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hh0320 · 2 years

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𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞—

part two of the velvet opiate series. part one.

pairing: rockstar! hyunjin x reader (+ minho, felix, chan)

genre: visual gothic rock band, dark smut, hurt/comfort, toxic skz, set in the late 90’s-early 00’s.

word count: 4k.

warnings: profanity, sexual themes, manipulation, drug & alcohol abuse, violence, self hate, mentioned self harm, boy on boy (this ch. only), mentions of bdsm, light sadism.

a/n: you guys have no idea how grateful i am for every single person that liked/interacted with the first part. seriously tysm, i have no words!! hope you guys like this one just as much 🤍

“Don’t fucking die on me, now, Hyun.”

Hyunjin jumped awake, panting, and sweaty. He blinked in the pitch blackness of his hotel room, nightmare still stuck on his eyelids. In, out, in, out…

It had been a week since you. A week locked in these four walls, with no way out, except a window fall from the seventh floor. Some nights he’d considered it—what life was he leading, anyway, but one that followed death? Why not just do it?

He’d do anything to see you again, but his manipulation tactics held no power anymore. He blew those chances when he got high on strict orders to do the exact opposite. He let down Felix…

In, out, in, out—

There was a knock on the door, and Chan’s figure filled its frame, looking around before turning on the light. Hyunjin scrunched his eyes, bringing a hand over his face. He’d been sleeping for fifteen hours, it was evening of the next day already.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he said, throwing a shirt toward Hyunjin’s way. “And cover up—nobody wants to see that.”

That was referring to the blonde boy’s arms, the marks on them, the popping veins, the fragile paleness. Hyunjin complied—he didn’t wanna see it, either.

“We have practice, tonight. There’s been a change in plans, tomorrow we play at a bar—VIP exclusive party.”

“I thought we’d stopped doing that.”

“Boss’ friend—he paid good money to secure us,” Chan explained, simply.

He pulled the thick curtains to reveal a beautiful, dusty pastel sky, bleeding its last colors before everything went dark. Hyunjin hadn’t seen outside in days, having spent majority of the week sleeping. A cool breeze entered through the now open window, and he was suddenly very grateful for his older friend.

Grateful he stuck around, thankful he hasn’t abandoned him yet. Kicked him out. Because it will happen, one day; he will have to leave, cut ties with all of them, and it’ll be the hardest thing he’ll ever do. No one has stayed this long before, kept with his bullshit for as long as his band has. Hyunjin knows he’s a helpless case, but he’s still grateful they consider him worthy of saving.

Hyunjin has never thought himself worthy of anything. Many times he’s had good things, all valuable and precious, but he’s fucked them all up. Turned them into wrong, sharp edges, all crooked and jagged—like him. You can only do what you are, everything else is fake. Pretend.

“Do you need more sketchbooks?” Chan points at the mess on his nightstand.

When Hyunjin isn’t playing the guitar, he draws. All he can, all he sees—his mind is a hyperactive black hole, and for that, at least, he is proud of. Images come to him as easy as breathing, and before he knows it, his hands are already sketching, drawing, shading, hours passing by, until finally the pencils drop, the brushes halt, and he stares back at the abyss he’s created.

“Yes,” he croaks, “please.”

Looking for his pack of cigarettes, he finds it empty, lying on the ground. Chan offers him one, and lights it for him. The burning in his throat soothes his pounding headache. His mouth felt like cotton, his hair like hay against his face.

He pulled it up in a bun, taking another drag of his borrowed cancer stick.

“You look like crap, I’m not going to bullshit you,” Chan sighed, sitting on the edge of the queen sized bed.

“But at least that shit’s out of your system. This will be the last time I say anything to you, Hyun, so I want you to actually fucking listen to me, okay?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, while Hyunjin finished his cigarette.

“I don’t want to have to kick your ass out, so fucking—just get your shit together, Hyunjin. You almost died—look,” Chan struggled to get the words out, couldn’t even look Hyunjin in the eye—the blonde fell back on his pillow, stared at the whiteness of the ceiling.

He’d heard all of it, before. Yet he knew, this time was for real. No more free passes, no more bullshit. He would have to deal with it—deal with the fact he was stuck living this life, whatever the fuck it entailed, whatever it meant. He was part of something much bigger than him, and he was being a selfish prick, not caring about what he’d leave behind, about the damage he’d cause.

He knew all this. So why, for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he just accept it? Why couldn’t he just do it?

“I know you’re fucked in the head. I know your childhood was messed up, and you think it’s too late. But it’s not. You can still choose to quit while you’re ahead of it. Quit before it fucking kills you.”

Chan had never seen Hyunjin cry. But the sobs that teared through his bandmates chest while he lay on that bed—it broke Chan’s heart to see his friend like this. Because he knew that Hyunjin had already had this conversation with himself— because he was frustrated he couldn’t find the answer within him.

Why couldn’t he quit? What was stopping him? Chan couldn’t say. But he stayed with the sobbing boy until nighttime came, stayed with him until they absolutely had to go to practice.

And he listened, in between those tears that fell, in between those broken intakes of shaky breath—I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve to have this.

I don’t deserve to be happy.

Felix was too hungover for this.

Chan had walked in the studio with the taller blonde following closely, both seemingly exhausted. The minute his eyes met Hyunjin’s, he wanted to crawl underneath his skin, and avoid him forever.

Seeing your other half passed out, unresponsive, sprawled out in a random abandoned trap house, in the worst part of town would make you feel that way. The way his pupils had reached the back of his head, not recognizing Felix, having no idea of his surroundings—he had promised.

He thought promises meant something between them. If to no one else, at least to him. The betrayal burned deep within his heart, but so did something else. Panic. Every time he’d close his eyes, there lay Hyunjin, half dead, needle in his limb hand.

“You have some fucking nerve, showing up.”

Hyunjin flinched at his best friend’s tone, visibly hurt. Chan glared at Felix, but handed Hyunjin his guitar, tuned and ready to be used.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” Chan assumed his usual leader position, dissolving the argument before it could start.

Too bad this time it wouldn’t work.

“At least he’s not haunting our asses,” Minho commented absentmindedly, playing something low on his bass.

“How can you joke about this?” Felix said, intently staring down at the floor. He furrowed his brows, and shook his head, before pushing off the wall, and walking out the confined space.

Hyunjin sighed, looking back at the rest of his band. Both men nodded, and Hyunjin went after the younger one. He found him on the floor, next to the vending machine, sipping from a soda can. He sat down next to him, both silent, both distraught.

He had never meant to hurt Felix. He also didn’t have a fucking clue—how to stop sabotaging his life, how to be considerate of others. Hyunjin was never taught how to receive love, never shown how to hold it in his hand, take care of it.

He had never meant to hurt Felix, yet he did anyway, every single time.

“I just want you to stay alive,” said the freckled boy, under his breath, tears pooling at the edges of his light eyes.

Hyunjin lit a cigarette, played with the lighter in his hand. Opened his mouth to speak—said nothing.

“I thought it wasn’t that serious. That you were just fucking around, like Minho. What the fuck did I know, huh?” Felix rocked back and forth, chuckling darkly.

“I never meant for you to see me like that.” Hyunjin knew how that sounded, knew it wasn’t the right thing to say.

Now that he was caught by the one person that looked up to him, what? He was gonna magically stop being addicted to drugs? What exactly did everyone expect from him? If anything, this whole situation made him wanna shoot himself in the head even more.

He really needed to see you. He wanted to disappear with you, in you. Make you scream his name—he wanted his mark on you, just how you’d marked him that first moment he laid eyes on you.

You were untainted, had nothing to do with him. Felix had been the sun for Hyunjin, a bright figure shedding his light on everything, forgiving and holy.

Hyunjin had tainted him, just like he bleeds on anything he touches. Never knows when it’s too far, always too much, all at once. No one could understand better than himself—he fucking loathed who he was. Would rather die, than hurt more people around him.

Yet if you poked, he’d stab back. That was the nature of Hwang Hyunjin.

“No one can fucking help you.”

“I never asked for help,” Hyunjin’s voice held no emotion.

Felix grabbed him by the neck, and kissed him hard.

They growled deep, attacking each other’s mouths like starved animals. Hyunjin pushed him back, and got on top of him, soda spilling everywhere. Both men were tugging on each other’s clothes, both forgetting they were in the middle of a hallway.

They didn’t do this often. But neither of them could bear to get physical with each other, their feelings too deep.

“You should go to her,” Felix muttered, panting. “Fuck her numb.”

“You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Hyunjin smirked against his mouth, biting on his lip.

“You’re straight as a fucking line, Hwang. I don’t take advantage of lost souls.”

Hyunjin chuckled, tracing Felix’s lips with his fingers. “A shame,” he whispered.

A knowing look passed between them, before Chan yelled from afar to hurry up. They got on their feet, simpering at each other, hearts heavy with longing.

Hyunjin put an arm around his friend, sometimes more, always important, a new cigarette in his mouth.

“We gotta go with daddy first,” he joked, entering the studio once again.

The light is able to penetrate, but it never stays for long. Like an unwanted guest, it excuses itself and vanishes before Hyunjin can realize it was even there.

The party was at an underground bar, with low lighting and lots of drunk, rich people, looking to let go for once.

Velvet Opiate showed up on stage dressed in all black, opening with one of their darker songs. Felix taking the center, he sang in his deep baritone voice, putting everyone under his spell.

Hyunjin had always admired the younger member for his ability to entrance whole stadiums. He appeared innocent, his genuine personality being passed as naivety, but the band knew—Felix had a sensuality, a charm, that could make you drop on your knees immediately, surrender your soul to him.

He used it to his advantage, often.

Applause, and then Chan started the next song, Minho joining in, expert fingers strumming the bass line for ‘Burn’. Felix got a hold of the microphone stand, bringing his lips close, erotically speaking into it:

“Good evening, we’re Velvet Opiate.”

Hyunjin thought he imagined it at first, a glimpse of your hair. But then he saw you, stealing glances on stage, while serving his manager’s table, and his eyes widened, hands almost messing up the melody of the song.

You, here, amongst these pretentious assholes. Why?

‘Run through my veins, like disease… disease…’

By the end of the set, all boys had spotted the reason for Hyunjin’s disheveled state. The girl with the mini skirt, circling around, getting tips by throwing smiles at old scum bags.

Minho had to hold him back from running to you. He doubted Hyunjin was thinking straight, because he was about to cause a scene in front of everyone. The blonde looked at Minho’s hand, and back at you, nodding, pulling his hand away, disappearing behind the curtains first.

Hyunjin waited by the bar, following you with his eyes. You seemed to be ignoring him, focusing on entertaining those dickheads. He hated each and every one of them, for groping you, for undressing you with their disgusting stares—those higher ups from their recording label, with their dirty money, and old ideologies.

It had been extremely hard for their manager to persuade them to sign the band. The chief director of the board stuck in his belief that ballads sold way more than a rock band. He couldn’t have been more wrong, at the end. Velvet Opiate went platinum on their first week, releasing their debut single. Have sold more than ten million copies of their latest CD, with sold out tours domestically, and internationally.

The photographers of the event snapped pictures of him, before Joon shooed them away, turning their attention towards the birthday guy and his friends—Velvet Opiate’s said director, and CEO of the company, along with people Hyunjin has never met.

You almost got caught in the picture, politely scurrying to the side, but director Han had other plans, instead grabbing you by the waist and forcing you to stand next to him. A nervous smile on your lips, you played it off well. If Hyunjin hadn’t been doing the same thing for the past four years of his life, he would’ve very well been fooled.

“Goddamnit,” he hissed under his breath, hands balling into fists.

He had to get you away from there. No money in the world was worth whoring yourself out for these idiots.

Finishing his drink, he put a cigarette between his lips, noticing Minho coming his way, Chan and Felix signing autographs a few feet away.

“Apparently, your friend was hired for this event,” Minho informed him, sporting a cig himself.

“They’re harassing her, the fuckers.”

Minho studied his band mate, figuring there’s a story between the two of you. Hyunjin hadn’t cared for anyone like this, in a long time.

“What can you do? It’s her job,” he affirmed, hands in pockets. “I, on the other hand, can provide a distraction.”

Hyunjin looked at him, watching as he walked towards the men, politely interrupting their banter. Minho had always been pleasant; he knew how to carry a conversation, manipulating the room to his will with cat like movements. He was intoxicating.

Sensing your cue, you escaped the crowd of men. That was Hyunjin’s chance—he followed you, snatching your hand, ushering the both of you through the back exit, and out into the starless night.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, trying to break free from your kidnapper’s death grip, before his features registered in you, morphing into the man that had been tormenting your dreams as of late.

The rockstar that had stolen your heart with his songs, on stage, moments ago. He was now standing in front of you, gazing at you angrily.

You took a step back, suddenly afraid. He towered over you, an angel dressed in an all black suit, blazer open to reveal naked skin underneath, sharp eyes preying, pale hair in a half up ponytail.

You were totally exposed in your work uniform, which covered barely the essentials. You’d been forced to wear it, and a year into it, you couldn’t really complain—it worked in your favor, your tips doubling, tripling the less you wore.

Why was Hyunjin so angry with you?

“Hello, sweetheart,” he spoke in a low, dangerous voice, closing the gap between you.

You were trapped against the building’s brick wall and his firm chest. Putting his arms up, blocking you in, there was nowhere to run, and he seemed to know that, as well.

He smiled at you, his pretend serene face level with yours.

“Tell me,” he continued, lips brushing against your own, “are you in such dire need for money?”

His question caught you off guard. Was he insinuating…?

“I do what I have to,” you replied sharply. “I have no one to care after me.”

He hummed, fingers tracing circles against your arm, glinting eyes running over your frame. A fire was starting in your belly, traveling lower. You’d missed him incredibly.

Even if he had just insulted you, you couldn’t help your body’s reaction to him. Couldn’t help wanting him gravely.

“What if I do?” He whispered in your ear, his arm snaking around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “What if I take care of you?”

You could feel all of him, your heart beating the same as his.

“Would you accept me?” He traced a path with his tongue, down your neck, ending just above your bust.

“What are you asking me?” You breathed, completely taken by him.

Why couldn’t you seem to get your thoughts straight whenever you were near him? What was it about him that drove you absolutely crazy with lust?

Hyunjin smirked, withdrawing from you completely. A pack of cigarettes in his hand, he is soon lighting one, blowing smoke your way, slowly backing away, ‘till his back hits the wall opposite you.

What was his game? Why were you dying, when you could see him but not touch him? Get a grip, (Y/N). That’s what he wants.

You’d give everything. He only had to come back, come closer. You put your hands behind you, scared to reach out, when he put such distance between you.

“Will you come with me?” He crossed one leg in front of the other, hand in his trousers pocket, the other bringing the cig to his full mouth, taking a long drag of it, all the while never breaking eye contact.

“Stay with me? Do what I ask of you?” He cocked an eyebrow, seeing you squirm, enjoying the way you rubbed your legs together—all for him.

Would you? “Yes,” you sighed. “Yes.”

His husky laugh drove you over the edge. You went to move towards him, but he shook his head, making a ‘tsk’ sound. Your legs locked in place, nails digging into your palms. Please…please let me…

“Good girl.”

You heard it, then. The clicking noise. It all made sense, suddenly—his distance, the hushed tone. It also knocked some sense into you; you’d been seen with the lead guitarist of Velvet Opiate. He wasn’t just a normal man, he was a superstar—and he’d chosen you.

What had been so special about you? You lead a lonely life, work being the most that was going on for you; you lived in a small apartment, making ends meet by showing off your body. There was nothing exciting about you, nothing much at all, and yet this man was risking a scandal not just for him, but his band also, just by being near you.

He watched you as your mind went into overdrive, stepping on his cigarette bud. A part of him, the worst half, was anxiously waiting for you to refuse him, to dump him right then and there, and go back to serving those smug bastards, but the rest of him argued you wouldn’t.

He’d chosen you, because you were different—because your soul spoke to his, your body had reacted to his touch instinctively. The loneliness in his heart cognized yours, sought it out. You had to have felt it.

Either way, it was too late, now. He was in too deep. If you didn’t feel the same, he would have to make you. Whatever it took.

“Come out,” Hyunjin called out to the paparazzo. “You have what you fucking need, come out.”

“Hyunjin—” You weren’t sure picking a fight with the guy would do any good, but—

“Quiet,” he cut you off sharply.

Your knees buckled. No one had ever spoken to you with such assumed authority. Tears sprang forward, anger radiating through you. He reprimanded you, like a child.

And yet you made no move to leave him behind. Why were you so unable to rebel against him? You knew seemingly nothing about this man, you could leave now, and never have to deal with any of this.

You didn’t budge an inch.

The guy hesitantly proceeded to show himself to Hyunjin. He looked to be in his late twenties, carrying a big camera, a hat covering most his features.

“I’m not looking for trouble, man, just doing my job here.”

Hyunjin tilted his head, musing over the words, his gaze turning deadly.

“Delete those,” he ordered, stance appearing casual, pushing off the wall, walking towards the worried man.

“Come on, man, you know how much these photos could go for—”

You didn’t see it coming, if you were being completely honest. Hyunjin didn’t look like the kind of person who’d get violent, but—

His long fingers wrapped around the poor guy’s neck, a menacing silence choking the air, making it hard to breathe. You didn’t know if you should run to go get help, or if you should look the other way.

You understood why he was doing this, but it was getting too far. The paparazzo made a gurgling sound, wheezing out half words, begging to be let go. Hyunjin released him—only to grab him by the shoulder, and punch him in the stomach. The man doubled over, coughing.

You were terrified. What was this 180? Why weren’t you doing anything?

“I assume you heard me the first time,” Hyunjin asserted. “Now, I’m scaring my girl, so why aren’t we cutting this short?”

It took a couple seconds for the person to calm down, but as soon as he did, he took ahold of his camera and deleted everything, confirming he did, shaking violently.

Hyunjin nodded, smiling a cold, smug smile. “Thank you. I’d appreciate if you kept this between us.”

All but running, the man disappeared around the corner, leaving you alone with the monster.

My girl. Why was your heart beating so fast from those two words?

“Where were we, sweetheart?” Hyunjin turned and smiled warmly at you. “I apologize, I’m not usually like this.”

You had whiplash from his bipolar behavior. You needed a drink, you needed space.

You never stopped once wanting him.

“Why’d you do that? It was only a few pictures… you almost choked him to death.”

He perked at the word, chuckling at you. He licked his lips, and leaned down, face to face with you, hands in his pockets once again.

“Being seen with me… you know what it would to to you? You’d run from me. I’m protecting you against what I am, angel.”

Of course, you’d been so naive—the fans. The death threats, the gossip, the media would eat the band alive. They were barely recovering from a previous scandal, you didn’t want to add to the burden.

But it would happen, someday, wouldn’t it? Secrets always come out.

And what would happen to you? You’d be fully consumed, thrown aside. Just the thought of it, made your blood go cold. You wouldn’t survive that, you were sure.

“Go back inside,” he petted your head. “I see you’ve had enough for today.”

Your eyes snapped to his. So soon? “When will I see you again?”

He kissed you, then. Hand resting on your cheek, his tongue invading your mouth. It made you dizzy, this kiss. It was so tender, so passionate. You couldn’t believe you could feel so much for a person, in such a short time.

And for him to feel it back. You could feel tears running hot, and salty. Hyunjin tasted every single one.

“I’ll find you, baby. You’re mine, are you not?”

And you were. So completely, so entirely.

He smiled, knowingly. Sweet girl. Ready to give it all up.

For someone like him.

#hyunjin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #ficscafe #hyunjin #stray kids #skz #skz scenarios #skz smut #kpop scenarios #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #mine.

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vallyofshimmeringstars · 2 years

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Part 6(9)

Tw: Manipulation/puke/cursing/ adult content read at your own risk

Spoilers: Michael and Lilith

Notes: hehe~

Part1 part 2 part3 part4 part5

Under the Blanket

Lucifer Sighed as he rubbed his head. “Do you have any idea What Michael said?” Diavolo shook his head. “No, but from what I know about him.” He paused curling his lips in. “It will be up to mammon” Diavolo looked at Lucifer. Lucifer rubbed the bridge of his nose taking in a deep breath. “Let’s hope whatever Mammon does isn’t stupid.” Lucifer groaned as Diavolo opened the door to his office. “You think Mammon is dumb?” He already knew this was a Rhetorical question but, he was curious. Especially how all of his brothers treated mammon. “No” Lucifer was quickly to reply. “He’s actually very smart. He impresses me every day, if I’m ever gone then I have him to trust. He knows everyone like the back of his hand and I can tell that he loves them all so much. But sometimes I don’t even know, that he knows that. I’m proud I him Diavolo I really am but everyone changed when we fell. But with mammon, he never changed on the outside at least.” Lucifer looked at his hands as he spoke, trialing the stitches on his gloves with his thumb. “You really care about him Dont you?” Diavolo smiled as he sat at his desk sitting back. Though Lucifer didn’t respond. Of course Lucifer did but it was hard for him to answer. “He’s..something, I love him more then anyone else.” He was quick to reply as the room got heavy between them. “I wonder how Michael is doing” Lucifer muttered under his breath. The room was quiet as a slight knock was heard on the door as Barbatos opened the door. “Lord, I have some news”

Michael stood in front of Mammon who’s head stayed low. “So, what do you say” Michael smirked as Mammon shifted in his seat. “So, I get to have Lilith back..” Michael nodded slowly “of course mammon, why wouldn’t you want this. Isn’t Lilith the whole reason you fell? Now you can make it up.” The grin on his face grew wider getting onto his knees making eye contact with him. “What’s the strings attached to this” Mammon demanded as Michael moved back awfully shocked. “Mammon! Why would you ever accuse me of such a thing!?” Michael got up the grin he once has was gone. “Aren’t you smart.” Michael gritted his teeth. “Do you not trust me anymore mammon! What have I done to hurt you! Am I such a bad angel to you!?” Michael raised his voice as Mammon sunk into his sink. “What is it then Mammon!” He stood their as the room was quiet. Mammon softly sputtered out a soft sorry tears forming in his eyes. Michael shook his head as he hugged mammon. “No, I’m sorry for getting mad, You have changed a lot, you were my little mammon” Michael softly spoke into his ear. Mammon wrapped his arms around him as the warm tears ran down his face as he sobbed into him. “Hush mammon, a good angel doesn’t cry” Michael cooed. “I’ll give you the rest of the day to think about this. Alright?” Michael ran his fingers through the Demons hair calming him down. “My poor angel” Michael got up as he helped mammon onto his feet as he wrapped his arm around his waist walking him out of the room and down the Marble flooring and white walls with the setting sun glossing down onto the marble through the golden curtains that gently danced in the wind as the wind blew in warm air. The sounds of their steps filled the empty hall. “Don’t you Remember this? Every night after my work I saw you from down the hall running to me, oh how I miss those days.” Michael smiled staring into the memories. “Don’t you remember?” He turned his head to Mammon the grip on his waist tightened as he pulled him close. Mammon softly nodded as he softly chuckled under his breath. “You would always have to fixed my robe..” They both softly laughed as they shared memories between them. They soon approached a smooth wooden door like any other with a golden marks and knob. Michael opened the door slowly to show a somewhat empty room. A king sized bed with golden and red blankets and sheets and blankets worn hints of gold and the Wooden floors that shimmer in the sun with the same golden curtains with paintings hung up. “Why did you bring me here?” Mammon asked. “This will be your room for tonight, I’ll see you at dinner” Michael quickly left the room leaving Mammon in the room alone.

Mammon looked around the room the old memories started to flood his mind. This was his old room, of course it changed sense the fall but the room was just as heavenly as he remembered as he fell back first onto the bed starring at the ceiling counting the small stars, something that he did every night when he couldn’t sleep as he heard the crickets chirp with the moon flooding into the room. He loved those moments, and how he missed them. He closed his eyes. His mind was empty when the sudden thought came into his head as he stumbled onto his feet then onto his knees as he patted the wooden floors for the loose floor board. The floor creaked as he lifted up the false board revealing a small hole with a small box inside of it. He grabbed the multicolored box brining it up to his knees. It was still there, the box, his heart was pounding as he slid the top of the box off revealing a small picture. The picture was wrinkled and yellowed with age. How long has it been when he held the photo up to the light revealing the brothers and a woman around their age. His mind became blank once more as his thumb glided around the photo as he muttered to himself. “I already know what the strings are to this dumb deal..hah, you guys really are going to think I’m the scummy demon. I’m doin this for you though.” mammon continued to mumble to himself as his eyes became glossy with tears as he quickly wiped them away softly laughing. “I would do this all over again, I love you all” Mammon smiled as he put the picture away into the box then back into the hole. Covering it with the false board. He stayed on his knees then slowly got up back to his bed falling face first into the pillows. It was warm, his whole body was warm. His mind was clear as he focused on his light breathing. When was it the last time he felt like this? His body grew heavy on the bed as it sunk in. He heard footsteps leading up to his door then a small knock which made mammon shoot his head up as the door open to reveal the angel he saw earlier. “Oh, it’s you” Mammon looked at her as she didn’t say anything but gave a small smile. Mammon got the hint as he got up as she lead him to the grand dining room.

The dining room had a long beautiful table in the middle as it was filled with food and empty chairs. Exquisite wines and juices and all sorts of Celestial food and golden plates. He looked up and down the chairs to see Michael in the very end as the angel lead him to the other end of the table. Mammon sat down as the angel quickly left leaving the two of them their. “So Mammon, have you thought about it?” He gently grabbed the food from the plates bringing them to his own as mammon stayed still. “Yeah, I have actually” Mammon gripped onto his clothes as he took a deep breath. Michael looked at him “Well what is it then” He demanded. Mammon opened his mouth, then slowly closing it gritting his teeth. “I’ll do it, for Lilith.” He spoke loudly as Michael stopped. Then getting up slamming his silverware on table. Mammon jumped as he sank into his chair. Why was he mad!? His mind raced as he was greeted with the guards grabbing his arms dragging him out the chair. “Huh!? The hell you guys think your doin huh!?” Mammon struggled in their arms as they pushed him onto his knees as he shouted and squirmed. Michael came over to him as he looked down at him, his eyes glowed as he looked at him. “I’m glad you made this decision.” He smiled as he got a small glass filled with a clear liquid. “Do you know what this is mammon?” Michael teased as he grabbed his chin using his thumb to pull his lip down as Mammon opened his mouth. Mammon didn’t answer as they both knew the answer to what the liquid was. It didn’t have a name but it was made by god himself, lets say it was able to change the worst demons to the most obedient angels. Holy water you can say. Michael pored the liquid down his throat as Mammon gagged taking all of it the guards keeping his face in place until every last drop was out the bottle. The guards let go of his head as mammon hung his head low quite panting loudly. Michael sat down as he ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s going to hurt but you’re my brave angel Mammon. After this we can go get Lilith.” Mammon tried to keep the liquid down in his stomach as he gagged and panted as his body became weak drool running down his face as his heart pounding. Michael reassured him as he felt his stomach turn before puking thick black substances. His body shook as he continued to cough up more his arms trembling. Once he was done his body collapsed as it was caught by Michael. He Laid him on his lap as he gently hushed him.

Diavolo got up from his desk as he walked over to Barbatos who waited for him at the door. “Excuse me Lucifer I will be back shortly” As he left as Barbatos followed behind closing the door slowly. “What is this about, what have you found out” Diavolo almost demanded as Barbatos held his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry m’lord but I couldn’t help myself but Go to the future.” He apologized as Diavolo walked down the hall as he sighed. “I was going to ask you after the meeting with Lucifer, with Michael in charge of the celestial realm it has also got me concerned. So what did you find out” Barbatos stoped walking as he sighed. “I can’t expose much for it was..blurry. All i can remember is that it has to do with Lilith.” Diavolo looked back at him as his voice lowered. “Lilith? Isn’t she dead?” Barbatos nodded as he looked at the black tile. “Have you forgotten? Angels are gods children. Michael is almost as strong as he is, he’s a archangel after all.” Diavolo stormed over to Barbatos as he stood over him. “What are you trying to say” He yelled as Barbatos could only keep the same face. “Archangels can revive any human, especially a angel.” He spoke softly as he watched the Prince storm down the hall. “So he used Lilith as a scapegoat for Mammon. Why.” His mind raced as Barbatos followed along. “Probably because he is still a archangel. If Michael never left mammon then their was no doubt that Mammon would be the strongest in the heavens. Why he wants him? I have no idea sir” Barbatos admits as they got to the office door. “What are you going to say to Lucifer?” Barbatos grabs the door knob as Diavolo took a deep breath. “I’ll tell him everything, it’s his brother and sister after all.” Barbatos nodded to his response as he opened the door for the prince as he walked in going back to his desk that sat Lucifer immediately getting up from his desk. “Lucifer, I need you to sit down” Lucifer sat at his desk as Diavolo sat down as well. “So what is it.” Lucifer spoke up. Diavolo told him about the situation as slowly and clearly as possible but nothing could make him feel better them then frozen Lucifer in his seat.

“Michael” That’s all could Lucifer say. His eyes were glossy as his whole pride was shattered into bits, All Diavolo saw was a single tear run down his cheek. “He’s using Mammon for what..?” Lucifer spoke softly as Diavolo heart ached. “I don’t know exactly” he spoke calmly his voice quiet and softly. “And Lilith..” Lucifer mumbled as. He stood up as he banged his fist on the desk. “Fuck!” Lucifer yelled as he snarled. “Why can’t you do anything about this! Huh Diavolo! Your demon prince why didn’t do anything if you know everything! Explain that to me Diavolo!” Lucifer yelled as Diavolo was astounded that he talked back to him like this. But he had every right to. “Lucifer I can’t do anything. I only know because I’m the prince. I have to know something about the rulers.” Diavolo got up slowly as he was going to place his hand on Lucifer shoulder he slapped his hand away. “Lets not forget Diavolo. He is my brother I’m nit letting shit happen to him.” Diavolo moved his hand back as he was rushed to reply. “You can’t do anything now Lucifer” Lucifer stayed still. His breathing hitched as if someone punched him in the stomach. “What” was all Lucifer could say.

………………………..Tag list………………………

@mackerelchuuya

………………………………………………………………………

#obey me #lucifer #mammon obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #mammon #lucifer obey me #obey me mammon #mammon angst #michael #obey me lucifer #Lucifer angst #angst obey me #obey me angst #shall we date diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo #om! lucifer #angst

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ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen · 2 years

Text

I can’t stand you! Pt: 10

StilesXFem!reader

Warnings: mature language, fighting.

I feel the sun on my face. I see the shining rays coming from it. I see the field of flowers of all colors and trees. I hear the sounds of the branches cracking under my feet. Of birds chirping and the wind blowing. I smell the sweet scent the flowers give off.

But most of all, I am running. I see a mirror in my view. And my unconscious takes over. I can feel the flowers hitting my body, but my eyes are suddenly blurry. My hearing has gone out. I can still smell the scent.

Finally, I'm met with the mirror. It was gorgeous. It stood tall and proud, and was surrounded by these beautiful gold vines with detailed flowers and plants.

But as I look closer, I start to notice something - the flowers disappeared. The sweet scent gone. The field of beautiful flowers has now decayed, the sky was gray, and I hear the sounds of pained yelling. But most of all, I see the mirror was now turn to snakes. "Everyone has a bad side my dear, if you don't, are you alive?

I bolt awake, sitting in a more upright position now as I'm heavily breathing and hyperventilating. I have sweat on my face and my hands feel clammy.

But I mustn't make any sound. I remember falling asleep right after Joseph; the sound of raining and criminal minds on in the background. And I definitely remember the dream.

But nonetheless, I'm the big sister. I have to make sure Joseph knows there’s nothing wrong. Nothing at all. “Y/n?” I hear him say as he stirs awake and his eyes flutter.

I smile. Joseph was a kind kid. And I loved him. Regardless whether he was my biological brother or not. Right now, he was the only brother I had. “What’s wrong?” He slurs, his eyes now shut, but somehow he’s still awake.

I shake my head, “Nothing. Just a bad dream, that’s all.” I say. He nods his head and flips onto his side. “Hey,” I say gently, patting his side, “How about I order us pizza?” I ask him. He only nods again.

He was asleep by now. He must’ve been very tired from school today. I got up from my place on the bed, shutting the curtains in my room and tucking him in. I kissed his forehead and left his - my - room.

I walked downstairs, approaching the kitchen and picking up my phone, which I thought I left in the living room. I dialed the number to my one and only favorite pizza place, or I was about to, when suddenly the doorbell rang.

“I swear to god if this isn’t Rosalie coming home...” I mutter under my breath. As soon as I see the front door I stop, hearing the muttering voices coming from the outside. I step quietly and carefully, trying to eavesdrop on whoever is outside my door.

“We couldn’t find her. I’m just saying, this is the least you could do after scaring her away. I’d be surprised if she’d ever talk to me again!” I heard a certain Stiles Stilinski’s voice. “I still think she’s suspicious.” I heard Lydia’s voice say, rolling my eyes.

Are they really this dumb that they don’t know I can literally hear them?

I make my way closer to the door, finally mucking up the courage to just open the door and straight up lie to my old friends. “Can I help you?” I asked, pretending I just woke up when technically I did.

“O-oh h-hi y/n.” Stiles stuttered, making me smile. “Hello Stiles. And Stiles’ friends.” I said, acknowledging the others that were there. We all just stood there for a good minute or two before a small voice came from behind me.

“Y/n?” I heard Joseph ask. I turn around and smile at him, seeing that he finally woke up. “Well, good morning Joseph.” I did in a mocking voice to make him smile. I turned back around to see the shocked faces on my friends.

“This is Joseph, my little brother. Joseph,” I reached my hand at to him to signal him to come here, which he did. “This is Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Scott. And they must be missing Isaac today?” I noted.

Joseph was being socially awkward, much like I am, so he decided to hide behind me and peek just a bit to wave his hand. “Hi.” He muttered softly. Joseph was starting a new school as well. So it was all a bit different for him. He never mentioned anything about new friends.

And he never really talked about school. And when I was younger, it meant that I was getting bullied. Maybe his situation’s different, and if it is, I’m proud of him. But I want him to be able to come to me if he has problems like these at school. Joseph was always the shy type at first. But when you got to know him, he was fairly different.

He was loud, and opinionated. And much like me.

So you can see why he’s like this around other people my age.

“Well, hi there Joseph.” I heard Scott say as he leans down to his height. “My name is Scott, although, I guess I didn’t need to introduce myself, huh?”

Joseph giggled. “No silly,” I heard him say, “My sister already did that for you.”

“Well then, I guess I’m just awkward, huh?” He acted like he was shy but, Scott wasn’t shy. “And so is Stiles. But don’t tell him I told you that.” He said whispering the last part in which case Joseph giggled again and Stiles said “Hey!”

“It’s okay, I’m awkward to!” He exclaimed, jumping from his hiding spot behind me. “Maybe you can come inside?” He said, looking up to me as I looked down to him.

“Well, I don’t know Joseph. They might be busy.” Scott cut me off, “It’s okay. We’re not really busy. If you’ll have us, of course.” I smiled and nodded, gesturing them to come inside.

I made my way towards the kitchen faster than the rest of them. I used my gift and made some snacks before any one of them could see. And just in time because I heard Joseph’s voice, louder than before, talking to all of them about his collection.

“Wow!” He said in echo of the others, “I didn’t know you were making snacks!” He said. “Yeah, well I have to! I did order pizza that’s gonna take forever to get here!”

He detached his hand from Scott’s, which I was surprised about, and ran over to give me a big hug. He hugged my legs because of how small he was but, it was okay.

“I ordered pizza if you guys want to stay. And obviously, we have plenty of snacks and drinks so... please, help yourselves.” I said to them as Joseph already began taking some.

I turned to the t.v that I didn’t even notice until now was in the kitchen and flipped it on. I looked to Joseph and looked to Scott who was already looking at me; like he was observing me or something. “I have to call Rosalie, uh, would you mind...”

He nodded to me and smiled, “Go ahead.”

I ushered a quick thank you to him before going into the other room and calling her.

One ring

two rings

three rings

Until it went through. “Rosalie!” I exclaimed. “Thank God! Where are you, why weren’t you home-”

“Hello Y/N” I heard a familiar voice come through. It shocked me to my core and made me shiver. “It can’t be...”

#stiles stilinski #scottstiles #stiles fanfiction #stilesxreader #stiles stilinksi x reader #scott mccall #magic #dylan o'brian imagine #Allison and Lydia #allison argent #Melissa McCall

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sodamnradd · 2 years

Text

PART VI - Repeat | AO3 | FFN | Wattpad

Slytherin Hermione, No Voldemort-AU, Slow burn Dramione, Hogwarts years 1-7 and beyond...

“What’s that?” shouted Draco from across the table, his eyes pinned on me. I never used to get mail, so I suppose it was only natural to notice when I did—that was if someone was paying attention to me, and I came to learn that Draco was always paying attention, especially after the Buckbeak incident.

“Let’s see!” In a flash of movement, Pansy stretched over Daphne and ripped the paper from my grip. “UK children rescued from religious cult,” she read out loud, snorting. “Muggles are freaky.”

“Outright evil,” agreed Draco, taking the paper from her and holding the cover over his face. “Kidnap and sex abuse claims? Are you proud of yourselves?”

“Are you proud of all the Dark Wizards your father associates with?” I snapped back, swishing and flicking my wand so that the paper levitated out of his reach, then I plucked it out of the air and stashed it at the very bottom of my bag, curtaining my face with my hair so they wouldn’t see how red I’d become.

I could finally enjoy meals in peace without everyone being irritated that I was at the table. I did not need The Times to revert all the progress I’d made by bleakly reminding them of my utter Muggle-ness.

“At least my people aren’t disgusting,” he retorted. “Muggles and their filthy news. Ugh, look! It turned my fingers black.”

“Nobody asked you to touch it,” I replied. “You’re the one harbouring an obsession with people you claim to hate.”

“You’re delusional, Granger. Or just a pathological liar. What was it that your mother asked at the bookshop? If I was one of your school friends?” He laughed, an evil, despicable laugh. “What friends?” He looked around the table, waiting for someone to speak up. When nobody did, his grin grew wider. “Embarrassed to tell your prissy Mum that you’re a total loser?”

“Don’t talk about my mother!” I threw my bag over my shoulder and jumped over the bench, more furious than humiliated. “Watch your back, Malfoy. You’re making an enemy out of the wrong girl.”

“Am I?” He turned around in his seat as I walked past him, his eyes twinkling with evil mischief. “What are you going to do? Make me vomit slugs? Or maybe try to cop another feel? Didn’t get enough in the fat oaf’s class last week?”

I couldn’t help it. The goblet was right there, sitting on the edge of the table, screaming to be unleashed on Malfoy’s trousers. I whacked it with the back of my hand. Pumpkin juice splashed everywhere, staining his shirt orange, and forming a fat spot between his legs to make it look like he wet himself. Not the most inspired of moves, but it was all I could manage on short notice.

“You bitch!”

I flashed him the middle finger and stormed out of the Great Hall.

#sodamnrad #ecdysis #dhr #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione fanfic #draco x hermione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #draco and hermione #hermione x draco #hermione and draco #sodamnradfics

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acerola-assignment · 3 years

Photo

Halloween is my favorite holiday, so I decided to try doing something seasonally appropriate. Here’s Possessor, from Creepy Castle! The game rarely lives up to its name, but most of the actually unsettling moments can certainly be attributed to this guy.

Seems he’s ensnared a lost little moth to do his bidding. Poor guy. But maybe you should watch out to not end up worse.

#halloween #fanart #creepy castle #moth #possessor #pixel art #maybe I ought to hold back on the dithering #oh well #I am at least very proud of how the curtains turned out #posts

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lebenspurpur · 2 years

Text

AN: Helloo, I am not dead!! :3

Pairing: Vincent Sinclair x reader

Summary: You enjoy the domestic life with the boys.

Warnings: None, I think, I didn't proof read this, and it's also bad.

Wordcount: 1278 words

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

40s music echoes through the small cinema, happy swing that you can just imagine your grandparents dancing to. It's a bizarre contrast to the corpses, the people encased in wax. Their happy expressions would never be able to showcase the pain they felt during their last few moments.

The latest one is a man. He's tall, taller than you anyway, with dark hair and soft eyes that would melt any person's heart. Well, not anymore you guess.

You and Vincent always called him Jake during his creation process. Not only did he look a typical Jake, he also had the demeanour of a Jake. With that you mean, he played football, he liked to go on frat parties, and he thought hugging his friends was gay. Being gay was the biggest sin ever, at least to him.

Vincent had fun with him anyway. He was ecstatic during the work process, only really leaving the workshop to pass out for a few hours of sleep and then gulp down a can of coffee and an entire pound of grapes.

You helped him carry Jake up to the cinema. Not that he needed help, but you always like to watch him place the latest tourists. He always looks so proud, like a dad sending their kid to school. It was nice seeing Vincent happy and somewhat confident for once.

Right now you're watching your tall lover fret over a small scratch in the wax. It's adorable, seeing him fuss over his art. Vincent is always so focused, so caring when it comes to his work. It's inspiring to see how much work he puts into what he does.

He fixed the scratch already, and is now walking backwards, hands extended to immediately save his new baby, should it randomly fall.

It looks slightly amusing and you giggle at his concentrated expression. Hearing the sound, Vincen turns around. Thanks to the "Phantom of the opera" kind of half-face-mask you made him wear, you can see the proud but exhausted smile on his face and man, it fills you with pure excitement.

'I think he's gonna do well here.', he signs as he walks closer, fingers shaking a bit due to the excitement of another long project finished.

"He looks great!", you compliment, "He fits very well to Lizzy."

You point to another statue, this time a young woman, dressed in a pink dress that matches her pink bag, and the collar of her little dog friend. Vincent spent whole days on that dog, trying to get every single hair look good. It frustrated both, you and him, and you still remember the huge relief upon finding out he finished it.

'Yeah, and the light falls very good here, it makes him look intimidating in a way, strong, and you know, the color of the curtain matches well with the green blazer you chose, I didn't think it'd look that convincing but it's really aesthetically pleasing and-'

You can't help but grin as Vincent keeps rambling about the piece, nearly exploding with motivation and excitement. His signing is unusually rushed and shaky and you can feel him vibrate with pride as he skips over to you.

Your hand finds his arms and you lovingly squeeze the muscle as he arrives next to you.

"It looks really, really good, Vince. I'm really proud of you, if that means anything."

Apparently it does. Vincent grins, it's so bright it nearly blinds you. Man, you can't describe how happy that makes you.

He turns around a last time, eye shining with seldom seen pride before he absentmindedly takes your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

"How 'bout a snack, hm?", you ask, knowing that if you stay here any longer, you'll never get away.

He nods, you know he hasn't paid attention to a word you just said, and you tenderly drag him out of the room, step by step.

It takes a few seconds but soon, he realises what you want and chuckles while gripping your hand tighter.

You nozzle closer into his side while your steps boom through the echoey space of the foyer.

"I'm really glad it turned out this good. You know how much I love it when you allow yourself to be proud.", you mention, eyes watching him cautiously.

Vincent's eye finds yours and he nods, adoration visible in the azure. You know he'd like to sign an answer but one of his hands is captured by yours, so he settles with another sweet squeeze of your fingers.

It's silent while you walk up to the house, there's no need for words. Vincent's still astonished about the success of his latest accomplishment, and you're busy admiring his concentrated expression, framed by a few silken black strands of hair that escaped his hair-tie. The usual.

The door is open when you arrive, you can hear Bo's radio running inside. It makes Vincent chuckle next to you, before he leaves your side, most likely to tell his twin about his latest success.

Smiling, you close the door with a thud. Last week, Bo threw a tantrum and threw it shut and ever since, it doesn't close properly. A damn shame. Especially because you know no one is ever going to fix it.

Shrugging your thin jacket off, you make your way to the kitchen. You're greeted with the sight of Vincent excitedly signing to his twin, and Bo looking rather disinterested inside his beer can.

Grinning, you greet him, and his expression changes to a surprised one before he sends a genuine smile your way. A year ago, that would've been a reason to celebrate. You're really glad Bo has decided to warm up to you.

"Boys..?", Vincent's signing halts and he sends an angry pout your way. Trying not to laugh, you raise your hands in an apology, "You can continue in a second Vinny, is pasta alright with the two of you?"

Vincent just nods and shakes his hand in your direction - a dismissal.

Chuckling, you start working on the food, soon the twins across of you are forgotten as your mind wanders off... - and comes back just as fast when two icy hands slide beneath your shirt.

Gasping loudly, you turn around and are faced with a shit-eating grin.

"Vincent, I swear to god.", you lightly slap him with the towel in your hand, "One day I will accidentally stab you."

Vincent just laughs your statement off and retreats to lift himself onto the counter.

The two of you are interrupted by Lester, who is now home too, and excitedly skips over to press a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"Honey, I'm home!", he grins and lifts the lid of the pot on the stove, a aromatic smell immediately fills the small kitchen, "Naw, sweet cheeks, ya didn't have to cook. You're treatin' me like a god, sugar."

"Welcome home, Les.", you grin at the younger brother while Vincent rolls his eyes theatrically, "Care to put some plates on the table?"

"Anythin' for you, sweetiepie.", he winks and skips out of the room while you chuckle at his adorable behaviour.

A few minute later, the boys are all seated, and all eyes shift to you, carrying the pot inside and setting it down on the table.

"Here ya go, boys..", you shrug off the oven gloves and thankful smiles are sent your way as the brothers dig in.

While they eat, you look around, letting your gaze wander over the men you started calling family. A familiar warm feeling of nostalgia and gratefulness bubbles in your stomach and you can't help but grin.

You feel home.

#house of wax #house of wax fanfiction #bo #sinclair #Lester sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent #slasher x reader #lebenspurpur talks but in the clinic #slasher fanfiction #comfort #hurt/comfort #vincent x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair imagine #slashers

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edenmemes · 3 years

Text

skyward sword sentence starters

more to be added !

❝ you promised to meet me before it starts, remember? ❞ ❝ you seem pretty...relaxed about the whole thing. ❞ ❝ is something wrong? what’s the hurry? ❞ ❝ sometimes i just don’t know what’s going on in your head. ❞ ❝ i'm not like you. i fail at everything i try. ❞ ❝ a shrimpy boy like you hardly looks the part of a hero. ❞ ❝ swatting a few monsters will be no trouble for you. ❞ ❝ run and play this time. get in my way again, though, and you’re dead. ❞ ❝ don’t even pretend that was an accident! ❞ ❝ do you doubt these eyes? i look upon your shirt and i see a single thread loose on your sleeve stitching. ❞ ❝ this is no place for one such as you. and yet here you stand. ❞ ❝ i need to vent all this unhealthy anger, and your agony is such a great stress reliever. ❞ ❝ remember what we discussed. restrain yourself. focus on the task at hand. ❞ ❝ do my words anger you? do my words sting? let them. ❞ ❝ you don’t come by here just to see me, do you? ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? you just made a face like you wanted to say something. ❞ ❝ oh, i get it. you’re trying to weasel out of having to practice. ❞ ❝ i guess it’s not all bad. at least i’m getting paid. ❞ ❝ there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about.... ❞ ❝ would you wake up, straighten up, and grow a backbone already? ❞ ❝ nice try, but you’re not fooling me. ❞ ❝ i...i have to go. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ folks were always cheering me on like it was a parade. but as you know, time passes. ❞ ❝ you keep some very strange company, friend. ❞ ❝ i don’t know if it’s safe yet...i’m going to stay here awhile longer. ❞ ❝ oh no. you’ve done it now! there’s no escaping this one! ❞ ❝ so, what now? are you going to cry? ❞ ❝ i can’t begin to tell you how sorry i am for pulling you into all of this. ❞ ❝ what is wrong with you? just look at what you’ve done! ❞ ❝ what we’ve seen here today defies explanation. ❞ ❝ you put up more of a fight than i would have thought possible out of such a soft person. ❞ ❝ did you really just draw your sword? foolish. ❞ ❝ should you heed the call of destiny, i don’t know what dangers you may have to face. ❞ ❝ i can’t help being such a coward...i’m really sorry. ❞ ❝ i fear i spent far too long teasing and toying with you. ❞ ❝ you do your people proud. ❞ ❝ how long do we have to live in constant fear? ❞ ❝ i'll just beat you within an inch of your life! ❞ ❝ dawn is drawing near. it has been a long night for the both of us, hasn’t it? ❞ ❝ you were limp and unconscious. i feared the worst. ❞ ❝ what do you think you’re doing sneaking out with that? ❞ ❝ such a beautiful day, but we’re too busy to enjoy it. some things never change. ❞ ❝ i guess you’ll never learn unless you run into trouble one day. ❞ ❝ look at my face. if that’s your idea of a joke, i’m not laughing. ❞ ❝ you appeared to be relishing that snooze, so i declined to wake you. ❞ ❝ huh? oh, uh, nothing. really, i was, uh...talking to myself. ❞ ❝ you’re looking a little pale... ❞ ❝ i imagine you and i will cross paths again. until then, do not lower your guard. ❞ ❝ you certainly are persistent... ❞ ❝ all that may be well intentioned and true, but it doesn’t mean it’s right. ❞ ❝ i’m prepared to pay the price for what i’ve done. ❞ ❝ i had no idea we were fated to carry such a heavy destiny. ❞ ❝ i need your strength to tip the scales in our favor. ❞ ❝ all this training, and no results! ❞ ❝ all i’ve hears so far is a bunch of babbling about destiny, but that’s a load of garbage. ❞ ❝ when night draws her tenebrous curtain across the sky, i come here. ❞ ❝ what in the world just happened? did you use some kind of magic? ❞ ❝ please, see it through and prove the legends true. ❞ ❝ i was happy just spending my days hanging around with you. i wanted that feeling to last forever. ❞ ❝ you are vital to a mission of great importance. ❞ ❝ the chances of that happening are just about less than zero. ❞ ❝ i hate to break it to you, but today’s the day i bust up this adorable little fantasyland you’re living in. ❞ ❝ this is a war, and the fate of the land hangs in the balance. ❞ ❝ i know you, and you’re no hero. ❞ ❝ you’re messing with me. say it again, i dare you. ❞ ❝ you float through life with your head in the clouds. ❞ ❝ i don’t do charity for wimps. ❞ ❝ what’s this...? what is it that my eyes behold? ❞ ❝ don’t even think about it! are we clear? ❞ ❝ the point is your work here is done. i got it covered from here. ❞ ❝ my eyes foresee a hazardous, thorny road ahead for you... ❞ ❝ you...this is your fault, you know. ❞ ❝ my heart is bursting with thoughts of you. ❞ ❝ i have a serious dilemma on my mind right now, and you’re distracting me. ❞ ❝ i’ll make you proud. you’ll see! ❞ ❝ feels dangerous. something could jump out at us at any moment. ❞ ❝ we’re talking about a tale that’s been passed down over a lot of years, so i wouldn’t put much stock in it. ❞ ❝ i have the right to experience an unfettered and passionate love, don’t i? ❞ ❝ i’ll tell you, it gives even a big guy like me the creeps. ❞ ❝ oh...how can i get you to notice me? ❞ ❝ i get the feeling nothing i can say will talk you out of it. ❞ ❝ my love for you is wider than the horizon and deeper than the clouds. ❞ ❝ trust my piercing eyes...listen to my pure and innocent voice. ❞ ❝ i feel so excited, so cheerful, so full of life. ❞ ❝ i sense a silent power dwelling somewhere in your frame. ❞ ❝ this turn of events has left me with a strong appetite for bloodshed. ❞ ❝ there’s no doubting it. the gears of fate have begun to turn. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry. i was lost in thought there for a moment. ❞ ❝ don’t men open doors for a lady anymore? how long am i supposed to stand here waiting for a little chivalry? ❞ ❝ i hate even saying this, but i guess you got it all figured out. ❞ ❝ you must not push yourself. you’re still recovering. ❞ ❝ you think you’re pretty suave, don’t you? ❞ ❝ i know you’re in a hurry, so i really appreciate you taking the time to help. ❞ ❝ i saw it, but i was able to escape by the seat of my pants. ❞ ❝ do you have any idea how that made me feel inside? furious! outraged! sick with anger! ❞ ❝ you’re really something else. i could never imagine myself doing what you’re about to do. ❞ ❝ i must aid you in fulfilling the great destiny that is your burden to carry. ❞ ❝ i should have believed you...i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ lately, when i think about you, my head gets all fuzzy, my heart races, i get short of breath, and i feel all dizzy... ❞ ❝ you should know better than that to fret about me. ❞ ❝ thanks for jumping in there to rescue me. ❞ ❝ hey, hold on there! what are you trying to pull all of a sudden? ❞ ❝ your face cries out in earnest wonder, and that cry is: ‘what’s this?!’ ❞ ❝ i promise up front not to murder you. ❞ ❝ you...didn’t hear any of that, did you? there’s no way you heard, right? ❞ ❝ i tell you, all sorts of weird things are going on lately. ❞ ❝ calamitous visions appear before me... ❞ ❝ you...make me so happy...i think i’m going to keel over... ❞ ❝ i wanted you to be the first to see me like this. ❞ ❝ i can’t imagine a more fitting color for you. it’s as though you were born to wear it. ❞ ❝ i bet you can’t even decide what to have for lunch on your own, huh? ❞ ❝ amazing, right? wrong! it is beyond amazing! ❞ ❝ it can’t be easy for you, can it? ❞ ❝ you’ll see in time that you have your own role to play in all this. ❞ ❝ trust in fate to guide your feet. ❞ ❝ i bet you’re here just to check me out, right? ❞ ❝ i just hope nothing has happened. i’m worried sick thinking about it. ❞ ❝ whoa...you’re kind of imploding my mind right now. ❞ ❝ if you wanna live again one day, you should head for home. ❞ ❝ you have a great journey before you, and those clothes...they don’t look up to the task. ❞ ❝ did you manage to get even a wink of sleep last night? ❞ ❝ ever heard of banging your knuckles against the door? it’s called knocking. ❞ ❝ so, uh...yeah. just how long have you been standing there? ❞ ❝ honestly, it’s almost as though you become a completely different person when you worry about me. ❞ ❝ you showing up here must mean we’re connected somehow. like fate. ❞ ❝ sorry to put you through that. i guess i owe you one now. ❞ ❝ to tell you the truth, i’m feeling a little frustrated, and right now i just need someone to vent to. ❞ ❝ what’s with you? leave me alone if you don’t want anything. ❞ ❝ hearing that is such a...huge weight off my mind. ❞ ❝ though your journey will put you in harms way, you must endure. ❞ ❝ i'm just deadweight. what kinda use is that to anyone... ❞ ❝ seriously, what is that thing over there?! ❞ ❝ before i say another word, i feel like i owe you an apology. ❞ ❝ during your long journey, you’ve grown so much. ❞ ❝ from the moment i laid my eyes on you, i could tell you had a gentle and generous heart. ❞ ❝ oh dear...i don’t know what’s come over me all of a sudden... ❞ ❝ you don’t appear to have any serious injuries. for that much we can be grateful. ❞ ❝ i can see into those dopey eyes of yours. ❞ ❝ i can finally smile and laugh again! thank you ever so much. ❞ ❝ i think i might of broke something. ❞ ❝ is that it? i thought it was going to put up more of a fight. ❞ ❝ i thought we were goners this time. sort of glad i was wrong about that. ❞ ❝ what? i don’t seem like my usual self? ❞ ❝ this place needs a name. a name fitting for this rugged, adventurous wilderness. ❞ ❝ what were you thinking? you scared a year off my life! ❞ ❝ care to explain just what you meant by ‘our special moment alone’? ❞ ❝ my advice? work hard and wish with all your heart. ❞ ❝ say, you look all flustered. ❞ ❝ i fear we can’t dwell on our success. ❞ ❝ the world is bursting with undiscovered surprises, isn’t it? ❞ ❝ you're not exactly mr/mrs.perfect either, are you? ❞ ❝ this is easily as scary as i thought it would be. ❞ ❝ i swear this neighborhood’s getting crummier every day. ❞ ❝ you ain’t as dumb as you look. ❞ ❝ i was going to ask if you wanted me to take care of you forever... ❞ ❝ i need to learn how to keep these delirious dreams in check. ❞ ❝ maybe you should forget about everything that happened here tonight. ❞ ❝ can you imagine a more gruesome fate? ❞ ❝ there are more monsters about than before, so be careful. ❞ ❝ human desire is an insatiable, fearsome thing. ❞ ❝ i sense an evil presence on the other side of this door. ❞ ❝ you understand, don’t you? i’m not wrong about this, am i? ❞ ❝ i never wanted to lay eyes on you again. ❞ ❝ i would have gotten discouraged if you hadn’t come by to cheer me on. you gave me motivation. ❞ ❝ who do you think you are, getting involved in my business like that? ❞ ❝ i just wish there was more i could do for you... ❞ ❝ i don’t even understand how you could make such a wild accusation! ❞ ❝ it was at that moment i finally realized. i realized that...i love you. ❞ ❝ make sure you come home every now and then. nothing like a good sleep in your own bed. ❞ ❝ you’d better not keep me waiting. ❞ ❝ make sure you put your heart into it! i won’t stand for anything but your best. ❞ ❝ how could you be swayed by the temptation of material gain? do you have no honor? ❞ ❝ you really want to hear about all my troubles? that’s kind of you. ❞ ❝ you...weren’t supposed to see that whole spectacle. how embarrassing... ❞ ❝ you have only succeeded in buying us a little more time. ❞ ❝ watch it! that’s no way to talk to someone who just saved your life! ❞ ❝ you look like you need to get something off your chest. ❞ ❝ know that all the questions you have now will be answered in time. ❞ ❝ there is nothing natural about these tremors. ❞ ❝ you might just be the person i need! you seem pretty good with the ladies. ❞ ❝ it’s great to hear you’re so confident in me. ❞ ❝ ideal love is unfettered and passionate. anything less than that can’t really be called love at all. ❞ ❝ you're incessant buzzing around my head like some irksome gadfly when i’m this busy is...making me very disagreeable. ❞ ❝ you may not have noticed, but i’m trying to hide here. could you please scoot along? ❞ ❝ you'd better keep your eyes to yourself, if you know what i mean. ❞ ❝ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❞ ❝ you...you came to see me! i’m so happy. ❞ ❝ your job is simple! you make sure none of these monsters lays a claw on me. not...one...claw. ❞ ❝ now is not the time to be picky about who will help you. ❞ ❝ watch carefully while i demonstrate what a real hero looks like. ❞ ❝ you are something else! there is nothing you cannot do. ❞ ❝ if you think about how often we meet, you have to admit that our relationship has gone beyond friendship, you know? ❞ ❝ i’ll make the affair so excruciating, you’ll deafen yourself with the shrill sound of your own screams. ❞ ❝ i was right, then. there is something special about you. ❞ ❝ i should have reprimanded you the last time we met, but instead i was...soft. ❞ ❝ ha-ha! you didn’t see that coming, did you? ❞ ❝ you really are a snake in the grass. ❞ ❝ you are indeed worthy of being called a hero. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to getting stared at like this. it’s making me blush. ❞ ❝ i can’t hide anything from you, can i? ❞ ❝ the longer i train, the more i realize i’ll never measure up to you. ❞ ❝ whoa...you took out every last one of them. ❞ ❝ i know how bad this must look to you right now, but i assure you i mean no harm. ❞ ❝ it’s all very strange, but i doubt there’s much of a connection between these things. ❞ ❝ you're a weird one, climbing all the way up here. ❞ ❝ don’t cry --- it’s perfectly, mostly safe! ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by that thread of fate. destined to fight. ❞ ❝ meet me in battle, and the thread of fate that binds us will be soaked crimson with your blood. ❞ ❝ i do not wish to dwell on what may have happened if you hadn’t been here. ❞ ❝ you have awakened a wrath that will burn for eons! ❞ ❝ you really like those fantasy stories, eh? ❞ ❝ there is one teensy, tiny thing i lack...namely, mercy. ❞ ❝ i must warn you, i won’t go easy on you this time. ❞ ❝ i might be willing to forgive and forget if you’ll strike a deal. ❞ ❝ since i know i can be honest with you, i’ll admit i got a little sulky. it was frowns all around. ❞ ❝ i see you’re still among the living. ❞ ❝ i saw them dragging you off unconscious, so i tailed them. ❞ ❝ i want you to visit me at my house tonight. ❞ ❝ you don’t have to say a word. i can see how you feel by the spark in your eye. ❞ ❝ you’ll see. i’ll be as tough as you in no time. ❞ ❝ it’s not like ‘oh, hey, that person’s back! i’m so happy!’ or anything like that... ❞ ❝ whoa...that’s some really terrible handwriting. ❞ ❝ i would very much like it if you would go out with me. ❞ ❝ truly? you choose me? ❞ ❝ i swear to you, whatever it takes, i will drag you into an eternity of torment. ❞ ❝ you and i, we’re bound by a thread of fate. ❞ ❝ i’ll watch over you, protecting you from afar. ❞ ❝ until then, we’ll keep our love secret. ❞ ❝ this news has just filled my heart with rainbows! ❞ ❝ this place seems strangely familiar... ❞ ❝ don’t you gotta take care of your own business first? ❞ ❝ they’re not going to do anything nice if they catch you. ❞ ❝ it’s not humane to tease someone this bored. ❞ ❝ i’m not some sideshow for you to gawk at. ❞ ❝ it’s weird to say out loud, but that’s just how i feel right now. ❞ ❝ you can’t break me with interrogation. you’ll never make me talk. ❞ ❝ word is there’s a huge treasure hidden in these here ruins... ❞ ❝ what? that’s not weird to say! ❞ ❝ ...i understand your true feelings. better than you know. ❞ ❝ all the fairytales that we heard growing up...they appear all too real. ❞ ❝ do i look sad? no, i’m doing what i want to do! ❞ ❝ i don’t know what came over me! i had no clue i had the talent to make something like this. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t be out here in the open with no way to defend yourself. ❞ ❝ you do have the tendency to cause trouble for those you ‘help’. ❞ ❝ as far as i’m concerned, i got nothing but time. ❞ ❝ don’t you play coy with me. i know that you know, so why not let me in on the fun? ❞ ❝ so you really think a sob story like that is going to work on me? what a joke. ❞ ❝ i’d take pleasure in punishing you, but i have no time for recreation. ❞ ❝ sorry to leave you on your own, but you look like you can handle it. ❞ ❝ remember --- it’s a secret to everybody. ❞ ❝ it isn’t as action packed as what you’re doing, but maybe this is my destiny. ❞ ❝ don’t you just love the way it smells down here? ❞ ❝ defending the land...it’s my purpose, i think. it’s why i’m here. ❞ ❝ what do i know...you might just surprise me. ❞ ❝ fibber! you’re a fibbity fibber! ❞ ❝ you needn’t even say it. i can tell from the look of sheer astonishment on your face. ❞ ❝ you have had this destiny thrust upon you without warning... or choice, for that matter. ❞ ❝ don’t do anything heroic and get yourself caught. ❞ ❝ ...you want to tell me but you can’t? ❞ ❝ you know, i really worry about you. it’s a weakness of mine. ❞ ❝ try not to get in the way of my shots, ok? ❞ ❝ i haven’t slept a wink in...ahhh...i don’t even know how long. ❞ ❝ i had my suspicions, but until now i wasn’t sure. ❞ ❝ you seem a good deal stronger than the last time we met. ❞ ❝ i would be remiss if i didn’t let you know of the weight on my heart. ❞ ❝ i have a reputation to protect, you know. ❞ ❝ listen closely. do you hear that? ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

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fanfic-scribbles · 3 years

Text

Crash Pad

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: You’re just minding your own business when the Winter Soldier crashes into your life. Literally.

Quick facts: Romance – established past Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes leading into Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of blood

Words: 7801

A/N: I started writing this a few months ago and almost finished when my life got fairly shook up. Still, I’m quite proud of being able to eke out an ending. For anybody who only cares about this story, feel free to skip this note, but for anybody following my other stuff: writing is going to be slow for the time being. My mom died and things are pretty topsy-turvy right now. Writing is still a comfort, but head to hands isn’t working the same right now. Thanks for your patience; I hope this is a pleasant read for you in the mean time <3

You’re getting ready for bed and have just turned off the living room light when you hear a clatter on the fire escape. You haven’t gotten over to shut the window yet and you wince at the thought of maybe coming face to face with a giant rat, or a raccoon, although you haven’t yet seen a raccoon and you’re pretty sure they don’t live in the city but it would probably be better than a rat the size of a raccoon–

What you get is much, much worse as a fully grown man falls through the curtains, knocks over a side table and potted plant, and crashes onto your living room floor with a wheezed (but emphatic), “God damn it!”

You freeze, unsure of whether to run or yell or maybe both. However the man flounders on the floor, unable to otherwise move much as he holds his side and– is that blood on your floor?

“Are you okay?” you ask despite everything.

He yanks his head back to look at you and grimaces. “Fuck, I–” He tries to get up, slips in what you are almost positive is blood, and slumps over with a little sigh and a handful of muttered curses that might be in another language. “I am really sorry about this,” he says lowly, like he's embarrassed to be bleeding out in a stranger’s living room. Then he shifts a little more and moonlight gleams on his arm. His very…shiny…completely metal arm, and you find a whole new way to be concerned.

You should have known the reasonable rent was a goddamn trap.

You take a few steps back, barely avoid hitting the counter, and flick the light back on without taking your eyes away from the man on your floor. He squints at the brightness and shows you a face that is, both fortunately and unfortunately, familiar. Fortunately because Captain America and the Avengers somehow got him pardoned for potential war crimes and treason even without him being present for any of that circus of a trial. Unfortunately because…war crimes. And treason. And that is definitely blood.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out and looks a little woozy. “There were sheets– I thought the building was empty.”

“The sheeting is for the building right next to us,” you say and sigh. “I’m going to guess you are not in favor of me calling an ambulance?”

He just blinks at you a few times. Maybe he is secretly a raccoon.

“Please don’t,” he says, some life returning to his eyes, and he looks you up and down. The rubber duck pajamas must put him at ease because, while he is still tensely holding his midsection, his shoulders relax a little. “I’m so–”

“Sorry, yes, I know.” You point at the bathroom. “I’m going to get the first aid kit and hopefully I won’t have to explain to the coroner’s office why Captain America’s boo bled out on my floor.”

You’re just opening up the cupboard that hopefully contains at least some band-aids when he calls out, “What the hell is a ‘boo?’”

Two old t-shirts, one and a half rolls of dusty gauze, and his own homemade stitch kit later, the man is finally all patched up. “How are you not passing out from blood loss?” you ask, eyeing the mess on the nice hardwood that has definitely just lost you your deposit. But there’s no corpse to deal with, so at least things aren’t as bad as they could be.

“I’m built pretty hardy.” He sits up a little more and groans. Before you can beg him not to split his side again, he extends his hand. “James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”

You shake his hand (gently) and tell him your name. “Do you let everybody call you Bucky, or just the people whose floor you bleed all over?” Something moving catches your eye and you sigh at the sight of your inexpensive (but still nice) curtains blowing slightly, showing off their new stains. “Floor and drapes…”

“I’ll clean it,” he says. “I can get blood out of anything.” He winces. “I…that sounds worse than it is.”

“I imagine getting blood out of anything is a good skill for an international spy-assassin to have,” you say.

Bucky scowls. And, you think, blushes a little, though how he has enough blood to do that you don’t know. You look at the spot again. It looks big to you but maybe you’re making a fuss over nothing. No, wait, there’s still dried blood on your floor. You’re allowed a fuss. “So you know who I am.”

“Your boy made it hard to miss,” you say.

He grumbles to himself, then says, “He’s always such a drama queen. I didn’t need to be pardoned.”

“Really,” you say and look at the bloodied handkerchief wrapped around a bullet he dug out of himself. “Looks like at least one other person disagrees with you.”

“This was Steve’s fight, not mine.” He huffs. “Story of my goddamn lif–”

He suddenly falls back and you reach out instinctively to catch him. He recovers quickly, wild-eyed and stiff and you scoot back just in case. He takes a few deep breaths and seems to force himself calm. It doesn’t look very effective and you’re honestly starting to worry. “You really–”

“I did not faint,” he snaps and maybe he has more blood than you thought, or maybe absolutely all of it has come to collect in his face.

“I was going to say you really need a hospital,” you say. “But yeah, you did.”

He grumbles under his breath and then, as if predicting your protests, stands up quickly enough to waver. Serves him right, you think, but when he scowls at you, you wonder if maybe he’s psychic too. “Try not to pass out on your way home,” you say, because if he wants to leave there’s really nothing you can do to stop him.

“Funny,” he says. He clears his throat and adds, much more sincerely, “Thanks.”

For the t-shirts, for the first aid kit, for not calling the cops, for not calling the Avengers so Captain America can hone in on him like a cartoon hound, for not bitching about the floor too much– the list is many and varied and so you give him a simple nod and hope you can get even a little bit of sleep tonight because work tomorrow is going to be hell without it.

He goes back to the window and before you can point out you have a perfectly good door, Bucky slips out onto the fire escape again. You shrug to yourself and go over to firmly flip the lock. You’ve done your part– in the event he slips and hits his head, someone else can be the good Samaritan. You’re going to bed and tomorrow this is going to feel like a weird dream, if there is even a single good deity in existence.

You’re not sure if it’s proof of or a mark against the existence of said single good deity when Bucky shows back up in your fire escape the next evening and taps politely against your open window before he lets himself back in, scooting your new plant just an inch out of the way.

“I have a door,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

“Your hallway’s too well lit,” he says, much more hale and hearty and obviously not suffering major blood loss. His hair even looks like he just got out of the shower, all soft and shiny and bouncing a bit as he twists his upper body to start pulling stuff out of a backpack hanging off one shoulder. “I got stuff to clean the floor, and a replacement first aid kit. You outta keep it better stocked, so I got you one of the good ones.”

“O…kay,” you say, for lack of anything better. There’s a hysterical laugh building up in the back of your throat as the Winter Soldier brings out some rags and a cleaning solution for your bloodstained hardwood floor, but you cough it out and say, “Thanks,” when the formerly-feared international assassin looks at you like you’re crazy before he gets on his hands and knees and starts scrubbing.

It’s not fair no one would believe you. You’re not quite sure this isn’t an elaborate daydream, but then, you like to think you’d imagine something more fun than this. You clear your throat. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thanks,” he grunts, glaring at the floor and rubbing at the stain like it has offended him personally. It’s a little worrisome when he goes at it hard enough to maybe rub a hole right through the floor– you’d rather deal with the stain– but there’s a hard edge to his eyes that make you think maybe it’s a good idea for him to work it out in a productive, non-violent way. And if it turns violent, hopefully he has some home repair skills to make up for it.

You busy yourself with making tea, using the nice pot and the nice cups you never get to break out, and by the time it’s almost done steeping Bucky isn’t rubbing quite so hard and, in fact, seems to have made the stain do a disappearing act.

“Nice,” you say. “You want some tea? I made plenty.”

He lifts his head and tilts it as he squints at you, like he’s still not sure of you. But he shrugs, says, “Sure,” and stands up, rolling his shoulders. He looks down at the floor and nods appreciatively before coming to sit on the other side of the counter. “It’s almost gone; just a little bit more and it’ll be like I was never here.”

That last part could have been a decent joke, but he said it so seriously you just clear your throat. “Thanks,” you say and start pouring. “My landlord is going to have to find some other excuse to try and keep my security deposit.”

Bucky snorts but otherwise makes no noise. At first it’s nice, if a bit awkward, as you don’t really feel the need to fill the silence, but it becomes clear by the way Bucky glares at the plant sitting in front of him on the counter that something is eating at him. You’re not sure whether or not to pry, but it seems polite to at least ask, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he grunts and leans even lower to the surface of the counter.

You stare at him. “I appreciate what you did, but you didn’t have to come back,” you say gently, because a pissed-off former-assassin isn’t really a problem you want to have on your hands. “I’m not awful enough to actually expect you to clean up your own blood the day after you nearly bled to death.”

“What?” He blinks and then scowls and shakes his head. “No, it’s not that; it’s…” He picks up his cup and downs all of it, despite the fact that it was still steaming. Tentatively you pour him another cup, to which he says, “thanks,” before loading it with sugar again. “It’s good,” he says and this time he sips it.

“It’s one of my favorites. Very soothing,” you say. “Normally.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I wish anything was soothing. You know Steve almost ran into a goddamn minefield today?”

You didn’t know that, you don’t think anything the Avengers do is any of your business, really, and where does one even find a minefield in New York City– you don’t say any of that, but you apparently don’t need to, because Bucky is off like a shot saying more words than you’d have thought possible for him. All of it is ranting about what a reckless dumbass Captain America is, and a Brooklyn accent increasingly comes through, egged into existence by sheer aggravation. You sit and listen, transfixed not so much by the details (they’re too fleeting and sparse) but by how annoyed Bucky is with Captain Amer- with “Steve goddamn pain in the ass Rogers” and you’re never going to be able to see him again without snickering.

Bucky sighs heavily and rests his chin on the table. He looks very tired, all of a sudden. Maybe a relaxing tea and enthusiastic rant wasn’t the best combination. Then again, he also looks less tense, so perhaps it’s fine. “Why don’t you stop for the night and go get some sleep,” you say and take away his cup. “You can finish up tomorrow.”

He squints at you, squints back at the floor (that you honestly can’t tell is any different from the rest), and looks back at you. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” you say and stack the cups. “When you come back refreshed you can tell me why Steve Rogers can never walk past that animal shelter without ducking his head in shame.”

Bucky’s smile is lopsided and he shakes his head. “Maybe,” he admits and hops off the chair. “I’ll just…leave the stuff here then, if that’s okay?”

You nod and he quickly picks up and puts the supplies in the empty bottom space of your side table. He goes for the window.

“I have a-!”

And he’s gone. You roll your eyes. If Steve Rogers really is as much of an asshole as Bucky says he is, then those two deserve each other.

For all that the Captain America mythos has been debunked for you, you’re still brought up short when you suddenly encounter Steve Rogers the next night.

On your fire escape.

He knocks his head against the railing in his scramble to simultaneously get up and face you, curses, and lifts his hands defensively. “I can explain.”

You rub your face with both hands. They definitely deserve each other. “I doubt that,” you mutter and sigh heavily. Thank goodness there haven’t been any actual fires; you don’t know how you’d get out with all these buff superheroes hanging around outside your window. “Have you lost something?”

Captain America looks at the ground for a moment, and then flashes you a smile. “…Yes?”

God, he is a smartass. “Do you want to come inside or do you want to risk some Nosy Nancy from the building across the street seeing a big shadow and calling the cops?”

That would never happen, but he slips inside almost immediately and then there he is, in all his uniformed, shield-holding glory. It’s too weird to think about, and you step back to give him (and you) space while you close the curtains. “Thank you,” he says politely and looks around. “Your apartment is lovely; it’s very…green.”

You’re not sure why he hesitates, until you see him looking at your yellowing majesty palm. “He’s coming back,” you say and go to adjust the plant for lack of anything else your nervous hands can do. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you,” he says and stands with his feet shoulder wide and his hands clasped down in front of him. It is perhaps the least comforting thing he can do and for one ridiculous moment you wish Bucky was here to be in between you. You wish the Winter Soldier was here. To protect you. From Captain America.

You clear your throat. “So,” you say and grab yourself something. “Do you lurk outside everyone’s apartment at some point, or am I just special?”

For all his military posturing, Captain America squirms like a schoolboy. “I swear I wasn’t– okay, I guess I was but not intentionally? I was…looking. For something.”

“Something you dropped?” you ask him.

“A person,” he says, staring elsewhere. For a moment you have a paranoid thought he’s staring at the space where Bucky had fallen in that night, but no, he’s just looking at the window. At least you remembered to change the curtains.

“Pretty sure you can see one of those without squinting into the grates,” you say.

“He might have passed through on his way somewhere else,” Captain America says. “Have you seen a man outside?”

“Other than you?” you ask. He blushes even harder than Bucky does– and think of the devil, you have a moment where you’re not sure what you should say, but quickly come to realize that whatever is going on between the two of them, you do not want to get stuck in the middle.

You’re prepared to lie your ass off, but he apparently takes your response as a rebuke. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you feel unsafe.”

“It’s fine,” you say. Despite his previous answer, you lean into the fridge to get him a bottle of water. “I’m pretty sure Captain America isn’t going to murder me. And if you decided you wanted to, well, there’s nothing I could really do about it.”

He chokes on the drink he’s just taken. You instinctively lean in so you can slam his back but after a couple of hits he covers his mouth and waves you off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says and grabs a nearby dishcloth to wipe up what he just spit on the counter. “That was just…really dark.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not the one lurking on fire escapes,” you say.

He rolls his eyes. The nerve. You laugh and he actually grins. Asshole. His smile softens though and he says, “I’m really–”

“Sorry,” you finish for him.

“Am I that predictable already?”

You shrug. You want to tell him it’s because he and Bucky seem very much alike in that respect. You want to but…you don’t. Whatever Bucky’s problem is, he seems to want to deal with it himself, and it’s not your place to get in between them and start snitching. “You seem the type. Don’t worry about it so much. You…look pretty worried. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Thank you.” His lips turn into a sad sort-of smile and he takes a slower drink. “I guess I am pretty worried. This man I’m looking for, he’s…important to me, and he’s been through a lot, and I just want to know he’s okay.”

You stare at him. He looks down. And looks down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to babble like that,” he says and glances at you with a strained smile. “I don’t normally do that.”

“Hm.” You stare at him for several seconds and notice he is blinking an awful lot. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m a little tired,” he says, quietly, and some of the posturing seeps out of him and he lets himself slump a little more. He suddenly shakes his head and sits up straight again. “Thanks again for…” He looks around and settles for shaking his water bottle.

You hold back a laugh. “Sure. I uh…do you need me to call you a cab?”

He shakes his head firmly and, to his credit, he’s pretty excellent at pretending to be okay. You almost believe him. “I can get home all right.”

“Well, please make sure you do. I can think of a lot of people who’d be sad to think of you collapsing on the way home because you wore yourself down to the bone,” you say. “And from how you seem to worry about your friend, I bet you can think of at least one.”

He blinks, like he’s surprised, but a smile curls onto his face, warm and true. “Good night,” he says, and because you’re so nice, you don’t stop him when he goes back out the window. At this point, it’s beginning to feel like a lost cause.

“What did you say to him?”

“I know you don’t like the door,” you say, not even turning away from the plant you’re watering. Any time you put down the canister you forget where you left off and you are not going to kill these plants by overwatering. Not again. “But maybe you could at least tap on the window when you decide you’re going to enter my apartment.”

“Why do you leave your window open?” Bucky huffs. You can hear him sit at the counter behind you. “You know what kind of creeps can take advantage of that?”

You finish watering the last plant and turn to stare at him. “I’m starting to get an idea.”

Bucky scowls. “I’m not a creep,” he mutters.

“Polite society encourages doorways instead of windows,” you say. “It’s okay. Captain America, apparently, is also a creep.”

Bucky sits up straighter. “What did he say?”

“Not much,” you say. “He was squatting on the fire escape like he could make you spontaneously materialize. I invited him in for an explanation and after a little while he went on his way.”

“After a little while,” Bucky repeats and squints at you suspiciously.

You shrug. “He likes to vent to complete strangers, apparently. But I didn’t tell him anything about you, it doesn’t seem fair to tell you anything about him. If you want to know, I get the feeling you can go ask him.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but he stands up and stretches. “You said I bled on the drapes?”

“I already scrubbed that out, if you can finish the floor,” you say and go for the tea pot. “Do you like green tea?”

“As long as you do it right,” he says and starts scrubbing again. “I hate it all bitter.”

You go for the good matcha and start preparing it while he works out his frustrations on your floor. You glance at him a couple of times but he seems fully focused on his task, until you finish the tea and call him back to the bar.

“Steve Rogers is a pain in the ass and don’t let anyone tell you different,” he grumbles, but it’s soft and there’s a troubled look on his face as he takes his cup.

“Do you miss him?” you ask and blow gently across your drink.

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Just as you're about to apologize for overstepping, though, he speaks. “It’s hard to go back when you’ve done the shit I have, you know?”

No. You have absolutely no idea what it’s like to live as a free man after decades of literal objectification and being used as a murder weapon for fascists. But it doesn’t seem very helpful to say that, so instead you say, gently, “I can’t even imagine.”

Bucky bobs his head and takes another sip of his drink. You’re delighted he seems to be drinking it fairly quickly, but also a little dismayed because a good matcha latte takes a decent amount of work and it’ll take a little time if he wants another cup. “I want to go back but I can’t yet. I wish he wouldn’t be so goddamn stubborn about it is all. Just because he thinks I didn’t do anything wrong doesn’t make it true.”

You nod, like any of this makes any goddamn sense to you. But maybe– maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe Bucky’s saying all this because you’re an outside entity with no personal stake in, or knowledge of, what counts as treason, or what’s needed to lack culpability, or what it means to be an absent friend.

He rambles, a little bit, and though about half the words are proper nouns you don’t recognize, you nod along, and when he finishes his latte you make him another one, and when he leaves, you don’t mention the door. Even though you want to.

You’ve actually forgotten how nice it is to have someone come through the door. Case in point–

“Um, I hope this is all right,” Steve Rogers, dressed in casual civilian fare and holding a small pot of flowers, says as you can do nothing but stare at him. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for being so understanding. May I…come in?”

That snaps you out of your funk and you quickly stand aside. “Of course; sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting you.”

“I was just going to leave the plant with a note if you weren't here, but I’m glad you were,” Captain Rogers says and walks in, and sets the pot down on the counter.

You walk over to the fridge. “Would you like something to–” As you turn to finish the question you see him glance furtively at the window. Ah, of course. He looks down guiltily and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh. Well, he did come through the correct entrance and brought some pretty flowers. “All right, you did knock on the door this time; go sniff around the fire escape all you want.”

“I’m just checking something I forgot,” he says quickly and goes to the window. He’s only outside long enough for you to brew some tea and he comes back in just as you’re pouring his cup. It isn’t until he’s about to take a sip, however, that he says, “Oh– I know it looks bad, but Bucky– sorry, James Barnes– I swear he isn’t dangerous.”

“I know. I saw some of the trial stuff,” you lie. Well, you did see some of it, but it wasn’t until you heard Bucky mutter “Martha Stewart was right,” while fussing at some of the blood on his shirt that you felt safer. Strange as it is to think.

Steve relaxes his shoulders like some of the weight is off of them. “You have no idea how good that is to hear. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people say to me. I can’t really punch people anymore because I’m so much stronger now but it’s so tempting sometimes. At least when it’s online I can mime punching them.”

His annoyed tone allows you to laugh a little. “Maybe imagine the block button is a punch in the face?” you suggest.

He grins. “My friend Clint suggested printing out the most irritating comments and taping them to a punching bag. It didn’t really work but the thought was nice. The block button as a punch to the face though…”

The guy doesn’t really need more violence in his life, but he genuinely seems pleased with the idea, so you let it be. And when he starts ranting in detail about some of the comments he gets about Bucky, you make a new pot of tea– chamomile. For the both of you.

You don’t know how the flowers are dead already– it seems like Steve just brought them and they were so pretty you immediately looked up care instructions and followed them to the letter. Or so you thought. But now, only days later, you have a pot of dirt and withered petals.

And Bucky sulking at your counter.

“I told him I was fine,” he says petulantly.

You sigh and bring the pot over to the sink and think about what to do. “Did you tell him in person?”

“In a letter. He knew it was from me.”

The soil looks nice, so you’ll dig out the remains and try to plant some replacement seeds. Maybe that was the problem– maybe the flowers were sick or something. “Well reading and seeing are two different things.”

“He knows I cover him in fights.”

You slowly look at Bucky. His oh-so intelligent response is to bristle like a cat and go, “What?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s desperate to see you, knows you’re near when he’s fighting, and you wonder why he’s “so goddamn reckless?’”

Bucky just glares. Yeah, these two morons absolutely deserve each other.

You hope Bucky figures it out sooner rather than later.

He doesn’t, but he keeps coming by, as does Steve, and you resign yourself to hosting two pining idiots who keep dancing around each other.

Bucky drinks anything you give him without complaint. However he drinks the lattes and almost anything green tea a little quicker, though he tries to hide his cup from you when he does. Whether he’s ashamed of going through them so fast or embarrassed you don’t know, but you start to give him bigger cups, and that seems to help.

The first time you give Steve a cup of apple pie spice, he gives you a severe glare– which he then completely undermines by liking the blend immensely.

“I swore the next person who offered me apple pie would get popped,” Steve says, an amusing mixture of half-bluster and half-shame as he sips from the classic teacup you hope not to regret handing him.

“Lucky for me it’s not actually apple pie,” you say. “Do people really make that joke?”

The eyeroll Steve gives that is 200% sass. “You have no idea,” he says, deadly serious, “–how funny people think they are.”

This becomes…oddly normal. Listening to Steve talk about anything that’s on his mind, giving Bucky new tea blends just to see how he reacts to them; your apartment is no longer just you and a bunch of greenery that seems to wilt more often than not. Everything seems warmer, and better– even your plants seem healthier. (For that, though, you suspect Bucky is giving them a special mixture of something after you catch a glance of him messing with one of the pots. You want to ask him what he’s doing, but you don’t want to admit that he’s better at taking care of them than you are.)

It’s so normal, that you feel the silence only after the first few nights without a visit. They don’t visit every night, but they visit often enough that you know they’re off somewhere even without them telling you. For a couple of weeks you try to pretend the quiet doesn’t bother you, but you check the fire escape twice every night, and then once more before you go to bed.

The next time you see Bucky is during one of these checks. There was no tapping, no noise to otherwise alert you, he’s just suddenly back, sitting next to the window, hunched over in black clothes nearly blending into the darkness and staring out at nothing in the night.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and crawl out to kneel next to him. “Are you hurt again?”

“No,” he mutters and continues to glare at some imaginary point in the distance. “Steve was, though.”

It’s a little harder to swallow. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles and buries his mouth further against his arms. “He’s fine, strutting around the hospital like a- like a- …” He huffs and sits back to wave his arms before he curls back in on himself. “But it was close, and he’s an asshole.”

“Mm,” you say. “Chamomile mint?”

He sighs heavily but he gets to his feet and starts to enter, only to stop and hold open the curtains for you.

“Thank you sir,” you say with only a hint of sarcasm and go on ahead to get the tea started. Bucky snorts but doesn’t say anything and you use the time the water needs to heat up to take care of some of your plants.

“Stop it.”

The snap comes so fast from Bucky you immediately stop what you’re doing. He doesn’t look as angry as he sounded, but he’s frowning pretty hard. “You're overwatering that one; jade plants are succulents. You don’t need to drown it.”

You look at the plant and set the watering can down. “Oh.” You knew that. You think. You’re just nervous. “Did you see him? In the hospital?”

“Briefly. I didn’t talk to him; just made sure he was all right,” Bucky says. “And he is. I wouldn’t leave him if he wasn’t.”

That does assuage some of your concerns. Steve is nice. You want him to be okay. And Bucky is– also nice, but god, they’re both so fucking frustrating. “You couldn’t have just–”

“Don’t start with–”

“I’m just saying–”

“And I’m telling you not to say–”

“I pay the rent for all that you sublet my fire escape; I’ll say what I want,” you manage to finish to Bucky’s consternation. You lift your head proudly and he frowns to one side. And then he…smirks. You’re not sure you like that.

“Crappiest space in the city,” he says and sits up. “You could at least get a chair.”

You roll your eyes and dole out the tea, fixing it the way Bucky likes. No sugar for this one, but plenty of honey. “If I ever have to leave for an actual fire, I’ll be in enough trouble trying to get around you.”

“Nah. I’d carry you out,” Bucky says and lifts his cup in a silent ‘cheers.’ He takes a sip and the sigh sounds content, so you assume you did it right. For a few moments a comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you sip warm drinks surrounded by greenery (that is mostly green) and life goes on in faint sounds outside the confines of your home.

Bucky sets his empty cup down with a sigh. “Do you think, if I show up to throttle him, that he’ll actually start watching his own fucking back?”

You give that some serious thought. “Will you give him time to moon at you first?”

Bucky sighs with disgust and flumps back onto the counter. “This is stupid. This all feels so stupid.”

You open your mouth because you do have a lot of opinions about honest communication and using innocent civilian apartments to dance around each other, but Bucky shoots you a glare to let you know that a, he knows, and b, he doesn’t appreciate it. You roll your eyes and go back to drinking your tea. It is a very good blend, and you’re not going to let it go unappreciated because two early 20th century boys can’t get their shit together.

Not that you’re complaining, really– you’re starting to feel like less of a disaster by comparison. Or maybe letting two strange men into your apartment makes you just as bad by default. You rub the bridge of your nose. Yeah, no one is getting out of this looking sane. You feel like that should bother you more than it does, but it’s just a fleeting thought before you go back to worrying about Steve and pouring Bucky’s cup back to full.

The next night when someone knocks on your door, you’re only mildly surprised to see Steve on the other side. And most of that surprise is because you can see fading bruises on his face, and also because he is holding a fairly big potted plant with tall green and yellow-edged leaves.

“Hi,” he says and lifts the pot slightly. “I got you a present.”

“Uh, wow; thanks?” you say and quickly step back to let him in, momentarily forgetting he can probably carry it around with ease. Steve places the plant on the floor near the end of your couch, where it actually looks fairly nice. He gestures at it proudly. “It’s a snake plant. The man at the nursery said it’s very hard to kill.”

“You’re not funny,” you say but you look at it appreciatively. It is nice, and you could do with ‘hard to kill’. Speaking of– “Should you be up? You look like you should be in a hospital.”

He shrugs and his face goes neutral. “I’m healing well enough that there’s nothing a hospital could do for me. And I felt so…restless.”

You nod. “Want some tea?”

“Please. I really like what you make,” he says and immediately takes a seat at the counter. Oddly enough, it’s not the one Bucky always takes. You don’t realize you squint at the space for too long until Steve looks curious and asks, “Is everything okay?”

You squint at the countertop. “Yeah, just…trying to figure out if that’s a stain or a spot.”

Thankfully there is a spot of spilled something and you quickly grab a towel and wipe it away. You think it’s a pretty good save, but Steve looks at you with a raised brow, like he’s figured something out. You freeze. “What?” What are you going to say? How is he going to react? What will you–

“Was that a coffee ring?”

You blink a few times, and then roll your eyes as your chest practically deflates. He smiles and winks. “I can’t believe you.”

“I am a layered human being who can drink many things,” you say defensively. “And if you want coffee you’ll have to ask another time. I’m not giving you anything with caffeine in it when you look like you got hit by a truck.”

“Train,” he corrects absently. “It barely clipped me.”

You sigh and go for the sleepy blend. One of you is going to have to bow out of this conversation due to exhaustion and at this point you don’t care if it’s you. However it might truly come in handy as Steve keeps looking out the window and shaking his foot. You set the cup in front of him and before you can ask what’s wrong, he takes the cup in both hands and blurts out, “I think I saw him.”

You look at the window and squint. “Seriously?”

“Not here.” Steve rolls his eyes. Like you’re the crazy one. He blows gently across the surface of the liquid and says, “Though it’s strange you’d think I saw Bucky out of your window.”

“Isn't that why you started showing up here in the first place? I distinctly remember someone with a big red, white, and blue shield lurking on my fire escape.”

“Oh, right,” he admits sheepishly, hunched over his cup. His eyes glimmer with mischief as he looks up at you through long lashes and asks, “Did I ever apologize to you for that?”

You’re brought up short by the amount of boyish charm this giant walking wall of muscle manages to pack into that look and you have to find your tongue to say, “I– y-yeah…”

Steve chuckles to himself and you give yourself a mental slap on the face. “Troll,” you mutter and sip from your mug. The liquid is piping hot and burns your tongue, giving you an excuse to grimace when Steve flashes you a beautiful smile.

You’re in trouble.

Not physically, not immediately, and perhaps someone on the outside might say you’re being dramatic about it, but they wouldn’t know shit about the situation. They wouldn’t know about how your hands felt as they slid over Steve’s when he handed you a new small pot of flowers; they wouldn’t know about the feeling of serenity that settled over you when Bucky abandoned some of his oh so careful control and rested his head on your shoulder for four long seconds; they wouldn’t know how it feels like you’re missing something until someone shows up at your door or taps at your window.

You’re falling in love with two people who have always been, and still are, desperately in love with each other.

Isn’t that just your luck.

In the end, Bucky takes your advice more to heart than you ever expected he would– you and Steve are quietly enjoying each others’ company, with you standing in the kitchen and Steve sitting at the counter as per usual, when the curtains move dramatically for Bucky to slip in, which makes Steve whirl around, and your hands jerk so hard from all the sudden surprise that your cup slips out and crashes to the floor.

“Shi-” You forget to watch your step and immediately catch a jagged shard that embeds itself right under the ball of your foot. “Ow, fuck!”

Your name is said in different voices but very similar tones of alarm and you suddenly find yourself gathered into Bucky’s arms, bridal style, and he carries you over to the couch. “Wh-” You swallow at the close proximity to Bucky’s chest and the way he holds you so effortlessly but so securely. “I’m fine; it’s just a little–”

Bucky sits down on the couch and doesn’t move you, which means you are basically sitting cross-wise in his lap. This is not something you need after your recent revelation, and it doesn’t get any easier when Steve comes back with the heavy duty first aid kit Bucky got you and gingerly takes your foot to examine the injury. His sympathetic look towards you gives you the warning you need to brace yourself before he pulls the shard out. It doesn’t hurt too terribly and he’s almost tender as he cleans your foot.

“Look at us, matching blood and all,” Bucky says lightly.

“It’s my floor I’ll bleed on it if I want,” you grumble, but you’re too distracted by how focused Steve is on fixing you up. “You…seem to be taking this well.”

“I knew he had been here since the first time I came,” Steve admits as he rolls the gauze around your foot. “There was a bloodstain on your floor still.”

“Seriously?” You had thought Bucky was being overdramatic about the supposed stain and humored him, but it…makes sense. Why else would he come back the next night. Why else would Steve continue to come by. And because Steve had kept coming, Bucky had kept coming, and…they won’t need to come back anymore, will they? They now have what they’ve wanted. Each other.

Someone says your name and you force yourself back to neutral as much as you possibly can. Steve looks curious though and Bucky says, “What’s with that look?”

“There’s no look,” you say. “And if there is, it’s only because you two have devised the weirdest meet-cute ever– decades after you actually met.”

“Hm.” Bucky continues to stare at you, but doesn’t say anything else.

They come back. And they both use the door.

You don’t know what you’re more shocked by– that Bucky and Steve, having come back to each other, are still coming around to you, or that Bucky is actually walking through the designated threshold. You don’t have a lot of time to think about it though because the place is…a mess.

“What happened here?” Steve asks as Bucky’s shoulders go up to his ears and he looks around the place like he’s going to find something unpleasant.

“It’s not that bad,” you say and glance around. You’ve cleaned out a few of the pots already and stacked them away in the closet, but some of the plants are still…slightly alive, for a little while. A couple are even doing fairly well– one of which being the snake plant Steve got you.

“What happened to the jungle?” Bucky asks, looking around shrewdly. You don’t like the sound of that. It feels so…probing, and raises your hackles. Why should he care?

“I wasn’t keeping them alive for very long.” You flick a yellowing leaf and keep your tone light. “I just got tired of it. What are…what are you doing here?”

You don’t look at Steve, but he clears his throat and his tone is similar to Bucky’s when he asks, “Is now a bad time?”

“For what?” You square your shoulders and face them. Like an adult. Like an adult who had two other adults just sort of crash into their life one day and start sharing space until such time as the two window-crashers decided they…didn’t need to come around anymore. “I’m happy you both found each other. You didn’t have to come back.”

Steve looks…well, he looks hurt. You don’t know any other way to describe it; it doesn’t show in his face so much as in his eyes, in the feeling you get watching the line of his shoulders lower. But before he can say anything, before you can explain yourself, Bucky speaks up.

“It isn’t like that,” he says.

You look down. It’s easier than looking at a man who feels rejected, and a man who has you completely pegged.

“What?” Steve asks.

“It’s okay,” you say, in perhaps the biggest bald-faced lie you’ve ever told.

“That’s not– no,” Bucky insists and lifts your chin. His fingers are warm and gentle and linger too long.

You pull back from his touch before you can embarrass yourself further. “You guys were literally circling each other.”

“Please.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “I don’t need to keep coming back here to be near Steve. I know where he lives.”

“And I leave my window unlocked,” Steve says. He aims a cheeky grin at Bucky and adds, “Guess I should have left it open though.”

“Shut up,” Bucky tells him but looks at you and says, “Point is: we weren't using you.”

Steve blinks. “Oh– no, of course not!”

“It’s all right,” you say, trying as hard as you can to assuage their discomfort even though you can’t put much into it. Even though you did very much want this meeting to happen, somehow you don’t feel very ‘all right.’

“No,” Bucky says and takes your hand in his. The flesh hand, which he runs up to the middle of your forearm. His touch is gentle and light, even when he grips. You can break away, but you don’t– you let him pull you in, close and closer, until there’s barely any room between you.

Steve crowds from the side and puts one arm behind Bucky, and one arm behind you. “If you only think we’re here because of each other, then it’s not all right,” he says softly.

“I know it isn’t– I know you weren't ‘using’ m–” You swallow hard. “And I know it’s not–”

They both swoop in for a kiss– for a kiss with you. Somehow they avoid bumping heads and the lip-lip-lip contact is barely there, with Steve at the corner and Bucky barely catching one side of your upper lip, but they're both there for a glorious moment that leaves you stunned.

“Oh…” you say, dumbly. You try to fight it, but a smile pulls at your lips. “Oh.”

“That good already, huh?” Steve asks quietly, slowly forming a small smile of his own.

You let out a little sigh that is immediately undermined by an uncontrollable laugh that swells from a bubble of relief at the base of your throat. “Bucky’s right, you are insufferable,” you say but you reach out to sweep your fingers in a gentle touch down Steve’s cheek and under his chin.

“You get used to it,” Bucky says.

You think about that. Even with how you’ve been, entertaining these two rotating planets over the last however many weeks or months, this would be an entirely new normal.

You think you can’t wait to get used to it.

#steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #captain america fanfic #reader insert #stucky x reader #mcu reader insert

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citrusdarling7 · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 5- Corruption Kink with The Darkling

summary- the leader of Ravka’s Second Army takes a special interest in his innocent new solider, you

cw- kinda manipulative behavior, loss of virginity, use of “y/n” once, use of the word “sir”, and the Darkling himself is a warning lmfao

🗡—————————————————————🗡

Shadows danced across the palace walls in an unnatural rhythm. All of the curtains were drawn and the only sound that could be heard was the occasional clunk of boots. Oprichniki guards were surely patrolling the halls, but they were the least of your worries.

Truthfully, you were unsure of why the Darkling had requested your company tonight. You had been told by a maid that he needed the help of a Corporalki to test some sort of new Fabrikator device. But you had only been in the Little Palace for a mere month, and surely someone with more experience would be of more use to him. Nonetheless, you stood waiting outside of his quarters at exactly midnight, just as you had been requested to do.

Suddenly, the long door slid open, creaking on its hinges. The Darkling stood tall in his dark kefta as a satisfied smile graced his face. You inclined your head slightly to show your respect for the general.

“Y/n. You look lovely, as always. Come in and join me.” He stepped to the side, allowing you room to pass. As you entered the dark quarters, you watched him wave away two nearby Oprichniki.

This was your first time visiting the Darkling’s private rooms, and you were more than impressed. A round table in the war room depicted all of Ravka, along with its neighbouring countries. A variety of little figurines had been placed over certain cities and trade routes. Beside it, there was a smaller table that sat next to a bursting bookshelf. The country’s emblem had been stitched to a large banner which hung from what you assumed to be a window.

“The new kefta suits you. It was a shame that the old one was wrecked beyond repair.” He reached for your sleeve, then stopped for a visual confirmation of consent. Proud to be wearing your Grisha colors, you held your left arm out to him. The Darkling admired the material between his fingers, most likely impressed with the work of one of his loyal Fabrikators.

“Thank you, Sir. Grisha technology is still so new to me, yet incredibly intriguing. Where is the new device I am meant to test?” You had glanced around the room, but seen nothing that looked as if it needed a Corporalki to operate it.

“Ah, about that. Forgive me, but I may have lied a bit to get you here,” he told you with narrowed eyes. You took a step closer, interested in what the general had to say. “The matters I wish to discuss with you tonight are rather confidential.”

Ohh. This was a matter of war and politics. Well, now you understood why he had sent those two guards away. Before you realized your abilities, your studies in Balakirev had been focused on international relations. It made sense that he would come to you.

“Is there a particular issue you wish to seek my counsel on?” The Darkling closed the gap between you, unknowingly pressing your back against the edge of the circular table.

“You’re too innocent for your own good, especially considering your status as a Heartrender,” he laughed, his hand brushing your hair behind your ears. Unsure of how to respond to his sudden, you meekly smiled up at him.

“Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that I needed to make you mine.” Cold fingers traced your jawline as he spoke.

“I am yours. I answer to my general, as any good soldier would,” you told him. You had concluded that this was a test of your loyalty, which made sense, seeing as you were still a fairly new recruit to the Second Army. “I would slit my throat before I join forces with the Shu Han or the witch-hunting Fjerdans.” The Darkling let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head.

“Although I admire your undying loyalty to Ravka, that is not what I meant. Saints, you truly are clueless.” You frowned, a bit angry that he would say such a thing. Although the mastery of your Heartrender abilities was still coming along, you considered yourself to be decently intelligent. “Do not fret, pretty girl. I did not summon you here to reprimand you. Your training is coming along wonderfully,” he assured you.

“Then Sir, why am I here?” He chose to non-verbally answer your question by grabbing your face and pulling you in for a rather passionate kiss.

You would never admit it to any of your fellow Grisha, but you had never been kissed before. In that moment, it was everything that you had ever imagined. The Darkling gripped the back of your head with both of his hands as his lips worked against yours, sending waves of euphoria down your spine. His tongue invaded your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip.

When you finally forced yourself to push him away out of a need for breath, you realized how wrong this was. A reflective surface nearby revealed that your lips were flushed red and your hair was completely askew. Immediately, you headed for the door.

“Wait a moment,” the Darkling requested. His hands snaked around your waist from behind, successfully trapping you in his grip. “I apologize for being so forward with you. But Saints, you have ignored all of my previous advances! I simply wanted to confirm that you were interested.”

“Advances,” you spoke in a shaky breath. “Sir, what advances?”

“Was it not obvious? The flowers delivered to your room, the introduction to the royal family, the new kefta. Why else would I have been so welcoming to a Heartrender who came to my army nearly ten years late, with absolutely no battle skills whatsoever, if not for my clear desire?”

“I thought you saw potential in me,” you admitted. He laughed again, although this time it upset you.

“You are quite beautiful, but not of much use to me or the Second Army. A Heartrender who refuses to kill is like a dog that doesn’t bark.” Your face blossomed with shame at his reminder. He was right; you had made it clear to all of your instructors that you would not take a life. “Do not fret, pretty girl. I would reckon that all you need is a bit of corruption. Some darkness put into you.” The Darkling’s lips met the crook between your collarbone and neck. He nipped at your skin while humming quietly to himself.

“What do you mean?” you asked nervously.

“Let me ruin you; wreck that glowing innocence of yours. I will show you pleasure beyond what you have ever imagined,” he propositioned as one of his hands started to fumble with the fastenings of your kefta. His hot mouth against your skin made it so that the pit of your stomach felt as if it was on fire. “If you ask nicely, I might even be gentle.”

Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, you shrugged your kefta off your shoulders and turned to face the man. Dark eyes met yours as you wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. You silently prayed that the Saints would forgive you for the mistake you were currently making.

This time around, the kiss quickly escalated. Strong arms lifted and positioned you on the table, scattering about dozens of figurines and notes. The Darkling hastily removed his own kefta while you discarded your boots and woolen stockings. Underneath your red Grisha coat was a simple black dress.

“My color looks wonderful on you,” he praised you as his hands slid under your dress. You whimpered in surprise and anticipation as two of his fingers gripped the waistband of your undergarments and pulled them down. He had to manually bend your knees to get the garment completely off of you, seeing as your body was too overwhelmed to do much.

“My pretty girl, has a man ever touched you before?” The Darkling’s fingers grazed against your bare core while he awaited your response.

“N-Never like that, Sir,” you told him, attempting to hang your head to shield your reddening face. He used his free hand to grab your chin and yank it upwards.

“Good. I want you all to myself.” His digits trailed gently across your cunt, collecting your arousal with every swipe. “So wet for me,” he hummed in approval. Two fingers penetrated you suddenly, eliciting your body to lean forward into his. Once again, your lips met his in a fiery kiss.

As his fingers continuously thrusted into your sensitive cunt, it became harder and harder for you to concentrate on the kiss. Small moans left your mouth every few seconds as the pleasure continued to grow.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed in between heavy pants. Your head fell between the crook of his neck as the Darkling added another finger, which increased the sensations you were feeling by ten-fold.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Unable to form a coherent response, you opted to nod your head and whimper. The general’s fingers left you, leaving your cunt aching and clenching over nothing. “I think you’re ready for the real thing.”

Before you could process anything that had just happened, you were lying on black bed sheets in a very dark room as the Darkling attacked your neck with his lips. His bare cock was hard against your thigh. You were so overwhelmed by everything happening that you had yet to notice anything abnormal in his sleeping chambers.

“Give me your hand,” he demanded suddenly. You obeyed, although hesitantly. “It’s going to hurt at first. Dig your nails into my palm if you must.”

Without warning, he lined himself up to your entrance and began to slowly stretch your walls. You bit against your lip and clamped your eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the sharp pain. The Darkling pressed his forehead against yours as he let out a low groan.

“Saints, you’re fucking tight. You take me so well.” You had the sudden urge to claw at his back, which you acted on. As he bottomed out inside of you, your fingernails drew blood from his skin.

At least, they should have. When you retracted your hands, you were surprised to find no trace of blood. Perhaps your Grisha abilities had finally shown up in a most unexpected way. The Darkling came to a similar realization.

“My pretty girl, I am going to have so much fun with you.”

🗡—————————————————————🗡

(tagging some of you hotties even tho idk if you’re a grishaverse fan) (if you’re tired of getting tagged in my kinktober stuff lmk!)

@brriley @b-aobao @ravenriddlewrites @littlemulattokitten

#the darkling #grishaverse #shadown and bone #the darkling smut #kinktober #citrusdarling7kinktober #citrusdarlingkinktober #smuttober #grishaverse smut #six of crows

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skiller0dani · 3 years

Text

Palace Garden | General Kirigan

M A S T E R L I S T Shadow and Bone Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 4.8k summary | You are the General’s personal Healer, he doesn’t go anywhere without you. So when General Kirigan is invited to the King Pyotr’s annual ‘end of year’ party at the Grand Palace, you join him. Except the King’s second son, Nikolai, takes a special interest in you.

song

My Shadow and Bone pieces will probably include Spoilers from the SHOW. I have not yet read the books, I have only read through most of Six of Crows. I’m finishing that book as we speak, I have only seen the Shadow and Bone tv show, I haven’t read the books.

PSA: I write with limited knowledge of who Nikolai Lantsov is, although I know he is royalty (King of Ravka I believe) but in the show he isn’t the King, so I made him a Prince. Don’t be mad at me, this is all for fun and it’s FICTION.

“You’ve received another invitation from the King, just how long do you plan to ignore him?” You snicker as you drop a letter onto the General’s desk. It’s an invitation to King Pyotr’s End of Year Celebration, attended by decorated Soldiers from both the First and Second Army, and hopefully the esteemed General. The previous year the General had ‘urgent’ matters to attend to so he was unable to attend the dreaded party in his words. In truth you always had fun at the King’s Celebrations so you didn’t know what always soured his fun.

“Until the day after next.” His shoulders were rigid and his tone was clipped.

“General, tonight is the Celebration. You must answer the King by then, you know that.” You chuckled with a roll of your eyes, watching as the General begrudgingly tore open the envelope. You watched as his eyes scanned the paper in front of him, his eyebrows pinching together in frustration.

“General?” You knew it was unwise to engage him when he was in a state of agitation but in all honesty, you didn’t fear him the way everyone else did. General Kirigan swiftly ignored you and reached for a pen, and upon further examination your eyes caught your name written on the letter from the King.

‘I am most eager to meet your esteemed Healer, Y/N.’

The General tends to get a tad, possessive, of the things he deems belong to him. You were one the things the General had claimed as his own, and anybody who shows a particular interest in you tends to annoy him. You can see the tension growing in his shoulders, and while you might not know how deeply he cares for you, you know he sees you as more than just his Healer. Hopefully, he sees you as a sort of friend as well.

“Are we going to attend the Celebration General?” You ask cautiously, watching as Kirigan’s expression shifts from mildly annoyed to thoroughly agitated. You make sure to keep at least one foot distance between you and the General at all times, he tends to be a bit unpredictable when he’s upset. You watch as the General stands, yanking at the buttons of his Kefta before tossing the heavy fabric onto his bed.

“Yes, we are. Apparently both Princes will be in attendance.” The General says through a huff, reaching for his dress jacket- the black one with gold detailing he wears for social events. The Princes? Neither of the Princes have been spotted inside the Grand Palace for a few months now, it’s no wonder the King has chosen tonight for the Celebration. The end of the year isn’t for a few weeks and normally the Celebration is closer to the years change. You try to mask the mild excitement you feel at the prospect of meeting either of the Princes, although you don’t hear much about Prince Vasily. Most of the young Grisha women training in the Little Palace whisper about Prince Nikolai.

“Does this please you?” The General asks, his tone distracted as he finishes buttoning his Kefta in the mirror. You shake your head, your eyes briefly catching his.

“I couldn’t care either way General.” You say with a shrug, and you swear you see the tiniest smile grace the corner of his lips. For as long as you could remember you’ve had a thing for the General, what women wouldn’t? He’s tall, handsome, has dark hair, dark eyes, and he’s powerful. You doubt some Prince could ever compare to General Kirigan, not that you’re hoping one will. A Tailor swiftly enters the General’s chambers then, her eyes landing on you.

“A package has come for Y/N sir, and she should be getting ready for the party soon.” She says, her eyes only briefly meeting the General’s before flickering back towards the floor. His eyebrows stitch together when he sees the box she holds. You reach for it before his hand raises, “give it to me.” He instructs sternly. The Tailor quickly hands the package to the General and you see an unreadable expression pull onto his face. He plucks a note from the top lid of the package, and hands it to you before opening the package.

I await our meeting with bated breath dear Y/N.

- Prince Nikolai

Inside the package is easily the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. It’s blood red with silver detailing, and it goes all the way to the floor. You take the dress from the General, stroking the smooth silk. He can see the twinkling in your eyes as you eye the gift from the Prince, it sends surges of frustration through his tightening chest. The Tailor ushers you into the General’s bathroom so you can change, and the General turns his back for privacy. It’s been like this for some time now, you hardly ever get ready for social events in your own room anymore. You’d been the General’s Healer for quite a few years now, and on more than one occasion he’s had to provide some Healing for you as well. He’s seen your entire upper torso bare from when he had to heal a stab wound through your chest. Needless to say, you were probably too comfortable in the presence of the General.

You stepped out of the bathroom and the General turned, his eyes landing on you. For a second he didn’t know what to say, you were absolutely stunning. Your hair had been let in loose curls down your back, normally you wore it up and out of the way so he didn’t normally get to admire your hair falling around your face. The dress hugged each of your curves beautifully, but the color was irritating him. Surely it was tailored to match whatever the Prince was wearing and General Kirigan couldn’t let that slide.

“Well? Am I presentable?” You ask the General, knowing you’ll need his say-so before you’re party ready.

“Nearly.” The General says, his voice trailing off into a whisper as he leans over towards the Tailor. You can see her smile but it’s quickly masked, and you don’t know what he’s saying to her. Quickly the Tailor ushers you back into the bathroom and fumbles around for a few things from her kit. She turns back to you with concentration on her face and soon the appearance of your dress begins to change. The red color fades away and is replaced with an inky black color, and the silver detailing morph into gold detailing. Soon the dress remains mostly the same, except for the fact that it matches the Kefta the General is wearing. When you step out of the bathroom again, you see a pleased look upon the General’s face.

“Now you’re ready.”

»»————-　✼　————-««

Your arm was hooked with the Generals as you entered the main hall of the Grand Palace, your eyes immediately traveling to all the ornate decorations covering the walls. Decorated window curtains, glass chandeliers, a wide ballroom laid out in front of you. It was crowded with people, a soft Orchestra playing in the background, and soft chatter. The General wore an easy smile across his face. He was keeping up appearances, you know he didn’t want to be here. His arm held you to his side tightly, and looming before you was the throne for the King and Queen. Stood on each side of them were the Princes, Vasily stood next to the King, and Nikolai next to the Queen. The King looked positively delighted to see the General.

“General Kirigan! Good you could make it. You remember my sons Vasily and Nikolai don’t you?” The King gestured to both of the Princes, and while Vasily regarded the General with a polite smile, Nikolai’s eyes were firmly on you.

“Yes of course, allow me to introduce the Princes to my Personal Healer- Y/N.” General Kirigan sounds almost proud as he introduces you, and you bow for the Princes who both send you a smile. Although Nikolai’s smile is flirtier then this brothers, who remains polite. The Queen’s eyes trail down your gown, noticing the slight shimmer to the fabric.

“Your dress is lovely, you must have had a good Tailor.” She smiles and you blush as you take your place next to the General, your arm slipping through his with ease.

“Well actually it was a gift from Prince Nikolai. T-Thank you for such a generous gift!” You inform her shyly, feeling General Kirigan’s body go slightly rigid beside you. You carefully peek at the General, and you notice he’s locked in a heated stare-down with Prince Nikolai.

“You’re very welcome, did the color not suit you?” He asks and it’s just now that you notice the Kefta he’s wearing matched your dresses previous color perfectly.

“Oh not at all-”

“I thought it would be better for my Healer to match my Kefta, your highness.” The General cuts in, his voice polite but firm. The General says it as if you should match because you’re his Healer but you know what he’s really saying. He’s telling the Prince he wanted you to match his Kefta and not Nikolai’s, General Kirigan is saying that you belong to him and the Prince knows that.

“Of course.” The Prince’s tone is tense, and the smile on his face looks practiced. You stay firmly placed by the Generals side, offering a polite smile as the General nearly drags you away from the royalty and further into the party. You can feel the frustration washing off the General in waves, your hand curling around his bicep a little tighter as a weak attempt to calm him. Kirigan almost cant stand the sight of you wearing a dress the Prince picked for you, but seeing the Princes face when he realized the dress he picked no longer matched his Kefta, but the General’s instead was wonderful enough to make up for it.

“General? I apologize but you’re needed urgently-” A Grisha solider pushes gently through the crowd and begins to whisper hastily in the General’s ear. You see annoyance cross onto the General’s face before he shoos the Grisha away. He turns towards you, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. The small action sends shivers down your spine.

“Can you manage by yourself for a few minutes? There’s something I need to attend to, but I should be back shortly.” He whispers and you quickly offer him a nod before slipping your arm from his. General Kirigan shoots you an apologetic look before following the path the Grisha took before he disappears from sight. You hold a glass in your palm, although you’re not sure what the shimmering liquid is. You feel slightly out of place, and everyone steers clear of you. They saw you with the General, and are probably going to continue to ignore you to prevent receiving the Generals wrath.

“Y/N, right?” You hear a voice to your right and you know who it is before you even turn. Only one person is brave enough to approach somebody the General has placed an ‘unspoken’ claim on.

“Prince Nikolai.” You smile politely, taking a step to the side to create a small amount of distance from you and the Prince. He sips at his glass, a twinkling of mischievousness in his eyes.

“So tell me the real reason the color of your dress was altered. I thought we would have complimented each other nicely.” His voice is smooth like honey, his eyes a cool amber. It’s not that you find the Prince unattractive, quite the opposite actually. You just aren’t interested in him that way, and his good looks could never compare to General Kirigan. The Prince is clean cut and refined, while the General is rugged and untamed. They’re opposites in every way, and you just can’t be attracted to anybody else. Prince Nikolai could never compare to the General.

“I apologize Prince Nikolai, but I wanted to match the General.” You say with ease, finally allowing yourself to take a sip of the mystery drink in your hand. A look you can’t place briefly crosses over Prince Nikolai’s face, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he looked hurt.

“I see.” Is all he says and for the next few minutes you feel a tense silence before a hand presses against the small of your back. You turn your head and nearly breathe a sigh of relief.

“General.” You smile, although his eyes are firmly on Prince Nikolai. His hand gently pulls you closer to his side, and your heart races the tiniest bit faster when his hand curls around your hip to rest there. You know you and the General aren’t together, but the placement of his hand tells people otherwise. You lean further into his side, and you can feel his body relax ever-so-slightly as you do so. When the Orchestra plays a slow song, General Kirigan glances down at you with a raised brow.

“Prince Nikolai, if you’ll excuse us.” General Kirigan says when you notice other couples moving to the dance floor, including the King and Queen. He turns then and leads you out to the ballroom floor, his hand pressing against your lower back, holding your chest flush with his. He takes your hand with his free hand and soon you are both gently swaying to the music. The lights in the ballroom dim, the stars twinkling outside becoming even brighter.

“General, could I ask you a question?” You ask softly, relaxing into his embrace. When you hear him hum softly in response you turn your head up to look at him, he towers over you. You nibble on your bottom lip, your heart beginning to race like mad in your chest. His grip on your palm shifts to allow his fingers to lace through yours gently.

“Why does Prince Nikolai make you so...upset?” You ask, and deep down you know the answer. You just need him to say it. General Kirigan’s eyes flicker to meet yours, an expression on his face that you can’t read. His body presses more firmly against yours when his hold on your lower back tightens, pulling you even closer to him then you were before. You wished you could stay here in this moment with him forever, just the two of you and nobody else. You know that in your heart, you’ve fallen in love with General Kirigan but you doubt he’d ever feel the same way.

“Because I dislike the amount of attention he gives you.” General Kirigan admits, his eyes turning away from yours. You thumb rubs circles over the back of his hand subconsciously as your mind tries to grasp what he just said.

“Prince Nikolai could devote his entire life to attempting to impress me, and it would make no difference General.” You say softly, drawing his gaze back to yours. Your faces are nearly touching, your noses brushing against each others as you lean up on your tippy toes to be closer to him.

“Why not?” He can’t help himself as he asks, surely there’s not a chance you could ever feel for him what he feels for you. Part of him hates himself for being so weak, for allowing his heart to care for you, for allowing a weakness to crawl into his heart.

“Because he could never mean to me what you mean to me General, no matter how hard he tries...he could never be you.” You whisper softly, your cheeks burning hot and your eyes refusing to meet his. General Kirigan feels every emotion he’s tried to push away flood through him then, joy, excitement, glee, pure happiness. A small smile overtakes his face as he leans down to whisper in your ear for the second time tonight.

“Aleksander.”

“What?” You’re startled to say the least, pulling back to look into his eyes. Did he just...?

“That’s my name.” He clarifies, a full smile on his face now. You feel your heart pounding heavily in your chest when you suddenly hear a loud explosion. Startled, you push yourself into General- Aleksander’s chest. His arms curl around your body as the floor to ceiling windows are thrown open, and fireworks are seen outside. Immediately people flood out onto the Palace garden to view the fireworks, and Aleksander is gently leading you outside with them. Your hand is still locked with his as your head tips up to watch the colors explode in the sky. The Alkemi really pulled all the stops for this firework show. Your breath is stolen right from your lungs as you watch the fireworks go off, but soon you feel Aleksander’s fingers turning your face to look at him. Your eyes lock onto his before you’re leaning forward to connect your lips to his.

His arms wrap around your torso to pull you against him tighter, your arms flying up around his shoulders. You hear the fireworks exploding above you and the cheering of the crowd around you, but soon all of them fade away until it’s just you and Aleksander out in the garden alone. You don’t notice the people cheering for the fireworks around you, and you certainly don’t notice Prince Nikolai eyeing you with a broken heart from across the garden. He’s heard much of your victories in battle, and he knows more about you then you thought. When you part from Aleksander, you see a smile on his face and you know that same smile is mirrored on your own face.

»»————-　✼　————-««

By the time you make it back into Aleksander’s room, the moon is at it’s peak in the sky but you don’t feel tired. You stand shyly in his doorway, usually this is around the time you’d bid the General goodnight and begin the short trek to your room. But you’re not ready to say goodnight, you’re not ready for tonight to be over just yet and you can only hope he isn’t either. You bite the inside of your cheek just as you turn to head back into the hallway.

“Leaving so soon?” You hear his voice cut through the silence, and when you turn you see hurt flashing in his eyes. Does he want you to stay?

“I assumed you’d want me to go...like I normally do.” You say softly, your cheeks burning hot.

“Stay.” Is all he says, and it’s all you need to hear. You take a few steps into his room, shutting the door softly behind you. Aleksander crosses the room to you, his hands cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips back onto his. Your hands grab at the lapels of his Kefta, drawing him ever closer to you. His lips move languidly against yours before the kiss grows more desperate, his hands yanking your legs around his waist as he lifts you easily. His palms rest on the globes of your ass, quickly turning you and placing you down on the desk, not caring about the papers that are sent scattering off the desk. Your hands are trembling as your fingers work to unfasten the buttons of his Kefta. His hands don’t know where to touch first, gently grasping at the underside of your breasts before trailing down your curves, feeling how the dress hugs you so perfectly.

“G-General!” You gasp as his lips latch onto your pulse point, his hands digging into your hips. You finally unbutton his Kefta completely, pushing the fabric from his shoulders as soon as it’s freed. You yank at his dress shirt until its untucked from his pants, and his hands reach up your back to pull at the zipper securing your dress.

“Desperate?” Aleksander teases as he slowly pulls the zipper down your dress, the shoulders falling down your arms. You nod frantically, in truth you’ve never felt this desperate for anybody in your whole life. Your palms cup his cheeks, pulling his lips back to yours as his hands pull your dress down your body until it bunches at your waist. You’re practically panting against his lips as one of Aleksander’s hands slides up your thigh before he pulls away from you. He pulls back, just far enough that your lips can’t reach his. You try anyway, leaning forward and chasing his lips with an open mouth. He chuckles softly but stays just out of reach.

“What’s wrong?” You whine, your hands resting on his shoulders. Aleksander has a smile on his face, his hands are still on your hips, holding you tightly. He can’t believe that you’re here in front of him, letting him kiss you, letting him undress you. If only you knew all of the terrible things he’s done with the very same hands that are touching you, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Aleksander brushes that thought away.

“Nothing, I just wanted to take in the moment.” He smiles but you groan, pulling helplessly at his shirt. He chuckles before leaning back towards you, pressing his lips to yours again. He loves that you’re so eager for him, so needy for him. Aleksander finishes pushing your dress down your legs, leaving you in nothing more than a pair of panties. His hands reach up to cup the underside of your breasts, his lips moving quickly against yours. Your hands reach to the hem of his shirt, and you part briefly to pull his dress shirt over his head.

“Sure about this?” Aleksander mumbles against your lips as his hand dips into your panties to drag a finger through your drenched folds. You nod helplessly against his lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders when he pushes a lewd finger into your tight opening. He thrusts his finger into you quickly, loving the desperate whines coming from your lips.

“Words please.” He says softly, quickly pressing a second finger into you. Your nails press crescent moons into his shoulders when he crooks his fingers into you, making you squeal.

“Yes, yes I’m sure about this.” You gasp, his thumb making contact with your clit and rubbing tight little circles. Your lips press firmly to his again, and he swallows all of your moans. Aleksander groans softly when he feels you grind your hips into his hand, your back arching as his other hand slides up your stomach to pinch your nipple.

“God all I want is you Aleksander-” You moan, saying his real name for the first time. Hearing you moan his name has shivers trembling down his back, and his fingers pulling out of your tight heat. Your hands are reaching for the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the button before you give up and Aleksander is swatting your hands away. He quickly undoes his pants and reaches into them to pull his hardening cock out. With one hand, he rips your panties from your body, leaving you naked and sprawled across his desk. It’s not a sight he’ll ever forget. He steps into your spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other hand on your hip as he presses his tip against your slippery folds. Your hands pull his chest against yours as you press your face into his neck when he pushes into you. Both of you release a moan simultaneously when you feel him stretching you open.

“Please tell me this isn’t a one time thing-”

“Stop talking.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours as he continues to work himself inch by inch into you. You mewl against his lips as he bottoms out, his tip nestled against the spot that makes your toes curl. It burns just a bit, but you’re still panting against him as he stays completely still inside you. You try to pull your hips back but his hands lock you in place, a playful smile on his face as he watches you roll your hips. His pupils are blown open in lust as he holds you against him, and he feels you growing wetter by the second. You want him to move so badly, you feel tears of frustration pushing at the backs of your eyes as you weakly try to once again get him to move inside you.

“Move please.” You beg shamlessly and Aleksander presses a quick kiss to your lips.

“You have to promise me something first.” He says softly and you groan, rolling your hips desperately again. He’s so hard inside you, you can feel your walls squeezing him tightly.

“Anything!” You nearly cry out, you ignore him when you hear him chuckle softly.

“Promise me that you’re mine. I can’t have anybody else seeing you this way.” Aleksander growls, starting to feel a little impatient himself. Your hands pull his bare chest against yours, your lips a hair’s distance away from his.

“I promise. I’m yours, only yours.” You promise, your hips wriggling against his once more. Seemingly satisfied, Aleksander pulls his hips back and slams back into you, causing you to cry out as he sets a brutal pace. He slams into you, ramming his tip against your g-spot repeatedly. You cry out as his lips latch onto your neck, leaving bruises in his wake as he bites and suckles any skin he can find. Your arms wind around his shoulders as he slams into you, reducing you to nothing more than a boneless moaning mess underneath him. Your lips press to his and you kiss him with a fiery passion, your body rocking against his. Suddenly Aleksander pulls out, gently yanking you off the desk to bend you over it. Your toes barely touch the ground before he’s sliding into you again, taking you roughly from behind. You hear him hiss through clenched teeth as his hand runs up your spine to twist your hair around his hand. He yanks you up onto your elbows by your hair, holding you in place as he keeps his brutal pace.

“Oh yes, yes-” All you can do is cry out and moan underneath him, all of your thoughts reduced to nothing more than endless praises to his cock. His grip on your hair loosens before your upper body collapses against the desk again, and his hands move instead to your hips to draw your body back against him to meet his thrusts. Pulling you back against him allows him to ram even deeper inside you, and you can feel his tip hit your cervix every time he thrusts into you. One of his hands reaches around your body to pinch and roll your clit and as soon as he does you’re crying out and moaning like a bitch in heat. His teeth are clenched as he groans above you, you feel absolutely heavenly.

“Fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out helplessly, your hip bones screaming in pain every time they’re rammed against the edge of the desk. Aleksander doesn’t slow down even for a second, continuing to brutally pound into you, desperate to chase his own release. Aleksander yanks your torso up so that your back is pressed to his chest and one of his hands reaches down to roll your clit. You cry out desperately as your orgasm washes through you, causing you to clamp down around him tightly. Aleksander fucks up into you, slamming into your overstimulated body until you’re violently trembling and soon he’s cumming in hot spurts. Your exhausted body nearly collapses to the floor when he pulls out and steps away. Aleksander immediately reaches forward to catch you before you crumple to the floor.

He scoops you into his arms and gently carries you to the bed, and you practically melt into the mattress. You see concern pooling in his eyes as he pulls the blankets over you, his thumbs brushing over the bruises on your neck and shoulders, plus the purple bruises on your hipbones from the desk. He leans down to press his lips to your gently and you smile into the kiss.

“I know that look, stop worrying. I can Heal myself in the morning, I’m too tired now.” You reassure him and his worry eases a bit before he’s standing to turn out all of the lights and slide into the bed next to you. Aleksander reaches over to pull your limp body against his chest. Pressing a kiss to your head, he holds you against him tightly.

“Did I go too hard?” He asks into the silence and you nuzzle into his warm chest.

“It was perfect Aleksander.” You promise, pressing a kiss against his chest. He relaxes then with you in his arms. Soon he hears your breathing even out and he knows you’re asleep. Aleksander knows by now that he’s falling in love with you, but for your sake he has to keep his distance. He’ll have to find a new Healer, no matter how much it pains him to do so. If anybody found out the Black Heretic loved somebody, you’d be in grave danger and frankly, Aleksander is afraid of what he’d do if he ever lost you. His heart breaks when he remembers what he has to do tomorrow, but luckily it isn’t tomorrow yet and he can enjoy laying here with you sleeping in his arms.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #general kirigan #general kirigan smut #the darkling #the darkling smut #the darkling x you #darkling x you #aleksander kirigan smut #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova smut

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Text

Cake Off

Happy birthday, Finn O'Hara! Here's to hoping all your wishes come true <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Marlene waved to the camera as she wove a small whisk into her bun; behind her, five young men sat in front of a well-lit industrial kitchen. “Hello, Lions, and welcome back to Lion Pride! I’m your host, Marlene McKinnon, and we’re here today to celebrate someone we all love very much.”

“Some more than others,” Leo corrected.

“Today is Finn O’Hara’s 25thbirthday,” Marlene continued. “And my gift to him was letting him pick what our next video was going to be. Being the agent of chaos we know and love, he chose to force his friends to make him birthday cakes. Cap, Knutty, I know you two are feeling pretty confident about this. Tremzy, Kasey, and Loops, how are we feeling today?”

Logan’s expression was rather pained. “Can I apologize in advance?”

“I have…a history with ovens,” Kasey said carefully. “Kind of like Britain’s history with the rest of the world, except I’m the rest of the world and the oven wins nine times out of ten.”

“I don’t bake,” Remus sighed. “This is going to be an adventure. Can I leave if I already got him a present?”

“Nope!” Marlene chirped. “To your stations, everyone!”

The five of them trooped to the countertops, which had been covered with a colorful assortment of baking supplies; Logan’s smile grew even more nervous. “Is there a guidebook, or something?”

Marlene ruffled his hair as she passed. “Where’s the fun in that? You have two hours to make a unique birthday cake. On your marks—”

Kasey went pale. “Wait—”

“—get set—”

“Marlene, please,” Remus begged.

“—go!”

“Oh my god,” Logan muttered. “Uh, I don’t have a recipe.”

Marlene’s grin was wicked. “That’s the extra bonus fun.”

Leo paused from where he was measuring flour into a sifter and raised his hand. “Finn’s not actually tasting everyone’s cakes, right? ‘Cause making him sick on his birthday seems a bit mean.”

“He only has to try one bite of each,” Marlene assured him as she stopped by Sirius’ station, where he was gathering his ingredients in a line. “Cap, what are you making today?”

“Vanilla with chocolate frosting. I know the recipe by heart, but I only make it when I’m stressed.” A furrow appeared between his brows before he straightened up and raised his voice. “Hey, someone stress me out!”

“Playoffs!” Kasey shouted from across the room. All five men immediately hurried to knock on the wooden cabinets.

“Thanks!” Sirius gave him a thumbs-up and Kasey winked.

“And somebody won’t be sleeping tonight,” Remus muttered, flicking sugar at Kasey. “Thanks, Bliz.”

Logan was still bracing himself against the countertop when Marlene arrived at his table. “How’re you feeling, Tremz? I see you haven’t chosen any ingredients.”

“There’s a very fine line between making your boyfriend a birthday cake and poisoning him,” Logan said after a moment. “And I think I’m about to find out where it is.”

“What are you making?”

“I don’t know yet. Whatever happens, happens.”

“Fair enough,” Marlene laughed as she moved on. “Leo?”

“I’m gonna make a lemon cake,” he said with a proud smile as he mixed the dry ingredients. “And it’s going to be delicious.”

“Do you bake at home very often? You sound confident.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “For special occasions, yeah. I vaguely know what I’m doing, so I feel pretty good.”

“How do you think Logan’s cake will turn out?”

Leo paused and glanced up. A beat of silence passed before he bit his lower lip. “I think it’s a really good thing that Finn has two boyfriends that are making him cakes.”

“Rude,” Logan grumbled as he dumped another cupful of flour into a bowl to Sirius’ obvious horror. He stuck his tongue out. “Don’t give me that look, Cap, this cake is going to be fucking amazing.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows and turned back to his own batter. “If you say so.”

Logan stood on his toes and poured the next cup directly over Sirius’ head in a poof of white. The studio went silent. With a cough, a bit of flour puffed from Sirius’ mouth. “Cap?” Kasey ventured.

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Mhmm.” He slowly took a towel off the oven door and wiped his face with it, then whipped around and snapped it at Logan’s thigh—it connected with a sharp sound, followed by a yelp as Logan shoved Leo in front of him as a makeshift shield. “You can’t hide behind him forever!”

“Remember, you only have two hours!” Marlene called as she dodged a patch of flour on the floor. Sirius scowled and put the towel back down on the counter; Logan backed away to his station with a suspicious glare. “Loops, how are you?”

“I’m minding my own business,” he said innocently. “Staying in my lane. Paying no attention to the idiots behind the curtain, if you will.”

“Impressive. What are you making for our wonderful Harzy?”

“Spite cake.”

“What?”

“Spite cake,” he repeated with a shadow of a smile. “It’s carrot cake, but with no special ingredient of love or appreciation, because he knows how much I hate baking and he’s been making fun of me over text all morning.”

Leo frowned. “Weren’t you two bonding over how much you hate carrot cake when we went to lunch yesterday?”

“Hence the name,” Remus said as he pulled a cheese grater out of the lineup.

“And last, but certainly not least, Kasey.” Marlene leaned against the edge of his table. “How’s it going over here?”

“So far, so good.” He eyed his batter and poked one of the lumps with a fork. “Does this look ready to you?”

“Seems a bit wet, to be honest.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Do people put milk in cake batter?” On the other end of the kitchen, Sirius and Leo shared a look.

Marlene patted his arm. “Good luck, Bliz.”

The camera cut for a moment—when it returned, the three bakers on the far end seemed to be even more flustered than before. “You have one hour left!” someone off-screen announced.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Logan held his spatula up. The batter remained stuck to it in a doughy lump. “Is this supposed to happen?”

Leo’s eyes flickered between Sirius, who was clearly shocked into silence, and Logan, who was growing more distressed by the second. “Sure, honey.”

“Baby, it looks like jello,” Remus called as he shook his mixing bowl with a nervous glance to Sirius. “Why does it look like jello?”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered as he crossed the room; the second he looked over Remus’ shoulder, his eyes widened. “How did you…?”

“I don’t know.”

“You put flour in, right?”

“Hey, no helping!” Kasey protested, swatting Sirius on the shoulder with an oven mitt. “We all fail on our own merit here. Tremy’s making concrete, Loops has jello, and I’ve got soup, so you and Knutty can fuck off back to your perfect batter and let us suffer in peace!”

“Jesus, Bliz, did you put water in that?”

“No! I put butter and milk in!”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“One hour left!” Marlene shouted.

“Fuck it, it’s good enough.” Remus grabbed the nearest cake pan and dumped his batter in, then put it in the oven. He turned the heat on and faced the camera guiltily. “Harzy, I know this was meant to spite you, it really was just meant to be a carrot cake. Not…that.”

Logan sprinkled a handful of chocolate sprinkled into his mixing bowl. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he singsonged. “But I know I’m doing it poorly!”

“Oh my god,” Remus said suddenly as he licked some of his batter off his finger. “Oh my—oh my god.”

Kasey looked up from pouring his batter into a pan in mild alarm. “What?”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible. Here, try it.”

Kasey put his cake in the oven before swiping a bit off and tasting it. His whole face scrunched. “What?”

“I know,” Remus laughed, passing the spatula to Logan. “It’s like getting punched with a cinnamon stick.”

“I can feel it in my nose,” Logan coughed. “Here, try mine.”

Leo regarded them with a healthy amount of disbelief. “Why are you all tasting it if you know it’s bad?”

“Because Marlene needs workable content.”

“Do it for the vine.”

“Because I’m a dumbass, rookie.” Kasey lifted the spatula up. “Cap, your fiancé made toxic sludge in cake form. Want some?”

Sirius hesitated, then sighed and headed over. Leo threw his hands in that air. “You, too?”

“What else am I supposed to—” Sirius faltered with a harsh exhale and braced his hands against the counter, licking his lips. “How many eggs did you put in that?”

“Four? Five?”

“How much cinnamon?”

“A teaspoon?”

Sirius took a fortifying breath through his nose. “Teaspoon or tablespoon?”

“Tablespoon,” Kasey answered for him. “Definitely a tablespoon. Try mine.”

“You two are never allowed in a kitchen again,” Sirius said, though he swiped his finger along the inside of Kasey’s bowl and tasted his batter with a grimace. “Ugh. It’s just melted butter.”

“How did you make it taste like salty butter and nothing else?” Logan asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Well, Tremzy, I put salt and butter in it.”

Leo’s phone timer went off and he opened the oven door; four faces turned toward him in shock as he pulled a golden cake out and checked the center with a toothpick. Logan closed his eyes and bent closer, taking a deep inhale. “I wish the viewers could smell this, because it’s heaven.”

“Can it be my birthday instead?” Kasey asked. “Please?”

“Get back, you hyenas!” Leo whacked him lightly on the hand with a spoon when he reached out to poke the cake. “That oven was 350 degrees!”

Sirius glanced up at the camera. “That’s 177 degrees, for all you smart people out there.”

“Boo, Celsius.” Remus kissed his cheek. “You smell like sugar.”

“How much time do you all have left on your cakes?” Marlene asked from her perch next to the sink.

Logan, Remus, and Kasey shared a look before Logan turned back to her. “I don’t know?”

“You can’t answer that with another question,” she laughed.

“Ten minutes,” he guessed.

“Whenever it starts to smell good,” Remus said. “Though I doubt that’s going to happen.”

Kasey cocked his head and scanned Leo’s cake for a second. “When it starts looking like that.”

“It won’t,” Leo informed him.

“Damn, Knutty, okay.”

Marlene shook her head. “We’re going to cut filming until everyone’s cakes are out of the oven, but in the meantime we’ve got some special messages for our favorite redhead.”

A banner reading Happy Birthday, Finn! appeared on the screen with a burst of confetti before the usual studio replaced it, with its white walls and folding chairs. Dumo crossed one leg over the other with a soft smile. “One thing I admire about Finn is his tenacity. When he wants something, he’ll go for it with his whole heart.”

“I love his humor,” Leo said in the next short video. He was smiling as well, and had a faint blush on his freckled cheeks. “And the way he makes breakfast in the mornings. All the little things he does to make the people he loves happy. And he really does love with his whole heart. There’s no holding back with him.”

“Finn?” Sirius thought for a moment. “He’s a good person. I know that might sound lame, but he’s one of those people that you meet that always makes you feel happy, and confident, and supported. Anyone who meets him should count themselves lucky.”

Logan’s face was filled with nothing but affection. “I love his patience and his kindness. Whether that was helping me work on my English in college, or making the rookies feel welcome, or even the way he talks to complete strangers when they ask for directions on the street. Everything about him is kind.”

“Ah, jeez.” Remus bit his lower lip. “I think—I think what I admire most about Finn is that he never lets anyone else define who he is. He’s comfortable in himself and makes everyone around him feel safe. It’s sappy, but it’s true. He’s one of my best friends and I’m grateful for him every day.”

“He’s one of the most reliable people I’ve ever met,” James said. “Both on and off the ice. He will be there to support his friends in any capacity and I think we all need to be a little more like Finn that way.”

“Great player.” Arthur nodded. “Great player, and an even better teammate. I can put O’Hara anywhere on the ice and he’ll throw everything he’s got into doing his best. I can’t think of a single Lion who doesn’t love being on the same shift as him.”

Talker grinned, leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head. “Finn just loves hockey. He takes it seriously, of course, but he loves being out there with us and I’m always happy when we’re on a line together. He goes out there every night and has a blast. I admire a lot about him, but especially that.”

“It’s hard to pick one specific thing that I admire about him,” Kasey said, shifting in his chair. “He’s Finn. He’s annoying as all hell, and I love him for it. I’m not sure. Can I make a list?”

“Harzy is very cool,” Olli laughed. “Very cool and very fun to be around. He has a quick wit and truly cares about all of us.”

Kuny raised his eyebrows. “What I like about Harzy? Oh, everything. Everything. He is good friend, good teammate, always there when we need him. Good for Tremzy and Knutty, too. He would turn red like fire engine if he heard me. Don’t tell him I say that.”

The video changed to a wide view of the whole team as they waved to the camera. “Happy birthday, Harzy!” they chorused. “Bitch ass moves!”

The kitchen was much cleaner when the video resumed; all the cooking supplies had been taken away, leaving five hockey players with their cakes in front of them. Leo’s cake was a bit lopsided, though the yellow frosting was cheerful and even—next to him, Logan’s cake looked more like a squished loaf of bread. Sirius’ was plain and elegant, while Kasey’s frosting was still dripping as the camera zoomed in on it.

“Wow,” Finn said after a moment of silence from his seat at the main table, where five slices of cake had been placed on small plates with a label for each name. “Just…wow.”

“You can start with whichever one you want,” Marlene told him.

“I think I’ll save Cap and Leo’s for last. Uh, Kase, what happened here?”

Kasey sighed. “I wish I knew.”

Finn gave it a wary look, then took a bite; his chewing slowed to a stop almost immediately and Logan’s shoulders started to shake from his suppressed laughter. “You know it’s burnt on the outside and not cooked on the inside, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Just checking.” With great effort, he swallowed. “Why is it wet?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, man.”

Finn took the next plate, then paused. “Re, I love you, but…”

Remus shook his head. “I know.”

“I’m genuinely afraid to try this.”

“You should be.”

The second it touched his tongue, Finn started laughing. “Jesus, it’s a straight shot of cinnamon. Why is it crunchy?”

“It’s carrot cake!”

“You know I hate carrot cake!”

“Look, I gave it my best shot. It really wasn’t supposed to do…” He gestured at the plate. “That.”

“Lo, baby, please tell me yours is better than the last two.”

Logan thought for a moment. “It was made with love and that’s all that matters.”

Finn took a deep breath before taking a bite. A range of emotions washed over his face—pleasant surprise, then confusion, then horror, and finally disbelief. “I…what?”

“I don’t even know.”

He swallowed, then ate another bite. “Oh, bad idea. This—are there chocolate chips in here? And almonds?”

“Yeah. You like those, right?”

“Usually, yes. It’s kind of got the texture of fruitcake, but—” Finn broke off and picked the slice up, giving it a shake. Not even a crumb fell out of place, and the rest of the boys burst out laughing. “Lo. Logan. Light of my life, what the fuck?”

“Happy birthday?”

“This is the best birthday present ever. Alright, Cap, your turn.” He took a piece of Sirius’ cake and nodded. “Yep, that’s cake.”

Sirius blinked at him. “And?”

Finn shrugged. “It’s cake. Classic flavors, good texture. I like it. Definitely tastes like a cake you would make.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“He’s calling you basic,” Kasey said, patting Sirius’ shoulder sympathetically. “But hey, at least yours was cooked all the way.”

“And now for boyfriend number two,” Finn continued.

Leo rolled his eyes. “Boyfriend number two.”

“Oh, that’s so good,” Finn groaned around a mouthful of cake. His eyebrows pitched. “I love it.”

“What about it?” Marlene prompted.

“For starters, it’s cooked all the way through. The lemon is freakin’ amazing, and the frosting isn’t melting off the sides or anything. I can’t even taste everyone else’s anymore. It’s a helluva cake. Happy birthday to me. Will you make this every day?”

“No,” Leo said, though there was a pleased flush on his face. “But maybe on the weekend.”

Finn scraped the last of the crumbs off his plate. “Alright, everyone, come get a piece of this magic. Thank you for doing this, by the way. I know three of you hate baking.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Logan admitted as he settled himself on one of Finn’s thighs with a slice of his own and kissed his temple. “Sorry for almost poisoning you. Oh, that is tasty.”

“I love you anyway. I think Loops and Bliz were actually the closest to doing that, so you’re all good.” Finn raised his eyebrows and craned his neck over Logan’s shoulder. “Speaking of…”

“Lasagna or chicken piccata?” Remus asked. Sirius took advantage of his moment of distraction by stealing a bite off his plate and received a playful glare in response, though it was soothed by a kiss on his cheek.

“Lasagna, please.”

“Does Friday work?”

Finn gave him a thumbs-up. “Sorry, Harzy,” Kasey said as he carefully got the last bits of frosting off his fork. “I have no marketable skills to apologize with. You don’t want me anywhere near a stove or an oven.”

A gleam lit in Finn’s eye. “Will you get in all your pads and play chicken with Knutty and I?”

“For the twentieth time—”

“It’s my birthday,” he wheedled, pouting his lower lip out with the Bambi eyes turned to full blast.

Kasey sighed. “Fine.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Thanks for joining us for our birthday celebration,” Marlene said with a smile. “The best estimations of these recipes are linked on our website, with a few tweaks to make sure none of your loved ones get food poisoning this August. Have a great day, Lions!”

#finn ohara #leo knut #logan tremblay #kasey winter #sirius black #remus lupin #marlene mckinnon #sweater weather #vaincre #my fic #fanfic #finn's birthday #coops #o'knutzy #social media #lion pride #birthday cake

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

Note

“Why are you so nice to me” wakko or yakko max

To Wakko's delight, his brother kept good on his promise. Weeks passed and his brother devoted several days to restoring their bond just as it once was (the other days Yakko spent with Dot or with the both of them).

Heck, Wakko was so secure in his brother not abandoning him when Yakko asked if he could start up writing to Max again (at a much slower pace than before, he promised), Wakko said yes (barely) without hesitation. He knew that Max made him happy... and that he kinda owed it to Yakko to let him hang out with him again, as their little "not exactly falling out" was his fault (to him, anyway).

Everything was starting to seem... good- perfect, even.

However, Dot's birthday was rapidly approaching and Yakko was starting to get ideas.

"You know what we should do?" He said, lounging on the couch in the sunroom. "We should throw a ball for your birthday, Dot."

Dot perked up from her book. "What? Why? We never held balls for our birthdays before."

Yakko rolled his eyes. "That's because Grandma ruins everything. In this book I'm reading it says it was tradition for the royal family to hold big celebrations on their birthdays. I think it'd be fun- plus a great opportunity for you two to start making some friends."

Oh.

This again.

Wakko tried to laugh it off. "You'd have to get mum and dad to agree, and they've been pretty busy with the flooding in the west."

"Bah, that's mostly dealt with at this point. I'm sure they could use the break too," Yakko countered.

"B-but mom's coronation wasn't even that long ago," Wakko argued.

"It was over three months ago," Dot rolled her eyes. "I think a party would be fun," she looked to Yakko.

"Didn't you have fun at mom's coronation?" Yakko asked his middle sibling.

"Well I- I suppose I did..." Wakko thought back to the massive chalk drawing he had covered the floor with. It was pretty fun, and it made a lot of people happy.

"See? I'm sure a party in Dot's honor would be fun all the same- plus, making friends is great, I'm sure you'll love it," Yakko said with a reassuring smile on his face, though Wakko still wasn't quite convinced. However, he could see how much both of his siblings wanted this (even though the idea was only seconds old) and who was he to say no?

"Alright, I guess we can do that," He said, which made Dot clap in excitement as she began to detail everything she'd want for a party in her honor.

Wakko had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

As expected, their parents were ecstatic at the idea, and they spared no expense in attempts to create what they believed a much-needed celebration for the people of Warnerstock and their allies.

And to say it truly was Dot's creative vision would not be false. There were a lot of pinks- a lot, a lot of pinks. Though mostly tasteful, if you saw it it was hard to look away from.

But still, Wakko was happy for her, she was having the time of her life planning it all out with their dad, who was equally happy to spoil his little girl.

However, he knew deep down that despite what Yakko had sworn, her party was probably going to be very different from the coronation. He hoped it would be fun, but the more he watched decorations being put into place and talks about the guests and feasts the more he was beginning to worry.

He didn't say anything though, as the rest of his family seemed far too happy for him to want to bother them with his plight. They deserved this break, he was probably just being dramatic anyways. He'd be fine- and maybe make a friend just like Yakko said he would.

Wakko did his best to remain optimistic, despite the knots forming deep within.

It wasn't too long before the grand day arrived. Wakko had thought they had pulled out all the stops just for decorating but the day itself was insane too. Dot was showered in presents and even was taken out to town with William to go shopping for anything her heart desired, meanwhile Yakko, Wakko, and Lena stayed behind and supervised the final touches on the decorations.

Okay- really only Lena supervised, but Yakko and Wakko were technically there too. They didn't stay with her long, as she gave them a list of things to check up on so she could talk to some people which they were fine with.

Together, the brothers walked through the massive dining hall, checking curtains, flowers, vases, tapestries, etc. to make sure they were in the exact right places (not that the list really said where they were supposed to be) and checked them all off.

"So... are you looking forward to tonight?" Yakko asked, checking off 'left-most curtains'.

"Oh- uh- Yeah! I am... are you?" Wakko quickly said.

"Oh yeah, totally, it'll be great to see Max. It's been a while... you're still cool with that, right?" Yakko glanced down at him before checking another thing off.

Wakko nodded. "I won't try to prank or drive him away this time, I swear."

Yakko snorted. "I know you know better, I'm just asking if you're okay with me hanging out with him for tonight instead of you."

"Yeah, I am. You did say I should make friends after all," Wakko said, fiddling with gloves. Yakko looked away from the checklist and gave his little brother a side hug.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" Yakko asked.

"Yeah, yeah," It was Wakko's turn to laugh.

"I'm serious-" Yakko let go and punched Wakko's arm lightly. "You're doing great. You should be proud of yourself too, you've come a long way."

Wakko smiled a little. "Maybe."

Yakko chuckled. "Well, it looks like we're just about done with this list. Wanna go turn it in to mom and go get changed into uncomfortable suits and greet guests for hours on end, or do you wanna just double and triple check the list until the last second?"

"Definitely check the list," Wakko laughed too.

And so the brothers did, until Lena caught wind of their shenanigans and forced them to start getting ready for the party (though they did cut a lot of time so technically they still regarded it as a win). At least those outfits weren't the worst they've ever worn (they were pretty confident nothing would ever top how itchy and miserable their funeral outfits were). Still, standing around and greeting people was a dreadfully boring job, not to mention awkward until their father and Dot eventually came to join them and actually do their job properly.

They knew their mom was busy, but leaving the two of them in charge was a little questionable.

Plus, after all that interaction, Wakko was starting to feel weird. Tired, but also not-? It was complicated. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone and maybe pace for a while, that'd be nice.

However, the party was to start in not too long, so he really didn't have time for that. He followed Yakko around for a while to the main party room where the people they had greeted before were all chatting amongst themselves. It wasn't too loud yet, but Wakko's tail twitched nervously as he weaved between people and conversations.

He hadn't been this nervous at the coronation- Wakko really wished he could figure out why he was feeling this way. Alas, he was unable.

He did feel a little better as Yakko and he found a spot of their own to chill in for a while, away from all the people.

"A lot of people came to this shindig, huh?" Yakko joked, "though probably no more than those who attended mom's coronation."

"Yeah..." Wakko said, trying to compare them mentally.

"More kids though, which is really good for you and Dot to make friends," Yakko said.

"Yep, yep," Wakko feigned enthusiasm.

"Are you okay..?" Yakko asked, causing Wakko to straighten out his act instantly and nod.

"Of course," he said. Yakko frowned.

"You don't have to lie you know," He remarked. Wakko bit his lip.

"M'just a little tired," he shrugged, figuring it was close enough to the truth.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Yakko asked worriedly.

Wakko nodded again. "I'll be fine, I'm probably just hungry."

Yakko laughed a little. "Alright, but you'll tell me if anything is wrong, right?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

The brothers stood in a bored silence for a while, before the rest of their family walked in and the festivities officially began.

It started with the feast, which was pretty harmless, as Wakko enjoyed talking with his family and the food was "quite excellent". The hall was filled with good cheer and hearty laughter, which he could appreciate.

However, after that, things began to blur.

It seemed only moments ago he was eating when suddenly everything was taken away and it turned into social hour. and Dot and their parents disappeared once more. He recalled Yakko asking if it was okay for him to go to Max, to which Wakko nodded and even pushed him away some. Oh god- he hoped that wasn't too aggressive.

Now he was alone. People were talking, walking, dancing, all sorts of activities. Wakko tried to take it all in, but all of the colors and sounds were starting to burn his eyes.

Friends. He was told he had to make friends.

He tried looking around for kids his age, but just turning his head made him dizzy.

Hmph.

Still, he was determined to function as a normal child would so he began weaving through the rapidly shifting crowd as he had earlier, just with a much louder and more busy crowd.

Suddenly his suit was starting to feel a lot more uncomfortable than before. God- if he could just find someone-

He bumped right into a lady in a bright purple dress. He quickly stuttered an apology before scurrying away as fast as he could, not even waiting for a response.

Seriously- was his suit trying to choke him? He pulled on it desperately, but if anything it just made the pull tighter. Wakko growled to himself as he walked further and further away from whoever that lady was, until he hit the wall.

At least the marble was cool, it was starting to feel like it was a million degrees in here.

Still, it wasn't enough. he still felt hot, and stuffy- was he even breathing anymore?

...Yes, yes he was. Rather fast though- oh dear, was that his heart? oh god- what was happening? Why was the music so loud? Why was his collar so tight? When was the last time he blinked? Where were these "kids" Wakko was supposed to make friends with?

Wait- no, he could see those. A group of them- shit, they were looking at him. Wakko noticed his nail was twitching nervously- he grabbed it and forced it to stop, but the kids laughed.

Wakko ran away again, covering his ears, his face turning red and the knot in his stomach transporting itself to his throat.

"No, no, no, no. Please, not now..." He pleaded with himself, but he didn't listen, and tears started to form. Wakko looked desperately for a quick way out, but still couldn't find any- curse the size of this place.

However, as his eyes darted around anxiously, he spotted something- a table covered in a white cloth that went to the ground. Without hesitation, Wakko went to it, making sure no one saw him before crawling underneath.

Wakko stayed there, covering his ears and rocking back and forth awhile, cursing his stupid brain for making these stupid tears that wouldn't end. He also cursed the stupid music for being too loud and the guests for being so many.

He wanted Mom.

He wanted mom to come and find him and scoop him up and take him to the playroom and sit in the rocking chair and rock him to sleep.

However, she didn't come.

No one did.

He was alone, and these tears weren't making him any calmer. Everything still felt so loud- it wasn't this loud before- he loved mom's coronation. Why was his brain so stupid?!

The young prince continued like that for a while, before someone came and lifted the tablecloth. He tried to make a run for it, but the someone grabbed his arm before he could- Wakko turned to look at their face and-

It was Max.

"S-sorry, I probably shouldn't... grab you," He let go, and Wakko scooted back, though he didn't leave. Max saw this as an invitation and joined him under the table.

"A-are- uh... Are you okay?" Max asked. Wakko looked away and shrugged.

"Right... not much of a talker..." Max recalled. Wakko nodded once, though he instantly regretted it, as it made his head feel weird.

Max tapped his fingers on his knee as he tried to figure something out. Wakko avoided any looks the Disney Prince gave him.

"Do you want some water? I can go get you some water," Max offered. Wakko sniffled and thought about it, before nodding once more (and regretting it once more).

with that, he disappeared, though not for too long.

Wakko noticed he stopped crying.

"Here, take this," Max handed him the glass. Wakko accepted the offering, taking a long drink.

Well, that felt at least a little bit better.

He glanced at Max.

"A-aren't you supposed to be with Yakko?" he asked.

"Dot was practically begging Yakko for a dance and I let him, it's her day after all," Max chuckled.

That made sense.

Wakko looked down at the glass, tapping his finger against it and looking at the water ripple.

"Do you need to step out of the party for a sec?" Max asked.

Wakko shrugged, taking a sip.

"Here- I'll help you find an exit," Max said, getting up and holding the cloth open for Wakko.

He hesitated.

He didn't deserve this- such kindness from the guy he locked in the tower mere weeks ago- it didn't make sense.

Then again, he'd give anything to get out of here.

Wakko listening to his senses and got out.

Carefully he followed Max through the gigantic room until they eventually reached a door, through which both of them slipped out of and into a calm and dark hallway.

Instantly, Wakko felt calmed, taking a deep breath.

"Wanna sit down?" Max asked, gesturing to the couches nearby. Wakko nodded. However, instead of sitting on the couch, he chose to lay on the cool floor, even taking off his gloves so he could feel the marble with his fingers.

Max didn't say anything for a while, not seeming to mind the silence. Which was good- because Wakko didn't feel like breaking it.

After a while though, a thought nagged at his brain.

Why.

Why on earth would Max help him? After everything he did? After everything he jeopardized? It didn't make sense.

Wakko sat up. Max looked at him but didn't say anything.

Wakko sighed.

"Why-?" He paused.

"Why... are you being so nice to me?"

"You were in trouble, I couldn't ignore that," Max shrugged. Wakko frowned, putting his gloves back on.

"I-i... Aren't you mad? At least a little?" He asked.

"It wasn't my first time being locked in a room for hours on end," Max snorted.

"Y-yeah, but I tried to hurt you. And Yakko..." Wakko looked at the ground. "I know how much you mean to him."

Max blinked.

"I- uh... well-" Max struggled with his words a moment.

"I don't... blame you, I guess. It's as new to you as it is to me and with a past and family tree like yours, I guess I don't blame you for lashing out? I dunno," Max shrugged, looking away.

Huh...

"Still... you didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Trust me, I would've helped any kid I found under there, but I'm glad it was you," Max said.

Wakko looked at him, deciding whether or not he believed that. Ultimately, he did.

"You know... Yakko talks a lot about you," Max said, piquing Wakko's interest.

"He worries a lot, but he says you're a really sweet kid, and I believe that," Max smiled a little. "You should be easier on yourself, you're still growing up you know?"

Wakko thought about that.

"I guess," He said. Max snorted.

"You know... you do seem like a pretty cool kid. I'm sorry if you ever felt I was ignoring you, I promise I'll try to make up for it too," He said.

Wakko thought about that too.

"Thanks," He said.

"I really do hope we can grow to like each other. Yakko means a lot to me and you mean a lot to him... you know?" Max blushed a little, scratching the back of his neck.

Wakko nodded, grinning a little.

"So... are we... cool?" Max asked.

Wakko thought about that as well.

"Yeah, we're cool," He said with his signature smile.

"Cool," Max grinned back. "Because I'm pretty sure Yakko might lose it if his dance with Dot ended and he can't find me."

Wakko laughed.

"Will you be alright?" Max asked, standing. Wakko nodded, getting up as well.

"I'm feeling a lot better... though I think I'll look for mum and dad," He said.

"Fair enough," Max nodded once. "Well- uh... see you around, I guess."

"See you around," Wakko laughed at his awkwardness before going back through the doors and back to the party.

Max followed soon thereafter, hoping Yakko wouldn't be too mad or worried at him for his sudden disappearance.

.o0o.

Yakko couldn't believe that a year ago today he thought his parents were dead. It baffled him honestly- he could turn his head and his parents were right there. They were never really dead- it shocked him to remember sometimes.

He also couldn't believe that only a year ago the most celebration they could share for Dot's birthday was a mini cake they had to sneak late at night.

And now look where he was- dancing in the middle of the ballroom with his little sister having the time of his life- despite the fact Dot couldn't stop giggling and he almost dropped her that one time.

However, he had to draw the line after three songs, which Dot understood, and he gave her back to their parents, hoping Max wouldn't be too mad about Dot taking up so much of his time.

"Ah, Max, there you are- sorry for dancing so long, I have a hard time saying no to her," Yakko laughed between pants, scratching the back of his neck.

"You just got done?" Max teased.

"Yeah, she really liked dancing," Yakko shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

"You look like you could use a breather," Max raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who, me? Whatever would give that idea?" He played back, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"C'mon- let's go to the balcony," Max said, taking his hand.

When they got to the door Yakko paused as he looked back at his family, unsure. However, his parents looked at him, and after giving a fair look of warning, they both gave him a thumbs up and nod of approval, and Yakko went off with his prince.

However, they didn't pick a random one, they went all the way through the halls to the usual one they'd go to when Max visited Warnerstock (the kid had a thing for balconies).

"Ahh, fresh air," Yakko embraced the cool night.

"Yep," Max embraced it too, immediately going and leaning on the rails.

"Are you liking the party?" Yakko asked.

"It's pretty good- though a little crowded, but I always know how to find some space," Max answered.

"I feel that- when my birthday rolls around, I'll make it a lot less crowded. I don't know what Dot had against having it outside, but what are you gonna do?" Yakko shrugged.

"I think Wakko would appreciate a smaller shindig," Max said, looking at the garden.

"What makes you say that?" Yakko decided to take his place next to Max also leaning against the railing.

"Ran into him- he wasn't having the best time so I helped ground him again," Max said like it was no big deal.

It was.

"Grounded him? You- managed to calm him down? Is he okay? What happened?" Yakko asked quickly.

"Woah, woah, it's okay. He's totally fine, just... overwhelmed." Max said.

"Oh... well... I'm glad he's okay," Yakko took a deep breath. "And I'm even more glad you were able to help him- that's huge... really."

He looked at him when he said that last part. Max blushed.

"I would've helped anyone, seriously," He looked away.

"Mhm, sure," Yakko teased.

"I am serious though- it probably means a lot to Wakko- he doesn't accept help easily and to allow you... it means he's starting to like you," Yakko said in all seriousness.

"That's good," Max nodded. "I really do want your family to like me- I just... don't have the best ways of showing it, I suppose."

"Hey, you're doing great so far," Yakko held his hand.

There was a moment before Yakko realized what he was doing and both boys broke the gesture.

"Haha... yeahhhh," Max looked at the wall away from Yakko.

There was a stretch of silence between the two, neither knowing what to do. Sure they knew what they wanted but... things are never as easy as just doing what you want.

"My dad and uncles like you too- if you care about that," Max decided to say.

"That's good," Yakko smiled a little, rubbing his thumb on the railing.

Another pause.

"You know- It's funny to me how when we met you thought I might too cool for you," Max remarked.

"When did I ever say that?" Yakko said.

"You called me cool at least fifty times upon first meeting me," Max play punched his arm.

"As I recall, you called me cool, so who's the real cool one here?" Yakko punched him back and the princes laughed.

"Alright, alright, you got me," Max chuckled. "I was just trying to say you were totally wrong, I don't have a cool bone in my body."

"God- you're so cool you don't even know how cool you are. Typical," Yakko sighed teasingly.

"Hey, didn't I just say you're pretty cool too?" Max accused playfully.

"Oh please, you're way cooler. No trauma and with fluffy, luxurious hair like that? Please," Yakko rolled his eyes.

"Oh puh-lease yourself. Trauma is just a cool backstory and you're home is a lot more fun and a lot less crowded and your family is a lot more cool too," Max pointed his finger at Yakko.

"You're exaggerating," Yakko pointed back.

"Nope- not at all. You're one of my first true friends and that automatically makes you very cool," Max crossed his arms.

"Oh yeah? W-well-" Yakko paused, looking at Max carefully.

A pause.

Max's dark brown eyes shined back at Yakko, reflecting the stars that surrounded them wonderfully. His fluffy and luxurious hair framed his face with perfect ease. His signature smile slowly turned into that of curiosity.

Yakko felt his heart flutter.

"I'm not as cool as you think," Yakko stepped down, looking at the ground.

Coward.

Another pause.

"..."

"Well maybe you are right- maybe I am cooler than you."

"Wha-?"

Before Yakko could finish the sentence, Max grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a kiss.

"S-see?" Max was internally "fjdkaf;sfj"-ing in his brain. "You've won- I'm a lot cooler."

"Y-yeah," Yakko could barely speak his face was as red as Wakko's hat. "You're... yeah," his face melted into a goofy grin.

"Oh god- I'm sorry- d-did you not mean that..?" Max panicked, quickly becoming embarrassed.

"N-no!" Yakko snapped to life. "I-i... I- uh..."

"I liked it," He managed to say. Max smiled.

"W-... Wanna do it again?" Yakko proposed, and Max nodded, and they shared another kiss.

Yakko knew it was corny to think, but it truly felt just like fireworks in his chest.

He liked Max- Max liked him. A part of himself was realized- and he felt alive. A good kind of alive- not the kind of alive that came from life or death situations.

"So... I guess that makes us even," Max joked. Yakko laughed.

"I guess so," He couldn't get himself to stop smiling- neither could Max. They looked at each other before bursting into laughter again.

"Man, we really should return to the party," Max said.

"Yeah, you're right," Yakko's face was starting to hurt from the smiling.

"Do- uh... do you think your parents will be cool... orrrr...?" Max asked.

"Psh, I'm sure they'll be fine," He said without hesitation.

"Cool," Max said, opening the door out of the balcony.

Yakko looked at him for a moment, trying to absorb the moment as best he could.

"You okay?" Max asked.

"Yep," Yakko said, taking a deep breath as he implanted it in his memory in his brain forever.

"C'mon, let's go before they think we've done something stupid," Yakko said, quickly joining Max and grabbing his hand before running back to join his family.

however, right before entering the party room once more, Yakko paused.

"Does this mean our friendship is basically ruined?" He asked.

Max thought about it.

"I wouldn't think of it as a ruining per se... maybe think of it as an upgrade of sorts," Max winked.

God, he was so much cooler.

"Cool," Yakko grinned, squeezing Max's hand.

"Well... uh- shall we?" Max let go and offered Yakko his arm.

Yakko thought about it.

Taking it would mean no taking it back- it would mean the whole party would basically know that they kissed (holy shit- they kissed! that was a thing that happened!). His parents, his siblings, practically the whole kingdom, and their allies.

Yakko couldn't imagine any other way to walk back in.

He took his arm.

"We shall."

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Enigmatic Feelings II

Characters: Beidou, Childe, Eula, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,402

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader’s s/o is jealous

Author’s Note: Decided to tack on two characters to the request. This is my first time writing for Eula, and I think this prompt really fit her. She really reminds me of Kaguya Shinomiya in mindset, which is kinda hilarious. I hope I wrote her well!

In case you’re wondering, I kept all the NPCs gender neutral so that the reader might interpret them as they wish.

Beidou

Beidou and her crew tended to get drunk. Like, a lot. Rowdy parties soaked in alcohol, audible from Guyun Stone Forest to Qingce Village were simply part of ship culture. Though they might’ve been loud and somewhat disorganized, there was never any sense of overstepping boundaries, and things never ended up going too far.

Or at least that’s what Beidou would’ve liked to think. Watching you and another shipmate moseying up to one another was a surprisingly unpleasant experience, and Beidou took another swig of her flask to wash out the acidic taste in the back of her mouth.

What did it even matter if someone was flirting with you? It was the end of a long haul, emotions were running high, and everyone knew that you were the captain’s partner. Everyone knew that nothing serious would come of a little flirting, and the occasional compliment or teasing remark towards you here and there had never really bothered Beidou before. She wasn’t about to be jealous of a few flirty shipmates; after all, the ability to sweet talk should probably be a requirement for signing up for piracy anyways.

Maybe it was just how blatant the flirting was, so different than the usual passing, good-natured banter. Beidou knew how well each of her shipmates could hold their liquor. She also knew how quickly norms and rules tended to be thrown out the window the moment one got plastered. Even if the shipmate meant nothing truly malicious or devious in their words, Beidou couldn’t rule out the fact that they were probably genuinely flirting.

Neither could she ignore the fact that you were distinctly flirting back. Beidou wasn’t really surprised by this turn of events, after all you’d always responded with a good natured tease at the remarks flown you way and even engaged in some meaningless flirting yourself towards the other members of the ship. It was part of ship culture after all, to be so open and careless. The sea was never calm or placid, why should her voyagers be so? Still, Beidou couldn’t deny the fact that she was uncomfortable by the current situation, protocol be damned.

A part of her wanted to go up and tell you right out; you were her partner, and she was sure that you’d be able to understand what she was feeling. Yet pride kept her at her seat, downing more liquor to distract herself from her conundrum. After all, it’d be kind of hypocritical of her to cultivate a familiar ship culture and then turn around and revoke it at the drop of a hat, wouldn’t it? Nor would it feel right to enforce rules upon others that she herself didn’t follow. It’s not like Beidou hadn’t ever flirted with or teased someone else without thinking too much about it. How could she blame her crew for following her example?

Still the sight of you and your shipmate danced in front of her eyes, urging her to do something she’d surely regret. Beidou let out a loud sigh, something that wasn’t ignored by the people around her.

“You alright captain?” Juza eyed Beidou worriedly. One of the other hard drinkers on the ship, Beidou knew that she couldn’t rely on alcohol to allay her Chief Mate’s worries.

“I’m fine!” She spoke loudly, plastering a large grin upon her face. “I was just thinking about how proud I am of all of you! How much of a tight-knit crew we are!”

Beidou could tell that she was garnering the attention of the rest of the shipmates and stood up. She had neglected to make a speech so far, so wrapped up was she in the scene playing out before her eyes. Clearing her throat Beidou held up her flask, the eager anticipation of her crewmates combining with the liquid fire in her system, causing a wave of rash confidence to run through her. At least she was an entertaining speechmaker.

“I look out upon the faces of warriors now! We may be somewhat irregular, an anomaly of the seas. However, that doesn’t change our bond, our fierce loyalty, our capabilities. I look out upon a group of people closer than family! Perhaps you’ve had brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, but tell me this! Could any of those members of your previous lives fight back to back with you? No! They could not! We are a special breed, and there will never be anyone who can understand us as we can understand each other! And we ought to never forget this! Do not forget the brotherhood forged by fire. I know that I never will!”

Cheers erupted from every corner as sailors drank gleefully. A few of the more out of commission crewmates were sobbing uglily, hugging whoever was in their vicinity and making slightly incomprehensible statements of affection and loyalty. Beidou sat down, smiling at the chaos in front of her. Yes, she really was part of a band of brothers, and there was no reason to forget or doubt that. Why was it then that she felt as if she’d been somewhat deceitful? And why was it then that her eyes once more drifted towards you and the sailor who was now enthusiastically slapping you on the back?

The rest of the night passed in a haze of alcohol, as Beidou downed drink after drink. She didn’t walk up to you, didn’t try to acknowledge the source of her unease. Why should she? It was a party after all, and there were other things to do. Passing out just as the sun was beginning its ascent once more into the sky Beidou wondered if she was always going to feel this way when anyone got slightly flirty with you. If so, well, she was in for a rough time.

The next day was greeted by a pounding headache. The sun was much too bright, and Beidou let out an annoyed yelp as she stumbled towards her window, trying to not fall flat on her face as she grasped for the curtains. Yanking on them awkwardly she had just managed to get them somewhat closed before there was a knock on her door. Cursing the captain drew herself up as much as she possibly could in her current state, hoping that her clothes didn’t look too much like she’d simply slept in them.

“Come in.”

“I thought you might want a pitcher of water.”

Your voice was soft and slightly apologetic. Letting out a sigh of relief Beidou nodded, allowing herself to stumble back towards her hammock and flop onto the blanket. Wow she had drank a lot last night. You walked over to her desk, steps too steady to be that of a hungover person. Pouring a glass of water you stared at Beidou as she drank, a question in your eyes.

“What is it? You seem to want to ask me a question.”

“Are you sure you’re up to answering?”

“Well now I won’t be able to rest until you tell me it.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled. “Was something wrong last night?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean you didn’t even walk over to me once. I was kind of surprised, to be honest.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I just want to know why you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Beidou wrinkled her nose. Her head throbbed in protest and she quickly dropped the expression, sighing before taking another drink of water. “Well, perhaps I was slightly avoiding; but it’s wasn’t your fault.”

“Whose fault was it then?”

Beidou paused, trying to gather her thoughts as she searched for an answer. “You know that I don’t mind some familiarity on this ship.”

“Yes, as you so eloquently put last night,” you giggled slightly. Ignoring the subtle tease Beidou continued on.

“Well, I mean it; but it seems like I’m not very good at following my own rules. That shipmate you were flirting with last night? I just, I don’t know. Normally I don’t mind, y’know? But this time, well, it couldn’t stop bothering me. Even though you didn’t seem to mind it at all.”

“I didn’t mind it because he was drunk off his ass.” You pointed out, voice still soft and understanding. Taking one of Beidou’s hands in yours you leaned over to press a quick kiss on your partner’s forehead. “I’m sorry to hear it was bothering you though.”

“It’s not just that,” Beidou admitted. It seemed the floodgates of her thoughts had opened, and now she felt the need to tell you everything. “It’s that I couldn’t even follow my own rules, that I couldn’t stop myself from feeling… almost resentful. A captain, a good leader, they follow their own rules. It’s the only way to whip all the idiots into shape. But I couldn’t do that, I failed last night; I failed as a leader, I failed as a partner. I couldn’t follow my own example. Some leader.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” you murmured. Squeezing Beidou’s hand you shook your head slightly. “I know that the people on this ship sort of see you as a goddess, which you are, to me at least. Still, even goddesses can sometimes have flaws. Besides, if a shipmate ever came to you with these fears you’d absolutely laugh it off, give them a pat on the back, and send them on their way. So maybe you should follow your own example in that way. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Beidou’s gut reaction was to contradict you, to point out once more how she had failed. However she was too tired, and your point was making a suspicious amount of sense. “Very well,” she smiled slightly, “you have a way with words darling. You sure you haven’t missed a career as a siren?”

“I already have a lovely sailor, thank you very much,” you giggled. Pressing soft kisses across Beidou’s cheeks you stood up. “Now drink a lot of water and get some rest. We can’t have our captain out of commission.”

“I trust I’m not the only one sleeping in today?”

“Oh definitely not! It’ll probably take a week before we’re in any shape to treasure hunt again.”

“Pity.”

“So greedy!” You gasped in fake surprise.

“As if you didn’t know that when you signed up.”

“I don’t know I never pegged you as the jealous type,” you said in a sing-song voice. Beidou felt her cheeks redden.

“Shaddup.”

Your laughter filled the cabin, bright and rejuvenating. Beidou couldn’t help but crack a small smile herself. How had she ever gotten so lucky in regards to her partner? Regardless of how, she wasn’t about to take you for granted.

Childe

Childe liked to think of himself as one of the “good ones” when it came to Harbingers to work under. Was he somewhat demanding and only expected the best when it came to combat? Well, yes. Did he regularly debase his coworkers and underlings? No, he wasn’t Scaramouche after all. As long as you were passionate in your drive to serve the Tsaritsa and as long as you never missed out on your training, well Childe was sure that he could never have a problem with you.

That was, in fact, not true.

One of the Fatui messengers had been talking to you for almost twenty minutes now, though about what Childe hadn’t the slightest idea. After all, he’d already gotten the message that he needed, and the messenger surely had no business with you – you didn’t even work for the Fatui. Still there the messenger stood and there you stood next to him, a small smile on your face as you let out a soft laugh in regards to whatever they were saying.

Childe knew that he had no reason to feel as he did, but that didn’t stop irritation from rising inside him, and a sudden urge to flaunt his superiority that he usually reserved for the field of battle rose up inside of him. He didn’t quite understand why he was suddenly struggling against the urge to run up to you and throw his arms around you, but the urge was certainly there. What in Teyvat were you talking to that messenger about? What could possibly take up so much of your time? Considering the small fragments of conversation that made it to his ears Childe ruled that it was nothing truly of importance.

Letting himself lounge even more across his office chair Childe let out a slight sound of annoyance. Weren’t the two of you doing something before the nuisance came along? Sure, it wasn’t necessarily the most important thing, but discovering the best place in Liyue to study the stars was hardly worthless. After all, being somewhere high up and with a good view meant a better survey of the land around you. Who knew when some pesky Millelith or intrepid adventurer might try to attack the Fatui members scattered across the plains and mountains in Liyue? It was imperative to have eyes on everything, certainly more important than whatever this was!

Finally giving into his rising irritation Childe walked over to the two of you. Slinging an arm around your shoulder, Childe tried to give the messenger a smile that didn’t convey ‘scram or I’m kicking you out’. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but my partner and I have business to do and I’m sure that your other messages won’t deliver themselves. To the Tsaritsa information is everything and all that, so you should probably make sure people actually get said information.”

“Oh, uh, yes my lord. I’m sorry.”

The messenger pulled himself up straighter, giving an awkward bow. Turning to go the messenger didn’t fail to turn back around to give you one last smile. Accentuating his smile once more Childe finally detached himself from you as the messenger walked out of the office, shutting the door softly behind him.

After that the messenger seemed to be showing up everywhere. Childe could’ve sworn he was getting more mail in a week than he had in all his previous months in Liyue. Not to mention how awkward the timing of the deliveries seemed to seemed to be. What was the point of getting “important” mail right before the Bank ostensibly closed? What was Childe supposed to do with the information now? Never mind the fact that the letters and notes he was getting seemed to be getting more and more mundane, even nonsensical. A shipment of weaponry to be picked up, that might be important. But specifications on the renovations Dottore was making on his lair? Why would Childe ever need to know something like that?

Nor did it escape Childe’s notice that these messages always seemed to come with at least twenty minutes of conversation with you. How was the Harbinger supposed to concentrate when someone was yakking away in his office? Besides, what did it matter to you what this person’s favorite flowers were? Childe knew that the Tsaritsa was often quite ingenious in her schemes, but he truly couldn’t see what relaying someone’s favorite flowers could do? Had he mentioned before that you weren’t even a member of the Fatui?

Every day the messenger would endlessly chat with you about the stupidest things, and every day Childe would end up interrupting the two of you. What started with slinging an arm around your shoulder was slowly escalating. First it was an arm, then two, then an arm around your waist, then a head on your shoulder. One time he’d even pulled you right against him, smiling slightly as you let out a squeak of surprise.

Of course Childe knew what he was experiencing, was not necessarily unfamiliar with the concept of jealousy. Still, he wasn’t about to tell you about it. After all jealousy was a shallow, grasping sort of emotion; something that caused generals to fight against one another to approach him or the Harbingers instead of tending to their own troops. Jealousy was a useless sort of emotion, and not one that a warrior such as himself ought to feel. Besides, did he really need to feel jealous about an annoyingly persistent messenger? They were hardly above a weed in the hierarchy of things.

Still, Childe couldn’t exactly deny that he was feeling jealous. Avoidance was one thing, deceit was another. Even if he didn’t want to tell you about what he was feeling, he would never lie to you about it. Which is why at the end of another tedious twenty minute conversation when the messenger had finally left and you turned around to ask him if something was wrong Childe found himself frozen, stuck between quite the rock and a hard place.

“Why would you ask such a question darling? Does something seem wrong to you?”

“Childe, please. You’ve been clingier than barnacle recently. Are you even supposed to be at the office today; weren’t you supposed to inspect an outpost in Dragonspine today?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with my wonderful, amazing partner! Is there something wrong with that?”

“For you? Yes, there absolutely is. Childe, are, are you upset about something?”

Childe stared at you for a moment, crumbling under your persistent gaze. He could tell that you were worried, could tell in the slant of your mouth and the furrow of your brow. He couldn’t very well say no. That would be lying after all. He was upset about something, even if it was something utterly beneath him. He was still upset.

“That messenger has been annoying me.”

“The one that just left?” You turned to look at the closed door behind you, a puzzled expression on your face. “But why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re flirting with you.”

“They’re not!” Your expression was incredulous, but you paused for a moment, obviously thinking about something very seriously. “At least, I don’t think they are. Are they?”

“Yes,” Childe let out a snort. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice. Why else would they be delivering the most worthless information before chatting with you when they should be somewhere else?”

“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “But Childe, it’s not like I’d ever be interested in them. I mean, I can see how it’d be kind of annoying to have someone invade your personal space, but why the clinginess?”

Childe stared at you for a moment. “You’re kinda dense you know.”

“I’m not!”

“Oh you absolutely are. How else would you not realize that I’m jealous?”

“Well, well because I don’t know. You just don’t seem the jealous type. Besides, it’s not like I’d ever have interest in anyone other than you. I don’t know, I just don’t see the point.”

“You really are dense.” Childe smiled a small, frustrated smile. Letting his head drop into the crook of your neck he let out sigh. “I know that there’s no reason that I should’ve be jealous. I just, am. I don’t know why, but seeing that messenger flirting with you for days on end, I couldn’t help it.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Your tone shifted slightly as you reached up to card gentle fingers through Childe’s orange locks. “Sometimes we’re just weird like that. Just as long as you know that you never have reason to be jealous, then you can be jealous sometimes. Alright?”

“Alright.” Childe whispered, finally letting himself relax a bit.

Raising his head he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let out a small purr of happiness, gladly reciprocating. The weight on the Harbinger’s chest lightened, and he was finally met with the feeling of lazy contentment.

“Now, don’t you have an inspection to attend?” You smiled indulgently. “Go on, I’ve got errands to do anyways. As much as I appreciate the attention, you have to lessen the clinginess, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises darling.”

The sound of your indignant squawk, combined with Childe’s laughter, chased him out of the room and down the staircase.

Eula

As a member of the esteemed Lawrence family Eula was confident in the fact that such base emotions as jealousy were utterly beneath her. What did people take her for? A commoner? What a presumptuous line of thought!

No, it was certainly not jealousy that Eula was feeling right now. What a preposterous notion. She was simply irritated that a Guild member had forgotten all respect due to the Knights of Favonius. After all, you were a part of Mondstadt’s frontline protectors, a far cry from those poor fools who relied only upon commission to prove their worth. Yes, it was simply how presumptuous that lowly Guild member was being, taking up your time on your patrol across the parapet of the wall surrounding Monstadt, to engage in such a frivolous act as flirting.

Surely there was nothing more to it? No, it was not even worth it to pose such a stupid question. After all, what was a lowly adventurer to Eula? A nuisance, perhaps, but nothing more. Certainly nothing to be worried about. There was no reason to pause at the tower door, no reason not to simply walk over to you, her partner and coworker. Your time on patrol was done, it was time to come in. Why then was she hesitating?

“You must love the view up here,” the adventurer smiled widely.

“Yes, it’s very nice!” You were all smiles.

“I’m sure it’s made all the more beautiful by your presence,” the adventurer pressed on.

“Ah, t-thanks,” you replied, smiling again and reaching to grasp the back of your neck. “Really, you’re too kind.”

“Not at all!”

The adventurer appeared to want to say something else, but Eula had long ago decided that things had gone too far. Who did this mere Guild member think they were?

“Your time is up soldier, you are needed in the afternoon meeting.”

Eula tried to keep her posture as correct as possible, looking straight past the interloper to you. You seemed to brighten, rushing over to Eula and nodding enthusiastically.

“Eula! Of course! I’ll be down, right this instant.”

“Good,” Eula replied, giving a curt not. Glancing over towards the adventurer she crossed her arms. “As for you, layawaying a knight of Favonius is a blemish upon the Adventurer’s Guild. Such a discretion surely must be paid with vengeance. Mark my words, I will not let this deed go unpunished.”

The adventurer stiffed. Taking a step towards Eula their face contorted into a snarl. “Listen here you Lawrence –”

“We’ll be going now!” You jumped in, glancing at you Eula nodded. Turning around she kept her features neutral. However she noticed the way you gestured apologetically at the fool before going to follow Eula, expression one of undeniable embarrassment.

Perhaps it was too much to hope that the adventurer might’ve learned their lesson. There they were the next day, standing right in front of you, acting as if yesterday’s squabble had never happened. Talking your ear off just as before Eula couldn’t help but frown at how they were to you, how they always seemed just about to brush their fingers against yours. How crude to do such a thing to a perfect stranger.

“Dear, is everything alright?”

Your voice snapped Eula out of her reverie. The two of you were walking towards Headquarters to grab your extra equipment before heading home. Normally Eula cherished such quiet moments, feeling like they were the few times when she could be utterly confident, utterly herself. This time however she found the events of the week pressing on her. Only managing to nod Eula quickened her pace slightly, as if to outrun the feelings that were growing inside her.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

Eula lifted her gaze away from the papers she’d been halfheartedly scanning, her eyes meeting Amber’s. Eula would be the first person to admit that she wasn’t exactly sure how she had become friends with the eccentric Outrider. Indeed most of the things about Amber on paper grated Eula quite a bit. Still Amber was probably Eula’s closest coworker – other than you – and closest thing to a best friend that Eula had. It was perhaps unsurprising that Amber should notice something was wrong, and Eula was almost pleased by the fact that Amber was concerned about her.

“Nothing of great importance,” the knight replied. “There is only a nuisance which has been taking up a great deal of time and seems to still be interfering, despite all my efforts.”

“What kind of nuisance?” Amber tilted her head. Eula looked away, staring at the shelves that lined her office. She didn’t really want to look her coworker in the eyes.

“A, human nuisance. There has been an adventurer from the Guild who has been taking up a great deal too much of my partner’s time. They are utterly too presumptive in familiarity, and I feel that they are jeopardizing the Knights of Favonius with their irresponsible actions. Yet, despite all my efforts, they refuse to rethink their devious ways. It is no small problem.”

“That does sound very unpleasant.”

“Indeed, and yet I know not what to do. My reprimands have fallen on deaf ears.”

“Have you thought of maybe telling your partner.”

“Why would I ever reveal such feelings to my partner?!” Eula whipped her head around to look at Amber. The smile on her face was somewhat self-congratulatory.

“Eula, can I ask if you’ve considered something?”

“What is that?” Whatever Amber was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

“Have you considered the possibility that you might be jealous?”

“What, what nonsense! As if I should ever fall prey to such, to such base sensibilities!” Eula felt her face redden. Finding a particularly dirty spot upon the ground Eula stared intently past her friend. No, surely Amber was wrong.

“If you say so,” Amber shrugged. “But you might want to think about it. I mean, if I were feeling jealous I’d want to tell my partner. Besides, isn’t it the duty of a knight of Favonius to be honest and true?”

“You’re taking this awfully seriously,” Eula mumbled.

“Maybe,” Amber smiled, “but I do care about you. Remember that.”

With that the Outrider grabbed the paper she’d presumably been looking for and walked out the door before Eula could think of any sort of comeback. Turning her gaze back to her work Eula let out an exasperated sigh. Vengeance would be required against her coworker for such a ridiculous suggestion.

It was beginning to get on evening as Eula raced towards your regular guard spot. She’d worked later than usual today, probably spurned on by irritation at Amber’s ridiculous suggestions, and now Eula hoped that you hadn’t given up waiting for her and decided to go home. Climbing up the stairs her mind drifted once more to what Amber had said. Jealous? A member of the Lawrence clan was jealous? No, it was surely ridiculous. I mean, sure, she found the majority of her family members repulsive and vain and lazy to a fault, but surely she had to take something out of all the time she had spent within their midst. Besides, appearances had to be kept up, if only for the song and dance that the other people of Liyue insisted on continuing, long after it had stopped being of any use.

And yet, if she really was jealous, which of course she wasn’t, wouldn’t it be right to tell you? It was these thoughts that chased Eula. As she reached the top of the stairs to the opening of the parapet she decided that, if Amber’s theory were somehow proved right, she would tell you. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the familiar silhouette of an adventurer meant it was the perfect time to figure this question out.

“It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you smiled. “Still, Monstadt must be guarded day and night, mustn’t it?”

“Ah yes, the Knights must do all they can to protect our glorious city. Still, would there not be another reason for you staying up here so late?”

“Not particularly,” you shook your head.

“Are you sure about that?” The adventurer leaned towards you. Eula once more felt her heart seize up with that now all too common emotion. Was this jealousy?

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure.” The more that Eula had watched this song and danse the more she had realized how awkward you seemed around this person.

“Oh come on, a lonely figure looking out from on a wall, it’s sounds pretty story-like doesn’t it? Then again, you are straight out of a fairytale.”

“Thanks,” you replied, laughing somewhat awkwardly.

At this point Eula had come to a decision. Regardless of what this emotion was, and she was becoming increasingly worried it was, in fact, jealousy, you still seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable. Walking out onto the parapet she took your hand, glaring at the adventurer which stood across from you.

“I see you are once more distracting one of the Knights.”

“They didn’t mind, did you?” The adventurer’s mouth screwed up into something resembling a sneer. When you said nothing they shook their head. “You just had to come and make everything awkward; typical of a Lawrence member to be such a pain in the ass.”

“And now you insult one of the Knights! Indeed, the punishment will surely be great; and, until I decide what punishment is to be meted out, I suggest you take your leave.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” The adventurer sputtered, but Eula merely smiled.

“Indeed I can. If I find you harassing one of our Knights one more time, know that I will not be so lenient as to merely give you a warning.”

“I wasn’t harassing anyone!”

“Distracting them then, making them unable to perform their duties, being a public nuisance. Do any of these serve you better?” Eula waved her hand. “Not that the terminology matters at this point. What matters is that you stop your current behavior.”

“Please just listen to what Eula says,” you piped up. Smiling a small smile you walked over to the adventurer. “I know that you were just trying to flirt, but I think that you should shoot your shot elsewhere now. Okay?”

The adventurer looked slightly red in the face, though whether it was embarrassment or anger was anyone’s guess. Slinking away, grumbling something under their breath, the Guild member was soon down the stairs and out of sight.

Sighing loudly you turned to Eula.

“Thanks for that. I mean, really! I don’t think they were trying to be actively malicious, but really sometimes you just have to read a room! I’m just glad I didn’t have to break it to them by myself.”

Staring at the stones under her feet Eula found herself mumbling something.

“What?”

“It, it wasn’t for your sake.”

“Ah yes, I know, it was for the honor and glory of the Knights of Favonius! Still, thank you.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. It was that, well, Amber’s been talking to me.”

“Amber?” You tilted your head, evidently confused by the sudden turn of the conversation. “What was she talking to you about?”

“About a very foolish emotion, one that I would never dream of feeling myself. And yet, I, I do believe that maybe, just maybe mind you, it had a factor in, in my actions.” Unwilling to come right out with it Eula found herself frowning. “The audacity of her really, to imply that a member of the Lawrence family might experience something as base as jealousy!”

Looking up towards you Eula saw recognition pass over your features. For a moment you did nothing, then suddenly a small, soft smile broke out on your face. Walking over to Eula, you gently enclosed your partner’s hands in yours.

“Thank you for telling me Eula, I’m sure it must’ve been difficult.”

“I-I’m not sure about it yet!” Eula stammered. “Only Amber wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“That does sound like Amber,” you let out a soft laugh. “Still, thank you for telling me. It means a lot to me, okay?”

“A-alright.”

“I’m glad.”

You leaned over to give Eula a quick peck, before turning to walk down the stairs. Eula followed, one of her hands still intertwined firmly with yours. Suddenly her heart felt lighter than it had all week.

#Genshin Impact fanfiction #beidou x reader #childe x reader #eula x reader #genshin impact #genshin beidou #genshin childe #genshin eula #requested #scenarios #my writing

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 3 years

Text

Cuddle Puddle for Four

For the lovely anon who requested : Could I request a fic where you’re not feeling well (physically or mentally) so the Marauders come in and snuggle with you in your bed and you’re all very touchy with each other and it’s just very cute. Maybe some wolfstar and James x reader? No rat please!

Light James Potter x Reader, and light Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Warnings : Insinuated Bipolar disorder and mental health

The moment your classes were done on Friday you retreated to your dorm room, crawling into bed, and burying yourself beneath the covers and letting yourself cry into your pillow. You felt miserable. Your week had started high, you felt like you could do anything. You were doing school work like it was a breeze, laughing, joking and being an all around joy. You were on a wonderful high. But like all good things, it came to an end, suddenly and all at once, and you entered a depressive episode. Everything hurt. Your head, your chest, your body, your soul. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

So you stayed in bed all weekend, alternating between looking at the ceiling and staring at the wall, a girl needed variety after all. Friday turned into Saturday and Saturday into Sunday. Your dormmates tried several times to get you to come eat with them; to do something. But you brushed them off, saying you were ill. Lily dutifully brought you food at every meal but it went untouched. You couldn’t eat. All you could do was alternate between crying pathetically and sleeping.

Finally Monday rolled around and you still didn’t leave your safe haven of a bed.

“Y/N,” Lily stuck her head into your curtains which had remained shut the entire time, she looked at you worried and you wanted her to stop. You were fine. Or at least you would be, once you were left alone. “Class is starting soon.”

“I am sick, Lily.” You muttered, not looking at her, “Tell them I don’t feel well.” Lily perched herself on the edge of your bed.

“Alright. But you should try and get up, shower, it might make you feel a bit better.” You knew she was right, Merlin, why did she always have to be right?

“Okay,” You nodded slightly, “I will,” Maybe. Lily nodded and stood from your bed, shutting your curtains again when she left, and you listened to her leave the room fully before you let out another small sob.

Down in the common room The Marauders stood waiting for Lily to reappear and when she did James jumped forward, eyes wide with worry.

“Is she okay? Is she coming to class?” He asked, and Lily shook her head. They had become mates slightly ever since he got over his crush for her and stopped bothering her all the time.

“She said she’s sick.” Everyone shared a look, knowing what that meant. They all left for lessons for the day, unable to focus as they were worried about you the entire time.

You continued to lay in bed for some hours before eventually peeling yourself from the sheets. Lily was right, you should shower. You went to the bathroom, turning the water as hot as it would go before getting in. You allowed the burning water to wash over you, even going as far as to shampoo and condition your hair. Lily would be proud. Once done, you changed into a clean pair of sleeping shorts and one of Sirius’s old oversized t-shirts before climbing back into bed, where you remained until the sun set again. Another miserable day gone by. You heard the bedroom door open and footsteps came to your bed, stopping just outside, the curtain was pulled back revealing Lily.

“Y/N,” She greeted, you nodded your head.

“Hullo.”

“The boys said they need you,” You looked slightly nervous as you sat up.

“Is everything okay?” You asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“They said it was Marauder business and they need you in their dorm immediately.” She informed you and you sighed. You sat up and she smiled slightly at you, noticing your slightly wet hair and new pajamas. You got out of bed and pulled on a fuzzy pair of socks before going towards the door. Only a Marauders emergency could get you out of your bed at a time like this.

“I’ll be back,” You muttered before disappearing through the door, Lily let out a sigh, glad the plan had worked. You went down to the common room, not looking at anyone as you went to the boy’s staircase and up to their room. You knocked once on the door before entering. James was sitting on his bed and he grinned widely when he saw you, Sirius was laying on the floor next to Remus who was resting his head on the other boy’s shoulder.

“Y/N!” James greeted, leaping up.

“Nice shirt,” Sirius stated with a loud laugh. You mustered a small smile and looked around the room.

“Where’s the fire?”

“No fire.” James admitted, coming to stand in front of you, your face fell.

“What?”

“We just wanted to see you, make sure you were alright.” You frowned. They tricked you.

“I’m fine,” You snapped slightly, but James wasn’t deterred. “I was laying in bed. Fine.”

“Well you can do that here, too.” He assured, and the other two boys nodded eagerly. You considered your options. Go back to your dorm and lay alone in your own bed, with your own stuff, or you could lay down in James’ bed for a bit, being entertained by the people whom you loved most.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll stay.” James grinned and took your hands, leading you over to his bed. You sat down and he sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulder. You pulled the covers up from the foot of his bed, and laid down, wrapping them around you and James. James laid beside you, pulling you close to him.

“Hey, no fair, I wanna join,” Sirius said, scrambling off the floor and pulling Remus with him. How they planned on doing that was beyond you, it was a twin sized bed for Merlin’s sake. You all stood up momentarily, trying to figure out this puzzle. Eventually Sirius laid down, allowing Remus to lay across his body, James plopping down next to Sirius before pulling you on top of him. You chuckled softly and pulled the blanket over all of you, snuggling into James’ chest and wrapping an arm around Remus who hugged you back. You were a mess of limbs in the tiny bed. James wrapped both his arms around you, one hand rubbing your back as the other one played with your hair. Remus held your one hand and Sirius clung to the other, his free arm wrapped around Remus.

“We need to pull another prank soon, people are gonna think we went soft.” Sirius was the first to break the comfortable silence.

“No one is gonna think you lot went soft.” You chuckled.

“If they saw this, they would.” Remus snickered and you giggled. James and Sirius both frowned.

“We’re not soft!” James argued. You made like you were going to get up, smirking.

“Then we better stop cuddling,”

“NO!” He cried out, pulling you back down into him, pushing your head onto his chest before dropping a kiss onto the top of your head. “You’re not going anywhere.” You smiled to yourself and yawned.

“But I’m sleepy.” You whined.

“So sleep.” James mocked you, whining back.

“Here?” You asked, slightly surprised.

“Course, you’ve been hiding from us for three days now, you’re not leaving my sight.” You smiled and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck, planting a small kiss there.

“You’re the best, all of you.”

“I know,” Sirius grinned, reaching out to pat you on the head.

“You’re the best, dear.” Remus corrected, looking at you with warm eyes.

“Shucks, Remmy, you’ll make me blush.” You smiled.

“Of course, don’t tell the others but you’re my favorite.” James scoffed and Sirius frowned.

“I thought I was your favorite!”

“No, you’re the biggest pain in the arse,” He corrected him.

“And I’m the prettiest,” James decided, batting his eyelashes.

“And Remmy is the nicest.” You added, yawning again. James pulled the blankets tighter around you all, kissing your head again.

“Go to bed, love.” He murmured against your hair, and you yawned once more, letting your eyes fall shut.

“Only because you asked so kindly, Jamie.”

“I love when you call me that.” He smiled, resting his head on Sirius’s shoulder, who turned his head to kiss James on the side of his head before turning to kiss Remus on the top of his.

“Oi, Y/N, come ‘ere. Can’t reach you. Get your kiss goodnight.” You scoot over in the bed, craning your neck so Sirius could kiss you on the cheek before collapsing back into James.

“Goodnight, love you all.” You whispered.

“Love you too,” James murmured. Remus took your hand again and squeezed it tightly.

“I love you.” He stated.

“I love you all more,” Sirius grinned causing everyone to giggle. You were happy, for the first time in days. You drifted off into the most restful sleep you have ever had, listening to James’ heart beating beneath you. You had no idea how you got so bloody lucky, to be surrounded by the people you loved, who loved you back entirely and fiercely. You all slept like that, in one big pile of cuddling. Arms around each other, faces nuzzled into necks and crooks, legs tangled. You were the luckiest girl in the entire world.

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