her cheeks with both her hands, inclining her head upwards, forcing teary blue eyes to meet her green ones.

“It’s up to you, my darling.”

“But it isn’t!” Kara cried out, immediately quieting down after her outburst, placing an apologetic kiss on the freckle on her throat. Lena wanted to grab her shoulders then, to shake some sense into her, but she was so, so tired, and the world was rapidly fading to black.

She found a cave system near the cottage which only flooded during the high tide, leaving her with just enough stale water over the day as to not suffocate. It should buy her at least a few more days of time.

Eventually, they would find her. It was only a matter of when.

“Your coat is so soft”, Kara breathed, her voice awed as her fingers traced through the soft fur. She swallowed.

“May I take it off?”

“Gods, yes, finally!” Lena hissed, prompting a chuckle from Kara.

“Be patient”, she laughed. “I want to take my time with this.”

She was tortuously thorough in her exploration, pushing the coat of her shoulders inch by agonizing inch and trailing hot kisses on Lena’s icy skin whenever more was revealed, until it finally slid to the ground and Kara bent down to pick it up. Lena closed her eyes. If she opened them again and the coat was out of her direct line of sight she’d consider it hidden, she just wanted Kara to keep her, why wouldn’t she just keep her?

“Lena, look!” Kara exclaimed, and out of instinct Lena opened her eyes again.

“Our coats are spooning!” Kara gushed, pointing to Lena’s coat which she had draped over the old grey sweater jacket she wore around the house on her desk chair, grinning proudly. Lena just glared at her, and grabbed her stupid muscular shoulders to crash her stupid pretty lips into hers, pulling her onto the stupid bed.

As Lena drearily watched the crabs scuttle over the algae-covered rocks in her cave she cursed her stupid heart for loving a person who didn’t want to keep her.

The next night, Kara barely made it through hello before Lena had slipped off her coat and pushed it against her chest.

“Take it!” she growled.

“Lena, I don’t-”

“Are you just going to string me along forever?” she accused, hating the way tears were already welling up in her eyes.

“You’ll kiss me, you’ll fuck me, you’ll tell me you love me but you won’t keep me! So just take my coat and hide it and bind me to you!”

“Oh, Lena”, Kara breathed, a barrage of emotions flickering across her face within seconds: confusion, hurt, concern, and something Lena didn’t dare name love, no matter what Kara promised her. “Lena, I’d never force you to stay.”

“But I want you to!”

“No!”

It was the first time Kara had shouted at her. She’d become exasperated, sure, but she’d never tried to shout her down. Instinctively, Lena flinched backwards. Kara’s eyes widened in shock.

“I’m sorry”, she said, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. But I don’t know how to make you see that I can’t take your coat, I can’t take your choice away. If you want to leave, if it is now, or tomorrow, or fifteen years from now, it’s your decision. And if you want to stay, it’s your decision as well. I will never take it away from you. You have to be the one to make that choice.”

“But I want to stay! I want to live here with you, looking out over the ocean, I want to spend lazy mornings with you and doze in the sun on the three days of the year it actually shines, and I want you to introduce me to your people and I want to utterly embarrass them and you and probably myself to by being as sickeningly in love as I am with you, I want to stay with you until we’re old and grey and this whole cliff finally crumbles into the ocean!”

The words had come spilling out of her like a flash flood, and she had to take a deep breath at the end of her speech. She was properly crying now, but she also felt better than before, lighter, as if a weight had been lifted of her chest, an actual, physical weight. She took another breath and then there was clarity, so sudden and intense she had to sit down: It didn’t hurt. The constant ache that had accompanied her every breath on land had faded into nothingness.

“Kara”, she breathed, and as the blonde bent down to take her hand her skin didn’t feel almost scalding in contrast to Lena’s icy cold skin anymore, just pleasant warmth on warmth.

“Kara...I’m staying. I’ve made my choice, and I’m staying with you.”

Lena’s coat now hangs next to the door again, ready to be taken should Lena ever so desire. It’s been years now, decades even, and she’d never even entertained the thought for a second, bit every now and then her eyes flicker over to it, and every time it reminds her:

She made the right choice.

[antwine69]

Beej X male reader who works in a funeral home 🥺😳

Holy moly this is such a cute concept 🥺🥺💞

Male!Reader

⚠️Warnings: Mentions of death, Beej being generally raunchy and kinda insentitive, mentions/of dead bodies, side-character death! ⚠️

----------

It had all started on an unusually cold day in Spring. You were in the Funeral Home, a morbid part-time job that you had to take just to get through the day. Though, it had its own "Dark Academia aesthetic" to it, so it wasn't a bad. Plus, you got more and more desensitized to death every day!

You waved goodbye to the family that had just come in here to arrange some things for their dead "Pop-Pop", as the kid they brought in had called him. Poor thing, it couldn't have been more than five years old. It probably didn't have much of a grasp of what had happened to "Pop-Pop". She didn't know he was dead, lying in the back, in a cold casket so they could bring him out in a car tomorrow, and stick him in the ground. You sat down in your swivel chair behind the counter, spinning slightly in it. The shop was quiet, nothing but the wind swooshing by outside and the constant ticking of the clock could be heard echoing through the establishment.

You sighed, deciding to go to the back to see if Margaret, your co-worker who was probably older than most of the bodies here, had left anything for you before she left. She usually did that, because she would always look at you and say "Young man! You need to get some meat on those bones! Let Nana Margie fix you up something!" You weren't even that thin. She was a delight, though. Her husband had passed away some time ago, and she came into this establishment crying, and came out with a job there. She was sort of everybody's grandmother. The thought that she might not have much time left made her so giving, you thought you might never meet a more generous person in your life.

You went into the employee kitchen, seeing a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap, with a bright green sticky note on it.

"For you, Young Man! It's Friday! Enjoy yourself :)

-Nana

Ps. Could you check the rat trap in the back, my old knees don't seem to wanna listen when I wanna crouch down there! Thank you, darling <3"

You laughed a little, opening the plastic wrap and taking a cookie. You also pocketed the note, a tendency you had picked up after a while, so that one day you could make a scrap book for her. She deserved to know she was loved.

You took a bite of the cookie as you went to the back, or "The hall of Death" as you had so dearly nicknamed it. It was where you took the recently deads that were going to be transported to a grave the very next day. You nodded to them as you went along, jokingly addressing them by name. ``Mr. Gale. Mrs. Potts. Mr. Jones.`` You chuckled and crouched down once you got to the back of the room, checking the rat trap. No rats. Margaret's vision was the same, so you couldn't exactly blame her. ``Oh well, Margie, you can never be too sure.`` you said to yourself, giving a chuckle. You stood, about to turn around, when a little jingle sounded throughout the room. A chill ran down your spine as you realised what made the sound. There were bells tied to each of the dead person's feet. They were there to ensure that the dead people were actually dead, and jingled when the dead person moved. It was one of the sounds you would never want to hear in one of these establishments. Fuck.

You turned around, hearing a louder, almost insistent jingle. Mr. Liren in the middle of the room. You swallowed and carefully walked over, spotting a card on Mr. Liren's leg. The bell was jingling like crazy now, but the body wasn't moving. What the hell was going on? You carefully picked up the card, flipping it around. The backside was striped, and was clearly drawn very hastily in sharpie. The moment you stopped to examine the back, the room filled up with jingles. Every bell in the room gave off a symphony of disjointed jingles and some even fell off of the string. You flipped it back to the other side, seeing the text. A shabby drawing of what looked like a beetle, a glass of liquid, and an x3. ``Beetle... Water times three? What the fuck?`` the bells all crashed to the ground and seemingly jumped up and down on their own, jingling and clicking on the ground.

You scrambled your brain, fear getting to you. The water was coloured in. ``Beetle Soda?`` more aggressive jingling. ``fuck... Uh... Beetle.. Juice?`` the bells started jumping up and down rhythmically. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. You swallowed and took a breath. Whatever this was, it wanted you to say this phrase three times. What were you supposed to do? This couldn't just be some prank. It was way too... real. What would this entity do if you didn't oblige? You closed your eyes, clutching the card. ``Beetlejuice.... Beetlejuice.... Beetlejuice.`` The bells stopped. It was quiet. It seemed like the world had just froze. You opened your eyes, looking around. Nothing. Mabye this was a prank. ``What a load of bullsh-`` you were about to swear to yourself or go on a rant or something but it was cut short by the appearance of green smoke at your feet. Yikes.

Slowly, the blanket over Mr. Liren started rising. Somebody was there, and it wasn't Mr. Liren. The room was now almost hidden in thick, green smoke, and the blanket was floating about half a metre above Mr. Liren, clearly with a person under it. All you could do was stare and back up, backing into one of the other dead body tables, slipping on a bell and nearly falling. A cackle tore through the room and the sheet was thrown off and onto the floor in a flash of green light.

``Awe Yeah, Baby! The B-Man's back!`` a raspy voice shrieked, and the smoke parted as a man floated down toward you, grinning. ``Oh, Babes! You really do know how to keep a demon waiting! You're obedient, though, I like my men like that.`` he gave a wink, putting a finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. The demon was wearing a torn, old, black and white striped suit, his hair was an electric green and he looked as though, if he was standing, he'd be just a little taller than you. He must have noticed your confused and lightly flustered look, because he pulled back, letting his eyes rake over you very unsubtly.

``I see you're still confused... Don't worry, Sexy! I'll inform you!`` He yelled, snapping. A ghostly whistle was heard, and somewhere you could hear music that sounded like it should be best suited on a Haunted American Footbal Game. ``Ready! Alright! Let's rock! Hey! Don't look away! This demon's here to make your day! You need a friend? I'm here to help! I'm the B to the Double-E- J - F - Q - And Jesus, I cannot spell.`` he.... Was singing. To you. A weird demon guy was singing and dancing along to spooky Cheerleader music. As if on cue, Cheerleaders ran into the room, flailing their pompoms in your face. You coughed and pushed them away, their grinning faces sending you right back to high school. ``Hi! He's by your side! He-`` before they could do their weird cheer thing, you yelled. A yell you didn't think you had in you. ``Stop! Stop, please..`` the music dragged to a halt, and the cheerleaders looked at you, quite upset. You muttered a "sorry" and they walked off. The demon lowered himself to the floor, huffing.

``Can you please just tell me who you are? Without singing? Please?`` You asked, still trying to calm your nerves. The demon groaned, giving a toddler like stomp. ``Fine! You already said my name, you should know it! I'm a demon, and you summoned me, just like I wanted and now I'm tied to you and whatever.`` he replied, floating up and laying back in the air, crossing his legs and folding his arms behind his head. You already said his name? ``Wait... Beetlejuice! Your name is Beet-``

Beetlejuice audibly squeaked, rushing down and slamming a hand over your mouth. ``Don't say it! Ever! Bad things will happen!`` he yelled, keeping his hand on your mouth. He smelled like earth and rain that had just hit the warm summer pavement. There was also a distinct scent of dust and mold as he continued to invade your personal space. You frantically nodded and he slowly took his hand away.

``Wait, you're bound to me? What does that mean?`` you asked, moving away from him and picking up the Mr. Liren's sheet, gently putting it over him again. ``Well, it means only you can un-summon me! Duh. This is like, basic demon facts. Is this your first time working with a demon or something?`` he replied, a chuckle running through his voice. You shot him a glare, and he let out an "oh." floating down to the floor.

You sighed, looking at the time. It was closing time. ``We'll deal with this at home.`` you said, walking out of the back room, the striped demon shooting after you like an excited puppy. ``Oh man! You're takin' me home? At least take me on a date first! Ahaha!`` he said, laughing loudly. You just ignored him, turning off all the lights in the shop and putting on your jacket.

``C'mon demon, you have some explaining to do.``

----------

I couldn't help myself but write some headcannons, I just really love this concept a lot! Here they are!

•Beej loves that you work with the dead, and always asks you questions about dead people and is actually pretty vile to some of them

•You often have to tell him that he can't go around pretending to tickle dead people or try to "scare them awake".

•You have to tell him this way too often.

•He often greets people you can't see, and if actually remarkably respectful to them while you're around. He doesn't try to do anything as long as you glare at him, and he just bows slightly to the air and sometimes says things like "Follow the book" or "Draw a door."

•You like to think he's talking to the spirits of the dead people.

•One day you actually get confirmation on this, as, right after Margaret passes away, he comes to you and gives you some papers. His hair is streaked with blue and it's clear he's been crying. There are tear drop marks on the paper, but you can still see just fine what it is. In Beetlejuice's shabby handwriting, there is a recipe. "Nana Margie's cookies (For young men who need to grow)" and "Nana Margie's Chicken Soup (For young men who are sick)" You look at him and get nothing but a sniffle and a "She wanted you to have that. So she could help you grow." You've never hugged anybody so hard in your life. Those recipes are framed and hang in your kitchen. They're used more than you ever thought they would be.

•Slowly, you warm up to Beej. He's a gross, insensitive rat man. But he's your rat man.

Okay it's over now- I just thought this was really cute- So cute that I might make a part 2?? 👀👀

Mabye-

Alright! That's it for this time! Take care of yourself and remember to wash your hands! See y'all Spooky Cheerleaders in the Neitherworld! Peace out!

PS. Sorry for the horrid song lyrics, the regular ones didn't fit the situation, but I still wanted the gag there, so I had to improvise :')

[trying-my-best]

Scp 035 x reader part 10

You let out a depressed sigh, it's been about 27 hours since you last slept. You expected this to happen eventually. Back when you worked as a thief for hire you'd have 38 to 52 hour days.

You guessed the reason that you could sleep at the facility before was that they'd give you more to do. Although it wasn't at tiring as breaking and entering, it was as the only guess you had.

Bach was probably coming to wake you up soon. Giving up on sleep you got dressed and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. You remembered how Bach liked his black with a little sugar.

You heard the cell door slide open and heavy footsteps enter the cell. Bach walks past the kitchen and towards the bedroom. You follow behind him as he opens the bedroom door.

"Alright woman, time to get up." Bach shakes the bed, fully expecting you to rise up and yell at him for shaking the bed. You lean against the door frame casually and waited for him to notice you.

Five minutes pass and he's still yelling at the bed where he thinks you are. Getting bored, you sneak up behind him and give his shoulder a little tap. He jumps and turns around fast, gets startled, and falls down.

"(Y/N)! What are you doing awake?" Bach yells as you help him to his feet.

"I couldn't sleep, I'm still kinda used to 38 to 52 hour days. You remember me telling you about my old job." You turn to leave the room. "Come on, I made us coffee. "

Bach's eyes lit up at the mention of coffee. "You made me coffee? Black with sugar?" You nodded as you entered the kitchen. When you picked up the coffee to hand it to Bach, he swiped it out of your hands, almost spilling it.

You laughed at his excitement for coffee, you were pretty sure that this has to be his fifth cup today. Bach took a sip of his coffee and sighed happily.

"Oh yeah, Dr. Yapp wanted me to tell you to go to his office later and to give you this." Bach reached into his pocket and pulled out a key card. "This will get you around the facility, it'll only open up scp 035's and 049's cells, and it'll get you from light containment to heavy containment. "

"Why 049?"

Bach shrugged. "Well, you got along with him so well the duringone of the breaches. We thought you might want to visit him every now and then"

You took the card from his hand and inspected it. "So now I can leave my room at will?"

"Yep! Also, if you use this card to help any scp escape you will be demoted back to D-class and have all your current privileges revoked. So don't be dumb." Bach used an exaggerated tone for the last sentence.

You thanked Bach before heading towards the cell door to test it out. Approaching the cell door, you held the card to the door panel. It made a loud beep and the door opened. "Nice" you said to no one in particular. "Alright Bach, go start your rounds. I'm going to get ready for the day, then I'll head down to Yapp's office. "

Bach left and closed the door behind him as you walked back to your room. You noticed the plush cat 035 gave you sitting on the bed. You need to give it a name or something, you'll think of one eventually.

You picked out a nice, cute outfit before you went to the bathroom to shower.

*035's cell*

035 had their hands folded under their head as usual. Instead of the usual comedy mask, 035's face was tragedy. Their clearly bored with the normal interview the foundation was putting them through.

They had been promised a visit with (Y/N) and as far as they could tell, they didn't know when or if that was ever going to happen. So far the foundation seemed to only be interested in pestering 035 about their plans with (Y/N) instead of seeing how things unfold.

035 themselves didn't know what they wanted with (Y/N), still stuck between wanting to have them as a companion or having the experience of possessing (Y/N).

The interview had just ended and 035 couldn't be more disinterested. The foolish scientists talking amongst themselves in the observation room.

035 was becoming more impatient and angry. They didn't like not getting what that want. 035 stood up from their chair and walked up to the glass, startling the scientis. "When am I seeing (Y/N)?" 035 demanded with an authority to their voice.

"T-today, here in a c-couple hours. Dr. Yapp just needs to talk to h-her for a bit then she'll be here." One of the scientis squeaked out.

035 glared suspiciously at the scientis, not 100% believing them. 035 walked back to the table and sat down, still glaring daggers at the scientis.

*back to your cell*

Feeling refreshed and ready for the day, you gave the plush cat a pat and headed out the cell door. You waved to some scientis as you headed towards Dr. Yapp's office.

Dr. Yapp's office was located in light containment so it took you about 15 minutes to walk there, every now and then asking people for directions.

Eventually you made it to his office. You knocked gently on the door, you could hear shuffling inside the room as Dr. Yapp rushed to the door. The door swung open revealing the Doctor covered in paint and clutching a few paint tubes in his arms. You giggled at the sight.

"Don't laugh at me! Paint is surprisingly easy to spill everywhere." The doctor yelled.

You and Dr. Yapp spent the next hour and a half cleaning up paint. When it was properly cleaned up, Dr Yapp explained that he was planning on letting you and 035 paint today but the 05 council wanted full documentation of the experiment.

He explained that the 05 had never given scp 035 this much freedom and were sceptical about giving 035 what they want so easily. You wondered if you were still going to see 035 today or if you would be held from them longer.

"But! We made a compromise. You see, today we have more than usual staff so we would have more people to watch the two of you paint. Now 035 won't try to breach again. " Dr. Yapp exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

You smiled, happy that you'd be able to paint and see 035. Did 035 miss you? Or did 035 miss trying to figure out what you were and why they couldn't possess you. You had evidence that it could be ether or, and you were the type to take chances.

You and a couple other scientis helped Dr. Yapp carry the paint supplies to 035's containment cell. The supplies consisted of two easels, normal paint colors, pencils, and some paint brushes of different sizes.

When you all got to 035's cell, the guards standing outside the cell ordered 035 to stand away from everyone so we could set up.

"Why can't we let 035 help us?" You expressed your thoughts as you sat down one of the easels. The guard on your right grabbed you by the shoulder and aggressively threw you at 035, harming your shoulder in the process.

"If you like the damn thing so much why don't you marry it." The rude guard held his gun tightly, slightly pointing it at you and 035.

035 catches you and holds you up so you could steady yourself. You rubbed the bruising area trying to sooth the ache. 035 took notice of the pain painted on your face and your hand rubbing your shoulder.

You looked up at 035, their eyes were glowing a dark and glowing purple. You whispered to them that it wasn't worth their time and that it would only get themselves in more trouble than it's worth. 035 sighed in defeat and made sure that you were properly steadied before letting you go.

"So what's all this?" 035 moved to separate you from the others in the room. 035 switched to comedy once they were sure that the guards couldn't get to you easily.

"Oh! I convinced Dr. Yapp to let us paint and he convinced the O5 to get us the materials!" The scientis had finished setting everything up and had left the room, guards following behind them.

You moved in front of one of the easels, picked up a pencil, and began sketching your design on the canvas. 035 lingered in their spot, glaring at the scientis through the glass before walking up to the other easel.

As time went on, you had a pretty good sketch down. You noticed 035 glancing at you from time to time. Were they drawing you? You desided not to ask and just let it all unfold on it's own time.

After a few more minutes you were satisfied with the sketch and started picking out paint to use. Looking back over to 035, they were still hard at work sketching whatever they were going to paint.

You thought of earlier when 035 was about to confront the guard who threw you. Did 035 really care about you and your safety? Or were they mad that someone harmed someone that 035 thought belonged to them. Maybe even both.

After you had your paint set up, the pain in your shoulder came back. 035 noticed your sudden wince. You moved your arm around a bit to try and determine the damage, only making the pain a bit sharp for a few seconds.

"Is your shoulder hurt? I new I shouldn't have let that damn guard go." 035 mumbled the last part, making it hardly audible for you.

"Yeah, I can't tell how bad tho. Let's just keep painting, I'm still having fun!" You tried to reassure 035 so they wouldn't get an interview ban for attacking a guard.

035 let out a defeated sigh and picked their pencil back up. When you were almost halfway done painting your art, one of the scientis knocked on the glass. You looked at the scientist curiously, wondering what she wanted. Then you remembered Dr. Yapp telling you that a knock meant that you were out of time.

"Awww, you have to leave me alone already? We were having so much fun in each other's company." 035 wined at you and the scientis.

"Sorry 035, I don't make the rules. I'm sure they'll let us finish soon. Besides, your host is about to start falling apart. I dont think you can paint while you're falling apart."

You would admit that you were sad to leave 035, especially since you both weren't done with your paintings. You hugged 035 goodbye, while being careful as to not touch the black ooze, and left 035's cell. You waved to them through the glass as two guards escorted you out.

-------------------------------------------------------

1860 words, I did not expect myself to ever write that much

[vvingless-warrior]

The Emissary Refusal

Zack x Aerith; 1117 words

I really hope that is final letter that I am writing gets to you.

Mellow Mako-eyes with dark bags under them read the letter over and over again, that one specific sentence written on a dagger that was stabbing him in the chest, causing the nausea inducing heartache with ever time it was repeated in his head- in her voice. He wasn’t capable of hearing his own voice and drown hers out even when he tried it out loud. It only made it worse, if anything.

Zack finally put a stop to his masochistic loop of driving the paper-knife deeper and deeper as his hand sunk and the letter rested on his chest, limb falling loosely into the patch of grass to his right between himself and Cloud as they lay there, the subtly clouded sky, some of the mist covering the near full moon with the occasional bit passing through far above where his imagination could reach the horizon providing a view created to be enjoyed together. 

But not with a friend, not with family, but your lover.

She’d given up on him, she vagued in her letter. Her last one. But Zack hadn’t. Giving up had never been his thing, and it would never be. He was a man of his word, and he’d return to her. He knew she still prayed for his safety, there was no way she wouldn’t be, even after four years that could provide enough time to get over an adolescent romantic experience. She had to know he was still out there, optimistic and full of energy. Zack, flirtatious and adventurous. Zack, selfless and doing everything to help someone, save someone. Zack, breathing and alive dammit!

Zack, crying with his eyes pinched shut, for he refused to see the starry sky without Aerith.

He didn’t know when they fell shut, or when thin trails of liquidated warmth began to trickle down the sides of his face, but as he realized it, he didn’t even try to hold back. Cloud could see him break, crack open and let it out- with all they’ve been through, he’d understand, right?

Even if he wouldn’t, Zack couldn’t care less. Despite that, his paroxysm of longing and midnight melancholy wasn’t audible. It was silent. No sob, no sniffling to be heard of him, though he wasn’t holding back, either. Letting it out was… surprisingly peaceful. Like he was saying goodbye for good, forever- but not to her. There was no need to. And when the time did come to bid a farewell, when he’d finally get the wings he dreamed of having in short whiled sleep, he wanted to say it to her in person, holding her hand, send her off with a smile on his lips.

One that spoke of happiness, not tragedy. One that spoke of optimism and the ambition he carried throughout his life, not loss and depression, sadness to fill her with grief. It was the last thing he wanted, and it’s why getting back to Midgar, no matter what it would cost, was of utmost importance to him.

Aerith was so, so very important to him.

His tears suddenly felt colder, heavier. They didn’t just run down his face, they didn’t only stem from his eyes anymore, and as the sound of rustling leaves due to the liquid wrath of the upcoming storm hid the flora not too far from and all around them, Zack’s eyes shot open so a hand could grab and protect the already stained letter. “Shit-!” He cursed, sitting up with the need to act, and no time to think. He let go again reflexively to take care of getting Cloud to a dry and safer place, the heroism still burning bright inside him, but the loneliness that coexisted with it took over when the paper hit the ground.

He gritted his teeth and hoisted his blond companion, still rendered immobile from the overdose of Mako coursing through him, over his shoulder. Zack didn’t stand up straight immediately, instead reaching for the letter, the only memoir left of her in his possession. He wasn’t fast enough before it flew off with the relentless wind that mercilessly made his stressful life a little harder.

“Wh- hey!”, Zack yelled after the mail that twisted and turned and dipped in height with every drop of water that hit it and smudged the writing more and more. He jumped to his feet, combat boots squeaking against the damp grass as he navigated through the open field into the nearby woods the paper lured him into.

His lungs burned with every sharp inhale he took chasing down one of the last threads that kept his sanity pieced together to not fall apart just yet. And when he found it, the knife had moved from his mind to exactly that, cutting yet another loose, picking it apart at the seams to come undone. The raven panted when he stood before the sad, soaked piece of paper, writing unintelligible, washed away, diluted in the tears of the steel sky.

Shaky legs collapsed and the warrior dropped to his knees. He reached out a gloved hand to pick it up from the mud and grass that mother nature used to claim what once was a letter meant for him as her own. Zack’s eyes narrowed, eyebrows knitted together as he clutched it tightly in his grip, not damaging it any more than what already had been done, and could not be undone.

He leaned over, slowly, until his forehead touched the ground and his torso shielded that particular spot from any more of the Gods’ tears, an apology mouthed and yet unable to be spoken aloud due to a choked sob occupying his vocal chords when Cloud hit the ground next to him. He surrendered to the forces above. What choice did he have when all they did was take away the only things left in his life?

Zack clenched his fists, banging one on the ground as the tears that streamed down rapidly and off the tip off his nose formed a small puddle underneath his face. He shook with anger and the chill the trees refused to keep from him, weeps and pained sobs extracted from the last bit of energy he had left in him.

“Why…?”, he asked. Quietly, cowardly sounding, in his opinion, before forcing himself up to his knees and face the Gods looking down upon him, “WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME!?”

But no answer. No response, no words to grace him with. Neither from the Gods, nor from Cloud, nor from Aerith.

And never again would it be him who was to hear the angel’s voice.

[the-golden-ghost]

Unbind me

QUICK SUM-UP

There’s wizards. The Cave Wizard went missing long ago under mysterious circumstances but is now rumored to still be alive.

Our unlikely heroes, Daisy, Cooper, and Bullrush are on a Quest to find him.

On the way they stumble into the territory of Sylvetta The Forest Wizard who doesn’t like having her territory stumbled into. Oh No.

Here is what they find there.

~

“It’s a hole?” Cooper shone the flashlight down the steps. They were wood; rotting, probably not safe to traverse. The interior was dark and impossible to make out, except for the dust and cobwebs that spoke of age and abandonment.

“Looks like a cellar,” Daisy said, peering over his shoulder. “Maybe an old wine cellar. This might be a good time to stock up on provisions.”

“There’s no house around,” Cooper pointed out. His brows furrowed in thought. “No house means it can’t be a wine cellar. What if it belongs to her?”

Daisy considered that. Stealing from one of the most powerful wizards in the whole area was probably what her old grandmother (rest her soul) would have called “going fly-fishing with a tackle bx of doggy treats” in other words, a neat concept but in practice a Very Stupid Idea.

“If it’s hers we’ll get out quick, okay?” she squeezed Cooper’s shoulder. He looked up at her and blinked nervously before nodding.

“You want I should go first?”

“Well, you’re the one with the flashlight. Lead on!”

“What about Bullrush?”

Daisy looked over at the horse. He was tied around the trunk of an old maple and wouldn’t be running away, and there probably weren’t going to be horse thieves out in the Dire Woods, but she still didn’t like to leave him. “He’ll be fine. We won’t be long. Just long enough to see what’s down there.”

They made their way down the steps. They were indeed rotten, groaning and soft. Daisy was worried they wouldn’t take her weight, but they held. Cooper, being lighter, had it easier. At the bottom he audibly gasped.

Daisy squinted in the dim light and her mouth fell open too, when she saw what was down there.

It was a single room, larger than Daisy would have expected for being underground, and in every corner, stacked on ancient tables, hanging from the ceiling, or just carelessly stuffed in boxes and thrown aside, were dolls.

“It’s her place,” Cooper whispered. “We have to get out.”

“Wait a second,” Daisy said. As uneasy as the place made her feel - something about it seemed alive, almost - she had to admit she was curious. As a craftswoman herself she couldn’t help but be impressed by Sylvetta’s handiwork. Most of the dolls were of carved wood, and they were intricate, personal.

They ranged in size from tiny things that could fit inside teacups to immense effigies larger than a human, all with unique features and forms. There were lovely fairy-like creatures with silk bodies and shiny black eyes, wooden puppets with broken limbs, hideous stone-carved goblins, an odd childlike figure holding a glass bowl that had no hair and, eerily, no mouth, and the body of a porcelain doll that had shattered, leaving only her intact body and fragments of her head and shoulder swept up on the table where she lay. These were only a few of the hundreds within, and Daisy studied them with interest.

“Let’s go,” Cooper said, and Daisy turned around.

“Yeah, you’re right. This is a little weird,” Daisy said. But as she was starting to head towards Cooper, they both heard a muffled squeak from the gloom.

“...A mouse.” Daisy said after a heartbeat of stillness. “That’s all.” But when the sound came again, it was very clearly not a mouse.

“Help me.”

A voice. High pitched and slightly cracked, but definitely a voice.

“It’s - it’s probably a trap,” Cooper said. “Let’s get out. It must be some guard or something the Forest Wizard put up to lure us in. When we go to find it, she’ll catch us!”

Daisy had to admit it was possible. But if this was some lost soul trapped in the doll pit, could they really just leave them there? “I’ll go and have a quick check. And if I see anything weird - weirder than usual - I’ll come right back, okay?”

Cooper shook his head no, but Daisy just smiled. “It’ll be fine. I’m bigger and tougher than a lot of old toys,” she sounded braver than she felt. Turning back to the doll room and heading through, she felt like she was being watched. And though she swore it was her imagination... the childlike doll with the glass bowl seemed to have turned its head, for it was now looking right at her.

But no. Surely it had always been turned that way. And surely the puppet that jerked its arm when she walked by - she must have bumped it by accident. “Hello?” she called out. “Is anyone there?”

“Help.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m back. In here. In the back.”

Great. Right where Daisy didn’t want to go. “Okay,” she said. “I’m coming. Are you a villager, or one of the forest dwellers?”

The voice said something in reply, a word Daisy couldn’t make out as she picked her way through the shadowy clusters of dolls that were definitely - definitely - moving. Just a little.

“Under him.”

Daisy stopped. “Who?”

“Him.”

She was at the back wall. To her left was a sight of sheer horror - a hulking figure ten feet tall. It was draped robes of some kind of dirty white cloth, and had a misshapen body and a balding head resting on a shelf. The face was turned towards Daisy - horrible, vacant eyes and a leering grin full of broken wooden teeth. “Him?”

“I’m under his robe. His name is Lurch. He can’t hurt you.”

Indeed, Lurch was ominously still. But there was something about his face that seemed... aware, and present.

“Just push his robe aside. I am in the cabinet.”

Daisy reached out, daunted, and touched the wooden figure. He didn’t move, but she saw that his eyes had followed her. Shuddering, she pushed back the fabric he was wearing and found behind him an open cupboard. Inside was what Daisy had been starting to suspect - another doll, not unlike the others in the room. Daisy’s mouth went dry. “You’re alive, aren’t you. You can talk.”

The little figure blinked, and struggled to focus on Daisy. One eye was brown, the other green, and it looked for the most part like a little wooden doll, like the kind Daisy had when she was a child. It was wearing a dusty green dress and had curly hair and a round, cherubic face. Unlike most of the others in the room, it had no serious damage, just a crack under one eye. “I can talk.”

“But you can’t move.”

“I can. My arms - “

Daisy saw that it was tied like a marionette, immobile in the cabinet. “Do you work for Sylvetta? You’re one of her creatures, aren’t you?”

“I’m hers. But I do not work for her now. She put me in here to wind down.”

“Why should I take you out of the cabinet if you belong to someone who’s so dangerous to us?”

“I am not dangerous. Look at me. I have been in here for so long and no one ever comes down. You would be my last hope to see the outside before I am wound down for good. I do not have long. You won’t be stuck with me.”

“You just... want to go outside?”

“I want to go outside.”

Daisy looked around, but there was no one to ask for help. This little creature was so small, barely more than a foot high. Daisy couldn’t imagine it would be of any real harm. So, with some misgivings, she took her knife and cut the strings holding it in the cupboard.

It collapsed at once like a wooden doll would, but when it actually got up and stood on two feet, Daisy was admittedly weirded out. “You - do you have a name?”

“Ivy,” it murmured, holding out a hand. Carved on the wrist were two letters; IV.

“Well, we almost match, then. I’m Daisy. Uh, good to meet you, I guess.”

Ivy didn’t reply. Instead she turned her eyes upward. “I would like to say goodbye to Lurch. In this place, he was my only friend and companion. And he is far gone. He does not have much longer.”

“What do I do?”

“Lift me up.”

Daisy knew she wouldn’t be able to reach all the way to the shelf where Lurch’s head was. But she figured she could do her best. Gingerly, she grasped Ivy by the waist and held her over her head, not really sure what else she should be doing. This whole situation was far too weird.

“Lurch? My friend?” Ivy said. “I am going away at last. I will miss you!” Daisy looked towards the face of the behemoth. He still had his same fixed grin, but his eyes still had life in them, and sorrow. “Thank you for your companionship.” There was a paused. Daisy waited to see if Lurch would speak, but he did not. “Okay,” Ivy said. “You can set me down.”

Daisy couldn’t get out of that room fast enough. Several of the dolls had moved during the event, and now she was starting to hear whispers and groans coming from them. Cooper had completely abandoned ship and was now outside. Daisy made a rush, with Ivy tottering along near her heels, apparently unused to walking.

When they got outside, Cooper came to greet Daisy in a hurry, but before he could get to her he froze and stared down at Ivy climbing out from the dark space.

“What is that?”

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾Playing the Part🐾

Summary: No matter how much he tried to tell himself to snap out of it, no matter how much he internally screamed at his muscles to move, Izuku couldn’t do anything but stand and stare at the villain’s second in command.

~~~

There were not many things that could genuinely shock the famed Number One Hero, Deku. He had been a hero for long enough that even when there was something that surprised him, he could usually hide his expression pretty well, focusing on the task ahead and forcing himself to solve the problem in front of him before dwelling on whatever new discovery had shocked him to begin with.

But for the first time in his life, Izuku Midoriya was frozen, stunned by shock, anger, fear, and confusion as he took in the disastrous scene before him, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, slack jawed. The villain in front of him smiled wickedly, his eyes twinkling as he took in Izuku’s expression.

This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

“Well well well, Deku, what do you think? Pretty cool, right?” The villain laughed as he gestured to the woman standing beside him, the woman whom, up until a moment ago, was someone Izuku would’ve trusted with his life.

No matter how much he tried to tell himself to snap out of it, no matter how much he internally screamed at his muscles to move, he couldn’t do anything but stand and stare at the villain’s second in command. She was dressed in black and brown fighting leathers, completely different from her usual brightly colored, flowy blouses and t-shirts. Her rosy cheeks had been dusted over with a pale foundation, making her face darker and less cheery. Her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail, only a single strand of her gorgeous chocolate brown hair hanging in front of her face, the piece having come loose in the midst of all of the fighting.

Ochako Uraraka. The woman he was best friends with. The woman he had grown up with and gone to school with. The woman who had told him years ago that she planned on becoming a hero to give her family a better life. The woman he was deeply in love with.

“Hello Deku,” Ochako said, her voice unusually cold and clipped, her lips parting into a terrified smile that made shivers run up and down Izuku’s spine. “Long time no see.”

Izuku’s mouth opened and closed several times as he fought to find his words. How could this happen? This could not be happening! He wanted this to just be some horrible dream so badly; to wake up and find himself curled around her peacefully sleeping form. But here she was, staring him down with eyes as sharp as daggers, blood dripping from the sword she held in her right hand, the blade glinting as she tilted it threateningly in his direction.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Ochako sneered, her red painted nails gleaming in the sun as she gripped the handle of her weapon harder.

Gulping, Izuku finally managed to speak.

“W-What? W-Why?” Izuku closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Why are you doing this? What have you done?”

Ochako laughed at his questions, her wicked smile widening.

“Why? You’re asking me why? How pathetic, you really don’t know what to do with yourself do you? I’m doing this because this is who I am. I have always felt that this world needed fixing, and although in my youth I was too naive to see it, I have come to realize in my adulthood that violence is the only way to truly cause change.”

“What are you talking about!? You are not the Ochako I know! The Ochako I know has always been loving and kind, gently talking to people and learning about their problems, fighting for a world of peace! The Ochako I know is the sweetest person on this planet, she would never do something like this!” Izuku yelled, his voice strained with desperation.

“Wow, you really are stupid, Izuku,” Ochako said in a frigid tone that stabbed at Izuku’s heart like a spear. “The Ochako you’re talking about never existed. The life you have been living is nothing more than a lie. It’s pitiful really, how easily you fell into my trap. You were so willing to lay yourself down for me, to do anything I asked for no matter the repercussions, I almost feel sorry for you.”

Izuku gaped at her, his words caught in his throat once more.

“But in the end, I guess I could just never push away my true self. This image of me you see before you, this is who I am, and this is who I will always be. I have come to realize in my time with you how ignorant the heroes of this society are, pushing for a world of peace while torturing and killing the villains of this world, oftentimes harming them beyond repair, crippling them for life or sentencing them to a life of damnation. No world like that is worth fighting for,” Ochako said, her eyes glinting as she looked right at him, seemingly staring right into his soul.

Izuku could feel his heart being ripped to shreds, tears dripping from the corners of his eyes as her words slapped him over and over again. This couldn’t be true. This had to be some elaborate scheme, some sick joke to mess with him.

But in his heart he knew. This was no joke. Everything he was seeing, everything he was feeling, was real. He felt his knees buckle, the pressure of this particular realization too much for him. He landed on the ground, his head in his hands, not caring that the enemy could easily strike him down while he was not paying attention. He didn’t have the strength to look up anymore.

“Y-You used me…,” Izuku mumbled into his hands, more tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Obviously.”

Her crass response made him cringe, his sobs becoming audible enough to bounce off of the surrounding debris. His best friend, his seemingly perfect lover, they were gone, reduced to nothing but the form of hatred and death that stood before him. The original villain he had been fighting stood off to the side, keeping silent with a vicious smile on his face as he watched the scene unfold before him. Watching the great, unmatched hero Deku break.

“None of it was real? Your loving words? Your sweet nature? Your warm kisses and hugs? You meant none of it?” Izuku sobbed out, his hands still covering his face.

Silence was his response for a moment, until he felt a warm breath brush against his ear, causing him to shiver. He hadn’t even heard her come up to him.

“It was for the best,” Ochako whispered to him, ignoring him as his cries got louder. “But do not worry my love, the pain will all be over soon.”

Izuku had just enough time to look into her eyes, alarm and somehow even more shock flowing through his system at the implication of her words before he felt the cool bite of the blade sink into his chest. Izuku let out a gasp, his arms involuntarily wrapping around her waist, her own free hand coming up to grasp his collar.

Izuku choked a bit, blood spilling from his wound before he let out one last shaky breath, his eyes rolling back into his head as his form went limp. Ochako watched the light leave his eyes before standing up, releasing his collar from her grasp so his body hit the ground with a heavy thump.

Staring down at his prone form, Ochako’s eyes followed every curve of his now relaxed body before coming to rest on his lips. Leaning down, Ochako splayed her palm across his chest, the lack of his beating heart thumping against her hand causing her heart to flutter lightly. Narrowing her eyes, Ochako leaned forward and pressed her lips to his still ones, her heart fluttering even more at the lack of a reaction. He was normally so eager to kiss her back, the lack of movement was a clear sign to his death.

Removing herself after a moment of basking in the glow of her lover’s death; sharing their final kiss, Ochako smiled at the red lipgloss she left smeared on his lips. Reaching over, Ochako used her fingers to delicately close the lids on his lifeless eyes, her lips parted slightly.

“Goodbye, my dear Deku, sleep well,” She whispered with a light chuckle, continuing to kneel by his side as she felt her boss move up beside her. The villain remained silent, allowing her to mourn in her own, sick, twisted way.

“CUT!”

As soon as that loud declaration sounded, Ochako went to remove herself from Izuku’s body when he reached around suddenly and pulled her back down, silencing her protest with a kiss to her lips.

Ochako giggled when they parted, opening her eyes again to see her husband staring right back at her, his eyes shining brightly. She leaned down once more and gave him a quick peck on the lips before rolling off of him to talk to their director, who was making his way to them with a smile on his face.

“Perfect! Absolutely stunning performance by the two of you! It almost felt real!” Their director raved as he padded up to them, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“Thank you Iida, it was your idea to have that twist at the end,” Ochako said, leaning down to help Izuku up from where he had crumbled to the floor during their performance.

Iida shook his head, his blue locks swaying as he did so.

“It doesn’t matter that I thought of the idea, you two were the ones who brought it to life. Good work to the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Izuku said, wrapping an arm around Ochako’s waist and pulling her against him, smiling at the small squeak she released at the contact.

Iida smiled at them before glancing at the clock.

“I think we have what we need, you two are dismissed for the day.”

The pair thanked him again before rushing out to their car, eager to head home after a long day of filming for their newest upcoming movie, a film about heroes and villains in a fight for survival.

“You know, if we hurry, we can pick up Ryoko from school,” Izuku said as they situated themselves in the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot to the studio.

“Ooooh! Yeah, let’s go surprise her!” Ochako said.

Izuku and Ochako Midoriya loved their jobs as famous actors but hated the fact that it took up so much of their time. They were a family now, and they wanted to spend more time together. Unfortunately, their talent on the big screen oftentimes led to long periods of time away from their precious little daughter, forcing them to hire a nanny to collect their daughter from school and watch her until they could come back home in the evening.

The pair chatted idly as they made their way to their daughter’s school, both of them excited to see their little girl. Izuku drove a little faster than normal, eager to make it there on time. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, both of them were practically trembling in their seats, their eyes scanning the schoolyard.

“There!” Ochako murmured to her husband, pointing at a small girl with bright green hair and brown eyes, her gaze fixed on a praying mantis on the sidewalk, not paying attention to the cars moving through the lot. Clearing his throat, Izuku smiled and rolled down his window.

“Ryoko!”

The little girl snapped her head up before her whole face broke into the world’s brightest smile, scrambling to her feet to rush at the car.

“Mommy! Daddy!” She squealed.

Izuku and Ochako got out of the car, ignoring the stares of the people around them who recognized them from their movies and focused solely on their daughter as she sprinted at them. They both held their arms out for her and caught the squirming little girl as she launched into their arms with a joyful laugh, her tiny arms wrapping around their necks to hold onto them as tightly as she could.

Both of her parents embraced her in a giant hug, nuzzling her face and neck as she giggled, their hearts threatening to burst. They may work hard and they were definitely busy, but they never got tired of spending time with their daughter and her happiness was well worth their time. Coaxing the energetic girl into the car to head home, Izuku and Ochako gave each other a quick kiss before following suit and entering the vehicle, eager to spend the rest of the afternoon with the whole family together.

“I’ll call the nanny on the way home, let her know we’ve got Ryoko,” Ochako said as she buckled herself in.

“Perfect, thank you,” Izuku said glancing over at his amazing wife. “Hey, Ochako?”

“Yeah?” She asked, giving him her undivided attention.

Izuku swooped in and gave her a kiss on the lips, humming when she responded passionately and smiling when he heard his daughter make vomiting sounds from the backseat at their displays of affection.

“I love you,” Izuku said with a smile. “I know we play a whole variety of roles but I will always love you and you will always be my number one, remember that.”

Ochako smiled at him and cupped his cheek lovingly.

“I love you too, and the same goes for you, mister,” Ochako teased before pulling back to call the nanny, Izuku setting the car in drive to go back home, ready to spend the rest of his day playing his favorite role of all, a loving husband and father.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Yours, Mine, and Ours [5]

Masterlist

Warnings: non/dubcon sex.

This is dark!Steve AND dark!Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: Steve is away but that doesn’t mean there’s an end to the play.

Notes: So there’s a lot of sex in this chapter but there is a sliver of plot and I think it’s even a bit sad in the end. Anyways, enjoy as Steve turns into more of dick and gets insane on his sexual power trip.

Also, maybe reblog and or comment :) It’s your call but I would forever love you.

...

Steve rarely slept before a mission. Luckily, he hadn't been very tired. He had taken real pleasure in wearing her out. He'd be away for a few days, maybe more, and it was nice to have her to himself. Even so, he couldn't help but think of all the other ways to use her as he was fucking her. 

As she was beneath him, he recalled their last rendezvous with Bucky. Her mouth around his friend's cock as he pounded into her from behind. The way her back arched, the noises that came from her. The very same as he crushed her into the mattress. Her body bounced beneath his violently as he kept his hand around her throat.

She passed out for an hour and he roused her. His cock hurt it was so hard. She was groggy as he turned her over and entered her. She gripped the pillow as his skin slapped against hers. She fell asleep again, filled with his cum. Still, he couldn't sleep. He was thinking of the conversation he needed to have with Bucky before he left. And with her.

She snored with her head hidden behind her arm and he rubbed her lower back. Her alarm began to chime and she snorted as she lifted her head. She reached over clumsily and swiped her finger three times across her phone screen before it quieted. She rolled back over and buried her head in the pillow.

"Sweetheart," He purred as he pressed his body to her. He felt himself harden and she shook her head at the prod of his cock. "Time to wake up."

"Five more minutes," She mumbled. 

"I gotta leave soon," He cooed as he cupped her ass, "And don't you have to work?"

"Not til nine," She kept her face hidden from him as she sprawled on her stomach. "Five minutes."

He chuckled and slapped her ass. She winced but didn't move. He squeezed her ass and kissed along her neck and shoulder. She grumbled and shimmied away from him. 

"Haven't you had enough?" She tried to shrug him off.

"Of you, never," He traced his fingers along her back and she stiffened.

"I'm sore," She turned to look at him, her eyelids heavy and barely open. Her voice was thick with fatigue.

"It's alright," He climbed over her and pinned her to the mattress with his arm across her shoulders. "I'll do the work."

"Steve," She tried to lift her head and he moved his arm to her neck.

"Shhh," He lined himself up and pushed past her ass. She wriggled, a whimper squeaked from her.

"Really, Steve," She was a bit more alert, "I said no."

He entered her without furth argument. His cock was throbbing. Her warmth eased the ache. She reached back to his wrist and he batted her away. He grabbed her shoulders and lifted himself. He thrust into her with all his weight as his long fingers hooked over her shoulders. She clawed at the sheets as her head was forced deeper into the pillow.

"Fuck," He slammed into her, each rock of his hips marked by a whine from her lips. "I'm gonna miss you so much."

"S-s-steve," She stuttered, "Goddamn--it, st---"

He shifted his weight onto his knees as he kept his motion hard and deep. He spread a hand over the middle of her back to keep her in place as he clamped his other over her mouth. She muttered into his palm. Her eyes were wide now. He sped up.

He felt her walls tighten around him. She was cumming even as she grasped at his hand. Her eyes rolled back and he felt the wave roll through him. His thrusts were jerky and rough as he came and grunted out his release. 

He slowed and pulled his hand from her mouth. He wiped her saliva along her back and eased out of her. His cum leaked out of her beautifully. He fell back onto his side of the bed and she sat up in an instant. He caught her hand before she could slap his chest.  

"Steve!" Her voice was shrill, "What the fuck?"

"Sorry, I know that was more than five minutes," He laughed and the rage sparked in her eyes.

"Not funny," She tried to yank her hand away but he kept his hold firm.

"You're gonna be begging for it by the time I get back," He tugged on her and grabbed her other arm. He forced her over him as he squeezed her wrists. "Won't you?"

She stared at him. Her lips twitched but she said nothing.

"I was going to have Bucky take care of you while I was away but if you're going to be a brat, I'll let you pout alone," He gritted through his teeth. 

Her eyes searched him and the tension left her jaw. She looked down; ashamed, afraid even. His cock threatened to rise again and he pushed away the urge.

"Hmm?" He brought her hands up to rest on his shoulders.

"Yes, Captain," She mumbled. "I'll be good."

"Alright," He hugged her to him and she slowly let her head rest beside his. "You remember the rules when I'm gone."

"I will," She whispered her ascent. 

He pushed his leg between her and felt his cum dribble from her. He reached down and dragged his fingers along her wet pussy. She shivered and he snarled in approval.

"I've got something else for you," He said as he slipped his fingers inside of her. She was warm still. "A little present for following the rules."

He removed his fingers and ran his hands along her body before reluctantly rolling her off him. He sat up and turned his legs over the side of the bed. She pushed herself up and as her thighs brushed together, she trembled. She would feel him until he returned. 

He stood and crossed to his dresser. They had spent the night in his room. He wanted the privacy. The retreat. He opened the top drawer and pulled out the curved pink toy. He admired it before he turned back to her and held it up. Her eyes rounded and her brows rose.

"I want you to wear this today," He sat on the bed as she crawled over to him. She tucked her legs under her as she came to his side. "All day. Until I say otherwise."

"Wear it?" She crinkled her nose.

He smirked and handed it to her. He reached over to his nightstand and unplugged his phone. He opened it and hit the app. He pressed the first setting and it buzzed; a short spurt, but audible between her fingers. She gasped and his eyes drifted down to her lap. Realization smoothed her features.

"But I... I can't have this in at work," She shoved it towards him. "I'm supposed to be at a conference with Tony at noon--"

"You'll manage," He wrapped his hand around hers and pushed the toy against her chest. "You're a good girl, aren't you?"

-

Steve left her with a kiss. He could tell she was irritated with him still. She knew better than to say anything. That didn't mean he wouldn't remember the look on her face or the tone she took with him as she stepped out of the shower and he waved the toy at her. He knew she wouldn't disobey, she had yet to do so, but he expected a bit of gratitude. 

He yawned as he stopped at Bucky's door and knocked. He waited. Knocked again. He heard movement from the other side and finally it opened. 

Bucky's hair was a mess. His blue eyes were cloudy with sleep and he looked confused at Steve's presence. His voice was thick as he grumbled a 'hey' and glanced down the hall.

"Just sayin' goodbye before I leave," Steve nodded past him, "May I?"

Bucky shrugged and opened the door. He stepped back as Steve entered. The room reflected its occupant. Sloppy, dark. The blankets were twisted across the bed and the hamper overflowed with clothes. The desk was piled with old case briefs and wrappers. It was not the quarters of a military man but a distracted one.

"When I'm gone," Steve crossed his arms as Bucky closed the door. "I leave her to you but...rules, right?"

"Right," Bucky gristled and cleared his throat. 

"I'll call you tonight. 2300 hours." He sighed. "Get her to the apartment. We'll take it from there."

"I'm tired, Steve," Bucky sat on the office chair at his desk. "I think a night off would be good for all of us."

"I say what's good for us," Steve said, "She'll be desperate by then."

Bucky looked away, his blue eyes dull. "Okay," His voice was just as enthusiastic.

"I could call it all off. For good," Steve approached him. "And you can leave her alone. Entirely. No talking. You'll never be in the same room as her again."

Bucky's eyes flashed and he glared at Steve. His shoulders tensed then fell as he saw the resolve in Steve's sneer. "You...fine." He huffed. He leaned back in the chair heavily. "Whatever you say, Captain."

-

The day had been torturous. There was no relief to be had. Even alone in your room, you could not get comfortable. You had shed your blouse and skirt for a night shirt, but it did nothing to cool you down. You sat against your head board, unable to focus on your phone screen as you watched a DIY video on tiling, or wallpaper. Who knew?

You tried to sleep but that was hopeless, you could barely sit still. You were close to writhing across the mattress as you slid further and further down. Your phone buzzed, you jumped. It hadn't vibrated all day but that thing inside of you had. Endlessly. 

You were rigid. Antsy. It was almost as if Steve was there with you. He'd get you close to the edge and then lay off, only to start again the moment you relaxed. You were about to pull the damn thing out. 

'Bucky's waiting', the text read. 'Downstairs'. You frowned and a moment later the vibe buzzed too. You typed back. 'Yes, Captain'. 

You stared at the suggested responses. 'Love you', heart emoji, 'miss you'. You hit send and ignored the pang in your chest. You scrolled up but gave up before you could find those sweet messages from long ago. That Steve rarely showed his face anymore.

You sighed and pulled on a hoodie and jeans over your night shirt. You tied your sneakers and didn't bother to fix your hair. You pulled the hood up and head down. Bucky was in his car, a hand on the steering wheel as he idled around the side. You dipped into the seat and flinched as you sat on the vibe and it went off again.

"Hey," He said. He didn't look at you as he pulled out onto the street.

"Sorry, hope you weren't waiting too long," You clasped your hands together nervously.

He shook his head. "No. No. It's nothing," His cheek twitched, almost like he wanted to smile. "I wasn't waiting long."

You looked out the window as he drove. He looked as tired as you felt. You had noticed that lately. He seemed entirely out of it. You were out of it. This whole arrangement had grown increasingly stressful. Every other night, if not every night, at least when they were in town. They hadn't had many missions as of late.

Steve made sure that you felt his absence this time. Another vibration and you bit down on your knuckle. You counted the blocks until the building appeared before you. You undid your seat belt before the engine died and Bucky glanced over at you with a twinkle. You smiled at him and waited to grab the handle.

He got out first and you stumbled out your side. The key jingled against his metal hand and he waited for you to precede him. There wasn't much to say. His phone lit up in his other hand. Steve giving another order. You ascended in a mutual resignation as he texted back. 

You waited for Bucky to unlock the door. Inside, the apartment was cool; silent. You headed for the bedroom but stopped as Bucky spoke up. "He wants us in here," He held up his phone and read, "There's a box on the counter," You looked over to the kitchen; the counter looked out onto the living room. "He's says to change."

You nodded and grabbed the thin white box from the counter. You looked at Bucky as you headed back to the bedroom and he glanced away. He crossed his arm across his chest as he held his phone with his other hand. 

"I'll wait in here." He plopped into the chair.

You entered the bedroom and stripped. You felt as if you were shaking. You were nervous suddenly. You fished your phone from your pocket and touched the head of the toy pressed to your clit. 

'Take it out'. The text read. You replied diligently and sighed. You removed the toy and felt painfully empty.

You opened the box. A bodysuit of black straps stared back at you. No crotch, no ass, no tits, only straps. You placed your legs carefully through the holes you were sure were meant for them and worked at keeping it from tangling as you pulled it on. You looked down and felt like covering yourself. Bucky has seen it all and more but you felt even more naked in the harness-like lingerie.

You shook it off and went to the door. Bucky was talking when you entered. His screen was lit up as he held it before him. You could see Steve's face over his shoulder. 

"There she is," Steve said, "Let me get a look, Buck."

Bucky turned his phone and his head. He blinked as he saw you and steadied the phone. 

"Amazing," Steve purred and Bucky stood. "Alright, I want you two on the couch. You should be able to prop the phone up on the coffee table."

Bucky hesitated. He was lucky Steve could only see you. He lowered the phone and leaned it on the coffee table against the fake plant in the middle of it. He stood and backed out of the frame so that the lens took in the complete expanse of the couch.

"Naked, Bucky," Steve ordered, "Sweetheart, on the couch." 

You met Bucky's gaze and he tilted his head. He unzipped his jacket and began to undress. You passed him and sat on the middle cushion. Steve smiled and you smoothed your hands over your thighs.

"You look so hot," He said, "Turn. On all fours."

"Yes, Captain," You replied and got up on hands and knees.

"Mmm, look at that ass," He purred. "Buck, you almost ready?"

"Yeah," Bucky answered grimly as he pulled down his jeans. 

You watched him over your shoulder as he threw them over the chair with the rest of his clothes. Despite the edge in his voice, he was hard. You looked forward and waited for him.

"Behind her," Steve directed as Bucky came into frame. "She should already be wet...I got her ready for you."

You heard Bucky huff. It was too quiet for the microphone to pick up. The couch dipped behind you and you were surprised as his hands grazed your hips; one roughened flesh, the other smooth metal. He pushed his knees between yours as he squeezed your hips.

"Go on," Steve urged. You looked over at the small phone. You could only see to his shoulders but you could tell he was touching himself. "Slow."

You gulped and braced yourself. Bucky's cock pressed along your pussy and he pulled his metal hand back to guide himself. He pushed inside and you exhaled. He was deliberate, as if taking Steve's direction to the letter.

"Yeah, like that," Steve breathed. "Make her want it."

Bucky thrust smoothly. His hips rocked slow and steady. He held your hips as he suppressed his grunts. A moan erupted from you as he stoked the flames that had been burning all day. You hung your head as your pussy clenched around him. It wasn't enough to finish. Just enough to keep you teetering.

"You gonna beg, baby?" Steve asked, "Let me hear it. Let him hear it."

You bit your lip and hissed. You forced your voice out as you lifted your head. "Please," You croaked sharply. "Please, more."

"That's it," Steve cooed. His own breaths were starting to strain. "Harder."

Bucky complied and his fingers tightened around your hips. You clawed at the cushion and pushed back into him. 

"Please, more, more, more," You were so close. At last. A whole day of buzzing had made you crazy. You needed it more than you wanted it.

"More," Steve echoed you. His voice was stone.

Bucky's hand moved up to grip the straps along your shoulders. He pounded into you, his groans escaped him at last. He pulled you back until your hand were off the couch and your back arched. 

"Fuck, yeah," Steve growled, "Let her have it, Buck."

Bucky's metal hand snaked under your arm to your throat. He brought flush against him as his fingers stretched across your neck. His breath was hot against your ear as he jostled your body. 

Agonized sputters leaked from your lips and the heat stormed within you. You clung to the straps along your stomach and closed your eyes. You could barely hear Steve's moans or orders. You stuck your tongue out as you came and  laughed as the sudden release that washed over you.

Bucky slammed into you as his hand squeezed enough to block the air from your lungs. You wheezed and reached up to touch his hand. His grunts swirled in the air with Steve's. He motion grew harder and wavered. 

His fingers loosened and he pushed you away. You fell forward over the cushions as he came on your thigh. Steve was already panting and your heart hammered still. You looked at the phone and met Steve's dark eyes. 

"Again," He growled as he fixed his phone, "Hold her down."

-

Bucky fell back as the video called blipped. Steve's face was gone; his voice too. Both were starting to wear on his nerves. He breathed out as he wiped the trickle of sweat along his chest. He was even more tired than before. He wasn't sleeping. Only in spurts, an hour if he was lucky. He was exhausted. His head never stopped.

The movement beside him stirred him from his daze. As his cock softened, the fatigue sank in. He looked over at her with tired eyes as she rolled onto her back. She reached down and touched her pussy. His cum smeared along her ass and thighs, some dry and sticky on her stomach, too. 

He couldn't looked at it. He had done that to her. And for what? She was Steve's girl. He could never have her and he had done this on the threat of losing her. What would he lose but her humiliation? Her pain? Was it worth his fleeting pleasure? The harrowing highs and devastating lows.

She groaned as she slumped against the arm and dragged herself up. He peeked over at her again. She looked tired too. She rubbed her forehead and her features fell. He rarely saw her anything but cheery. Bright. She inhaled as if to right herself and stood unsteadily.

"I'm gonna...wash up," Her voice was distant, her steps staggered and uncertain.

He watched her as she neared the bedroom door and he cleared his throat. He stood and shook of his hesitance. He felt more ashamed than she looked. 

"Can I...I'll help. I gotta…" He looked down at his sweaty body, "If it's okay with you?"

Her brow wrinkled and she considered him. A bitter smile curved her lips. "You're asking me?"

"I…" He hung his head. "Are you okay?" She shrugged and turned to lean on the door frame. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I don't think you did," She said softly and glanced over her shoulder as she stood straight, "Come on. We can share the shower. Save some water."

She disappeared and he followed at distance. When he entered the washroom, the faucet was cranked and the shower curtain drawn. She stepped over the lip of the tub and the rings rang against the pole as she pulled it closed. He stared at her blurred figure through the thin curtain and slipped in behind her.

"Admittedly, it's selfish of me," She said as she lathered a loofah, "I need you to get my back."

"Oh," He sputtered and took the sponge as she held it over her shoulder. 

"Fair trade. I'll get yours."

He nodded and daintily touched the loofah to her skin. He ran it down her spine and she shivered. He focused on his work, he scrubbed her diligently but gently. He did her arms and her ass. He paused at the latter. He hadn't meant to go that far. He pulled away and handed her the loofah back.

She worked at the rest of her body and turned to him. "Now you," She spun her finger. "I think I'll--" She yawned as he followed her direction, "Sleep here. You can go if you like but I'm...wiped." 

She began with his shoulders, gently along the metal seam. Her touch was firm but caring. As if she feared she could hurt him. He let his head fall forward as he eased into her touch. The act was almost intimate. The slaking of his sweat at her hands. She finished and pressed the loofah into his hand.

She left before him. He was close behind. He dried himself as he followed her to the bedroom. Hung his towel beside hers as she fell onto the bed.

"Think I'll stay too." He said, "I'll crash on the couch. Give ya a ride in the morning."

She nodded and rolled onto her stomach. She lifted her head as he made to leave. "You can sleep in here." She offered. "Figure...after everything, it doesn't matter."

"Are you--sure?" He asked.

"Yeah, come on," She shimmied over, "Lots of room."

Bucky hesitated. He should grab something to sleep in but he was tired. He just wanted to lay down. And beside her, that sounded like heaven.

"Okay," He crossed to the bed slowly. 

He laid down so that the bed barely moved beneath him. He slipped under the blanket and she did the same. She faced away from him, her arms up around her pillow as she lay on her stomach. The silence was eerie as he reached to turn off the lamp.

"Are you...sure you're okay?" His voice cracked in the darkness.

"Are you?" She didn't move. "Something…" Her voice died and she wiggled around to face him. "Steve's changed. A lot. Do you think?"

"He has," He kept his voice low as if afraid to be heard.

She stayed quiet a moment as she thought. He held his breath as he waited for her to speak.

"I feel…" She stopped and scoffed at herself. "Would it be wrong to say I'm lonely?"

"Lonely?" He echoed her, "No. Not wrong if that's how you feel."

She sniffed. and rolled onto her back. Her hand came up and she wiped her cheek. She was crying. She rubbed her neck and slowly rescinded her hand. She reached over and touched his. She laced her fingers through his vibranium ones.

"Will you---will you hold me?" She trembled, "Steve doesn't...he's so rough."

Bucky's heart pounded in his ears. This woman who he had just desecrated now looked to him as some sort of comfort. It felt wrong.

"If you want," he said. 

She untangled her fingers from his and nestled closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her instinctively. She pressed her hand to his chest and felt the rise and fall. Could he feel how hard his heart was pounding?

"I'm...sorry." He muttered.

"Me, too," She said. "I thought...this was what I wanted. It was...good at first." She traced a line along his chest. "Bucky?"

"Yes," He replied as he felt a flutter. 

"Are you okay?" She whispered as she looked up at him. Her breath was hot along his jaw.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "No. I don't think I am." He confessed. "I think we should stop. All of this."

"Me too...but--" She gulped and her hand slipped down to grip his side. "I don't wanna lose Steve…" He nodded and bit down on his tongue. "Or you."

"Me?" He looked down at her through the dark. She lifted her head and stared back at him.

"Yes," She shifted closer and pressed herself against him, "But I don't want it to be like this." She reached up and trailed her fingers along his jawline as she leaned over him. "Don't you want me?"

"Of course--" His answer was cut off as she crashed her lips to his. He kissed her back. 

He didn't think, he didn't doubt, he just did. She was soft, warm, delicious. It was wonderful. She cradled his face as she climbed on top of him, her body flush over his. His cock twitched and his hands came up to explore her. His fingers danced over her delicately.

She parted from his lips and he whispered her name. A question. She hushed him as she bent her head and kissed along his neck and shoulders. She lingered on the vibranium, her hand caressed it as if it were truly his. The swirl of her fingertips sent electricity through the metal and his flesh.

She sat up and straddled him. His cock prodded her and she wiggled her hips. He touched her thighs shyly. "We can't--"

"I don't care," She said, "I don't care about the rules. Bucky...what do you want?"

"You," He replied without pause. "I want you."

She reached down and raised herself over him. She guided his cock along her pussy and rubbed the head along her folds before easing onto him. She sighed and he did too. She sank down to her limit and he held her hips as she rocked them. Her pace was slow at first, she tickled the muscles of his stomach as she moved.

Bucky gasped as he felt the flurry around his cock. His hands slid up her sides and he cupped her breasts as she fucked him. Her moans were a melody. Her breaths as heavy as his own as he was swept up in her. 

She pressed her palms to his stomach as she sped up. Her moans turned shrill and she squealed through her panting breaths. He brought one hand to her ass to steady her motion and pressed his other thumb to her clit. She hissed and bucked against him as she came. She shook as her orgasm piqued in the darkness.

Bucky gripped her hips as she continued to rock against him and he rasped. "I'm going to cum." He groaned and she fell forward and clung to him.

"Inside me," She purred and kissed him again. 

He came as he hummed into her lips and she ran her fingers through his hair. She slowed her pelvis as she felt his release and reluctantly parted from his mouth. She leaned her head next to his and shuddered. He exhaled and ran his fingers up her back.

"Shit," She swore in his ear and lifted herself off of him. She fell onto her back and covered her face. "I'm sorry, Bucky...I…"

"It's okay," He said as he pulled her hands away from her face, "We won't tell him."

She stayed quiet but let him guide her to him. He held her as his body buzzed. He couldn't bring himself to feel guilty amidst his rapture. It was like a dream. 

"Sleep," He cooed as he kissed her forehead. "It's okay. You're okay."

-

tags to be added in reblog

[mysterioh]

ᕼEᒪTEᖇ ᔕKEᒪTEᖇ - [1/8]

Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Cop!Reader

Summary: The year is 1989 and what better to prepare for the next decade than with a killing spree? A string of gruesome deaths has thrust the city of New York into absolute mayhem and terror causing intoxicating fear to settle within the niches of the city's underbelly. Having used up every trick in the book and earning nothing, Police Commissioner Stark seeks the aid of the NYPD's most elite task force. 

A force of two. 

A reticent genius and a cheeky casanova.

WARNINGS: Death, Murder, Graphic Depictions of Violence and Gore, Language, Usage of Drugs, All the makings of a Crime Show.

Written for @captainscanadian 1k Writing Challenge!

This is my first time writing crime so be nice to me alfskfjalsda. 

Masterlist

A Call

8:30 P.M. 

L’Artusi

New York, NY

Friday, October 13, 1989

“I thought you forgot about me,” Denise mused. 

Her red-painted nails tinkled against the glass full of Pinot Noir in her hands.

“Me? Forget about you?” Bucky asked in mock surprise. He takes her free hand into his. “Never, sweetheart. I've been missing you.” 

Denise smirks, prim and proper. She’s a beautiful woman with flawless skin kissed by the heated sun (or atleast the canned version) and sharp green eyes that swirl with blue under the right light. Her hair was curled, loaded with pints of hairspray to maintain it’s fluffy texture. She leans forward just a bit, letting the gold necklace adorning the bare skin just above her chest dip into her cleavage and taking Bucky’s eyes with it. 

She brings his attention back to her with a light chuckle. “Miss me?" she repeats like she's mocking him. She plays with her glass, twirling the ruby red liquid inside, and avoids his eyes. "You haven’t spoken to me since that night,” she stated. She sounds like she’s teasing and careless but in reality, she’s hurt. Bucky can tell that much. “Not even a goodbye. Not even a phone call,” she croons and it has him soft and guilty.

Bucky chuckles nervously with a swipe of his fingers through his luscious brown locks. “It wasn’t intentional, Denise. I was just busy with work,” he explained. 

"Too busy for me?" She pouts like a child, batting her long lashes and leans towards him, pushing her chest up while resting her arms on the table. 

He smiles, finding her teasing a bit annoying. But he lets it slide cause she's got a pretty face. 

"I just got caught up, I'm sorry, sweetheart." He takes her hand in his and kisses the back of it. "I'm all yours now," he says smoothly making the woman in front of him swoon. 

"You're a darling, James, I've missed you," she giggled. He chuckles along to the melody of her voice. The cool steel of his eyes melted into a warm blue under the twinkling light of the crystal chandelier. 

In the corner of his eyes, Bucky catches a dark figure walking towards him. Turning his head, his smile sinks when he sees you. 

With every step in his direction, the irritated pout painted on your face tightens a bit more and he gulps quietly. 

You strut towards him. Your scuffed Doc Martens squeak softly against the smooth tile of the restaurant. Your hair was tied back in a loose ponytail with strands shaping the sharp lines of your face. 

Bucky wonders how they let you in while wearing those black ripped jeans paired with a thick black turtleneck tucked in loosely, and topped with a black knee length coat that left a trail of water behind you.

You probably just ignored them. That's what you always did. 

The others in the room paused their conversation to raise a brow. Some murmured indignant remarks while others simply shrugged and returned to their meals. 

As the distance between the two of you shortens, Bucky's mind runs rampid trying to think of all the things he could've done since yesterday to piss you off. 

He emptied out the coffee machine when he was done with it. 

He didn't eat the secret stash of chocolates  you kept hidden behind the cans in the pantry. 

He made sure to never touch your books without asking, even if you left them in the weirdest spots in the apartment. 

Bucky can't think of anything. But even if he had, what could he have done that made you have to come and crash his date? 

You stop in front of the table, water dripping and all, and he smiles nervously. The corners of his eyes crinkling as he does. Denise tilts her head in confusion at the sight of the drenched woman standing in front of them. 

"There you are," you huffed, "I've been looking everywhere for you." 

Bucky's brows wriggle in confusion. He laughs awkwardly. "Well you found me," he jokes. 

You're not laughing. 

Bucky stops laughing and clears his throat. “Right,” he grunts, “Uh—Y/N, this is Denise, my date,” he emphasizes. 

The blonde smiles at you warmly, not minding your intrusive behavior. She lifts a hand towards you. 

“Hi,” she chirps, “my name’s Denise, nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, hi,” you say in passing, not even taking her handshake. You look at Bucky. “We have to go.”

“What?” he furrows his brows. “Why?” 

“Got a call,” you replied curtly.

“Well tell ‘em to leave a message,” he retorts, shooing you away with a hand. 

You cross your arms over your chest and balance your weight on one leg. You give him that look. The look he doesn’t really have a name for. He only knows how to describe it. 

You’re really gonna play this game with me?

Bucky tries not to look at you, but he knows you’re glaring down at him and you weren’t going to move. 

He clicks his tongue and looks up to find you staring at him with cold eyes. He huffs in exasperation and excuses himself from the table by shooting an apologetic smile in Denise's direction. 

He grabs you tight by the arm and pulls you along towards the lobby of the restaurant. You yank your arm out of his grasp and grunt. 

“What’s so important that you couldn’t wait till later?” he snaps. 

"It's urgent," you stated, unwavering in your stance.

"I don't care," he exclaims, making a few snooty waiters frown at him. "We’re taking the night off, remember?” 

“Yeah, I know,” you retorted, “I was having a great night with Charlie but it’s important.” 

Bucky shakes his head not wanting to listen to anything she said. 

"It's Fury," you inform him. "So unless you wanna deal with him, we gotta go now." 

He groans audibly. “You know what?” he scoffs, “Screw Fury. This is my first night off in the past two weeks and it’s yours too. So why don’t you go back home and snuggle with Charlie, huh?”

He turns on his heel and walks back to the table. 

“Bucky,” you call him back. Your shoulders drop with a sigh. You didn’t have to say a word for Bucky to know you were tired. Your face showed it just fine. The bags under your eyes. The dull color of your irises. 

Last time he saw you was earlier that night, snuggled up on the couch in pajamas with your cat napping in your lap and watching the evening news. You didn't have to say a word for him to know how you felt. You've never really had to and maybe that was the reason why you got along so well despite your polar personalities. 

Bucky sighs. He’s tired too and he’s not gonna let anything take his one night away. “Go home, Y/N,” he replies and turns back to leave. 

“It’s them,” you call out, making him stop once again. 

Bucky whips his head back to you then slowly rotates his body. His stubbornness slowly dwindles. His tired eyes fought against the rush of excitement beginning to pool in. His soft lips slowly twist and bend simultaneously with yours and you know you've got him in the bag. 

Friday night just got ten times better. 

9:45 PM

Bed-Nos Avs Station

Bedford-Stuyvesant, NY

Friday, October 13, 1989

“So you’re telling me the Commissioner, big ol’ guy at the top,” Tony mocked, “Called you two,” he pointed at them, “to help me?” 

“Did I stutter?” Bucky retorts. 

Tony laughs from the belly. “I’ve heard better stories from a seven year old, get the hell out of you here, ya nosy reporters,” he waves you off and turns away. 

“We’re not reporters,” you stated with a venomous twinge to your words. “Besides how the hell would we know this fast?” 

Tony turns the two. They're just kids. Probably a few years older than Peter. 

"Then I wanna see proof," Tony retorts, "Where are your badges?" 

Bucky groaned in exasperation. "We don't have badges," he replies. 

It wouldn't have killed Fury to tell his pigheaded men they were coming. 

"Oh," Tony's eyes grow wide as he feigns confusion, "and why is that?" 

“We work with the police not for the police,” Bucky explains. 

Tony shrugs. “No badge, no entrance.” 

A loud grumble escaped your mouth. "We don't have time for your games. Three people are dead and you haven't done anything to stop it. So why don't you move aside and let us work," you push past him.

Lifting the police line, you walk underneath and into the crime scene with Bucky right behind. 

Tony stands there flabbergasted. No one knew of the murders just yet. The police had decided to keep the information confidential until they could figure out what was happening. 

Tony stomps behind them, lifting the police line quickly and slipping underneath. "This is a crime scene and you're not allowed here,” he barks at them. Both of you pay him no mind. After putting on a pair of latex gloves, you pull a mini flashlight out of your pocket and begin to scan the alleyway and it only increases his frustration. "I'll have you arrested for this." 

The two look at each other in confusion.  "Arrested?” Bucky repeated mockingly. “Get outta here man,” he waves him off, beginning to inspect the area himself. 

"Excuse me?" Tony fumes with Peter right behind him. 

"Listen,” you stand straight with your hands on your hips. “Why don't you go call your boss and ask him who we are, hmmm?” you asked, sassily. “And let us do our work?” you gritted before turning back to your observations. You flashed your light over the strips of line used to mark the spot where the body should have been. The dim light flickering above wasn’t much of a help. 

Tony’s lips pursed into a scowl. His jaw clenched tight. He wasn't going to give up just yet. "There is no work to be done,” he walks to Bucky and swipes the flashlight out of his hand. "We've already been through everything." 

Bucky smiles and points a finger up as if to make a point. "As the great poet, Auden, once said: there's more than what meets the eye." 

"Are you trying to say my team is incompetent?" 

"Never," Bucky shakes his head innocently,  "wouldn't want to hurt your feelings, now would we?" he gives Tony a condescending smirk before snatching his flashlight back. 

Tony grumbles. He’s already having a bad day. He’s drenched to the bone, It’s past ten and he promised Morgan he’d make it home just in time for storytime. And now, he’s probably going to have to go home to hear a story from his dear wife of how his job was sucking the life out of him. 

Which it was. Tony couldn’t deny it. Pepper was right. She was always right, but when she advised him that maybe it was time to leave the force and focus on things that were more important, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. He’s written a two-week notice a million times but it never left his desk unless it was going in the trash. His undying loyalty to his city was coming at the costly price of his family. 

Tony watches the two do their thing and a part of him — the tired part of him — wants to give up and just let them do what they want. Who knows? They might just help him. But it’s his pride as Captain that stops him from doing so.  

"Where's the body?" you questioned him. 

"We picked it up,” he states flatly. 

"Before you've done any type of investigation?" 

"It's raining."

"It's dead."

Your tone is cold, callous would be the right word, and it catches Tony off guard for a few seconds. 

"Give us the details,” you bring his focus back. 

Tony sighs. He doesn’t want to say anything but ends up giving in. "Victim was a woman. Caucasian. Most likely middle aged–" 

"Skip to the part that matters.,” you cut him off. You crouch down, umbrella in one hand and the other shining the light along the line of where the building meets the ground for any unseen clues. 

"Stabbed in the chest repeatedly. Not a mugging or rape just a brutal murder." 

"Find a weapon?" 

"No." 

"Witnesses?" 

"No." 

You look up at him with judgemental eyes. "Seems to me like you didn't get anything done." 

Tony’s lips twist into an irritated pout. His eyes flit between you and Bucky. Your friend doesn’t really seem to mind your cutthroat behavior as if it’s normal that people act this rude. 

"It's only been two hours." 

You blink blankly at him. "It took an hour and a half to destroy Pearl Harbor. Ninety minutes and twenty-four hundred dead. Never underestimate the amount of damage a small amount of time can do." 

Tony opens his mouth to retort but for the first time that night he had nothing to say. 

"Alrighty, Captain, trivia question of the night," Bucky calls him. 

Tony turns towards Bucky. He was grinning from ear to ear and Tony doesn’t understand why he’s so damn happy. They’re at a grisly crime scene for Pete’s sake. Bucky stands at the end of the alley towards the street. The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle. 

  "Which way did the killer come from?" Bucky asks. "Left or right?" he said, pointing in each direction with his head. 

If Tony had to be honest, he didn’t think that far yet. "The left,” he says without a thought. 

"Ehn’t!” He sounds like a buzzer on Jeopardy. “Guess again,” 

Tony rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "The right,”  he points in the opposite direction. 

Bucky laughs while shaking his head. "Wrong again." 

Tony grunts. "Then where the hell did he come from?" He snaps at him. 

"You said it just now.” Tony raises a brow at him like he’s crazy. "He came from hell,” he explains while pointing down. "Not literally from hell but from underground." 

"The subway,” Peter chimes in, reminding the crew that he was still there. 

"Ding ding ding,” the older brunette points at him. 

"This isn't a game,” Tony bites. 

"Life is but a game, my dear Captain,” Bucky sighed with a gentle shrug. 

“How are you so sure that she came from the subway though?” Peter questioned. 

“When’s the last time you’ve seen a white lady taking a stroll in the pouring rain in Bed-Stuy, kid?” he poses a question. Peter wags a finger at him in agreement. 

“Also because of this,” you added. Their eyes traveled down to the ID dangling off a lanyard that was hooked by a single finger. “Louisa Clark worked as a receptionist at a hospital near 8th Ave,” you informed, digging into the plastic that held her ID and pulled out a receipt that was mildly wet. “She bought a few tokens at 6:45 this evening to get on the subway.” 

“Where did you find that?” Tony took a step closer to see it. 

“Where your men couldn’t.” you deadpanned. 

Tony glares at you, but you remain steadfast in your expression. He’s not scaring you and he hates that. 

"Rush hour ends around 6:30,” Bucky points out. “And after that the trains are practically empty." 

"Making it a perfect time for a killer to strike,” Tony starts to connect the dots. 

"So he got on the train at the same time and followed her until he had her cornered,” Peter blurted in excitement. 

"Not exactly," you spoil his fun. His shoulders drop sadly, feeling a bit embarrassed. Tony pats Peter’s shoulder with a chortle. "We think that there may have been two of them." 

“You mean two killers?" Tony questions. 

"Yes, one to follow her and one to surprise her." 

"That means they know her schedule,” Peter says in an attempt to redeem himself. 

"Down to the minute," Bucky replies. 

"But how can you say there were two?” Tony brings up the question. “You have no evidence." 

"Harry Tucker," you named. "The first victim was a fifty-three year old Vietnam vet working as a security guard at a bank.” 

Tony’s eyes grow wide in shock. "How do you know that? That's confidential information." 

Bucky laughs, taunting the Captain. "We know a lot of things,” he looks at the man with a despicable smile. Tony holds back the urge to punch his pretty face. “Like I said, your boss asked us to help you so we did a little homework before coming." 

"Anyway…” you bring them back. “he's a big guy but got killed the same exact way. Unless our killer's the Terminator, there had to be two,” you point to fingers up. “One to hold him down and the other to strike." 

"That's amazing,” Peter gasps in awe. Tony sticks his nose in the air and huffs like a child. 

"I don't believe you,” Tony denies them. 

"Never said you had to." Bucky shrugs. "But in a case like this anything is possible." 

"We'd like to inspect the subway,” you pointed across the street. “If that's alright with you." 

Tony clicks his tongue and rubs the back of his aching neck. "I don't own the damn subway, do what you want. Not like you haven't been doing that already. Besides I've got a call to make.” he grumbles as he leaves with Peter behind him. "

The two of you slip underneath the police line and walk across the cleared street with only Tony’s car left behind. You leave your umbrella at the top of the stairs and run down with Bucky right behind you. 

"Y'know, you could've at least acknowledged her,” Bucky pipes up. 

"What?" you turn to him while walking down. 

"Denise,” he reminds,  “She was right there and you ignored her." 

You shrugged indifferently. "I don't see why I should fraternize with people I'll probably never see again." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Buck, you have a new girlfriend every week," you deadpan while jumping over the subway throng. 

"I do not!" he mimics your actions. 

"Denial is the first step to self-destruction, Bucko," you point out, looking around. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. The air is humid due to the rain. The aged walls are grey with paint and signatures in crude letters all over. The concrete ground was splayed with cracks and decorated with litter—old newspapers, empty bags of chips, and garbage. Not a single soul in sight. Not even a rat. 

The train rests in its spot. The doors were opened, letting the stale odor of a day’s worth of human mass mix with sticky air. 

A perfect setting for a murder scene. 

"Besides, Janet, Susie, Dani from the music store,” you counted on your fingers, “the receptionist at HQ shall I go on?" 

Bucky rolls his eyes as he steps into one of the cars to make a quick check. "Okay, the fact that you know about all the girls I've ever come across is just plain weird,” he remarked. 

"I don't think you remember but I am first a detective hence the good observation skills and second, your unfortunate partner and roommate." 

Bucky laughs loudly making his voice echo through the station and the dark tunnel. "Sounds more to me like you're jealous that I'm not taking you out on a date?" 

You stop mid walk and turn back to him with a scowl painted on your face. He thinks it's cute. "You're delusional,” you retorted.  

"But am I wrong?" he counters with an egotistical smirk. You can practically see the pride oozing off of him. You didn’t know where he got it from. He had zero personality and was as dumb as a doorknob. But then again, a fool doesn’t really know he’s a fool. 

"I don't have time to waste on you,” you grumble at him. 

Suddenly, the doors of the train slam shut making the two of you jump back and turn towards the train. The quiet chills your body, igniting goosebumps to bud along the skin of your arm despite the thick layers of cotton over them. 

The bell blares in tandem with blinking red lights signaling the train’s departure from the platform. It threatens like an omen, warning you of the things to come.

 The train departs, slowly at first then accelerating as the cars pass by one by one. A gust of fresh wind blows through the errant strands of your hair as the train speeds past. The sound of wheels chugging along the metal tracks echoes down the tunnel, growing distant with the drag of every minute. 

The sudden burst of fear from the signal bell dies but leaves a sense of apprehension within the two and a message sprayed along the tiled wall across the platform in scarlet red. 

“ꜱᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴀʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʟᴀꜱᴛ”

- ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ᴏᴇᴅɪᴘᴜꜱ

TAGLIST: @chuckennuggets1213 @murdermornings @miraclesoflove @fckdeusername @marshyrebelcloud @flyingowls​ 

[salvosfinest]

Difficult Duties Ch. 6

Tucked underneath the blanket of his futon, Hanzo turned the card over in his fingers, trying to find any secrets. It held the emblem of the Overwatch organization, and listed this Jesse McCree as a consultant. Just a consultant?

Scrunching up his nose, the urge to just toss the card across the room was in the forefront of his mind, but his forearm remained still, fingers gripping onto the card like it was going to fly away. Giving in to his curiosity, he rolled over to find where his phone was plugged in, awkwardly typing in the number with the hand of the arm he laid on, having to angle the card just right to read it properly. Once the number was in his phone, he hesitated. No, if you have questions, now is the time. Hanzo told himself with a quiet breath. Rolling onto his back, he found it difficult to even type out what was on his mind. When the message was sent, he just put his phone facedown on his chest, staring at the ceiling.

Are you sure you won’t hunt me down?

Such a simple question took him what felt like years to type, and it felt like decades waiting for a response, eyes squeezed shut. The vibration on his stomach made him jump, his anxiety through the roof. Squinting in the darkness, he lifted his phone to read the reply.

Only if you won’t cause any trouble. Otherwise we’re as right as rain. :) Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping right now?

The concern for his well-being made Hanzo scoff internally, shaking his head against the pillow - good thing nobody was around to see his irritation. It would have been a difficult time explaining the entire situation. It’s not every day some tanned cowboy comes into the bar, says he was sent to get some answers, then leaves without a fuss. Who in the world does that?! At least show some hostility! Realizing he was staring at the dimmed text message, he decided to reply. There was something interesting about this man, at least.

I’ve caused enough trouble. Shouldn’t I say the same to you? Or are you experiencing “jet lag”?

It was refreshing speaking to someone so casually. It was always formalities and--

DOOT-DOOT-DOOT!

Oh holy hell-- why was he calling?! In a panic, he answered, voice groggier than expected. “Hello?”

“Hey, sorry for callin’, but it felt a bit blase askin’ it over text - you wanna go ‘round and introduce me to some late-night, uh, fun things?” Hanzo nearly audibly spluttered as he sat up, finally speaking through what seemed like an uncontrollable stutter. “You what-- late night fun things?”

“Uh... yeah. I dunno, you seemed awfully down on your luck back there. What do you call ‘em in Japanese? Konbinis? Yeah. It seems fun when you’re not by yourself, lookin’ at how different they are. America has convenience stores and stuff, right, but this is a whole other level.” Hanzo was floored by the audacity. To call him. At two in the morning. To ask to go convenience store hopping. Sighing softly, his line of thought was broken up by a, “You there?”

“Yes, yes, I’m just... very confused.” He spoke as he got to his feet, searching for his discarded hoodie and jeans. “You are asking me to go around convenience stores with you.”

“Well, yeah. It ain’t like I flew over with someone. And it gives me time to get to know ya. I got my own curiosities, too. Innocent ones, granted. But there’s only so much you can read ‘bout someone.” Read about? Shaking his head, he passed his phone between his hands as he got his hoodie on, standing inside of where he had left his jeans.

“There is a Seven-Eleven nearby where we met. I will meet you there.” He hung up, slipping his phone into the pocket in the front of his hoodie, pulling his pants up. He left his room and headed for the front door, picking up his keys to stuff them in a pocket, then he shoved his feet into his slip-on sneakers, leaving as quietly as possible, locking up behind him. Hanzo knew his omnic protector would be worried - he never truly understood why. He didn’t think much of them anyway.

It didn’t take him long to find the 7-11 that he spoke of through the back alleys of where he lived, standing off underneath a pillar, looking to his phone once more. Of course there was a message left behind.

Awfully rude to hang up without saying goodbye. :p

Why was this man like this? Rolling his eyes, he tucked his phone away, pulling the opening of his hoodie up around his jaw with a nervous breath. Genji had always been the more social one, drawing people in with his energy. Making friends was difficult when you were taught to be the master of the house. The sound of clicking against the concrete roused him from his thoughts, looking in the direction it came from to see Jesse, still wearing the same outfit he had met the man in. Apparently he really was a night owl.

“There ya are. Hey, you ain’t angry at me, are you? I’d say short but--”

“Please don’t make a short joke at my expense.” It was true - comparatively, he was smaller, and he really didn’t want that to be made even clearer. His apparent hostility made the man raise his hands at shoulder-level, that same good-natured grin coming to his face. “Thought I’d test my luck in makin’ ya laugh. I’ll get ya one of these days.” Jesse then snapped his fingers, “You in the mood for somethin’ sweet? I got a huge sweet tooth right now - and somethin’ cold.” There was always ice cream, but he did want to be introduced into more of his culture. Wordlessly, Hanzo stepped into the convenience store, hearing the click of the cowboy’s heels behind him. He reached into a freezer and picked out two small wrapped mochis, taking them to the front. Reaching for his wallet, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Lemme get that. You only gotta give me your company and knowledge, yeah?” As he watched the cashier ring up their treats, he felt his brow knit in thought. The warmth in his chest was disconcerting, to say the least. Hearing Jesse move away from the counter, he picked up both pieces of mochi and headed to the tables outside that were off to one side.

“If you had to choose, would you choose sesame or tea?” He could smell the confusion coming off of the cowboy, then Hanzo turned to watch him lean in and look at the two. He picked the green one with a smile. “I actually like macha, thank ya. You don’t gotta ask me that at least. Got a coworker who likes makin’ different kinds of coffees and teas, and she shares with me.” He sat and removed the plastic wrapper, looking out to the nearby skyscrapers as he ate - which caused Hanzo to snap out of whatever funk he was in, seating himself and doing the same. Why was he watching?

“So, I got a question. You got any kind of hobbies? Things you’re really passionate about?” Looking up, Hanzo caught the cowboy smiling at him again, the mochi untouched - perhaps he had assumed the man would have just dug in without a second thought. “I... was proficient in archery, and crafting specialized arrows to, say, find things.” He explained, glancing off as he bit into his mochi. He nearly choked when he heard the other man squeak, watching him put a hand over his mouth out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s chewy! What in the world is this?” For once, Hanzo actually felt himself smiling, which he hid behind a hand. It was awfully demure for a man, but he didn’t want to appear weak in front of this man. “It is called mochi. There isn’t a word in English to describe its texture. It is made out of rice flour.” He watched Jesse consider the sweet in his hand, then the cowboy turned that easy smile on him.

“Y’know, I think I like it.”