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internalsealpanic · 3 years

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For What It’s Worth

Summary: A deal with the devil goes smoothly. a/n: As a joke, my co-writer suggested I post daddy kink fics on Father’s Day. Here’s Roman’s bwahahhahahahahahah. No further thought process was put into this. warnings: dub con, daddy kink, cockwarming, and infidelity/cheating

Masterlist

The men drag you into a lavish room. It's sleek with large glass windows and a wooden floor shined like mirrors. You think it's pretty but you can't help but think of how impractical it is to have such large windows until you consider how much money Roman Sionis has and how he'd probably spend it on bulletproof windows. You rub your arm as one of the men shoves you forward to face none other than Black Mask himself. You try to keep your posture straight which is made easier by the fact that the man refuses to even look up from his work.

"Boss, we found this woman lurking in the halls. She said she had some business with you."

"I- I work for the Maronis… Sort of.." You didn't lie about working for the Maronis but Sal Maroni wasn't in town and he certainly didn't have a message for Roman. "But I'm not here for the Maronis today, Mr. Sionis. I'm here to ask for an extension for my husband's debt."

This gets Roman to look up from his paperwork. "How did you get past my security?" He says, scrutinizing. Your limbs are shaking. Maybe it would have been better if you could convince Mal to just skip town but that wasn't an option. Roman already had men looking for him.

You swallow in a vain attempt to steady your rapidly fraying nerves. "I told them I was here to deliver a message from Salvatore Maroni and showed them proof," Your voice gets quieter as you speak, "that I forged." You clear your throat trying to wrestle up some bravado. "Anyway, I'm here to try and ask if you can extend my husband's debt."

Roman waves one of the men over. The man thrusts his hand out for the ID you'd shown him earlier and the supposed note from Maroni. They all look well made. They would probably be good enough to fool even a detective given you were able to clean them up a bit. Roman is quietly impressed but he's also annoyed that you had managed to sneak in and disturb his work. "Who would that be?" He asks, not looking up from your work.

"His name is Mal... Mal (L/n)." Your husband has worked for Sionis even before you two were married before he came clean to you. He swears he'll get out of the life as soon as he manages to pay off this debt. He swore on his mother. Roman is looking at you, brow raised and mouth drawn into a flat line like he really can't remember who Mal is. How can he not remember someone his people are hunting down?

"He-- he runs drugs for you." Still nothing. "And he- he told me he owes you a large debt and that's why you've been sending men to find him for the last few days." You say in one long breath. You were exhausted just thinking about the false facers hanging around outside your home and the number of times they've harassed your neighbors for Mal's whereabouts.

"Oh yeah, him." Roman says, setting down the ID and resting his chin on intertwined fingers.

You dig your nails into your palms. It was uncomfortable the way he's sizing you up.

Roman looks away from you momentarily, focusing instead on his glove and what you assume is a spec of dust pinched between his fingers. "So what do you have to offer?"

You hold back a relieved breath and begin rifling through your bag. "Well, we can offer our house as a collateral and there's also the shop and maybe... the car but that may not be worth much..." You really didn't own anything substantial. Nothing that would interest a mob boss anyway and you didn't have any valuable information from working with the Maronis. But what you could do was beg. Men in power love nothing more than a reminder of their power and even with your meager possessions with enough honeyed words, you could buy your time. You just need to buy Mal sometime and you could work something out. "If we offer up more of our possessions as collateral we could- we could pay the debt off in a couple of years. Maybe a little more. Mal and I just need a bit more time."

A dark chuckle rises from Roman's chest at the hopeful look in your eyes. "You think you can pay that off in a couple of years? How much do you think your husband owes?"

You stop rummaging through your bag. Your head tilts up slowly to look at a grinning Roman. Nervously, you fidget with your ring as you rack your brain for the exact amount Mal told you. Was it a hundred grand or was it more? Did Mal even really tell you or did you come up with some reasonable number?

"Sweetheart, I asked you a question," Roman says with a snap of his fingers.

You flinch. "He- He told me it's only a couple hundred grand-"

Roman barks out a laugh that echoes in the room. "Either your husband is stupider than I thought he was or... Do you think I would send men after him for chump change?" He says, voice rising with his temper.

"No..." You whimper shrinking in on yourself. Mal, what have you done?

He likes that sound. "Sweetheart, that husband of yours owes me 5 mil." Roman leans back in his chair to look at you. Not bad, he thinks. "Sir that- that can't be right..."

Oh, Roman definitely likes the way 'sir' rolls off your tongue. "You're right. It's technically 5.4."

You choke. Your stomach is hurtling to the ground with a splat.

Roman beckons you to come close. You're too dizzy and numb to disobey. You don't even react when Roman slides you into his lap or when he places a hand over one of your thighs. Your body reacts to his touch but your mind is still caught up in the numbers. How could you not have known Mal had so much debt? How could he hide it from you?

"Do you want to tell me I’m wrong again?" He asks, squeezing your thigh. You whimper. The simple touch and the gravelly voice in your ear was much more attention than what you'd gotten in months. You try to shush yourself but your breathing is already starting to get labored. Roman's lips quirk in amusement as he feels your body starting to tremble. "I can show you just exactly what he spent 5 million on if you’d like."

You really don't know if you want to but it's not like your input really matters at the moment. Roman snaps his fingers and one of the men in the room hands him a tablet. He grasps your chin with a firm hand to make sure you're paying attention. You try to wriggle out of it for a second but then give up, paying full attention to the numbers on the screen. "He spent an awful lot at one of my whore houses last month."

You go completely still at the words. You look hurt but nowhere on your face could Roman find any spec of surprise. He wouldn't doubt that this isn't the first time your husband strayed from you considering how much of his debt was spent there.

Your eyes go misty. Your body begins to tremble with barely contained anger. You try to breathe and calm yourself. Digging your nails into your palms, you walk yourself through a breathing exercise. Mal told you it was the last time when you'd caught him for the second time. He begged you on his knees for you to stay telling you that it was gonna be the last time.

Roman's hand slides up your inner thigh, inching your skirt up. "Did you know that’s what he spends his nights doing?" Your breath hitches you clamp your thighs together.

"I bet you’ve been so lonely haven’t you darling?" Roman whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He presses circles into your flesh. "Barely touched…barely kissed. Just waiting for your dearest husband to come home." He nips at the spot behind your ear that makes you pull his shirt into a tight fist. Your head is hazy with a swirl of emotion but all you can concentrate on is the way Roman's touch is so firm against your body. "And here he is, at the Rosette Club." Roman places the tablet in your hands for you to see your husband standing impatiently at the front desk.

You let out a strained breath and your legs easing at his touch. Roman rewards you with a pleased hum. "It's funny," he says, inching your skirt up. "The girl he requests the most has a passing resemblance to you. Wonder why he would bother paying if he's got you at home begging for his cock." Roman brushes his lip against your neck. Your body reacts wonderfully to his actions, leaning back to give him space to do as he pleases. Your warm body is so pliant to his touch and your voice is so sweet. "I can’t understand why he’d pass you up for another whore."

Roman's hand brushes the edge of your lace panties and he smirks. "Darling, did you wear those for me?" He toys with the fabric before stroking your clothed pussy, feeling the wet heat. "Would you like to hear my counteroffer?"

You nod, trying to keep quiet. You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. Roman grips your chin to force you to look at him. "I'm going to need you to be a good girl for me first." You swallow. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?"

You nod your head vigorously. It's hard to care about how eager you seem.

"Words, doll." Roman says coolly, yanking your head back by your hair.

"Yes- Yes, sir. I'll be good."

You just miss someone wanting you.

"Good,"He releases your hair. He grips your hip tightly as he starts undoing his belt. You suck in a sharp breath when his cock springs free. Roman can see you staring which certainly inflates his ego. "Sit on my cock and don't move until I tell you to, got it doll?" He says, stroking his cock.

You nod again, then quickly add: "Yes, sir."

You shift to face him, flicking your eyes towards the other men in the room. Roman snaps his finger. The men leave without a word. You're not stupid enough to think it's purely for your sake but you don't really think about it much as you push your underwear to the side.

"Good girl." Roman says, gripping the back of your neck as he guides you down onto his cock.

You cry out in short pants as you slide down his length. You feel your insides stretch for him. The veins of his cock hitting all the right spots. Roman grunts as your warmth swallows him down to the hilt. You let yourself adjust to his girth, grinding your hips against his.

Roman leans forward. You brace your hands against his shirt, waiting for him to pound into you... he doesn't. You open your eyes and watch Roman put on glasses and continue to work.

You squirm, trying to get him to move. Roman answers with a warning squeeze of your hip. "Now sit still sweetheart, I’ve got things I need to finish."

You pant heavily and wrap your arms around his neck sitting as still as possible.

Roman makes this incredibly difficult as he trails a hand up and down your spine and kneads your ass while he works.

You quietly breath daddy into his ear while he works in both desperation and retaliation.

Roman's patience is waning based on how hard he grips your flesh. It makes your skin heat and the coil in your stomach wind tighter. You squirm a bit trying to shift the angle just a little, just enough to hit the right spot.

"Sweetheart," he says in a warning tone, "what did I tell you?"

"I’m sorry daddy, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable." You nuzzle your face into his neck breathing deeply. He smells like cigar smoke and whiskey.

Roman doesn’t have the heart to scold you since you're behaving so well. "Are you always this good for your husband?" Roman sneers, squeezing your ass and moving your closer to him.

"Yes sir. I try to be." You're incredibly embarrassed considering the situation and trying so hard not to move your hips.

"You’re this well behaved and he doesn’t fuck you?" Roman grinds out as you squeeze around him. "Then again, you are married to an idiot."

Roman tilts your chin to look at your face. Your husband really is an idiot, Roman thinks as he looks into your desperate, half-lidded expression.

"No wonder you were so touch starved," he says, starting to bounce you on his cock, "it’s a crime to leave a sweet ass like this untouched for months."

You let out a shaky breath as he continues the lazy pace, grinding his cock inside you in shallow strokes.

"Were you hoping he'd finally fuck you if your saved his skin?"

"Maybe." You whimper. You close your eyes, winding your arms tightly around his shoulders. You push your husband out of your mind and do your best to concentrate on the cock pulsing inside you. It was far too easy especially when he'd apparently pushed you out of his long before. "I- I just miss being touched."

Roman brings his hand down on your ass and the slap rings out in the room. Your greedy hole strangles his cock. "Don't worry sweetheart, daddy will take good care of you." He grinds out.

It's about another hour before Roman gets done both from being purposefully slow and being very distracted by all the little things your body does to let him know just how desperate you are.

Roman, finally done with his paperwork, runs his hand through his hair and leans back into his chair. That might have been the longest hour of his life. "Get off." He orders, brusquely. His patience was a hair's breadth from completely dissolving.

You whine and pout at him but use your shaky limbs to get off of Roman, moaning as his cock drags against your walls.

He can see the desire slick on your thighs. "Get on the desk and spread your legs for daddy." Roman says, loosening his tie.

He stands up and pushes you back onto the desk. You scoot back, careful not to disturb the paperwork much to Roman's amusement. You spread open your legs wide, the bottom of your heels catching his legs.

You're so wet for him that you're dripping onto the desk. He looks into your debauched face and Roman's cock twitches in his hand. You would definitely make a killing at the Rosette Club. Roman pumps his cock as he watches you stroke your clit in time with his hand. You purr his name softly as you look at him with hooded eyes.

"Christ sweetheart, look at you. You're such a good little slut." Roman grinds out.

"Please, daddy."

"Put your fucking hand away." He growls.

You pull your hand away from your pussy and bring it to your lips. You lick up a long stripe, lapping up your own juices.

Oh, he is definitely keeping you for himself.

Roman pulls you closer to him and hooks your legs around his waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "Please daddy, I need you." You dig the bottom of your heels into his ass drawing out a sharp breath from him.

Roman kisses you, running his hands up and down your sides. You melt into the kiss consumed by the touches and passion you've missed for months.

He pulls back and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, biting it before licking over it to soothe the sting. The head of Roman's cock teases your folds, parting them just slightly. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he goes readily, deepening the kiss.

Roman slides his cock back into you and you scream into the kiss. He fucks you recklessly into the wood of the desk. It screeches and scrapes against the wooden floor as his cock thrusts deep into your pussy.

Groping and claiming every part of you he can reach, Roman pulls back from the kiss. He yanks on your shirt, causing one of the buttons to pop off, then sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You hiss his name, the stinging on your shoulder mixing with the pleasure.

"Tell me doll, has that husband of yours ever made you feel this good?"

"No, sir. Ah! He- He's never been able to- Ah! Satisfy me like this."

"That's right, baby. You'll only be hungry for Daddy's cock, won't you?"

"Yes, sir." You say in a breathy moan, dragging your nails across his neck.

Roman hisses a litany of curses in your ear as your pussy milks his cock, gripping him and making it harder for him to pull away. He pushes you flat on your back as he thrusts his cock deeper into you.

He bites your shoulder again. Your walls spasm around him. "You tighten so nicely around me when I do that." Roman hisses bites you again, then groans. "Christ, baby, just like that."

After a few more thrusts, you cum on Roman's cock with a pathetic little whimper. He empties himself inside you with a groan.

You lay on the table flat on your back, your breathing harsh.

Roman straightens himself out like nothing ever happened. He sneers down at you. You look completely fucked out and hazy from your orgasm.

"You're going to work for me," he says. You sit up and nod as best you can. Roman leans forward, nibbling on your neck and caging you in with his hands. "And you're going to come to my office any time I ask."

"I-" You swallow down the raspiness of your voice and try to sound as pleasant as possible. "Of course, sir."

Roman yanks your head to the side. "You’re such a good girl for daddy." He purrs, sucking a mark behind your ear. "Tell me the truth sweetheart, does that two-bit gangster even know you're here?"

You shake your head. This was your last resort plan after your contacts backed out of helping you get out of the city. You could easily create new identities for you and Mal but getting out of the cities without being hounded down by False Facers was an entire different problem. One you didn't have time or the resources to resolve. But somehow all that planning felt like it went to waste. Mal was never going to change for you.

"Mal thinks I'm going to my boss to beg him for a loan."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because Mr. Maroni would never lend me the money if he knew what it was for. He thinks Mal is a waste of an investment..."

"You really are wasted on that husband of yours." Roman tuts, stroking the side of your face. You soak up the affection shamelessly. You know full well it's wrong to seek comfort in someone else especially someone like Roman but... you feel lonely and used and you just want someone that wants you so openly.

"Get dressed," Roman says, taking out his phone, "and get your things from that shit hole you call a house."

You open your mouth to ask him why and where but he cuts you off with an annoyed look.

"If you're going to be my pet, I can't wait an hour to fuck you."

Your cheeks heat up as you shuffle to get dressed. You look nice bent over and flushed, Roman thinks. Maybe he should bend you over his desk sometime. No point mulling it over now. He'll have time to think about it.

You quietly mutter a thank you sir before exiting the room with your legs awkwardly clamped together, your cute little cunt still filled to the brim with his seed.

It should take you about an hour to pack your things and get back to him. Maybe longer if that husband of yours begs you to stay. Well, Roman can eliminate that second possibility right away.

He opens his phone and sends a video with the message: "Your debt is paid."

If your husband is smart, he'll skip town.

If he's stupid, he'll rack up more debt.

If he's even stupider, he'll protest.

Either way, Roman has you and if you're as smart as he thinks you are, you'll be worth the 5.4 mil in and out of his bed. If you aren't and he gets bored, he could always just stick you in one of his whore houses and make a killing. There's no shortage of men with deep pockets who'd like to get their hands on a hussie like you.

It's all a win-win for Roman.

#Roman Sionis #roman sionis x reader #Black Mask #black mask x reader #dc smut #smut

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brittledame · 3 years

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Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori, Yamagata Hayato, Reon Oohira, Semi Eita, Shirabu Kenjirou, Kawanishi Taichi, Goshiki Tsutomu

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags: SFW, gender neutral reader, first date nerves, fluff, ages not specified

Notes: I did this instead of working on the other projects bc I wanted some fluff and here it is!

Ushijima:

On a visit with his grandmother is when he’s told about a local pottery masterclass happening the following weekend, piquing his interest

After some research, he comes to learnt that pottery is the perfect relaxing hobby with the added benefit of fine tuning his dexterity

It didn’t take much else to convince him to go

It was only after talking to a friend that he realises he should probably invite someone to tag along

After his grandmother politely declines, he follows her coy suggestion of inviting someone he likes

He invites you seemingly out of the blue

You’ve known him for a great deal of time and done some activities with him that could be construed as “romantic” and only started dating when Ushijima stated your relationship status to his team nearly a month ago

The look on your face when you found out at the exact moment as his team was priceless

After that, Ushijima left your relationship status on no uncertain terms and practically broadcasted it in his own unique way

This pottery class serves as another way to spend more time with you

After a few minutes of the pottery teacher painstakingly going through the motions to make a basic pot, a whirring noise followed by wet splattering steals your attention away from the clump of clay that is slowly taking form.

You glance over to find Ushijima looking at you, nonplussed at the mess of what was his pot now decorating his mock and forearms, his face is not left unmarked with the few splotches painting his cheek

You gape at him as he blinks as if coming out of a daze and looks down at the poor clump of clay and murmurs a small, “Oh.”

You didn’t mean to laugh, not really, but the utter surprise in his tone topped you over

After a mild scolding from the teacher and a new clump of clay, the two of you were good to go once again

The both of you took longer than most of the class, you with fussing about the tiny bumps you just couldn’t seem to smooth out and Ushijima with his second try

The class seemed to have unlocked his innate mastery of the ancient craft, as the pot looked near store-quality, you note with an ounce of envy

The group takes a break over some snacks and drinks as the pots are loaded into the kiln

Ushijima meticulously picks through the various glazes they had to offer, seeking your assistance after you picked your own out

You suggest the purple as homage to Shiratorizawa, where you two met, and the dark-rich brown, claiming it reminded you of his eyes

He considers you for a moment, a long enough pause for you to think over your words and begin to regret them before he nods decidedly and proudly presents the glazes he picked to the lady

With the class wrapping up, the lady running the class pops up as you two inspect your creations.

“Do you mind if I take a picture to post on our social media?”

Ushijima shakes his head as you answer, “We don’t mind.”

She flashes a wide smile and aims her phone in your direction. “Great! Say ‘pottery’.”

On cue you plaster on smile and brandish the clay creation as the camera clicks.

The lady, who is somehow even more dirtied than Ushijima, inspects the picture.

“You two are so cute together!” She fawns over the two of you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your date together.”

She disappears before either of you can correct her.

You blurt out, "Is this a date?"

A pause. Then a hum, "I suppose it is."

A shared smile, you leave the studio with linked hands.

When you get home, you prowl through the studio’s page and find the picture and break out into gut-clutching laughter at the almost-pained looking smile Ushijima makes, tiny pot perched in his large hands adding a comedic effect.

After you recover, you end up saving it and making it your screen saver.

Tendou:

For all his casual confidence, you’re the one to ask him out and he’s the one to officially declare it the “big” first date

The plan was to go manga/book shopping and eat at the in-store cafe

It sounded like a pretty cut-and-dry standard date but with Tendou anything can turn into an adventure

Ecstatic is an understatement on how excited Tendou was for the weekend

He was nearly berated a dozen times for not paying enough attention to what he was doing and almost caused a small fire at one stage

You didn’t fare much better, either

The pair of you got a great deal of laughter from relaying it to one another in the late night hours before meeting up

Although underneath it all lurked the residual anxiety he tried to fight away, so he reminds you during the call, just to check that you didn’t regret inviting him out

As much as he despised the thought, the dark voice whispering at him that you would stand him up were quickly silenced when you show up with a bright smile and his name on your lips

Tendou reckons it’s the sweetest noise he’s ever heard, right after your laughter that he coaxes out with the little melodies he sings to himself as the two of you make way to the popular bookstore

After arriving, you wonder apart to check out separate sections and end up meeting at again the in-store café with books in hand

Over the chocolate cake slice Tendou brought to share, you take turns to gush over the selected choices spread across the tabletop

“I mean it isn’t that over done.” You argue, popping another forkful of the overly-sweet cake into your mouth.

Tendou throws his hands into the air. “Are you serious? Hero meets bad guy, then they fight a whole bunch, bad guy kills a bunch of people and the hero never kills the guy because he ‘doesn’t want to stoop to their level’,” You don’t mask your laughter at the overexaggerated deep voice Tendou imitates. “It’s not fair to the people that the bad guy goes to hurt later on.”

“Oh, I entirely agree with you there.” You take a moment to wonder how Tendou has eaten nearly half the thing to himself already, you’ve barely been seated for longer than a few minutes. “When done wrong, the whole ‘taking the high ground’ troupe is really tacky.”

Tendou blinks at you like he didn’t expect you to respond. You raise a brow at him as a toothy grin spreads over his face, a slight pink painted across his pale cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like talking to someone that knows their stuff, is all. Don’t get me wrong, miracle boy is great company, but I can only try to convince him to read more than the ads they run for so long before I go insane.” He chuckles under his breath, words heartfelt enough that a matching heat spreads across your cheeks.

“I enjoy this too.”

A wide grin overtakes his face at your admittance.

“Well then, let’s not stop!” He offers, stretching his hand towards yours. You clasp it, feeling delicate against his larger one. “I still have to tell you about the whole ‘boy is given power he doesn’t know how to control and needs to find a grumpy mentor’ troupe next!”

You squeeze his hand. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on that one.”

Tendou clicks his tongue and wags his finger at you. “It’s not necessarily about my thoughts, it’s the conspiracy I think the troupe ties into.”

The seriousness in his tone made you pause, looks like you were in for a long one.

Amongst him linking the heroes journey and the innate desire for power over others, you marvel at the way his whole body comes alive when talking about something he loves.

It’s much later on, when he’s introducing you to his friends at a reunion, that you notice the bubbly and animated way he presents you to his friends, love evident in each and every word.

Semi:

Now you would think he’d be the calm and collected one after knowing each other for half a decade and dating for a month

Nope.

He's the type to plan to ask you at the perfect time, and will be in a pissy mood if he misses the "perfect" opportunity to ask

When he does finally pose the question, you’ll say yes and he’s ecstatic

Though, he will play it cool and be like, "Ok I'll text you the details later." And flash you the biggest smile that has you melting inside just a little

When he's trying to sleep that night it finally hits him

Oh shit he has to plan a date with the girl he’s been hopelessly pining for

After one text from you confirming you don’t mind where he picks, he’s both relieved and more stressed because now he has to analyse every little thing he knows about you and eventually starts doubting himself

In the end, he decides to play it safe and go with the popular, family owned cafe that plays live music Saturday afternoons

It was perfect, the music act would be quiet enough to still talk if you two wanted or serve as a mediator to break any awkward silence should it pop up

It is honestly the perfect date, in his mind

Comes the day and he swings around your place after agreeing to walk to the café together

The walk is characterised with the brisk autumn wind and catching each other up on what’s been going on during the week

The conversation doesn’t stop from there – something Semi could cry happily over

After ordering and grabbing a seat close to a stage set-up to the side, you note how bright and talkative Semi is and vow to yourself to see this more often

As he takes a sip in the middle of explaining the difference pick positions affects plucking sounds, you comment on his excitement

Even with the flush on his cheeks, he holds a suave facade and merely says that it’s hard to unwind when his friends can be so chaotic when they get together

From there he starts opening up and imparting little facts about himself that you commit to memory

You come to learn that his favourite colour was corn-silk yellow before he went to Shiratorizawa, now it’s royal purple. He loves tekka maki and boasts his mum’s hand-made ones to be the best in the world and offers to share it with you next time she makes them

All of these things slot into what you know about Semi, filed alongside the nuance’s you’ve noticed yourself.

When he’s unsure or embarrassed, he tousles his hair. And when he talks about something he’s passionate with, his hands start gesturing all about the place

You could’ve spent the whole afternoon like that, in the intimately-lit café, hidden amongst the dull chatter of the surrounding patrons, just listening to Semi’s soothing timbre

But life had other plans

The lights on the stage brighten as someone wearing comfortable clothes strolls on and perches up on the stool set-up in front of a lone microphone. She didn’t give off any signs of discomfort at being stared at as she sets up her guitar, giving a few testing strums before introducing herself and launching into her music.

It was only then that conversation broke and ushered in a lilting voice floating on gentle notes.

“They’re amazing.” You breath, eyes not leaving the stage until the musician dismounts from the stage.

“That’s what I want to do one day.”

You turn to him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” The corner of Semi’s lips quirk up a bit, a secret shared unto himself.

“Why?”

Genuine curiosity spurs you to ask, to know. While you could picture Semi perched on the same stool with a guitar all too easy, you never really thought Semi would pursue a career in the industry.

Semi finally turns to you, a fire in his eyes that was normally caused by volleyball and a good challenge. “I want to make people happy and sad - all the emotions really. I want someone to look at me like you did to that girl.”

Tilting your head you say, “Looking at her like what?”

Semi audible swallows. “Like someone that loves the music I make.”

Reaching over the table, you run your thumb over the backs of his knuckles, a comforting gesture. “Semi, I already love talking to you and hanging out, so why wouldn’t I like the music you write?”

The resultant blush on Semi’s face was answer enough to that, even though he tries to hide it behind his cup.

After that, meeting up at the café ends up becoming a weekly occurrence, an oasis that you both look forward to in the midst of life’s chaos.

Yamagata:

Yamagata actually is the smoothest out of them all

After a two weeks of dating, he bounces up to you after a particularly hard day and offers to take you somewhere fun the next day

Your definition of ‘fun’ varies from his, as you soon find out

Where Yamagata believes the best way to get to know someone and have fun simultaneously is putting them through challenges, whereas you believe sitting down and chatting to be the most optimal method

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, the paint ball range is closed

Amusement park it is

He leaves it as a surprise and doesn’t tell you until you question the sign of the park he visited frequently as a kid

Overall, you have an absolute ball with him, never a dull moment

Especially after the ferris wheel when Hayato goes to reach for his phone to check the time and finds it missing

The only reason he had it out in the plastic swinging booth was to take a sneaky picture of you looking carefree and relaxed as you gazed down at the park – not that he admitted to that when you asked just how it escaped his pocket

Obviously, it was a very slippery phone since this was the third time this week alone he lost it

After tracking it down with the help of the kind but tired ride operator, the two of you were on your merry way to the next ride, but not without a few light-hearted digs at Yamagata’s forgetfulness

You get to learn a lot about each other personally while waiting in line and over lunch after recovering

At the end of the day, your cheeks ache from much smiled

“I don’t remember it being that crazy as a kid.” Yamagata says, looking pale and breathing shallowly, as if to keep himself from being sick.

You couldn’t blame him, the rollercoaster he convinced you to go on under the guise of “This was my favourite one as a kid! You wouldn’t deny a man from reliving his childhood, would you?”

And like a fool you caved under the pout like a badly cooked soufflé. Now you wished you put up a bit of a fight against going on it. The screams of the riders before you were not exaggerated in the slightest.

“I don’t know how they allow kids on that.” Is all you supply, feeling a little green as well.

Yamagata directs you to the nearest bench and you follow his lead and slump into the seat.

“I don’t know how I forgot how much that thing threw me around. I must’ve just about fell off as a tiny kid. Remind me to thank my dad for coming on with me.”

You try not to laugh at the image of a tiny Yamagata ecstatically cheering as the ride swings around corners at full speed as his dad frantically tries to keep his clueless son from getting tossed out of the cart.

“Your dad is a brave man to go on that thing wilfully.”

Yamagata grimaces. “Brave is a nice way of putting it. I’d call it being insane to put up with me wanting to ride it eight times over.”

This time you do laugh.

“It must be hard saying no to your own kid, though, so cut him some slack.” You joke, knocking your elbow against his side.

He playfully pushes you away, widely grinning once again. The heat from the sun blaring ahead suddenly floods into your cheeks. The sensation of your heart feeling too large for your ribcage seizes you.

And the feeling doesn’t leave, it sticks with you as he laughs, as he drops his ice cream and pouts like a child. It intensifies as a dreamy look enters his eyes as he recalls a fond memory associated with a ride.

You hope that one day that he makes the same expression when he recalls this day spent with you.

Reon:

For some reason, Reon seems like the kind of guy to be inherently talented with gardening

He’s the resident green thumb alongside Ushijima, people pass their dying plants into Reon’s hands for magical resurrection

So it was a no-brainer for him to take you to the local botanical gardens

Rife with both native and exotic flora, there were many scenic walks available, thus was the perfect place for a first date to Reon

Reon meets you at the gates with a soft greeting and an outstretched hand – you two walk through the park with your hand intertwined like that for the rest of the day

Throughout the walk, he points out flowers and gives you their common name and their meanings, along with the meanings he gave them as a kid

It was entirely too cute for your poor heart

“And those are yellow carnation.” He points to a patch of bright yellow flowers with soft-looking ruffled petals. “They represent dislike and disappointment towards the person you give them to, but as a kid I thought they meant that she was my sunshine because of the colour. My mum got quite the kick out of it when I gave them to her for her birthday.”

You burst into laughter, unable to smother it even with Reon’s apparent embarrassment at the event

If your allergies start to play up too badly, Reon will take you to his favourite part, a densely packed section of the gardens filled with trees, concealing a secluded tiny red bridge stretched across a large koi pond with the largest and most colourful koi you’ve seen

Everything within you wanted to stretch this moment out, you could easily live in this moment forever. The buzzing of cicadas in the distance, the grass blades tickling the palms of your hands from where you sat, the soothing rumble of Reon’s voice – this is your personal slice Elysian peace

You did not want to give this up

It’s there that he finally unlinks your hands and brings out the packed lunch he made.

“You made all this?” You gape, taking in the diverse range of food he brought out of his bag.

From seared fish placed neatly atop seasoned rice, to perfectly rounded onigiri. In the next box he opens sat seasoned chicken and beef slices that made your mouth water. Not to mention the salad of rich greens, reds, and yellows that called your name.

Reon chuckles at your awe. “Yeah, I did. I thought it would be nice to eat something home-made while out here, but if you wan to grab something else-“

You cut him off immediately. “Definitely not! This looks and smells amazing. It would be a crime not to eat it.”

The corners of Reon’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did try not to burn it, so I hope it tastes nice.”

“If it tastes even half as good as it smells, you’ll have to fight me to stop eating.” You reply, accepting the plate he holds out and give thanks as he starts loading your plate.

“I’d never stop you from eating,” he clicks his tongue in false sternness, to which you grin at. “If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you until your happy.”

“I’m happy right now, but I definitely still want the food.” You cheekily fire back.

Reon shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well then, eat to your heart’s content.”

Taking a bite, you startle Reon with your enthusiastic reaction.

“This tastes better than I imagined.” You gush after swallowing, immediately scooping up another forkful and eating it.

Reon brushes off your compliment in favour for leaning forward and brushing some crumbs off your face. The proximity as your breath stalling in your throat as he lingers for a heartbeat longer, then withdraws.

“I hope we can do this more often. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” He quietly admits, the mood taking an intimate turn even with the shouts of kids playing in the distance.

“Me too. I don’t want this date to end.”

Shirabu:

This man prides himself on being observant and not oblivious like how his friends are

And yet, contrary to this, it takes him several trips to realise that he’s been on what would count as a date with you

You'll talk about needing a new jumper for winter and Shirabu will ask to tag along. You wanted to watch a movie? Shirabu is coming too. Like having someone besides you while studying? Shirabu was your go-to study buddy, whether in silence or as a conversation partner when your brain was overloaded

Out of the blue, he asks with no certain amount of panic, "Were those trips I went on with you dates?"

"I never really gave it much thought…” You match Shirabu’s expression as you consider his question. "I didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume that they were, and you never brought it up, so I left it be."

"Let me have a re-do." Determination flares in his usually guarded eyes and you couldn't refute.

“Gladly.”

Shirabu glances away from your face, unable to bear looking at the fond expression you wore for too long without his heart suffering. “I want to take you somewhere nice.”

“Everywhere I go with you is nice, Shirabu. It’s less about the place and more about the person.” You rebuke.

Shirabu looks away before you catch the full extent of his blush at your words. “No, I mean I want to take you somewhere that can become special for the both of us.”

You catch his hand in yours, tugging it for him to turn back towards you. Gone was the characteristic impassive façade, now replaced with a tenderness that makes you near melt.

Your first official date with him is a picnic in a park on top a hill to watch the sunset

Something he thinks is extremely cheesy and overdone but the look of excitement on your face immediately silenced his rebuttals

There was no way in hell that he was going to be the reason for your disappointment if he can help it

As such, he went all out

Hiring the gazebo and ordering food to be delivered from a restaurant he knows that you’ve wanted to try out for the longest time

Not that he actually tells you, but it wasn’t hard to deduce his excitement when he waits for you at the gazebo with a small smile, dressed nicely in pressed slacks and a dress shirt with a bundle of flowers

Upon the wide-eyed stare he receives from you, he spends the first minutes of the date describing what the florist thought best for him

A bunch of camellias ranging from a deep and vivid red to the first blush of love pink to the innocence of white gathered in a golden ribbon. He doesn’t exactly tell you their meanings other than a short, “Flowers are flowers, all I want them to show is that I love you.”

What he didn’t know was that the florist had the foresight to hide a card detailing the meaning of each flower amongst the paper holding them

White camellias meaning “You’re adorable” to red camellias meaning “You’re a flame in my heart” (something you blush at in the security of your own home) and the pink one representing longing

As the meal arrives and the two of you eat, the conversation drifts from current events to bits and pieces of everything and anything

The highlight of conversation was Kenjirou’s answer to the question “What do you think you’ll see first: a ghost or an alien?”

Apparently Kenjirou was secretly a space-lover

From the lecture he launched into about the statistics of it all and you come away from that conversation with more knowledge of possibility of E.T's versus spectres than you would’ve thought

The afternoon starts fading into dusk quicker than you realised, too wrapped up trading short anecdotes of your respective families

Shirabu only realises the fading light once the fairy lights decorating the space become brighter, and it is only then that Shirabu like a gentleman, brings out a blanket and escorts you to the grassy knoll besides the gazebo

Laying out the blanket, you notice it’s the perfect position to watch the sun set and you can’t help but give him a quick hug in gratitude before you sit down and make yourself comfortable

It floored you how much effort and consideration he put into this one afternoon amongst all his classes and assignments – it made you feel incredibly warm against the cool night air creeping in

As you shift to get comfortable, your hand lands on top of his. You’re just about to whisk it away, but he shoots you a soft smile and twists his hand in your grasp and gives it a squeeze

Your hands stayed intertwined as the blues faded into pinks and oranges, then into purples and the deep satiny blue of the night sky

The sunny photos with matching smiles from that afternoon soon decorate your wall

Kawanishi:

Unlike the others, Taichi really doesn’t care about being seen as “basic” for taking you out to watch a movie and grab dinner afterwards

He asked you out so casually, you agreed without it even hitting you that it was a date until he grinned at you and cheekily replied, “Great, it’s a date then.”

The movie in question was one you’ve been waiting forward for its release and Taichi was interested in it as well, so really it was an excuse for the both of you to watch the movie together instead of alone.

It went great, asides from the old couple staring the two of you in line, not so quietly reminiscing their first date

Embarrassment aside, Taichi was sweet throughout the entirety of it

Arguing to pay until reluctantly splitting the bill when you argued that it wasn’t fair

Waiting outside for it to start, Taichi and yourself bide the time by guessing what the other movies were about by their posters and making each other laugh

Once the movie starts, the chatter between you two dies down, yet the casual intimacy doesn’t fade in the slightest

Sharing an arm rest, the both of you exchange glances at one another throughout the movie, and bump elbows when something interesting or funny happens

It was a far-cry from the intimacy of the other’s dates, but it was perfect for the two of you

By now, the two of you have been friends much longer than you have been dating

Neither of you wanted to rush things, happy to take it as it comes and retain that familiarity from years of friendship stay untainted from the innate awkwardness of new love

Coming out of the theatre, Taichi is the most talkative you’ve seen him yet as he offers his opinion on the film

You avidly listen without a word of complaint

It was nice to hear what went through Taichi’s mind when he always kept his emotions close to his heart, you felt damn-near jubilant over him coming out of his shell – even after all the years of friendship

He offers to grab dinner and after a mild debate over which place is better, you end up flipping a coin and grabbing some fast food and eating it at a near-by park

Eating the meal in relative silence, it was only broken to point out the ducks and giving them names. It was laid-back and you were enjoying yourself, yet Taichi remained stiff by your side.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly the most romantic date.” Taichi rubs at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes.

You quirk a brow at him. “How isn’t this a romantic date?”

Taichi finally looks at you, although in confusion. “Because I should’ve taken you to a nice, fancy restaurant for our first date.”

“I work on the belief that anywhere is romantic if you make it so. It depends on the company.” You shrug.

Taichi’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Oh? So you wouldn’t mind having our next one at a cemetery?”

You dig an elbow into his side and roll your eyes at the performance he puts on.

“That’s not what I meant, smartass.”

Taichi stops the pouting and slumps into the seat. Hating the sombre mood he’s in, you curl your arm through his and tuck into his side.

“Besides, you can always make it up to me in the future. I want the place to be so expensive that the proportions are baby-sized.”

Taichi’s rich laugh rumbles through you. It was a losing battle against the rapid thrum of your heart and the thoughts of warmth that consume you with his proximity.

You also didn’t try to fight the urge to cuddle further into his side, something he gladly accepted as he wraps his arm even tighter around you.

“I promise.” He sighs, a happy noise as he rests his head against yours, two bodies becoming one whole on that one spring afternoon.

Goshiki:

Not everything in life is a competition, yet Goshiki couldn’t thrive without it

Besides, if he thought too long and hard about it (which he did) an arcade date was the best option

It presented the perfect chance to show off his skills and impress you

When he finally works up the courage to ask you, it had been a while since you’ve been, so you were more than happy to accept

Goshiki deflated with relief because a back-up option didn’t exist

Even after dating for over a month by this point, this would be the first official date he’s taken you out on

After worrying that it was too childish or not at all romantic for a first date, you spent the better half of the afternoon before it convincing him otherwise

At the arcade, Goshiki takes your hand and guides you around the place, pointing out games he bested as a teenager before finally settling on war-cross-zombie two player shooting game

With the growing win streak, the two of you continue playing the game until Goshiki accidentally gets his player killed

Pouting, he suggests a different game to soothe his bruised ego

The pout disappears as he finds a different game he’s decent at, tickets flying out as the points rack up

He glows as you praise his skill

It was too easy to bait him into playing hoop games, which he surprisingly sucked at

You discovered him to be especially gifted at reflex games, where the both of you won the most tickets

With each claw game he stubbornly refuses to “eat his hard-earned money”, he proudly passes off each plushie to you

Goshiki wins whatever prize your eyes linger over, no matter how frustrated it makes him

With each one, you promise to keep and inwardly muse that you’ll have to install a new shelf for them

A few hours deep, you had managed to win him an eagle. It’s the only prize you had won big enough to portray the amount of affection you held towards the bowl-cut male.

It was a bit mishappen and looked more fit to be the mascot for a horror game than a children’s show, however you still offered it to him.

His eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“I mean, I can get you something better if you give me a few minutes…” You frown at the plushie as Goshiki holds it up. It’s even uglier in the light. Why the hell would they have this as a prize?

You reach out to grab it from him and Goshiki snatches it away from your grasp, pressing it into his chest and curling around it protectively. “No!”

You stand there, stunned, as Goshiki flushes at the looks he got from the shout and starts stumbling over his words.

“I mean, it’s fine and not creepy at all – No, I mean it’s cute,” he unconvincingly amends at your wince. “It’s something that you worked hard to get. I’ll treasure it forever, I swear.”

The conviction in his voice was enough to ease your concern.

“I could get you a better one, though. One that’s less creepy.” You offer, gesturing towards the wide array of claw machines boasting figurines and cuter plushies.

“No thank you. I like this one.” Goshiki is stubborn and you should’ve expected that.

You sigh, lips unsurely pulling upwards. “If you’re sure?”

Goshiki gives a sharp nod, and you know that that’s the end of that. He would not budge.

Yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to be exasperated at the awe-filled look he gives the plushie as you two leave the arcade, holding it like it was made of expensive finery instead of cheap thread and fabric.

Months later you got to see the monstrosity again, tucked up on the shelf above his bed, proudly sitting between medals he’s won through the years.

207 notes · View notes

redwinterroses · 3 years

Text

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it��s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

#The only reason I'm even posting this is for my own remembering later #and i guess if fluffy or solar want to see my mindless ramblings -- go nuts #long post #redwinterreacts #redwintertalks #dog at the door

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obeiii-mee · 3 years

Note

Heyo, this is my first time asking (im kinda new to tumblr, so please dont judge) if you would'nt mind, could you do some headcannons (or oneshots, it dosen't matter) with all the demon bros and a MC who is crippled/paralized in their legs, and has to use a wheelchair to get around? Thank you!!

——————————-

This is the first time I’ve written about a crippled MC, so I hope I didn’t fuck this up or anything. I found out that being paralysed in both legs is a disability called Paraplegia so that’s how I titled this post. And y’all are too sweet, you are more than welcome anon! I hope I can portray this properly because I am not crippled myself so I’ve opted to do some research before writing this! I hope you like it! Also, I feel inclined to add that none of the brothers would treat you too differently if you happen to have a disability because you’re their human nonetheless :)

——————————-

The Brothers with an MC that has Paraplegia and needs a wheelchair to get around:

Lucifer:

-Lucifer was in charge of choosing the final human, exchange student for the program so it’s guaranteed he already knew about your predicament before you even arrived

-Him and Diavolo probably had many meetings concerning your disability before the program could commence, considering that being unable to walk would double the chances of you getting killed since you are obviously more vulnerable

-Not to mention all the treatment you would require

-Lucifer is not well versed in human illnesses and disorders, but he makes sure that he is educated enough on the matter before you get brought down there

-It would not be easy, but he is determined to help you survive your year in DevilDom for the prince’s sake

-First problem of the day was, of course, your wheelchair

-Due to lack of time, Lucifer was unable to instal ramps around the House of Lamentation which meant that for the first couple of weeks, someone would’ve had to help you move around certain parts of the house

-He gave that highly prestigious job to himself because he didn’t trust his brothers and thought they would accidentally drop you and your wheelchair down the stairs

-He talks a lot to you, even at the beginning, because he needs to establish your needs and what he should do to make sure you don’t die for the following year

-You would have to tell him about physical therapy and how most commonly it uses heat, massage and exercise to stimulate your nerves and muscles, making it a great treatment for people with leg paralysis

-Once you two enter a more intimate and personal relationship, it’s more than likely he’ll help you perform those things himself (instead of kidnapping a human doctor from somewhere)

-Lucifer knows you have no problem getting around with your wheelchair by yourself but there are times where he’ll insist to push you along in order to give you a quick break

-I can totally imagine you two strolling around DevilDom and having cosy chats about RAD and your adjustments to DevilDom

-He has a softer side to him that he’s afraid to show most of the time, but he feels so at ease when you’re around, it’s hard for him to hold that part of him hidden from you

-Of course, your safety still remains his primary concern and he acts more like your guardian than Mammon does, even if he was originally supposed to look out for you

-He will accompany you almost anywhere. And if he can’t, he’ll have one or more of his brothers do it. And even then he’s probably lurking nearby, just in case

-He would always be willing to listen about your condition, if you wished to tell him whether you were born with the defect or why you ended up crippled later in life. Either way, he’s all ears

-If you would rather not speak about it, he wouldn’t pry and respect your decision because he knows it’s not his place to pressure you

-Because of your paralysis, it’s quite obvious to demons that you are even weaker (physically speaking) than most humans and that usually puts a target on your back

-Howver, never fear, because Lucifer is pretty quick to put lower rank demons in their place with just a mere stare

-Oop one of them passed out from the fear, haha

-In conclusion, he’s the most responsible when it comes your comfort and safety during your stay

-He makes sure you are always left in good hands and and provides most of the requirements you need

-Y’all should see how his wings puff up when he senses a threat approaching you, he looks like a peacock ready to go on attack lol

Mammon:

-The second born is unsurprisingly a bit of a jerk at first

-He stays really grumpy the whole day of your arrival because he’s stuck babysitting you stupid human

-“Lucifer c’mon, what’s all this workload for? The human can’t even walk by themselves, why do I have to help them out?”

-Wtf Mammon you can’t say shit like that

-Anyways, the following very few days, the only thing he’s thinking about is how much money he could sell your wheelchair for

-He’s the literal incarnation of greed, what else did you expect from him?

-After a while, he starts feeling a bit guilty every time he thinks about it though

-Mammon is gonna take this secret to the grave (laughs in immortal) but he actually really likes pushing you around

-Maybe it’s because it’s a clear indication to everyone around him that you are HIS human, under HIS protection and therefore you trust HIM the most since he was your FIRST MAN

-He will insist on helping you get out of that thing when you need to go to bed and stuff every night and he will get pouty real fast if you let any of his other brothers do it

-You wake up to him trying to roll around in your wheelchair one night at like 3am

-At some point, he stole a wheelchair from the human realm to match with his human. You can guess the consequences of his actions

-I can imagine you having to face a staircase or something at school and Mammon being like:

-“Fuck it, imma carry this fragile human instead; wheelchair and all!”

-Like you were a sack of potatoes or something smh

-Cue his brothers watching him from a distance as he heaves you and basically weight-lifts you up the stairs

-Ok but every now and again, he gets so sad thinking about you not being able to walk, like he starts crying kinda sad

-While you stand there like 😐 “Why are you crying?”

-He’s so quick to help if he senses you’re in danger too

-It’s canon that Mammon is crazy fast if he wants to be so if he has even the slightest impression that your life is threatened, his feet are already moving

-He will charge at your immediate threat at around 120 miles per hour-do not try him when he’s mad

-“The Great Mammon saved the day! C’mon MC, let’s go buy some ice cream. My treat! Ya better be grateful!”

-He says while the demon that tried to eat you lies on the floor with about a dozen broken bones

-Mammon is the second most powerful demon out of all of his brothers, even if he doesn’t resort to violence often

Levi:

-He didn’t really know how to react when you first teleported to DevilDom

-I mean, from the very beginning he considered you to be a human normie but at the same time, he felt bad you were stuck with his brothers for the rest of the year

-I think he would understand you would have an even harder time integrating yourself in their house because of your disability and he knows his siblings are really fucking annoying, always pushing you around and whatnot

-So, he kinda lets you hide in his room quite often

-You guys chill out in there all the time, much to the dismay of the other brothers who also want to spend time with you

-At some point, Levi definitely begged asked Lucifer to let you start online classes with him

-“But wouldn’t it be easier for MC to do online school from home rather than go to R.A.D since there aren’t any ramps or anything around there???”

-“The answer is no Leviathan.”

-“Ugh fine! What a fucking boomer-“

-For some reason, he gets so flustered whenever you ask him to push you around

-He blushes right to the tips of his ears and then he starts sputtering some nonsense that you can’t make out at all

-But he’s more than happy to do it, especially if you guys are going to a convention or if he’s dragging you out to buy new merch

-You two would get along in the sense that Levi realises the struggles you faced all your life were tough to overcome and he believes you are just like him

-Usually left out by other people, ignored even

-He knows you always listen to him ramble on about whatever he is currently obsessed with and how much you check up on him to make sure he never isolated himself

-He wants to do that for you too! Talk to him about your hobbies, please I’m begging you-he feels so bad whenever he’s doing all the talking

-If you ask him to help you with anything (getting something, helping you into bed—that sort of thing), he legally and physically can’t say ‘no’

-And he would get envious enough to stop talking to you for a day or two if you let his brothers do it instead (the second and third born are indeed similar lmao)

-S T A Y I N H I S R O O M, W H E R E Y O U C A N B E P R O T E C T E D !

-He will feel so much more at ease if you’re in his room because to him, that’s his haven

-If you’re in there with him, that means you’re not getting involved in his siblings’ endless and dangerous shenanigans

-Whenever you’re at school, he can’t help but worry about your well-being

-Because you’re human! You’re gonna get killed!! Do you know how much your organs sell on the black market in DevilDom??? 100x more than in the human realm, that’s for sure

-Would they have a black market or would it be a regular market lol

-For some reason, he also likes staying in your wheelchair when you’re not using it

-I think he just takes comfort in knowing it’s something that belongs to you and smells like you and-

-OK Levi, sit back down

-He wouldn’t treat you any differently if you had a disability tbh, but he’d be more concerned because you can’t even run away or anything

-So he’s so fuckin’ relieved when you guys are just vibing in his room

-He could die happy knowing he kept his best friend/ partner safe

Satan:

-Satan would be even more prepared for your arrival than Lucifer would, in a sense

-Out of all of his brothers, he’s most likely to understand and recognise paraplegia (either from studying human illnesses/birth defects/disabilities or from encountering humans with said disability)

-He’s a smart boy, alright?

-Always seems to be the first to notice if you need help or if someone’s bothering you

-Though in the very beginning, he was pretty tempted to just let you get killed to see how angry Lucifer could get

-Seeing dear Luci’s misery brings him great joy 🥰🥰🥰

-Once you two manage to build a very honest and strong relationship, he feels more and more inclined to keep you out of harm’s way

-Pls, he would feel so honoured if you let him push you around (it’s like you asked him to h*ld h*nds or something)

-If you require treatment of any kind, he would be so happy to help

-But in a subtle way...?

-Satan makes it seem so smooth too like he doesn’t mind lending a helping hand when in reality he’s all giddy inside

-*Kinda wants to rub it in his brothers’ faces but at the same no, because he’s definitely the bigger person here

-He wants to know how your wheelchair works

-It’s got all of these neat mechanisms and he wants to learn how they’re constructed because he never had the chance to inspect one before

-He’s such a sweetheart about asking you as well and never pries about your disability unless you start elaborating yourself

-Most of the time, he acts all charming and very gentleman-like

-So people have a hard time spotting and acknowledging the building rage inside of him every time he sees you are threatened by some moronic low rank demon

-Satan’s usually chill when it comes to injuries, unless he can see you’re in horrible pain

-There’s nothing a few spells can’t accomplish

-But when others purposefully try harming you?

-It’s like he loses all the self control he’s been trying to perfect over the centuries and he can’t help himself from at least breaking someone’s rib cage

-Satan’s a weird one because he’s protective of you even though he’s more on the relaxed side when compared to his siblings

-He very much acknowledges that you made it this far in life with your predicament so he doesn’t feel the need to baby you or anything

-You’re strong and he knows this

-It’s one of the many things he clearly loves about you

-That one time you rolled over Mammon’s foot with your wheelchair on purpose, he was wheezing

Asmo:

-Even now, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be stuck inside a wheelchair for the rest of his eternal life

-I mean, he’d obviously still be absolutely fabulous, have you seen him? He’s gonna be gorgeous either way

-But after the two of you meet, he definitely starts thinking about how he takes his feet for granted all the time

-It would be so difficult to complete his daily tasks without the ability to walk or run around

-That’s why he gets sad every time he remembers that’s your reality and on days like that, you’ve noticed he gives you a helluva lot more attention than usual

-He knows you don’t need pity or anything so he’s just making sure his human has all the support they can get

-Paraplegia or not, shopping trips are still a go-go

-He loves buying you clothes! And he loves helping you try them on! Asmo takes it very seriously

-Might have a go at the employees if they’re being rude to you

-You don’t even ask him to, but he subconsciously starts pushing you around himself whenever the two of you are out together

-“MC! Look at that new shop that’s just opened! Isn’t it adorable? We have to check it out!”

-He can’t help it! There’s so many places he wants to visit, he sort of just drags you with him wherever he goes

-Even at home, he always pops out of nowhere to coax you into coming to his room

-Y’all have so many skin routines to do each day

-Like he’s in your room most nights to greet you goodnight and tuck you in, with the rest of his brothers it gets so awkward at times

-Asmo just wants to see you smile, ok? He thinks you have a beautiful smile and laugh and he wants to remind you that you’re marvellous, disability or not

-And if anyone does anything to put an end to your self confidence, he will swiftly put an end to their life

-Please, he’s a pro at ruining lives, he’s been doing it for centuries

-Asmo has such a huge influence over the people in DevilDom, he just needs to make this one post on Devilgram to end said demon’s whole career

-I mean, who is he compared to him, Hmm? So don’t worry MC, scum like that don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you :)

-That one time Mammon tried lifting you up the stairs and Asmo started shrieking, like put them down! Don’t manhandle them like that, poor human :(

Beel:

-I know I sound repetitive, but he would be an overall sweetheart to you no matter the circumstances

-If Mammon is not by your side, then Beel definitely is

-His big, scary aura and figure usually scares off any threat in a 10 mile radius

-Most demons don’t fancy being eaten by the Avatar of Gluttony, ya know?

-Idk why but I feel like he’d be the type to ask for oral consent every time he wanted to push you around

-He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable :(

-Surprisingly also the type to lift you and your wheelchair whenever an obstacle gets in your way

-You basically weigh the same amount as a paper plate compared to him, so he has no problem doing so

-He doesn’t really understand your condition as well as Satan may do, but he’s trying his best

-You mean so much to him and he feels it’s only fair he learns more about your disability as a thank you for what you’ve done for him

-He has a rough time keeping up with you when it comes to stuff like physical therapy because he’s very unfamiliar with it but that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna help

-Of course, Beel believes that this is the second best way to show you how much he cares for you besides the obvious ‘I love you’

-Giving you a hand whenever you need his support the most

-That’s his way of saying “I’m not going to let you down. I want you to trust me, the same way I trust you.”

-And knowing him, he will try to do everything in his power to keep you safe and sound

-After a while, you’re bound to notice he’s the first one to pull you out of his brothers’ pranks before you have a chance to get hurt

-Beel is always the one handing you stuff from high places you can’t reach, without teasing you for it like Mammon might do

-Always the first one to remind you to get plenty of rest and to eat enough

-He wants to protect you and his brothers because he knows he failed to do so with Lilith so yeah, he’s a bit overprotective at times

-He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he gets so anxious knowing you’re by yourself

-After a few months of getting accommodated with him, your disability is no longer brought up in the conversation

-Because he doesn’t care that you are crippled and forced to use a wheelchair

-You are part of his family and he loves you no matter what

Belphie:

-He didn’t really care, even when you first met and his hatred for humans was at its very peak

-It didn’t matter that you had a disability

-All that mattered to him at the time was killing you to satisfy that deeply rooted need of vengeance inside of him

-Though he was sort of surprised his brothers didn’t get to you first

-In general, he’s pretty chill about you being crippled in both legs

-It takes too much effort to worry about your well-being 24/7 after all

-Surprisingly, he does keep an eye out for you if his siblings aren’t nearby

-It’s his redemption arc people, he’s trying to be nicer

-But he has such an irritating way of showing his affection for you

-Do not let him push you around

-He’s either going to a) fall asleep after 30 seconds and slump over you in the middle of RAD’s halls

-Or b) be annoying and fling your wheelchair in every direction possible just to piss you off

-He likes messing with you because you give him the best reactions and he thrives on that

-You’ve almost fallen off your wheelchair multiple times because of this asshole

-Not that he’d actually let you fall, he just wants to see how easily he can get you to yell at him

-Speaking of said wheelchair, like Mammon and Levi, he also loves using it when you’re not

-You’ve woken up to him curled up and asleep in that thing quiet often and he’s gotten in trouble over it every time with Lucifer

-But he doesn’t care

-And at this point, I don’t think even he knows whether he’s doing it to get a reaction out of you or because he somehow found a way to make himself comfortable there

-He would low key use you as a mode of transportation every time you go to RAD

-Just clings the damn wheelchair and almost topples both of you over

-“Belphie, there’s nothing stopping you from walking 😐”

-“Shh, just bring me to class and let me nap until then.”

-He doesn’t mention your legs but he still lays his head on your lap often

-Might make you hold him like a bride every time you stroll around the house

-It’s done out of love, I promise 😌😌

———————————

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #om #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #paraplegia #⭐️ requests #🕯 general #☂️ demon brothers

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babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Babysitting Bucky - Part 5

Pairing: FATWS!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,368

Summary: You’ve been assigned by the government to keep an eye on the Winter Soldier to ensure that he was no longer a threat to the world.

A/N: It has begun lmfao, check out the link at the end of this post if you’d like to be tagged in the next updates! Would love to receive feedbacks!

MASTERLIST

You found yourself in the conference room of the Avengers compound, together with Sam, Bucky, Sharon and Fury discussing about an upcoming mission.

Sharon went over the brief of the mission with everyone. There was an intel about a certain drug cartel that decided to expand their business and venture into the trade of biological weapons as well. Grabbing the folder on the desk, you skimmed through the information and frowned when your eyes landed on a familiar name.

“Black Sparrow? I thought the entire organization was taken down during the raid years ago?” You asked.

Bucky turned to you, “You know these guys?”

“One of my first missions, I was the assigned liaison officer to check up on the whistleblower who was placed under the witness protection program.” You explained.

Sharon sighed, “Apparently, not everyone was imprisoned. Whoever decided to keep the organization going, we have no idea.”

The mission required all of you to find out about the illegal trades. There wasn’t much information provided, except for the tip that an important trade might be taking place soon.

“Black Sparrow’s nest is said to be hidden within a fruit shop downtown.” Sharon added.

Fury let Sam takeover the strategizing, with him deciding to do a stakeout to see how the organization operates. Once the trade takes place, raid the nest, find out the other groups involved and most importantly the source of biological weapons.

“You up for a stakeout, Buck?” Sam asked.

Bucky shrugged and glanced at you, “Only if the babysitter agrees to do so.”

You let out an exasperated breath, “Mister Barnes, I would appreciate it if you’d address me properly.” You scolded.

Sam cleared his throat, “Alright. Sharon and I will try to research on the potential groups involved in the trades. Stakeout starts tonight so pack your things.”

All your things have been packed and you were about to leave your room when you received a call from none other than Secretary Ross.

“Ugh, what does he want now?” You complained to yourself before accepting the call.

“I heard about the stakeout, Agent. Isn’t it convenient?”

You rolled your eyes; the secretary’s voice was too chirpy, as if he was excited. He was definitely up to something, what it was, you still didn’t know. Something about the mission you were tasked to do was off. They didn’t even tell you for how long you needed to tag along the Winter Soldier.

“Yes, sir. I will make sure to keep an eye on the subject and report whatever it is that I find out of place.” You reassured, hoping that the secretary would simply hum in agreement and end the call.

“Good. But wouldn’t it be better if you stir things up a bit?” He asked.

You frowned, “I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

Secretary Ross chuckled, “Push his buttons, Agent. See how he reacts to certain triggers.”

God, he really wants you to dig some dirt on Bucky. You were supposed to tell him that you already tried doing so and that nothing bad happened, but the Secretary reminded you that he wanted to see a detailed report about it and ended the call.

You didn’t want to push Bucky’s buttons anymore. Bringing up the Soldat seemed too much already and he had already proven how much in control he was of himself. However, you felt conflicted as well since you needed to file a report. You could easily fake it though, but you were afraid that the secretary might have eyes and ears lurking around.

You were too deep into your thoughts, almost losing track of the time. Thankfully, FRIDAY interrupted and informed you that Bucky and Sam were already outside the compound, waiting for you.

“You’re eight minutes late, Agent.” Sam reprimanded as you approached them.

“Did you have a hard time packing Bucky’s diapers and feeding bottles?” He teased.

Bucky grunted in dismay, “Jesus, Sam.”

“Sorry, had to take a phone call from the secretary.” You responded and began placing your things inside the trunk of the car.

Bucky stiffened at the mention of Secretary Ross, his hands tightened into fists at his side. You eyed his stance and noticed that he seemed uncomfortable. Who wouldn’t be if the government had their eyes on you?

“Nothing to worry about, Mister Barnes. You’re all good. I made sure of that.” You told him reassuringly before sliding into the passenger’s seat.

Bucky drove to the stakeout location with an uncomfortable silence in the air with the occassional directions coming from the GPS. You were slightly nervous about being on a week-long stakeout. It wasn’t because you were afraid of Bucky, but being with him by yourself was intimidating.

Seven days with the Winter Soldier. With no one else around.

You and the Winter Soldier. On a stakeout. For an entire week.

The more you thought about it, the more it was beginning to sink in. You’ve had your fair share of stakeouts in the past, but you were either by yourself or paired someone you closely worked with. But a stakeout with Bucky Barnes? How the fuck were you going to keep calm the entire week and maintain your calm persona?

“So...” Bucky trailed, tone unsure as if he too was uncomfortable with the silence and decided to break it but not knowing how to proceed.

“Do you want to turn on the radio?” He asked and cleared his throat, keeping his gaze on the road.

You looked out the window, “Yeah, why not.” You said with faux nonchalance.

Bucky quickly turned it on and adjusted the volume. He skimmed through various radio stations before settling on one.

Despite having the radio playing in the background, the atmosphere between you and Bucky remained awkward and uncomfortable. You could tell that Bucky could feel it too, so you decided to start a conversation.

“How has it been being an Avenger?”

You didn’t know why you chose that question, but it was the first thing that popped into your mind.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, “Is that part of your research on me or are you actually trying to start a conversation?” He asked, glancing at you with amusement.

“You know what, forget about it, Mister Barnes.” You waved off.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was genuinely curious.” He sheepishly responded, “But to answer your question, it’s been...weird so to speak. Especially having someone watch my every move.”

You shrugged, “Well, I apologize but I don’t have a choice. This is my job and I have to—“

“I know, Agent. You don’t need to explain, I completely understand. I’m really trying not to make it hard for you to do your job.” He explained.

You were actually surprised at how easy it was to talk to Bucky. You were expecting him to be completely broody and tight-lipped, considering all the things he went through. There were times when he’d be moody of course, but for the most part, he was friendly. And very kind.

“Well then I appreciate it, Mister Barnes.” You stated.

Bucky let out a breathy laugh, “I’m still looking forward to the day when you’d call me, Bucky.” He said and gave you a smile.

You felt your face heat up from the way he smiled at you and how his eyes crinkled at the sides. He almost looked the same as he did in his photos dated back to the 40’s, when he was oozing with that boyish charm and innocence before he was drafted for the war.

You immediately looked away and bit your lip.

The two of you arrived at the cheap motel that was situated a few blocks away from the fruit shop. The building was old and almost looked dilapidated. It was known to be the number one spot for illegal transactions. It was the perfect place for a stakeout.

“The old lady at the reception seemed suspicious of us, I saw how she eyed the both of us when we checked in.” You said upon entering the motel room, groaning at the stench that welcomed your nostrils.

Obviously, the room was far from decent given the quality of the motel itself. There were two beds separated by a night desk and a small coffee table; the cream curtains were splotchy and dusty, some parts of the wallpaper were torn apart and the flooring creaked with every single step.

“I think she was merely judging us, thinking we’re one of those couples.” Bucky said as he placed his bags on the bed.

“Those couples?” You asked, walking over to the other bed and inspecting the bedding.

“Well, I heard this motel is a popular location for shooting x-rated videos.” Bucky explained casually as he walked towards the window, pushing the curtains aside, revealing the perfect view of Black Sparrow’s nest.

You almost choke on your own spit, “You mean to say...that old lady thought we were going to shoot porn?!”

Bucky hummed, “Maybe. It’s probably for the best, that way we’ll remain unsuspicious. Less chances of being interrupted as well.” he replied casually, as if it was no big deal but you also noticed that the corner of his lips curved into a slight smirk.

Clearing your throat, you regained your composure and went to unpack your things instead, starting with some of the weapons you brought. A stakeout often resulted to a raid so you had to make sure that you were prepared in case of an attack. Bucky moved away from the window and closed the curtains again before sitting on his bed.

“Those all yours?” he asked with interest as he watched you arrange your knives and guns on top of your bed.

You glanced at him for a quick second and saw the glint in his eyes as he observed your arsenal, you just hummed in response and started cleaning your guns while Bucky watched in silence.

“When we sparred...” he trailed and you froze, expecting him to confront you when you brought up the Soldat to trigger him.

“You used Romanoff’s technique. Where did you learn that?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Mister Barnes, it’s not that hard to learn that move. I’m just as trained as you and Mister Wilson, I know a lot of moves.” you explained but Bucky didn’t seem to buy it.

“It’s actually kinda hard to execute that move. Not a lot of trained agents can do that easily.” he pressed.

You pursed your lips before looking up at him, “Sounds to me like you’re trying to compliment my skills, Mister Barnes.”

Bucky ended up letting go of the topic.

The first few hours of the stakeout was uneventful; you and Bucky simply kept watch to see whether there were suspicious movements in the fruit shop. It seemed to be a regular fruit shop but there were certain people walking in and out of it that looked pretty shady.

This was going to be a difficult task.

There were small conversations between you and Bucky, mostly formal and about the mission. Everything seemed to be going well but you knew that the longer the both of you would stakeout together, the more it was going to be uncomfortable. You figured that you’d cross that bridge when you get there.

It was past six when you felt a pang of hunger; the last time you had a meal was during lunch. You needed to get food before your stomach could even embarrass you in front of Bucky who remained staring out of the window, keeping watch.

“I’m getting us food for dinner, would you like anything?” you asked.

Bucky shook his head, “Anything is fine.” he offered a small smile.

You left the motel and thankfully, there was a nearby Mcdonald’s a couple blocks away. On your way back, you decided to casually pass by the fruit shop to get a closer look. You didn’t want to linger around but you did notice that there were certain people who kept on going in and out of the store throughout the day. You rushed back to your room to inform Bucky about it and upon stepping inside, you were welcomed by the sight of the Winter Soldier fresh out of the shower wearing only a towel that was wrapped around his waist while he was drying his hair with another towel.

Your eyes immediately zoomed in on the droplets of water that was running from Bucky’s neck down to his pecs, sliding lower to his chiseled abs. Your eyes remained on his abdomen, even when the water had disappeared into the towel around his waist. By the time you snapped out of your trance, you shifted your gaze back to Bucky’s face hoping that he didn’t catch you staring at his body.

Oh, but it was too late because your eyes were immediately met by a pair of baby blues.

“I...b-bought...” you stammered and wanted to slap yourself for sounding like an idiot. “...dinner from uh...Burger King.” you continued, unable to look away from Bucky’s piercing gaze.

“Mcdonald’s.” he said.

“What?”

“You bought from Mcdonald’s...not Burger King.” Bucky corrected you, pointing towards the brown paper bag in your hands.

You coughed and finally managed to look away from Bucky’s half-naked figure, “Yes, I meant Mcdonald’s. Sorry.” you softly said and pre-occupied yourself by taking out the food from the paper bag and placing them on the small table.

As you focused your attention on arranging the food on the desk, you felt Bucky hover behind you. His bare chest slightly pressing against your back as he reached for the french fries that was still inside the paper bag. You stood still and tried to keep your cool despite the closeness between you and Bucky. He pulled away just as quickly and grinned when you looked back at him with a frown.

“You smell good, Agent.” he said before grabbing his clothes from his bed and walking back into the bathroom to get dressed.

You blinked a couple of times before you realized what had just happened.

“Fuck!” you whispered under your breath.

This was going to be one hell of a stakeout.

Babysitting Bucky Tag List:

@chipilerendi @procrastinationinawriter @supraveng @sammypotato67 @grace-writes-shit @tanyaherondale @dev-loves-siri @ahahafudge @nerdgirl0824 @thomasthetankson @its-yasbxtch

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14

#bbbwrites #babysitting bucky #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

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catxsnow · 4 years

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LIFE SAVER B.A.

Request: Could I request Bart Allen x reader where she is the blood daughter of Bruce Wayne- maybe make her superhero alias phoenix or something and she falls hard for him. Bruce is a protective father and wants Bart to prove himself of being worthy for her hand. Fluff.

Warning: mentions of blood, violence, Bruce being a bad dad, fluff, angst, swearing

A/N: Y’all had me so distracted playing Among Us I nearly forgot to post

Anyways, first Bart fic, hope you guys enjoy!!

Word Count: 3.3k

"Bruce you're being fucking ridiculous."

Joining the Young Justice Team was your father's idea. Tim was there, Dick was still the leader, and you deserved your spot there as well. You despised the idea at first - it was easier working with Batman than it was a bunch of kids, even if two of your brothers were on the team. It didn't seem fair that he was making you go as well.

You never talked to very many people there - Tim, Dick, sometimes Conner. It was easier just to stick by yourself until the mission came. Maybe that was the Bruce in you - wanting to be alone and independent - maybe that was just you not wanting to make friends. Tim fit in well, Dick founded the team. They were meant for this, you weren't.

Maybe that was the reason you were excited to see a new face when Bart arrived. He was just as annoying and over energetic as everyone else you knew, but there was still something different about him. He wasn't like Wally or Conner or even your brothers. He carried a weight on his shoulders that he desperately tried to hide.

Not to mention that he seemed to know all the right things to make you smile. Bart became close to you, closer than you had been than anyone else. Dick was the first to notice. He watched you sneak into Bart's room at night to hang out and play video games or that the two of you would always make sure you were together on missions.

It was subtle at first, until Beast Boy noticed and started spreading around that you were dating - totally not true. However, in Bart's eyes it seemed to be enough to grow a pair and kiss you. His time was less than fortunate - maybe customs were different in the future but in that day and age you generally wouldn't have asked for your first kiss with him to be in front of your entire team.

Things with him were going great, at least until Tim snitched on the both of you to your father. Bruce was pissed that you were dating Bart. Not only did he not trust the speedster, he didn't want you dating anyone. You last boyfriend hadn't ended well and Bruce still had to be held back from breaking his bones.

"I've made my decision. That's final." Bruce was sitting in front of his computer. His cowl was down, but he refused to meet eyes with you. He could hear you pacing back and forth behind him. Anger rolled off you like waves - there was no way that he could do this to you. Not when he let you have so much responsibility as Batgirl.

"I'm sixteen! You can't just let me fight assholes every night but not let me have a boyfriend!" You yelled at him. It was beyond frustrating that he refused to look at you. It had only been a couple months that you were dating Bart but losing him hurt more than anything else. Bruce couldn't do this to you.

"I told you already. You're not dating that boy. He hasn't proved himself yet."

"Bart has proved himself over and over again! You just couldn't give him the time of day to notice!" You exclaimed. Bruce couldn't even bother to turn back and look at you as you defended your boyfriend. He didn't care for Bart from the start, and now more than ever he wasn't willing to give him a chance.

"I said no."

"Fuck you, Bruce," You finally snapped. As much as he hated when you swore and yelled at him like this, it happened more often than either of you were willing to admit. It was rare for you to ever see eye to eye with your farther. Dick was the same, Tim was learning. Jason was the only person that you seemed to constantly get along with and now he's gone.

Bruce still didn't turn to you. Without another word, you left the cave and headed straight to the nearest Zeta Tube. He couldn't stop you. Unless he wanted to pull you from that team - which he didn't - you would still see Bart every day. There was no way that he could keep you from seeing him.

It broke you knowing that your father wanted to take away the one thing that made you happy on that team. Did Dick know? Tim? Unlikely. Your chest ached at the betrayal. Fists clenched at your sides as you entered the cave and tears threatening to burn your eyes. Why did he have to be so damn persistent?

Instead of heading to your room like you wanted to, you went directly to the training room. There was no point in sulking over your hurt feelings when you could direct them to training. Bruce instilled that into you too. It seemed that all of your bad traits stemmed from him.

A sword twirled in your hand as the simulation started up. Fake assassins came at you from every angle but none of them stood a chance against your anger. You moved effortlessly around the room, taking down every faux enemy in your way.

Sweat dripped down your body and you had lost track of how long you had been going at it. The sword began to feel heavy in your hands from swinging it around. Your muscles started to scream at you to stop but every time you tried, you got filled with another wave of rage. Fuck Bruce.

You had been so caught up that you hadn't noticed someone walk into the room. If you hadn't noticed the bright red hair, you would have assumed it to be another simulation. The tip of your sword stopped centimeters away from his eye. You had stopped yourself just in time.

Bart pushed your sword down and watched your chest heave up and down from the exertion that you had put yourself through. He raised his eyebrows as you said nothing to him, just turned away and put your weapon back in it's place. Sweat soaked your shirt and you realized how lightheaded you were.

Your hands gripped onto the table in front of you. Bart sped over and sat right by your hands. He watched your eyes squeeze shut before popping open at his appearance. Dating the kid of Batman meant he had to get used to the brooding - tonight it seemed different. He was worried.

"What's wrong?" Bart asked. For the first time, he sounded timid around you. He could see the look in your eyes, the way you pushed yourself that night, even how your muscles tense with frustration. Something had gone haywire when you were home in Gotham. "Hey," he placed his hand over yours to get your attention.

"Bruce," you scoffed. Bart knew you didn't always get along with your father. You'd come to him ranting and screaming about how neglected you felt you whole life. Whatever it was this time, it really must have gotten you riled. "Tim told him we're dating and now he's riding my ass about it. He doesn't want us together."

Confusion struck his face. He had never given Bruce, or your brothers, a reason to dislike him when it came to dating you. He was always kind and loving, never willing to let anyone hurt you. Sure, he might have been a bit odd compared to the others, but he was the only one to get you to truly open up on that team.

Bart clenched his jaw. What was he supposed to say? Batman scared him, a lot. He saw the tremble in your china and the way that you squeezed your eyes shut. Bart placed his palm on your cheek and kissed the corner of your lips. He didn't want to lose you.

He couldn't.

It seemed to be incredibly tense whenever you were around your family. You refused to talk to Bruce again and each time you were in the room with Tim everyone could feel how angry you were. He didn't mean to stir trouble when he told Bruce about your life with Bart, he didn't think he would react that badly.

Dick was trying his best to play mediator. He split you and Tim up whenever he got the chance and made sure to keep you and Bart together so he wouldn't get on your bad side as well. At the same time, Bruce continuously stopped in or asked Dick what was going on. Someone was always lurking over you when you were with Bart.

Whenever Batman was around, Bart became nervous - and distant. He didn't stand by you, sometimes he didn't even look at you. Though you knew that you couldn't blame him for being nervous around your father, it still made you angry. Not at him, never at him, but Bruce. He continuously fucked up your life.

The only way that Bart would ever get his approval was to defy death itself to be a hero. If Bruce was human and would put his life on the line, then he expected Bart to do so as well considering he had powers. His expectation was ridiculous, Bart risked his life every day right along side you on that team. Why did that not seem to be enough?

Bruce had another chat with you that evening. He stopped to the cave before you mission that evening. Unfortunately for you, it had been a bad time for him to come barging in without knocking. You and Bart had been tangled in your bed with needy kisses being shared.

You could still hear the coldness in his voice as he ordered Bart to leave. The tone he used when he yelled at you for still seeing him. The embarrassment you had when you left your room to join your team who had all heard you screaming match with your father. Bruce said nothing to your brothers, he only glared.

Dick assigned the teams for that night. You, Bart, and Gar were team beta. Bart looked hesitant to be near you again. To be honest, you couldn't blame him. Gar looked hesitant to be with you both, his eyes darted between you as if you had just broken up. That was far from the case - you weren't letting your father dictate you life like this.

As much as Bart knew this, it still made him weary. If there was one person that he never wanted to defy, it was the Bat. He still didn't know how you stood up to him so easily - swearing, calling him by his first name - he was your father. Then again, your relationship with him was far from perfect.

The mission itself seemed easy. A simple recon for your team - but just like nearly every recon mission that this team had - something went wrong. Things were going smoothly at first, at then gunshots started within the building and innocent screams being heard. You couldn't sit around while people were getting hurt.

So, breaking what you had promised Dick, you swooped in to save the people. Unfortunately for you, there were far more people than expected. Gar and Bart were out of sight and you couldn't rely on them in that moment. Your staff twirled around, taking down man after man. Bullets narrowly missed you, but at least the attention was off the civilians.

Bart had finally gotten back to you, he had been busy with his own men before he could join. "Impulse! Get the people out!" You shouted at him. Bart did as he was told, taking two at a time far away from the building and to safety while you held your own. Gar had finally caught up with you, too.

The two of you took out nearly every man in that building. All of them were unconscious or had surrendered. All except one. Gar could see the man behind you raise his gun, he yelled out trying to get your attention but it was too late. The trigger had been pulled and a bullet flew right towards you.

Bart felt like everything was happening in slow motion. He had just finished getting the last civilian to safety. When he ran back in he saw the bullet speeding at your chest. He pushed his legs faster than he had ever gone before to try and get you to safety as well. His hands out stretched to try and catch the bullet before it made contact.

Unfortunately for him, he had miscalculated the trajectory. Rather than catching the bullet in his palm, he had dove right in front of it. Bart stood there in shock as blood seeped from his chest. He looked over to you, fear in his eyes at the found. Had it not been for Beast Boy taking the shooter down, you would have been shot as well.

"Bart! No, no no," You panicked. He fell into your arms before hitting the ground. His blood soaked your hands as you put pressure on the wound to stop him from bleeding. Tears slipped down your face at the state of him. His face was contorted in pain and he was trying his best to be strong for you.

Gar dropped down to your side beside the both of you, worried as well. Bart placed his hand over yours and tried his best to smile up at you. "Speed healing, babe. You wouldn't have been so lucky." It was true, a bullet for him was an inconvenience for an hour, for you, it could have been a lifetime.

"I don't give a shit about your speed healing, Bart. I don't like seeing you hurt."

"Would have done it without it anyways. Anything to save you."

When you showed back up to the cave with blood on your hands and all of your suit, Bruce immediately went into protective mode. He assumed it to be yours and was ready to bite the head off of anyone involved. As expected, his blame was ready to go directly to Bart.

It wasn't until he saw the redness in your eyes and the way Gar held onto Bart like his life depended on it did he realize that you weren't hurt. You were fine, pissed and worried, but you would live. Bruce didn't say anything as you brought your boyfriend to the med bay to get stitched up.

Bart was going to just fine. Like he said, he had speed healing - you didn't. Had that bullet pierced your skin instead, you wouldn't have held on long enough to make it back to the cave like he did. You were grateful for him, as much as you thought him an idiot to do so.

Dick had convinced you to go wash up while he was in the med bay. His wound was nearly healed and he was on his way to be back to new within the hour. His healing abilities still went forgotten by you and getting it through your head that he was going to be okay was hard to accept.

However, Dick was right. You needed to get cleaned up sooner or later and seeing the blood on your hands was only a harsh reminder of what had happened. The sound of the gunshot echoed through your head, the look on his face as he realized he didn't catch the bullet but got hit by it, they were etched into your brain.

No matter how hard you scrubbed, you still couldn't rid the images out of your brain. Rashly, you jumped out of the shower and through on the closet pair of sweats and hoodie - both of which belonged to Bart. He was okay, but you needed to see him to make sure that he really was.

Water still dripped down you, leaving a trail of foot prints from your room all the way to the med bay. However, as you reached the room, you stopped in your tracks. Through the glass you could see your father standing over Bart. Your boyfriend was nodding along to whatever he was saying - a hint of fear in his face.

What could Bruce possible have to say to Bart? After what he had done for you, there was no way that he could rip a new one into him. Bart had saved your life, and if Bruce still couldn't see how good of a person that he was, you weren't sure what would.

Without another thought, you swung the door open. Both the men turned towards you, both happy to see you there.

"What the hell are you doing?" You snapped to Bruce. The conversation that he had with you before the mission bounced around in you mind. In what world was it good timing to try and break you up once more right after your boyfriend was shot trying to save your life. "How dare you come to Bart after he's saved my life and try to -"

"(Y/N)," Bart cut you off. "It's okay." Your eyebrows furrowed at his words. Okay? How was it okay that Batman was trying to split you apart? How was it okay that your own father couldn't accept that you loved Bart? Nothing about this was okay.

Bruce said nothing. He moved to stand directly in front of you. His hand squeezed your shoulder for a brief moment before leaving the two of you alone. Still unsure of what that meant, you turned your attention back to Bart who was now fully healed and ready to go.

Slowly, he sat up in the bed until his feet dangled off the edge. To your surprise, he didn't look stressed or worried from his previous conversation. Instead, there was a small smile spreading on his lips. It grew as you ran into his arms. All the fear you had washed away being held by him.

"I was so scared," You whispered. Bart pulled away from you to kiss you. His lips molded perfectly against your. This was long awaited, far too long. You needed his kiss, his touch, you missed it in the short time that he had been injured. "What did he say to you?"

"Thank you," he answered. Your eyes widened in shock - Bruce never said thanks to anyone, especially to someone he hated as much as Bart. "For keeping you safe. And happy. For loving you when he can't."

"Bruce? My father? Batman?" You questioned. There was no way that he said anything like that. Not when he was so adamant on getting you broken up this whole time. Bart nodded. "So he doesn't want us broken up anymore?"

"Babe, if all it took was getting shot I would have done that a long time ago," Bart laughed. You smacked his shoulder, wishing that he wouldn't joke about that. It petrified you to have him shot right in front of you. The fear you had nearly wasn't worth your father's approval. "I'm kidding. Sort of. Not at all, actually. I'd do it again for you."

"No the hell you wouldn't," you scolded. "I swear Bart Allen for someone who thinks as quickly as you do, you make some dumb decisions."

"Part of my charm," Bart chuckled. He kissed your lips one more time before standing up. A coy look flashed in his eyes - that was never good from him. "There are some ways that you could make it up to me, ya know? I mean a man takes a bullet for you.. that sounds worthy of something special."

"Are you thinking kisses or a ridiculous amount of Big Belly Burger because I could go for either right now."

"Babe, it's like you read my mind."

#bart allen #bart allen imagine #bart allen x reader #batsis!reader #bruce wayne #Bart allen oneshot #impulse #impulse imagine #kid flash #kid flash imagine #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #young justice #young justice imagine #yj

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alvsstudies · 3 years

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WaniKani for Kanji Studies

WaniKani, for all your kanji learning needs~

WaniKani, the glorious, glorious site that’s been a permanent tab on my computer for years. Boy, where do I even begin to describe the wonder that is this kanji studying website and its community? Actually, other than the very basics I’ll probably stick to mentioning the things I personally love about it and let you explore the ins and outs of the page on your own, because the WK community site already has loads and loads of guides, support, and tips ‘n tricks for you if you want to give it a go and need someone to point you in the right direction. Oh, and then there’s also the official knowledge guide which includes FAQ, of course. Heaps of information on there. Totally recommend it. 🐊🦀✨

“Everything you need to know about waiting a really long time for your precious reviews”

“Okay, okay, we get it. But, what is WaniKani?” Ah. Right. Well, first things first, in Japanese ワニ (wani) means crocodile, or alligator, and カニ (kani) means crab. The mascot for the page is the almighty Crabigator that is more or less worshipped by the community. If you venture into the weird parts of it, that is. But if you’re not into that stuff you can just. Y’know. Forget everything I just wrote and pretend it doesn’t exist.

Through WK you get to memorise both kanji and vocabulary containing the kanji you learn. 2,000 kanji may sound like intimidatingly many squiggles and lines to learn, but nope! WK’s got your back! Instead of memorising each and every line, you learn using radicals. Suddenly you’ll look at a kanji and see three radicals instead of 10+ strokes. Magic ✨ You’ll also learn the different pronunciations/readings of the kanji, and when you learn new vocabulary you’ll have a bunch of example sentences of varying difficulty help you see the word in its proper context.

Kanji readings made easy. And fun!

The learning process is separated into different levels (60 in total), each containing a certain amount of radicals, kanji, and vocabulary. There is a “Lessons” button for learning new stuff, and a “Reviews” button for reviewing the stuff you’ve previously learnt. Easy peasy, right? 🍋

Welp, that’s essentially the gist of it. I’ll now introduce some of the things I love about WK real quick:

First few levels for free - this way you’ll get a feel for how WK works while at the same time learn some basic kanji. Then you’re free to choose which type of membership you’d like to purchase (if any). (It’s so worth it though, if you ask me)

SRS: spaced repetition system - to optimise learning based on how human memory works. Greatly appreciated by my psychology major brain

The design, art, layout - clean, colourful, pretty, simplistic, professional, and easy to use only begins to describe it! Besides, how could we possibly hope to learn anything at all if the page weren’t aesthetically pleasing, amirite

Humour - good god there’s nothing worse than really dry textbook material. How about some really dry humour instead? Believe me, there are some GEMS in the example sentences

Game-like - the level up system makes you want to keep going back for more so you can level up. It’s sort of like that TED-talk about the Super Mario Effect: you’re so engrossed in the “I want to level up!” mindset that you forget that you’re actually learning heaps of useful kanji in the process

Community - whether you want someone to answer your questions about those pesky particles, want to laugh at extremely disproportionate manga drawings people have found while reading, want to practice chatting in Japanese with fellow learners, want a morale boost by checking out some wholesome doodles and gifs, lowkey want to join a Crabigator cult or want to join a Japanese book club - the WK community is the place to go. I just wanted to learn some kanji, man. Who would’ve thought I’d make actual, solid friendships? Aw. Wholesome

And last but not least:

The Tofugu guys who run the show - accommodating, kind, funny, professional, and quick to reply if something’s up. You see them lurking around in the community posts sometimes. You should totally consider checking out their articles about Japan and Japanese learning over on their blog, Tofugu. Super helpful! Or their podcast about the same stuff. All good times over there. (One of my personal faves is probably the one about ようかい.) They’re also currently working on developing a Japanese-learning-online-textbook-type of thing (...nailed it) called EtoEto. Super excited for that!

And that’s that on that! 🎊 If you have any questions about WK just send me an ask or pop by the WK Community (my @ in case you want to say hi: Alolvovan). Happy kanji learning! 頑張って！

#:)#日本語 #japan #japanese #langblr #japanese langblr #kanji #studyblr #wanikani #tofugu #pod #podcast #blog #study blog #study motivation #language #studying

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odos-bucket · 3 years

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So I was reading @andillwriteyouatragedy‘s incredible Brand New Day where Bruce and Clark adopt a young Dick Grayson together, and was thinking about a sort of companion story where they take in Jason together too. Using that story as a rough reference, I’m gonna say they’ve been together for a decade or so here. Dick is somewhere in his late teens. I’m figuring Clark probably offers to tag along on Bruce’s annual trip to crime alley every year. Bruce always politely declines. It’s basically become a part of the day’s bleak tradition. Clark is surprised when for once his offer is accepted. Later on, if pressed, neither of them would be able to pinpoint what was different about that night that made Bruce decide that it might be okay to have some company for once. Clark probably feels weird about it at first. Even though he’d asked Bruce if he wanted company, and Bruce had said yes, which he never would have unless he’d absolutely meant it (and Clark knows that). It still feels a little like he’s intruding on something private, even sacred. Then of course they get there, and there’s nothing going on. Superman’s senses don’t pick up the slightest hint of disruption anywhere in the neighborhood. Maybe they start patrolling around it anyways, maybe they just wander for a couple of blocks. Sooner or later they overhear someone talking about how it’s this night every year that Batman comes calling. Local criminals have picked up on the fact that if they just keep their heads down for this one specific night they can pretty much avoid him. Bruce is all grumbly about it, and immediately goes into ~strategy mode~ like, “Okay, I’ll have to start coming here on different days, on an irregular schedule.” He immediately opens up a dozen different tabs in his brain with calendars, and crime statistics, and is thinking a mile a minute, because that’s what he does. He’s kind of agitated about needing to change something that’s been a ritual for so long (because Batman has OCD, fight me) and he’s annoyed at himself for being bothered by it. Absolutely none of this sudden inner turmoil is detectable in his expression or body language. But Clark knows Bruce, knows how he reacts to things, and that there’s no way he’s not annoyed right now. He says, “Sounds like tonight will be a bust if we stay here,” then when Bruce grunts in response, continues, “We could go back to the manor. Watch a movie.” Then after a pause. “Or we could patrol somewhere else.” A moment passes. When Bruce says, “Okay,” Clark isn’t sure which suggestion he’s agreeing to, but they start back towards the car. It’s not a long walk, but they aren’t moving particularly quickly. By the time they get back to the batmobile it only has one wheel.

Clark frowns as he walks closer, before being stopped in his tracks by a surprising sound. It’s a sound that he recognizes immediately, that he hears all too infrequently. Bruce is laughing. Clark’s mouth quirks into a half smile. He takes a few steps forward, thinking about just picking the whole thing up and flying it back home. Then from a few paces ahead he hears Bruce’s low, gravelly Batman voice say, “Hi there.” Once he’s tuned in to the idea of another presence nearby, it becomes obvious to his advanced senses that someone is lurking behind the car. “Shit,” a small voice says. Bruce takes a few steps closer. “Planning on finishing the job?” He gestures to their remaining wheel. Clark shifts until he can get the kid partially in his sight without the aid of x-ray vision. He’s small, and looks to be somewhere in his pre-teens. “I got no idea what you’re talking about,” he says quickly. “Oh really?” Bruce asks. The boy glares at him. “Nice tire iron,” Bruce continues. “Comes in handy.” “I bet it does.” No sooner than the words are out of Bruce’s mouth, the tool is colliding with his shin. The boy shoots out from behind the car, and down a nearby street. Clark starts toward Bruce, who quickly gestures for him to go after the kid instead. He catches up with him in less than a second. When his hand falls onto the kid’s shoulder he freezes, muscles tightening throughout his body, and heart rate speeding up rapidly. The fear response is so sudden and extreme that Clark finds himself pulling away as if he’s been burned. The anxiety around being feared is something he’s mostly left in his past, but there’s a deep rooted insecurity within him that it still prods at. The kid stumbles when he starts to run again, and by then Bruce has caught up. They hang back, but trail after the boy at a distance, until they reach a condemned building a few blocks away. “Should we go in?” Clark asks. “Probably where my tires are,” Bruce says, before climbing through an uncovered doorway. It isn’t hard to find him again. There aren’t too many heartbeats in the area to distinguish between. When Bruce opens the door to the dilapidated room, the boy’s pulse rate jumps through the roof. Nothing changes externally about him though, and Clark wonders whether or not Bruce can tell that he’s afraid of them. There’s the slightest vibration to his words when he speaks. “Okay, take your stupid tires already. I’m sorry, all right? Just leave me alone!” Bruce isn’t looking at his tires. He’s looking around the room, no doubt noticing the same things that Clark has, mold, water damage, a broken window. The place is freezing. Then in the corner there’s a cardboard box with some pasta and canned goods in it, a small stack of books, and a mattress on the floor. “Do you… live here?” Bruce asks. “Yeah. What of it?” Bruce takes a few more steps into the room. “Where are your parents, son?” Clark asks. “Mom’s dead. I dunno where Dad is; don’t really care, if I’m being honest. Now take your stuff and go already!” He’s holding the iron up again, wielding it in a manner that’s clearly meant to be threatening. Bruce plucks it out of his hands with relative ease, inspects it, then turns it around and hands it back. “Move your thumb up like this, and you’ll have a sturdier grip. And don’t stand with your legs so far apart, it’ll put you off balance.” He sighs. “What’s your name?” “… Jason.” He grabs the tire iron back, shuffling to adjust his grip and footing, keeping his stance defensive. Bruce looks around the place again. “You can’t stay here, Jason.” “Oh yeah? Says who? I can take care of myself! Been doing it for long enough.” Bruce glances up at Clark, who can see the wheels turning in his head, before looking back at Jason. “I’d really like the wheels of my car back,” he says carefully, then hurries to continue before Jason can interject. “Can I make you a deal? We’ll buy you dinner if you reattach the batmobile’s tires?”

There’s a fast food place a couple of blocks away that’s open 24 hours. Jason agrees to accompany them, but walks a few yards behind. The employees at the place aren’t at all phased by the appearance of the two vigilantes. Bruce inspects a suspicious stain on one of the walls, while Jason and Clark look at the menu posted above the counter. They order- Bruce gets two of what Jason asks for- then go outside to eat. Bruce is lost in thought as they exit the restaurant, wondering what it would take to bring free food trucks to the area. Jason’s halfway done with his meal by the time they sit down on the sidewalk. “Do you go to school around here?” Bruce asks, wanting to put together a fuller picture of the boy’s situation. Jason gets a distant look in his eyes in response to the question. He finishes chewing slowly, swallows, then shakes his head, clearing his throat before replying. “No. Not for a long time now.” He shrugs. “I got all I needed to out of it.” “You had some pretty advanced reading material back at your place for someone who didn’t finish middle school.” Bruce recalled seeing The Odyssey amongst his few possessions, as well as a couple of Shakespeare plays. Jason shrugs again. “Reading’s not that hard.” “Some people find it very difficult,” Clark says. “Some people are stupid.” Bruce cuts in before Clark can start on the gentle reprimand he can see him preparing. “Ever think that maybe you’re just smart?” Jason gives him a curious look, like that really wasn’t a possibility that he had considered before, then takes another bite, and stares off thoughtfully. “So, Homer,” Bruce prompts. Jason nods. “It’s a fun story. Odi-seuss is a dick though.” Bruce resists both the compulsion to correct his pronunciation of ‘Odysseus’, and Alfred’s voice in the back of his head urging him to tell the kid not to swear. “What makes you say that?” He asks instead. Jason looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Gee, I don’t know, maybe all the pillaging, and murdering he does throughout the entire book.” “Poem,” Bruce corrects. “What?” “The Odyssey is a poem.” “Wait, really?” Bruce hums an affirmative. “Huh… cool. But the point still stands.” “I’m inclined to agree with you. Have you ever read The Scarlet Pimpernel?” Jason shakes his head. “It’s been a personal favorite for a long time,” says Bruce. Clark shoots him an amused grin. “I’ll keep an eye out for anyone throwing out a copy,” Jason says. Bruce frowns. “You have a library around here.” The remark earns him an unamused snort. “It’s a Gotham library; people don’t go there to read books, they go there to buy, sell and/or ingest drugs, and they tend not to be too happy with anybody who’s lingering around while they’re doing it.” Bruce feels a pang, not for the first time that night. “Jason,” he starts, before realizing he isn’t sure what to say. Jason keeps angled to watch him expectantly as he rises to deposit his napkins and bag in a nearby trashcan. “We’d like to help you,” Clark says. “Yeah,” Jason scoffs. “Right. Just how do you plan on doing that? Because I’ve heard that before. I’ve done the whole foster care thing already, and I’m not about to go through it again.” “No,” Bruce is quick to agree. “But there are residential schools in the city. We could help you to get enrolled in one.” Jason seems taken aback by the offer. “…Why?” He asks slowly. “Well for one, because kids should be in school. You’d be provided with room and board for the duration of your time there, which would leave you with less to worry about.” He reaches out to pass Jason the second takeout bag. He’s still lingering at a distance from them. “At least think about it?” “No. I mean, like, why?” Bruce’s eyebrow raises, tugging at the material of his cowl. “What’s in this for you?” Jason continues. “Why do you even care?” “It’s our job,” Clark says. “You’re job is to beat up bad guys.” Clark smiles when Jason mimes punching someone, before saying, “Our job is to help people.” Jason purses his lips. “Don’t boarding schools cost money?” “Most of them offer scholarships,” Bruce says. “I have a few friends who are deans. I could make the necessary introductions to ensure you a place at one of their institutions.“ Jason’s arms are crossed high over his chest, and his expression is set like he’s deep in thought. “I don’t want to end up stuck somewhere where someone else is the boss of me.” “How about you at least come with us to check a couple of these places out,” Bruce suggests. “Just see how you feel about them. No commitment.” Jason’s nose scrunches up. “Where exactly are these places?” He asks. “It varies,” Bruce says. “All within the city.” They watch the boy chew on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Just to see,” he says eventually. Bruce nods. “I’m not getting into a car with you,” Jason adds. “We can take the bus,” Clark offers. Jason raises an eyebrow at that, and his mouth quirks almost into a smile. “Batman and Superman are gonna ride on Gotham’s shitty public transit?” “Why not?” Clark asks. “… Okay,” Jason says, still plainly unconvinced. “Let’s meet back here,” Bruce suggests. “Tomorrow?” Jason takes a minute, but eventually starts to nod. “Sure,” he says. “Why not.” They part ways after Clark disposes of his empty bag. The heroes return to their car.

While they’re driving back Clark says, “I know that look.” Bruce pauses to take stock of his own expression, and makes sure to neutralize anything on his face that might be out of the ordinary. Clark continues, unbothered by the lack of response. “It’s your ‘I’m already deeply emotionally invested in this kid’ look.” Bruce hums noncommittally. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight,” Clark adds. Bruce doesn’t either, but that’s par for the course at this point.

Part Two

#batman #superbat #superman #clark kent #bruce wayne #jason todd #dc comics #my writing #batfam #batfamily #dc #haven't shared any of my writing anywhere in a while but I'm desperately craving validation so here we are

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honeysidesarchived · 3 years

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WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

pt. ii: they whose lives do not taste of evil ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 2.7k

warnings: none that are chapter specific.

rating: m/t

notes: thank you to everyone who has loved on me and supported me after posting the first part of this! it really makes me so warm and fuzzy inside and i cannot express in words how grateful i am. ♡

as always, thank you to my love @starcrier for being my most wonderful beta. ♡♡

Morning light filters through the curtains in the bedroom. The air conditioning had clicked off moons ago, having decided that the room was at its sufficient temperature; now just a few rays of the sun are warming the carpet on her side, cutting across the cream-colored knit blanket at the foot of the bed. Through the windows, she can hear the bustle of New York—churning, grinding, a beast of its own as it laboriously beneath their own feet.

Sometimes, Euphemia thinks that she hates New York—that she misses the countryside in Italy, that she misses bare feet on grass and warm, dark earth and the sticky-wet of pulling fruit straight from the vine. Sometimes, Euphemia thinks that New York is a beast waiting for her, to swallow her up, teeth ripping through pavement and concrete and brick to bite bite bite until it reaches her.

But not today. Today, Euphemia is not thinking about the Beast. She is thinking only about the fact that Santino’s spot beside her is empty, and then she’s reminded that today he will be wandering out into the world under the Table to ask a man who doesn’t want anything to do with Santino to grant him a favor. To grant Santino what he is owed, as he would prefer it framed.

Euphemia sits up in bed. She’s not sure when it is that she finally fell asleep, but if the drag of exhaustion in her mind is any indication, it wasn’t very long ago. She can’t recall if she dreamt, or if she rested even at all—if she had to guess, she’d think she spent the entire night tossing and turning, restless, with the burning itch of John Wick’s threatening presence looming in her future.

She can hear Santino out in the kitchen; the smell of coffee drifts in through the open door. The blonde slips out of bed to wander out, her footfalls quiet on the plush carpet, and she sees him—dressed, polished up, as though he got a perfect eight hours of sleep. An old song hums through the speakers of the sound system on the entertainment stand.

So much for keeping him distracted, Euphemia thinks ruefully.

“Good morning,” Santino greets, pouring a cup of coffee and setting it on the island counter to scoot it in her direction. “You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could have,” Euphie replies, taking the cup in her hands and using it to warm her fingers rather than drinking the coffee. “It wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t feel like I have slept at all.”

“Yes,” he agrees somberly, “you were restless.” His hand reaches up, the pad of his thumb tracing the slope of her jaw. “My little worrier.”

She crinkles her nose at him, finally relenting and taking a sip of her coffee. He’s made it just the way that he knows she likes—strong, rich, cream and no sugar. Santino winds his arms around her and laces his fingers against the small of her back, leaning so that he can get a long, good look at her.

“Well, go on,” he prompts her, eyes glittering playfully. “I know you want to say something to keep me home.”

Euphie’s chest tightens. It’s a little cruel of him; he wants to hear her ask, even though they both know there’s nothing she could say to change his mind. He likes to have her ask just so he can tell her no, and usually, she won’t bite. Not for his ego.

But this is different.

She sets the coffee aside, her hands instead finding his chest, holding on to the lapel of his jacket. She says, “I don’t want you to go, Santi. Please don’t go. We can stay in bed all day, or—what if we went back to Italy? Just for a little while? My mother would like to see you, I know.” Swallowing, Euphie feels her lashes flutter, the desire to let her voice wobble with emotion almost overwhelming. I won’t, she thinks, I won’t cry. “We can do anything you want, but—not this.”

“Sweet Euphie,” Santi sighs, taking her face in his hands. “Così dolce, just for me, aren’t you?” He leans in and kisses her temple; for a split second, she thinks that he might acquiesce, that he might set it aside, even for one day—indulge her, the way that he likes to do. Santino has always wanted her to be selfish with him. When they’d started dating, it took her months to get used to the way he’d buy her anything, cook her anything, give and get her anything, and for a girl who’d had so very little for so long, it had almost been nauseating. She would eat her fill, and Santino would say, more, cara mia? Would you like more? As if he had known that allowing her to indulge herself in the fruits of his world under the Table would curse her to stay, forever.

And here she was. Stuck. Blissfully, dreadfully, wretchedly, sickeningly and wonderfully stuck.

“But no,” he continues, pulling back and tilting her chin up with his fingers. “Business needs to be taken care of before I can relax.”

Euphemia releases a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. It’s not an unexpected response, but she won’t kick herself for trying—not considering the circumstances, considering what he is leaving to do. In anything else, she might have been too proud to say please.

Her fiancé plants a kiss on both of her cheeks. “Drink your coffee,” he commands, his voice light as he grabs his phone and tucks it into his pocket, heading for the door. “What time is the engagement party?”

“Seven,” Euphie replies tiredly. She does as he bids like it’s second nature to her now, taking a drink of the coffee. “Be back by five, Santi.”

His hand is on the handle to the door outside. She thinks she might be sick. He says, “Wear the red dress I like.”

“Maybe. If you behave.”

Santino flashes her a grin from the doorway. She wonders if anyone else is comfortable ordering him around, or if she’s just so accustomed to living with an apex predator that she’s become numb to his dangers.

“Yes, cara mia,” he purrs. “Anything you say.”

Except that isn’t true, she thinks, watching him open the door and greet Ares, who has been waiting—lurking, in the hall to the elevator, like the shadows cut across the floor from the chandelier lights. There is a tiny moment where their eyes meet over Santino’s shoulder, and Euphemia hopes that she might see pity; she’s miserable, after all, knowing that Santino is walking into a slaughterhouse.

As ever, Ares is unreadable. There is only the tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of the corner of her mouth, and then door is closed and Euphemia is alone. And there is a tiny, vicious part of her that says, we ought to get used to being alone. We never should have forgotten it in the first place.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Santino is late, and when he shows up, he doesn’t say whether things went well or not.

They must have gone well enough, because he’s alive and in one piece and in a fine enough mood. But that is the problem—his mood is fine. He arrives at his own engagement party in a fine mood, and Euphemia can’t decide what’s more irritating: that he’s late, that he won’t tell her how it went, or that he can’t fake being delighted for a few hours.

“Ah, there’s your man,” Winston says, a smile lifting his expression. The older man had been keeping her company as the hour ticked by and she had to say hello and hi and thank you to every guest attending at Santino’s behest—yet another frustrating detail, Euphemia mentally notes, that he’d bothered all of these folks to show up and didn’t have the decency to arrive on time himself. She’s very certain that Winston did not intend to stay as long as he has, and for that, she feels poorly.

But she’s too irritated to express it properly. “Is that one mine?” Euphie asks lightly, turning her gaze away from Santino striding into the room and getting stopped by guests on his way to her. She twists her untouched champagne flute in her fingers, fixing her gaze back on Winston. “No man of mine would come late to his own party. Not if he wanted to walk out in one piece.”

Winston laughs at her words and gives her hand a pat. “You are a woman after my own heart, Euphemia Volpe.”

“I’ll be accepting applications for the position of my husband shortly, I think.”

She feels Santino’s hand on her waist just before he leans into kiss her cheek; the movement is so quick that she doesn’t have the time to properly avoid his affection, and he almost certainly does that on purpose.

“I am so glad you could come, Winston!” Santino announces, reaching and shaking the older man’s hand. “And that you got to spend some time with my own personal star.” He turns to her now, finally, reaching up to take her face in his hands. “Mi dispiace, Euphie, I did try to hurry.”

She tilts her head a little, lifting her chin out of his grasp. “Don’t apologize to me,” Euphemia replies. “Winston is the one you kept waiting.”

Santino grins. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes—or rather, it doesn’t look like the kind of grin that you make when you’re happy. Nothing about him screams happy, future wedded-bliss. Everything looks strained, like someone’s pissed him off and he’s just had to do something about it.

He looks at Winston, dropping his hands. “I’m sorry, truly.”

The man waves his hand, as though it isn’t a big deal—but it is, Euphie knows, at the very least to her; Winston has always treated her kindly, regardless of whose arm she was on-and he puts a hand on Santino’s shoulder. “I only came to say congratulations and see this fine lady, and then I was going to be off. So—congratulations...” His gaze turns to Euphemia. “Miss Volpe.” He kisses both of her cheeks. “Here I have seen you. And I will be on my way.”

Euphie says, “Thank you for coming, Winston. You did not need to wait around for this idiot.”

“I never say no to time with a beautiful lady,” he admonishes, making to leave. “Santino just happens to be here.”

“I will walk you out,” Santino declares. He’s only just arrived, and he smells a little bit like smoke, and he’s carrying with him a strange, frantic energy; but before Euphemia can think to say anything, he’s kissing her—hard, and a little desperate, and she can feel an eerie tremble in his hands before he pulls away and takes her drink out of her hand and swallows the entire thing in one go.

And then he’s off. Walking away with Winston, who looks calm and unbothered by the erratic display (though Winston always looks that way, so it’s no good gauge for Euphemia to tell when something is off). But something is off. As they’re walking, Santino is talking to Winston with a frenetic urgency that translates only in ways she can recognize. To the outside eye, her fiancé is composed, and perhaps a little stressed, his strides collected and tight and his lopsided grin to sharp to be pleasant.

His kiss tastes of ash. She can feel it in her mouth, still, gunpowder and smoke lingering in the palette, but she will not bring herself to think about where it came from.

By the time Santino returns from “walking Winston out”—which probably means talking to Winston about something he doesn’t want Euphie to hear—she has decided to bring it up. She doesn’t know how, yet, but she’s going to do it.

He slides his arms around her as she visits with some of their friends, burying his face into the crook of her neck, like he just can’t stand not to be touching for a second longer. The conversation carries on blithely without her; Euphie reaches up and cradles the side of Santino’s face with her hand, fingers brushing the dark, honeyed curls at his temple. She’s decided to be sweet about it.

“You seem stressed,” she murmurs.

“Not stressed,” Santino replies, speaking the words into her neck. He sways a little, turning her in his arms and pulling her against him so that he can sway her with him. The movements are leisurely in comparison to the energy that he’s carrying; pushing and pulling with the lull of the delicate music playing overhead. It should be a dream, this engagement party. It’s all golden light and warmth billowing from an ornate fireplace, the people that she cares the most about celebrating her and Santino’s love.

Euphemia says, “You smell like smoke.”

It’s not a question, and Santino knows it. He holds one of her hands in his and presses their foreheads together.

“You are so beautiful, Euphie,” he sighs dreamily. He kisses her again—less urgent this time—and she knows what it means: it’s better if she doesn’t ask. She’s going to be a D’Antonio, which means that problems get taken care of for her, and she doesn’t have to worry about following up.

Still, while the warmth of his kiss is distracting and lovely, and the feel of his hands pressing into the base of her spine where the plunging back of the red silk dress he likes the best on her makes her skin break out in delighted goosebumps, she cannot help but think, I should know. I have a right to know what’s going on.

“Santi,” she begins, lower her voice even more, “if something has happened—”

“Nothing has happened,” Santino insists, turning her slowly before drawing her back against him. “Mia piccola volpe, stop fussing. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Her lips press into a thin line. “Yes,” she replies after a minute, “you did.” But if something has happened, she wants to say, and can’t bring herself to because Santino is kissing her again, pleased with her concise and obedient answer; he kisses her again and again, between breaths, funneling all of his frenzied energy into her instead. He gives it to her to hold, but won’t tell her where it’s come from or why it’s there. Just shoves it into her for safekeeping.

People cat-call and holler and whoop and laugh, and he grins against her mouth, lifting her up against him playfully—just far enough off the ground that she loops her arms around his neck to steady herself, unable to focus on how frustrating it is to be worried, and not know why.

“Ti amo,” Santino rumbles against her collarbone, kissing there reverently. “What do you think about leaving, hm? Sneak out of our own engagement party early, so I can take you home and enjoy you properly?”

It sounds too good, to go home. It sounds too good, because just that morning, she was begging him not to leave.

“I don’t know,” she ventures, smoothing her hand absently over the lapel of his suit jacket once he’s set her back down. “I don’t know, Santi, I...”

Her voice trails off. Ares is by the door. Once, the woman had been a comfort to her; now, she’s a reminder of this traitorous thing Santino has done, this thing that sits between them but only he can see and touch and feel, and Euphie just has to suffer the consequences of it one way or another.

“Come on, cara mia,” he coaxes, drawing her eyes back to him, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. “We can do whatever you want.”

There must be something he isn’t telling me, she thinks. Something that’s blown his pupils wide until the black at them is eating away at the gorgeous jade green of his irises. Something dreadful, that he knows she’ll hate. That she’ll fuss about.

The question sits there, just on the tip of her tongue. What about Wick? she wants to ask. But she already knows that he won’t tell her, and she is learning quickly not to ask.

Ignorance is bliss, anyway.

#santino d'antonio x oc #john wick fic #spilled ink #santino d'antonio/oc #f: where there is no temptation there is no glory #c: euphemia volpe #santino d'antonio #i still feel exceptionally shy about this but dkjhfdkf #thank u thank u thank u everyone who has given me love!!!!#x: senza tentazioni senza onore

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rocorambles · 4 years

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Fool

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Rape/Non-con, Manipulation, Degradation

Summary: Your body might be the most spotless and pristine it’s ever been, but you’ve never felt more disgusting, more filthy in your entire life.

Requested by Anon

Sakusa quietly walks besides Komori and you while the two of you giddily chatter about one thing or another. He honestly could care less about his cousin and his new friend. He has more important things to worry about. Volleyball, nationals, school, staying healthy and clean. Who cares about a random girl his cousin started talking to? But then you slowly become a permanent fixture in their group. The three of you walk to and from high school together every day. You all study together, exchanging notes and information. You simultaneously bite into store bought onigiris after school.

At first he talks to you out of sheer politeness, accepting the fact that he might as well make a bit of small talk considering how he’s going to see you every day at this rate. But as time goes on he finds himself actively joining in the conversations, seeking you out at lunch time, and hanging out with you on the weekends. He finds himself looking for your face in between class breaks, nagging you to wear your face mask, and thinking of you even when you aren’t with him. But he doesn’t dwell on it. Volleyball is still the top priority in his life and the three of you graduate from high school as close friends, but nothing more than that.

It’s hard to keep in close contact during college since the three of you are in different universities. Texts are exchanged once in a while. Sometimes he’ll open his phone and see Komori and you littering the group chat with stupid memes and mindless nonsense. On his birthday he’ll get a phone call from both of you, but that’s the extent of it. Well, that’s the extent of it for him. A sickening feeling coils in his stomach when he opens social media and sees a photo of Komori and you at brunch on a random weekend and he wonders if he might be coming down with something. But the dark feeling lurks and festers in him as he sees more photos of just the two of you out and about shopping together, eating together, partying together.

Sakusa knows that Komori and you have always been closer than him and you. It’s Komori who’s always been your first choice when you need help with something. It’s Komori who’s the first person you run to when you want to share a funny post you saw. So he shouldn’t be surprised to know that the two of you hang out frequently without him, but that doesn’t stop the green eyed monster from growing bigger and bigger inside of him. It keeps on expanding within him as college continues until all he can think about is you.

As soon as he wakes up, he turns on his phone and scrolls through your social media feeds. Whenever he has a second of spare time, he finds himself flipping through photos of you. Right before he goes to sleep, he goes through old text messages you’ve sent. He has to stop himself from throwing his phone against the wall in anger whenever Komori’s face beams up at him, far too close to your own smiling face and with an arm slung far too familiarly over your shoulders. The three of you see each other in person a few times a year during college breaks, but it’s not enough and having Komori there only fuels the urgency within him.

He hasn’t seen you in a while. Now that you’re all working, it’s hard to find the time to get together. You’re only free on weekends, but that’s usually when Komori and he are traveling for volleyball games. But that doesn’t mean you’re not on his mind. Quite the opposite in fact. Absence makes the heart grow fonder after all. Sakusa hates jacking himself off. There’s something so primitive and disgusting about the whole thing and he grimaces at the sticky feeling of his pre-cum, but he can’t even keep count of the amount of times he’s waited for Bokuto’s, Atsumu’s, and Hinata’s breaths to even out in their shared hotel rooms before opening up his phone and looking at his favorite saved photos of you while stroking himself off. He recoils in disgust when warm liquid spills across his hand, but when he imagines how pretty you’d look licking it clean for him, it’s suddenly not all that bad.

It’s one of his very few free weekends and he makes his way to his seat in the audience before settling down and watching Komori and his team warm up before their match. He internally groans when he feels the presence of someone sitting next to him and immediately starts trying to shrink in on himself in order to minimize any contact with the other person. “Sakusa?” His head turns so fast his mask almost flies off when he hears the familiar voice. He can feel his chest tighten when he sees you so close to him and his body instinctively leans closer to you, drawn to the woman he’s been fantasizing about for years. The two of you catch up, but he’s hardly paying attention to the actual words as he watches your lips move, as he watches your hands wave in the air, as he watches your eyes sparkle. He can feel his fingers twitch, desperate to see how soft and warm you’d be in his hold, desperate to touch someone in a way he’s never felt before. He usually abhors the idea of physically touching anyone or anything, but when it’s you, there’s nothing he wants more.

He snaps back to attention when you loudly cheer for Komori and anxiety springs up within him when he realizes they’re almost done with the second set. No, no, no. This wasn’t enough time. He needs more of you. His thoughts spiral as he thinks about how to keep you with him a little longer, but then it clicks when he sees the adoration in your eyes as you attentively watch Komori racing across the court. His eyes darken when he sees the way you look at his cousin and he knows exactly how to get his way.

“Hey, Komori is going to come over to my place tonight. You’re more than welcome to just hang out with me after the game ends until then. It’ll be nice for all three of us to hang out again. It’s been a while.”

His jaw clenches at the way a blush of red tints your cheeks when he mentions Komori’s name, but he digs his nails into his thighs as he waits for your response. He knows he has you. Hook. Line. Sinker. And sure enough, you beam at him and excitedly agree. It’s nice to have you alone to himself and if he dreams enough, it almost feels like the two of you are on a date as he walks with you to his place, pleasantly conversing all the way. He can’t help but think you fit perfectly in his apartment. It just looks so right to have you in his home and he hides his smile with the cup of tea in his hands. But time passes far too quickly and he can see the way your leg begins to twitch when you ask him exactly when Komori will be arriving. His grip tightens and he forcefully takes a deep breath before he accidentally breaks his mug and gives you a tight smile, assuring you he’d be here soon. It’s time to finally set his final plan in motion.

He gets up to refill your cup, but just as his hands draw near you, he drops the entire pot on you, covering your entire shirt and lap with the liquid. He makes a show of panicking as he attempts to wipe you down (relishing in the feeling of your body beneath his hands as he rubs much harder, much longer than he needs to) and he almost smirks at how naive you are as you assure him it’s completely fine. Mistakes happen. He practically shoves you into the bathroom with a fresh towel and some of his clothes as he urges you to get clean and dry before leaving and closing the door behind him. But he doesn’t move an inch after that. He waits right outside the door and he can feel himself getting aroused as he hears the rustling of clothes and you shuffling around. He imagines how you look, completely stripped down and vulnerable. Thank God it’s not going to be just an imagination anymore.

He waits until he hears the shower begin to run, until he hears you clambering inside, until he hears you sweetly humming to yourself and then he moves faster than he’s ever moved before as he rips the door open and barges in, slamming the door behind him and locking it with a resounding click. You shriek when you see him and you yell at him to get out, but it’s no use and he has you on your knees, your head submerged under the water still cascading down from the showerhead. Your eyes clench shut in an effort to keep the water out as you take panicked gasps of breath through your mouth. It’s so hard to breathe when water is pouring on your face. It’s so hard to think when you’re caught off guard in a situation you’ve never even had nightmares about. You frantically claw at Sakusa’s arm that has a tight hold of your hair, but you instantly stop, instead aiming for the hard object that’s being shoved into your mouth. It’s disgusting and yet vaguely familiar. Kind of similar to when you accidentally get shampoo water in your mouth...Realization dawns on you and you try to spit out the bar of soap lodged in your mouth, but Sakusa’s grip is relentless as he shoves it in and out of your mouth, making sure to scrub it against every inch of your orifice that he can reach. You almost sob in relief when he finally removes it from your mouth, but that turns into pain when he jerks your head back until the shower water is pouring into your mouth and when it’s full, he slaps a hand over your lips and orders you to gurgle before finally shoving your head back down where you gag and heave as you spit the soapy suds out.

Mouth finally empty, you plead for him to stop, to explain why he’s doing this, but you cringe when he coldly looks down at you and says he’s not done cleaning you yet. You try to shove past him to get out of the enclosed space, get out of his home, but really, what chance do you think you have against a professional athlete, against one of the best volleyball players in the country? It’s embarrassing how easy it is for Sakusa to force you on all fours and you brokenly cry as he lathers his hands with the bar that had just assaulted your mouth before pumping his fingers in and out of your tight pussy, using the flexibility of his wrists to twist and turn, touching places you’ve never been able to reach yourself. Sakusa’s not even trying to provide you with any pleasure, intent on just making sure you’re completely clean before he uses you, but he’s so thorough and persistent with his movements that you can’t help the way your juices begin to leak as his fingers rub against every crevice.

He pulls his digits out in disgust as he sees the sticky coat you’ve left on them. “You’re such a fucking whore. Do you get turned on just from being cleaned? Do you like being filled that much? Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to give you what you want.” You shake your head in denial as your tears mingle with the water still streaming down on you, but you moan as Sakusa shoves his cock into your dripping cunt. He grips your hips so tightly his hands turn white and you rapidly pant as both of you adjust to being connected so intimately. But there’s only so much patience Sakusa has after lusting after you for years and he starts a punishing pace, pulling all the way out before fully slamming back into you with every thrust. Internally you beg him to stop, beg him for mercy, but the only things that spill from your lips is moan after moan as he fills you so well and you’re almost grateful for the fact that water is still coming down, the sound of drops hitting the shower floor blocking out some of the lewd humiliating sounds echoing in the small room. You feel something hot, something alive crawling from deep within you. It doesn’t feel like a normal orgasm. It seems bigger, more daunting and you clench your teeth and fists, trying to not let it out, but it’s no use and you scream as you erupt. Sakusa scowls when he sees the flood of liquids that pour out of you. What a fucking mess. And yet, you somehow feel even better like this. Sopping wet, quivering walls milking his cock. And that’s all it takes for him to release deep inside of you, letting your pretty hole hold his mess. He glowers down at the disgusting mix of transparent and white liquid that trickles out from you and that sticks to his length when he finally pulls out.

“Open your mouth.” You obediently follow his order. What use is it to fight now? Now that he’s already used you? He has you suck and lick his softening shaft until every remnant of fluid is gone and you gratefully pull off of him and collapse on the floor, glad that it’s all over. You glare at him, angry tears in your eyes as you spit out scathing insult after insult at him. “How the fuck could you do this to a friend? One of your closest friends? Someone you’ve known for years?” He rolls his eyes as you continue with your pointless rants, but he perks up at your next line.

“Wait until Komori gets here and I tell him exactly what you did.”

You falter when Sakusa begins laughing and you stumble back as he suddenly lurches towards you, but there’s nowhere for you to run and you squeal when he grabs the detachable shower head and holds it right above your pussy, still oversensitive and raw.

“Oh, Komori’s not coming. He doesn’t have time for dirty sluts like you. But maybe after I clean you up again, he’ll think about sparing you a minute.”

You howl as Sakusa once again reaches for the bar of soap and begins harshly rubbing it all over and inside your reddening flesh and you don’t know if it’s fueled by pain, pleasure, anger, or betrayal, but you keep on howling as your rose-tinted dreams of a friendly libero are ripped to shreds by the black haired monster above you. You howl until your voice can’t make any more sounds and then you just lie there under the now cooling water still spraying down on both of you as Sakusa continues. Your body might be the most spotless and pristine it’s ever been (it certainly feels like it is with how rigorously Sakusa scrubs you), but you’ve never felt more disgusting, more filthy in your entire life as he releases load after load inside of you, letting you feel, letting you know how foolish you are for ever thinking you had a chance with his cousin, for ever thinking he’d let you be with anyone other than him. And as the night drags on and on, you can’t help but begin to agree with him. What a fool you are.

#haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyuu #sakusa x reader #sakusa #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu writing #tw: noncon #tw: rape

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