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oblonger · 4 days

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Chapter 7 of TPiaG: Body Swap Au

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@sincerely-sofie It's the chapter you've wanted to see! The wonderful reuniting of these friends!

The tearful reunion with the Future Trio

Life was going...

Until it wasn't.

Twig and Kip were sitting at the table. Planning out their day.

It was mostly done by Kip, he figured that Darkrai obviously didn't want to, and Twig still couldn't really read.

"I think that should be everything." He looked and smiled at Twig. "Are you ready?"

"Of course!" Twig responded. "The rain is gonna make your attacks hit much harder! This should be a breeze!"

Kip glanced out the window that Darkrai was staring out of. The overcast clouds blocking out the sun. The lack of sunshine making everything feel a bit heavier. Just a bit more dismal.

"What are your plans Darkrai?" Twig snidely remarked.

Darkrai growled. "Perhaps if you would give me something to occupy myself with, I would have plans, wretch."

Anger flashed across Twig's eyes

"I thought you do have plans Darkrai. Taking over the world and all that."

Darkrai looked at her angrily. "My true plans are put on hold until I return to my body."

Twig scoffed while rolling her eyes. "What's stopping you from trying in what is your body now? You should give it a shot. It'd be cute." She spoke, deadpan.

The two glared at each other as Kip sighed.

Its been like this nearly every day since they moved. He didn't know why they've been at each other's throats.

"Okaaay! Well, we should get out there before the rain starts pouring!" Kip exited the house first through the back entrance of their home. A straight shot from here to Mount Trevail.

Kip began walking down the trail, turning and stopping where the path splits, with one trail leading to the forest near the property. He saw Twig talking to Darkrai, just lowly enough for Kip to not hear them. They hate each other, and now they're sharing secrets? What are they doing?

"Hey! Twig! We don't want the rain to start before we even get there!"

"Im coming, gimme a second!"

Kip laughed loud enough for her to hear. "And I thought I was the slow one!"

"Since when?" Twig jabbed. "I was so slow it took me like, three weeks before we could go on jobs again!"

Kip laughed as he took another step.

Instantly, something felt wrong...

Kip looked around to see what was wrong. His blood ran cold when he figured it out.

The air around him was shimmering.

Suddenly, the Passage of Time opened to his side. His back facing the forest.

Kip swung his head to look at Twig and Darkrai.

"HIDE!!!" He screamed!

Twig rushed to lock the door and slammed it shut. Kip saw her speed past a window, holding Darkrai in her arms. His expression was more fearful than angry.

Kip's eyes snapped back to the portal when Grovyle stepped out. Some papers sticking out of a satchel he had slung over his shoulder. His face lit up when he saw him.

"Kip!!!" He joyfully shouted.

Celebi flew out next. "Oh FINALLY! Do you know how many realtors we had to talk to get to this point?" Celebi gave a dramatic sigh. "Those people just never stop talking!"

Kip forced a smile as best as he could. "How... uh, how did you find me?"

Dusnkoir emerged from the passage before it shut behind him. His towering figure filling Kip with dread.

"Well, you didn't make it easy." Celebi pouted. "We went to the Treasure Town Post office, and the worker gave us these ads.~" She joyfully gestured towards the papers.

Kip quietly spat out a curse word.

Grovyle looked around with confusion.

"Where's Twig?" He asked.

Kip forced a laugh. "Oh! She's just visiting some family! She'll be back soon!"

Celebi flinched.

Grovyle's mouth hung open.

Silence fell among them.

Kip could hear drops of rain slap against the ground next to him.

The sky looked even darker than it was before.

"Kip." Grovyle spoke.

Kip looked up at him, taking a shaky step back when he saw the look of complete and utter wrath in Grovyle's eyes.

"She doesn't have a family to visit."

Kip's heart was racing faster than he ever thought possible. The adrenaline pumping through him made him feel sick. It felt like his breath wasn't reaching his lungs. Kip couldn't tell if that was sweat running down his face, or the rain.

He'd forgotten that these are the only people that wouldn't buy that story.

He just screwed everything up.

Again.

Grovyle took half a step forward.

"Where is she." he growled.

Kip tried to choke some more words out. All of them getting caught on the massive lump stuck in his throat.

He can't tell them where she is.

Grovyle looked like he was about to impale someone.

"Are you okay, Kip?" Celebi asked.

No.

No!

No he wasn't!

Everything is about to end!

And it's his fault it is!

He can't tell them.

If they find Twig, they'll-

She will-

He can't-

A primal instinct wrapped it's claws around Kip's heart and soul.

He spun around and started running as fast as he could into the forest.

***********

"HEY!" Grovyle shouted.

Why was he acting this way?

Was someone threatening him?

Were they holding Twig hostage and he couldn't tell them?

The three started to chase after him.

Grovyle was about to catch him, he was much faster than he was, when he stopped. Right inside the entrance to the forest.

Celebi and Dusknoir stopped their pursuit and turned to face him, as Grovyle looked back at the house they were near.

"Grovyle?" Celebi asked.

He clenched his fist.

"Go catch Kip." He demanded.

Celebi and Dusknoir flinched at him. "But what about-"

Grovyle turned his head to glare at them.

"Just do it." He hissed.

Celebi looked taken aback. Dusknoir stared at him before nodding. He spun around and resumed his chase.

Grovyle fully turned towards the house.

"Grovyle? What's wrong?" Celebi asked.

"The legend is in that house." He growled.

Celebi flinched.

"... Go find Kip. I'll handle this."

"Wh- But Grovyle! You don't know how powerful they are! They could-"

Grovyle shot a venomous look at Celebi.

"Go."

Celebi flinched. She stared at him for several seconds before wordlessly turning and flying into the forest.

Grovyle started walking towards the house. He rummaged through his satchel before pulling out a seed, that he popped into his mouth. He pulled the satchel's strap over his head. Dropping it on the ground. The papers sticking out from inside, wilting from the rain.

The heavy feeling that Dusknoir had described a few weeks ago, got heavier with each step.

The legend that had been hurting Twig was in there.

Grovyle tried to open the door...

Locked.

The leaves on his arms became as sharp as swords. Grovyle slashed them through the doorknob before kicking the door open. Pieces of the door, clattering as it landed on the ground.

He stepped inside.

It was nicely furnished. What little furnishing there was.

The atmosphere felt suffocating.

The only noise he could hear was his slow footsteps, and the rain pelting the roof and the ground outside.

Grovyle kicked open the door to a room he was near.

The room was empty, save for a hay bed, a lamp, and many blankets that lay next to it...

This was Twig's room.

Grovyle slowly walked over into the kitchen.

He opened the pantry door.

There was several foodstuffs inside. About a week's worth...

Enough for three people.

...

Grovyle's chest was burning with hate.

Whoever this legend was, they were forcing Twig and Kip to take care of them.

Now it made sense why they wanted them to buy a house.

They wanted to isolate them from the guild and Twig's friends.

Grovyle slammed the pantry door so hard that several things inside fell over. The door bounced back open, and a few cracks formed in the wall where the hinges were located.

Grovyle prowled down the hallway into the living room.

That's when he heard something shift.

Grovyle slowly turned around.

A closet door.

Grovyle stalked forward and quietly pressed his ear against the door...

A small eternity crawled passed.

The rain landing against the roof.

Grovyle's blood rushing through his ears.

His heartbeat, making his hands shake just a little.

The seed, uncomfortably wedged between his teeth and his cheek.

Sweat and rain, running down his forehead.

...

A quiet, stifled breath from inside the closet.

Found you.

***********

Dusknoir could see Kip. He was catching up to him.

Was this because of him? Did Kip feel too afraid of him to tell him where Twig was?

He wouldn't blame him.

Suddenly, Kip slowed down. Slipping on the mud, before sprinting to his right. Into the trees. Completely off from the trail.

Why was he doing this?

Dusknoir had to quickly search for gaps large enough for him to fit through, in order to continue his pursuit.

Kip was constantly tripping and stumbling over tree roots, but his small body afforded him a faster route than what Dusknoir could achieve.

Dusknoir almost caught up to him, he reached out to grab him.

He hesitated.

Kip dove into a hollow, rotting log that lay on the ground, Dusnkoir's fingers barely brushing against his tail fin.

Dusknoir hated this.

He grabbed the inside of the log and exerted his strength to tear the log in half.

Kip glanced at him, terrified tears running down his face. He quickly stood up and began running again.

Dusknoir was fed up with this.

He used Shadow Sneak to appear in front of Kip, before grabbing him and lifting him up to eye level.

"That's enough." Dusknoir muttered. "Why are you..."

Dusknoir paused. He's seen the way Kip was looking at him now already.

This was Dusknoir's fault.

Perhaps the Croconaw was wrong. Maybe there wasnt a legend involved.

Maybe they somehow knew that he was returning and they wanted to get away from him...

Dusknoir was staring at Kip when his cheeks puffed outward.

Kip fired water directly into Dusknoir's eye.

Dusknoir dropped the child, crying out in pain and falling to the ground as he clutched it.

"I'M SORRY!" He heard Kip shout, his footsteps quickly becoming quieter.

Dusknoir tried to open his eye, but the pain was even sharper when exposed to air.

The rain pelted against his back as he tried to feel his way around.

He couldn't see anything but the incredibly faint outlines of the trees.

Dusknoir tried to focus on the outlines, but he couldn't focus on anything other than the pain.

Everything was dark.

He was blind.

"Dusknoir!"

He heard Celebi shout from nearby.

He felt a small hand land on his back.

"What happened?! Are you okay?!"

Dusknoir took in a sharp, pained breath.

"He used Brine in my eye."

Celebi gasped in disbelief. Dusknoir could feel a warmth coming from her hands. The intense, sharp pain was slowly draining away.

"Why would he do that?!" Celebi shouted, both in anger and concern.

Dusknoir winced as he was able to open his eye, still stinging a lot.

"It may be my fault. They must have known I was-."

"That's not possible!" Celebi snapped. "There was no way they could have known that we were coming back! Much less know about you!"

Dusknoir wanted to believe her.

Dusknoir stood back up.

"Can you see alright?"

Dusknoir looked around.

He couldn't.

Everything looked blurry.

Dusknoir nodded. "We need to catch him."

Celebi sighed in relief.

********

One second Twig was hiding in the closet, holding Darkrai close to her.

The next, the closet door had been torn off it's hinges.

And now she was rolling against the ground outside, having been thrown through the window by Grovyle.

She looked up to see Grovyle hop down from the window.

She'd never seen this kind of murderous intent from anyone. Even the legends she fought against.

She was terrified.

Twig righted herself into a sitting position and held out her hand.

"Grovyle! Wait, it's me! Twig!" She shouted.

Grovyle stopped and stared at her for a few seconds.

Then he looked even angrier.

"How DARE you use her voice!!!" He yelled, he held his hands close together and an Energy Ball formed between them.

"Wait! No!" She tried pleading with him.

He launched the Energy Ball at her and, despite her efforts to move out of the way, It hit her in the chest. A Shockwave of pain launching itself through her body as she was flung backwards again.

She looked up to see Grovyle rushing forward at her, his leaves so sharp that they were reflecting light.

Twig sunk down into the shadows as Grovyle lept at her, swinging at empty air.

Twig rose back up behind him.

Grovyle spun around and slashed at her eyes with his claws. She raised an arm to defend herself. His claw raked against her arm, breaking skin.

She shot out her other arm and grabbed his wrist, and then used her defending arm to grapple his upper arm up near his shoulder. She spun him around before swinging him over her head and slamming his back against the ground, a small crater forming. He coughed up some blood upon impact.

Twig positioned herself right above him, pinning his wrists against the ground.

"Please Grovyle! Just listen to-!"

Grovyle bit down on something and several massive flames shot out of his mouth. A Blast Seed.

Twig cried out in pain and shock as the flames engulfed her head. She stumbled backwards before she felt the pain of another Energy Ball slamming into her. Launching her back to the house, she slumped against the outside wall and managed to look up at him. Her vision blurred from tears, and almost fainting.

Why wasn't the rain putting the fires out?

Why was it raining through the metal ceiling?

Why was Grovyle walking through the fires without being harmed?

Why was this happening to her?

Why did she abandon them?

This is her fault.

She deserves this.

She deserves to die.

******

It didn't take long for Dusknoir to track Kip down again. The muddy ground from the downpour aided greatly. Even if his vision was impaired.

Kip tripped over a root that stuck out from the ground. He tried to push himself back up, but his arms gave out.

"Kip! Why are you so scared! He's not going to hurt you!" Celebi shouted as she landed on the ground next to him.

Kip didn't acknowledge her presence. He was trying to drag himself forward. Tears running down his face, his breathing quick and labored.

What in the world has him like this!?

Celebi stepped in front of him and looked him in the eyes.

"Kip! It's okay! You're safe! We aren't going to hurt you!"

Kip stared at her.

Celebi lifted him up with Psychic and hugged him, getting mud all over her.

"There you go. It's okay. I'm here for you." Celebi gently caressed the back of Kip's head, as his breathing gradually became slower and more even.

"Wh- gh. Where's Grovyle?" He managed to choke out.

"He went to the house to make sure Twig is safe. It'll be-"

"No! NO!!!" Kip suddenly shouted. He pushed Celebi away, and spun around. He fell back to the ground and started dragging himself again in the direction of the house.

"TWIG!!!" Kip screamed, his breathing sped back up again. Tears rushed down his face faster than the rain could wash them away.

"That's it!" Celebi shouted. "I'm looking ahead!" She closed her eyes and pressed her hands against her temples. "I need to see what in the world has got you..." She trailed off. Her eyes opened wide in horror.

Dusknoir asked. "Celebi? What did you-"

"Twig is the legend." Celebi muttered.

Dusknoir flinched. Kip's body tensed up.

"Wh- How is that possible?!" Dusknoir nearly shouted.

"I- I don't know! Twig is just in Darkrai's body now!"

Kip was hyperventilating. Dusknoir was worried that Kip couldnt breathe.

Dusknoir spoke. "If Twig is the legend then that means..." his eye widened "Oh no..."

Celebi looked at him with terror. "Grovyle will-"

Celebi was interrupted by Kip bursting into loud wailing.

Dusknoir grabbed him and held him to his chest as Dusknoir and Celebi rushed to get back to the house. Praying that they aren't too late.

*******

Grovyle limped towards his target.

They stared at him with fear. Tears were running down their face.

Good.

Grovyle felt pain shoot through his body with each breath. That hit he took definitely broke some ribs.

He pushed the legend's chest against the wall they were up against, unfortunately they didn't have much of a neck to choke.

Grovyle breathed heavily as he raised his arm. The legend stared past him for some reason.

"This is for screwing with us for the last two weeks!" He shouted as he slashed his claw against their chest. The legend crying out in pain in Twig's voice.

Stop that.

"This is for forcing Twig and Kip to live with you!" He slashed it's chest again.

"And THIS" He slashed the legend again "IS FOR HURTING TWIG!!" He slashed it again.

Grovyle breathed heavily as the legend was barely able to keep their eyes open. The blood pouring from their chest being washed off by the rain.

Grovyle prepared a final leaf blade.

"And now. I'll make sure you never hurt her again." He growled.

The legend looked at him with a weird sense of acceptance.

That's right. You do deserve this.

"GROVYLE! STOP!!!" Celebi screamed from behind him.

Grovyle turned his head to look behind him. Celebi and Dusknoir were rushing out of the forest. Kip was being held in Dusknoir's arms. His eyes wide, staring at him with sorrow and horror.

"THAT'S NOT DARKRAI!" Celebi yelled "THAT'S TWIG!!!"

Grovyle hesitated before turning back towards the legend...

First they used Twig's voice.

And now illusions of his friends.

Grovyle's leaves became impossibly sharp as he prepared to decapitate this vermin.

He begun his final swing before stopping.

The legend in front of him, the one he was about to kill, was wincing the same way Twig does.

Grovyle lowered his arm.

It was her.

It really was her.

But why-

How did she-

Why was she-

Grovyle stumbled backwards before falling to the ground.

Celebi, Dusknoir and Kip surrounded her. Shouting things that were muffled. His ears were ringing.

Grovyle's eyes didn't leave Twig's bleeding chest as her muscles relaxed. Her eyes cloudy, and only halfway shut.

He just killed her.

Each raindrop landing on the ground around him made his head pound with excruciating pain.

The three's shouting became more panicked. All three of them were crying. Dusknoir picked up Twig's body and rushed her inside the house.

Grovyle felt that the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him whole.

He wished it would do that.

Grovyle saw Twig stumble out of the doorway, before turning around to look inside, her tail flame a deep pink.

No. It wasnt Twig.

Grovyle launched himself forward and grabbed the legend that took her body by the neck. Catching them off guard. He slammed them against the ground.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER!?" Grovyle screamed.

The legend choked and gasped for air. Grovyle loosened his grip on their neck, only a little bit.

"I did nothing!" The legend hissed. A deep voice coming out of Twig's body. "I know not how we switched bodies, nor for what purpose!"

Grovyle's leaves sharpened "How do I know you're not lying!?"

"You don't!" He gasped. "But just know that what you have done on this day was the purpose behind Kip's disappearance!"

Grovyle recoiled. Releasing the legend, who started coughing and gasping for air.

The legend silently pushed himself off the ground and walked inside. Sneaking his way past the three pokemon tending to Twig. Shivering like how Twig used to.

Grovyle stared at her body, splayed out on top of the table. She was barely breathing. Celebi trying to heal her while Kip and Dusknoir desperately applied medicine and bandages to all of her lacerations.

The lacerations he gave her

It had been years since Twig last saw him.

And the first thing he did when he met her may have just been killing her.

Grovyle fell forward on his knees, Clutching his head. His sobbing drowned out by the pouring rain.

#text post #pmd eos #fanfic of a fanfic #the present is a gift au #pmd #writing #fanfic #body swap au #pmd2 #cw blood #tw blood #Hey! I never did lie when i said it was a tearful reunion!#also yes i know Mudkips cant actually learn Brine.#but i also didnt hant him to use Scald and permanently blind him :/

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housegautier · 2 years

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"There you are." The prince says out loud, leaning against the portal of the door that led to Sylvain's bedroom- right next to his own. His arms were crossed over his chest- and coupled with his stern expression it seemed like a scold was ready to come for the Gautier heir. "Finding you is surely starting to become more and more difficult as time passes. I might have to give you a collar with a bell on it, or I may risk losing my friend."

Stepping away from the wall and towards the other male with a sigh, the prince's expression gradually softened. "I hope the ball has not treated you too badly." Dimitri just knew what most likely happened time and time again in the ball- it was to be expected, unfortunately. "It worries me more times that I can count, I will have you know." One angry lady can lead to an angry father. Or an angry mother. Or an angry sibling. Or even more angry ladies. And then…

Dimitri doesn't wish to think about it, he had witnessed Sylvain's battered face far too many times in their youth to want to think about it again.

Mere feet away from his friend, Dimitri sheepishly hands out a sizable package clumsily wrapped in half-ripped baby blue silk paper- clearly done by hands that lack grace and care. Inside were two objects. The first was a brand new chess board, but the black stone was replaced with lapis lazuli- ultramarine gleaming with bits of gold. The other object was a horse plushie- but one that looked just like Sylvain's own steed. "We could play together one day again. As for the plush…ah…" Dimitri's cheeks flushed a deep pink. Fool, Sylvain is a grown man now. He didn't need something to cuddle with. Yet still…"The lady who made it was very kind."

With the gifts now in Sylvain's hands, the prince fidgeted for a moment, words struggling to come as his gaze flickered around. When it finally settled back on the redhead's eyes, Dimitri's look was bashful, reminiscent of his younger years- but determination shone through. Conviction. "Whatever others may say about you, or whatever fate has in hands for you, know that I will always be there for you- both as your prince, and as your friend. Your battles are my own." A sure nod, followed by a warm smile. "Happy Birthday, my dear friend."

His door is never locked.

It's a convenience thing, mostly--left open so that his dearest friends may barge in to scold or lecture him at their leisure. No matter how ill advised it may be to do so, Sylvain never changes that way of his. He has his full faith in the church in their security.

That, and if someone wants so desperately to kill him that they may try to do so when he's unarmed and within his own space, well. Might as well give them a fair shot.

He knows Dimitri's approach, hears it in the door to the room beside him closing and then all three of the footsteps his highness has to take to reach Sylvain's own door. Feet have only just met the floor when the man himself is propped against the doorframe.

"I know that face," shoulders heave with a sigh, a hand carding through his hair while the other rests at his hip. Fitting, to open his birthday with a lecture. "Yeah, yeah. Ingrid has already pitched the suggestion. Verdict was that I'd be too annoying, jingling all the damn time. Besides, this face is easy enough to find in a crowd, no?"

The little attempt at a joke simply breezes past his prince. Figures. Guilt worms its way into Sylvain's stomach as the other expresses his worry. It isn't as though he is unaware of his own recklessness--quite the opposite, actually--but being reminded by Dimitri tends to hit harder than most.

"I'll be fine, Dima, seriously," laughter laces his tone, desperate to ease that seriousness that his company seems incapable of ever dropping. There's such a sincerity to his concern, laid so bare, that Sylvain has to swallow the kneejerk urge to shove it away entirely. "You don't need to waste your time worrying for me."

Dimitri's wrapping job is truly spectacular, and the laughter that rises from Sylvain as the package is passed into his own hands is no longer forced. "C'mon, you know I wasn't expecting anything." An appreciative little glance to the other's face before his thumb finds an already existing hole in the paper and finishes tearing.

Amber eyes warm at the chess board, widening just so. Expensive gifts don't do much to impress him, but it's the craftsmanship of this that awes Sylvain. Nearly as much as the intention behind it--it's the kind of gift only someone who knows him as well as Dimitri would give. "You'll kick my ass, but I'd love to play. It's been too long."

His attention turns then to the stuffed horse. Amusement drips into that gaze of his. "It's perfect. I'll call her Cotton junior."

Just when he's thought that his composure will be kept--that he can get all dumb and emotional about the gifts once his friend's back is turned--Dimitri just has to go on and speak again. Saying such things with all that damned sincerity of his again. Sylvain's cheeks warm.

Chess board and stuffed horse are set aside, forgotten atop his desk for a moment as he reaches instead for the prince. It's his birthday. He's allowed to demand a hug or two.

"Thank you, Dimitri. It means more than you know."

#[inbox]#[s] dimitri #// HAPPY BIRTHDAY SYLVAIN DEWA THIS ASK BROUGHT TEARS TI MY EYES

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voidselfshipp · 17 hours

Text

My bad habits lead to you

Cw:mentions of blood,patricide,universe/cycle orchestrated romance.

Summary: Jerico has a brief existencial crisis over her inevitable fate of falling in love with Habit.

->Only mutuals allowed to reblog

Jerico laid there in bed,eyes tired and rapidly losing her sleep. With her hands on her chest she plays with the bow and arrow pendant that holds the power of the entity that chose her,keeping her safe.

Her mind runs miles like a Fox chasing a rabbit down its hole, her heart starts to beat faster at the thought of him.

She wasnt supposed to kill him in every cycle, she knew that. Why havent they Killed her yet? Why does Habit spend so much time just flirting with her?

In every cycle she falls in love with Evan, sometimes with vinny, she could understand that, both were good people,sweet,lovely.

The night passes by with her thoughts, stars twinkle and the clouds roll away softly. She can feel the breeze of the Open window- did she Open that Window? It doesnt matter, the cool air brings her a brief respite.

Out of the corner of her eye she swears theres something staring at her,deep purple irises and-Jerico rubbs her eyes, body worn out and weak,its the sleep deprivedness because when she looks theres nothing there.

Her mind returns to her crisis not soon after that,Why is she stuck here? Why cant she be pulled out? She doesnt want this...

"Every time,youre my downfall, and ill gladly fall for you every time. Either by your sword, or your heart laid bare for me,Vixen" Habit had told her in one of their most recent scuffles,which vinny broke off.

To her,the idea of him dying by her sword is the preffered option. But the second part, her heart laid bare for him?

As if she-

Jerico sighs shakily, eyes wide with her heavy eyebags crinkling with horror. Her mind races through the few plesseant interactions with Habit..

Him tucking her In to bed after she fell asleep on his couch, his cats buddying up to her and cuddling with her, Him making her tea while she sits on the porch drawing, him fixing her bow and arrow.

The HABIT has always been harmless towards her,kind, acrually quite sweet. Protective of her when the rake showed up,or literally protective of her every time she was in danger,paranormal or otherwise.

It clicks for her that every time Evan got a little too protective it was because of Habit, and some things that Evan said that felt odd...

Well, that wasnt Evan at all

Habit has yearned for her for Centuries, protected her, kept her well taken care of and comfortable. In this iteration he Killed her parents, in pasts iterations theres always something he saves her from

And that might just be the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for her

Her exhale Is shaky,almost inaudible as she whispers

--Oh my god-- her eyes widen with realization-- Im in love with habit

The breeze from the Window helps just a little to calm her down, she expected herself to cry right now but she isnt. Perhaps she can deal with it knowing that its not the first time she falls for the guy,and if she was able to deal with it before,then she can deal with it this time.

She lays on her side,facing the Window she doesnt remember opening. Closing her eyes,she lets out a deep unsteady breath, mind still racing but letting exhaustion take over,hoping And praying sleep saves her from this utter moral crisis shes living.

And though her dreams wont let her escape her current conondrum, Its nice to know that as she lays there asleep Habit keeps watch over her from the corner of her room.

His silent steps takes him to the edge if the bed,near her head. His hand, mostly clean but with Grime and blood under and around his finger nails, pushes away a few loose strands of her.

--I understand-- he whispers lovingly, sitting with her-- Im not someone easy to love, and if you choose not to love me back, I understand

Quietly he kisses her forehead and continues-- I love you,Foxy. More than you can imagine-- he smiles a little sad at the possibility of not being with her this time around-- ill do anything for you,and ill always Keep you safe

With careful touch he pulls the cover over her shoulder and smiles, leaving the way he came in (that being the window) and leaving her to get some much needed rest.

#tex don't look!#tex dont look!#habit tag pending

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gr0vndz3ro · 4 years

Text

Sweet Somethings

(Sweet Nothings Pt.2)NSFW

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, cursing, sugar daddy, daddy kink, size kink (if you squint), slight oral, finger fucking, loss of virginity, praise kink

Word count:6,906

Tag List (permanent): @keigod @dragonhrte @mrs-takami-keigo @fanfic-me-up @gallickingun @royal-after-dark @hawks-senseis @bnhabookclub

Crossed off: Virgin x Veteran

A/N: I’m so surprised with the amount of love I’ve been getting with Sweet Nothings, it’s almost at 1k when I’m posting this and I can’t put into words how shocked I am. I honestly didn’t think anyone would care for it. I love y’all so much so I hope I did you guys proud with this.

Pt.1 Here

One would expect nice things out of a sugar daddy, but that did not mean you were prepared for them. And you were certainly not ready for the luxurious sports car that stood in front of you. Pitch black with orange accents, a monstrous growl emanating from underneath the hood. The nicest car you had ever seen, yet the only thing your brain could focus on was the warmth pressed against you back. The way you could feel Katsuki’s hard pecs through the fabric of both his shirt and your dress was enough to make your thighs press together. What surprised you the most was the way that this man, who was almost a complete stranger to you, was able to control your body with such little effort.

You felt yourself almost let out a whine when he removed himself from behind you, making his way to the passenger side door and opening it for you to make your way inside. Stepping forward, you try to regain what little composure you had, and make your way to the seat, promptly reaching for the buckle when your wrist is stopped by his calloused grip. In confusion, you move your head up to meet eyes with the man attached to the hand now holding onto you.

“Please, what kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t buckle the lady’s seat for her. You do take me for a gentleman, don’t you?” The kind smile upon his lips telling a different story from the devious look he was giving you. You nod your head in agreement, not truly trusting your words as you move your hand away to allow him to do what he was wanting. His fingers wrap around the metal clasp and drag it across your body, bringing it closer to the fastener. Yet as he did so, he allowed his hand to graze against your semi exposed thigh. A tingle rushing throughout you at the simple touch. How are such small things affecting you so drastically?

While the drive was fairly quiet, it oddly wasn’t uncomfortable, yet the hand gently placed just above your knee was quickly going to become your undoing. You had given up on trying to figure out where it was the two of you were going soon after you 4th time asking him, only getting excuses in response along the lines of, ‘What’s the fun in you knowing’, ‘That will ruin the surprise’, and many others. So instead, you have resorted to taking in the passing scenery. The tall buildings that passed you by slowly started to thin out until eventually the only buildings you could see were little convenience stores and well kept historical homes. But it got to the point that they too soon left your view and the only thing that laid outside of the glass were the colossal trees that blocked out the sky.

After some time, the vehicle slowed down as it approached a gated fence. Saying it was a gated fence felt like an understatement as it was equal to what you would see guarding the homes of Hollywood celebrities. While nearing the entrance, Katsuki rolls down his window while tilting his head to the camera that was positioned on top of a speaker. Words were exchanged between him and whoever was on the other side of the speaker, and while you couldn’t make out everything the man was saying one phrase caught your attention, “Welcome home sir.” Your brow dips in turmoil as you try to convince yourself that the thoughts that were racing through your mind, were not the reason he was bringing you here. Surely he didn’t think that all the money he had donated meant that he had ownership over you and your body. Because if that was what he was thinking he had another thing coming. Almost sensing your inner dilemma, he let out a chuckle before lightly brushing his thumbs against your knee.

“You have nothing to worry about. I told you I was a gentleman, didn’t I?” The smile that pulled at his lips was enough to calm your anxieties. Your head travels to the window to watch as you pass by more trees. How big was this property? When you realize that the tires beneath you had come to a halt, you turn back to him only to watch as he steps out of the car. After unbuckling your seatbelt, you didn’t even have enough time to reach out for the handle before he was opening your door for you, extending his hand out for you to hold onto as you step out of the vehicle. Your mouth opens to ask him what you're doing here but feel yourself quickly get silenced by the warm presence of his hand on your back and his mouth close to your ear. “It’s a surprise, remember? Trust me, you won't be treated like anything less of the princess you are tonight.” A blush dancing across your face as he interlocks his hand with your own, gently guiding you away from where you were parked.

He led you down a stone path that trailed right along the edge of the small forest, lanterns lighting the way. Smaller trees draped over the path way, shielding you from the slowly setting sun. It wasn’t dark out yet, but the shade that the leaves provided created a cozy aura to the whimsical path. The whole walkway was almost something out of a fairytale. But it almost was fitting with the knight in shining armor on your side. Looking up you watch as his hair just slightly moves with every step he takes. You could tell it had been styled out of his face, but it was almost as if the unruly hair was attempting to fight back the products holding it down. But while you were entranced by the man on your side, you had almost missed the new breeze that swept past you. As the trees start to clear, you turn your head to find yourself shocked. Not because of the chill that was now running down your spine due to the cold wind, or even the gorgeous colors of the setting sun reflecting off of the water. No, instead it was because of the massive yacht that was docked at the pier of this beautiful lake.

Your jaw drops as he takes you toward the pier and closer to this magnificent boat. As you walk along the side you read the S.S. Lady Explosion Murder. It was kept in pristine condition, almost making you wonder if it had ever even been sailed. When he brings the two of you to a halt, you finally manage to bring your eyes away from the boat and look to see that he stopped in front of the stairs that lead onto it. You look up at him to see if you were supposed to go on, to which he responds by extending his free arm and doing a slight bow as if to say ‘after you’. He releases his hold on your hand to allow you to stabilize yourself on the handrail. As you make your way onto the ship, you see a table romantically decorated for two in the middle of the deck. Roses lay in a vase on the center of the table and candles placed strategically around the area to allow for just the right amount of light. Your jaw slightly drops at the lovely table that he had set up, turning back to him, catching his eye in the process.

“Did you do all of this for me?” In genuine shock, since no person had ever gone this all out for you before. He takes a step toward you closing off the distance before lightly grazing your cheek with his hand, tucking the loose stand behind your ear.

“Of course, you deserve nothing less than the best. I would have done more but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I just thought a nice dinner on the lake would be good for our first date.”

“You sound so confident that there is going to be more, quite the confident one aren’t you?” A slight smirk making its way to your face as you question him. But he quickly steals the smirk away from you as it travels over to him as he speaks again, his voice now a low purr.

“I have plenty of reasons to be confident. If you’re lucky you may find out why.” Your face turning a dark hue at what his words could imply. A chuckle emits from him as he watches you turn red. “You’re so easy to mess with princess, here let’s go and enjoy our nice night.” he once again places his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your chair before promptly pulling out your seat for you. You say a quick thank you to him as he pushes you forward, before making his way to the other side of the table to sit across from you. As you both got seated, you felt the boat start to move as it departed from the dock and started making its way further out on the lake. You couldn’t help but watch the water as it hits the side of the boat, mesmerized in the way the colors of the sky reflected off of it. You turn back away from the view to look at the stunning man in front of you.

“So I’m guessing that this must be your yacht?” You assumed that it was but you were curious to see if you were in fact on his property or not.

“It is, this is just the boat I keep here up here at the lake. It’s not often I’m actually able to come up here and enjoy it as I tend to be a workaholic you could say.”

“I do have to ask then, is there any meaning behind the ‘Lady Explosion Murder’?” A smile on your face as you ask him about the bizarre name. You understood men naming them after women they love for good luck, but you couldn’t imagine anyone being named that. He started to laugh at the memories of how he came across the name.

“Do you know what it is I do for a living?” He asked and it caused you to pause, seeing as you hadn’t actually even thought of it. You shook your head no and waited for him to continue explaining. “So, I’m the CEO for a large weapons and ammunition company. We mostly work with the military and deal with trading in foreign affairs. But when I was in school for my business degree we had to come up with a name for a mock company we worked on for a school project. I wanted to name the company King Explosion Murder then Lord Explosion Murder but the teacher said that both of those were too violent so I eventually ended up picked Ground Zero. When I open my own company I choose the same name I had used back then. But as a little homage to the ‘good ole days’ I decided to name the ship in favor of the rejected names.”

The two of you ended up laughing as he started talking more about his times in high school and you found yourself intrigued at all his stories about him and his childhood friends. He casually was able to switch the conversation over so that it was now on you and as the dinner for the night made its way to the table, you were telling all about your embarrassing memories and the horrible dates you had gone on.

“So you're telling me he tried to kiss you after that?” Bakugou had never laughed so hard in his life, yet it came so easy when he was with you.

“Yes he did! He spilled his entire glass of soda on me, attempted to ‘wipe it off’ and then proceeded to go in tongue first for a kiss at the end of the night. Needless to say I went home alone once again. I was convinced I was doomed and never going to be able to get past a first date with a decent guy let alone get a boyfriend.” A slight chuckle leaving your lips as you reminisce on all the horrible first dates you had been on. He paused in his laughter as your words processed in his brain.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had a boyfriend? You’ve got to be shitting me. There’s no way.” A light blush covering your cheeks as he stares at you in disbelief. You shrug your shoulders to say that it was true and he shakes his head. “Please tell me that this hasn’t been at least half as bad as any of your last dates with those wanna be’s” You smile as you watch him stand up from his seat and make his way over to where you were, extending his hand so that you could take it once again.

“It has already been a thousand times better, might even let you kiss me at the end,” Bakugou pulled you up from your chair, but since you weren’t expecting the force, you ended up tripping on your feet and landing dead center of his chest. You glance up making eye contact with him, your cheeks heating up once again as a familiar, devilish smirk spreads across his face. He tilts his head down and lowers it just above your ear, allowing his hot breath to fan across your neck as he speaks again.

“It looks like I already have you falling for me love, are you sure I’ll have to wait for the end of the date for that kiss?” As he goes to pull away from your ear, you move your hand to the back of his neck, keeping him there as you speak.

“Good things come to those who wait Mr. Bakugou.” You release his neck and are relieved to see that for once you weren’t the one with a tint of red across your face. Looking over his shoulder you could see that the sun was starting to set and you got excited at the opportunity to watch the sun set on this beautiful boat. “Oooo, let’s go watch the sun set,” A innocent smile on your face, ignoring what you had previously said to him, instead taking his hand and leading him to the railing on the side of the ship, wanting the best possible view of the setting sun. As you stood with your arms resting against the rail, Bakugou’s arms wrap around your frame, securely holding you against it and his warm torso. Resting his chin on the top of your head, you both stay silent as you enjoy the view together.

As you look off into the distance, just enjoying the peaceful quiet out on the lake, it is disturbed by a man walking up to you. He had cleared his throat, startling, only further pushing you against Bakugou’s chest. You could feel his hard pecs through the thin material separating you. As you go to move away from his chest, the grasp of his hand on your waist holds you tightly against him. For the hundredth time that night, your face goes red but with a new reason. Not because of any lewd words, or any innuendoes. Instead it was because of the pressure that was now on your butt. You were almost positive he wasn’t hard and the size of it in this state was enough to make your thighs clench. Just how fucking big is he? Your hips unintentionally rock backwards at the thought. The grip that was on your hip tightens as a light groan emits from his throat at the contact. If you weren’t turned on before, that sinful noise definitely had you soaked. As your thoughts continue going south, the man that had startled you in the first place spoke up.

“Sorry to disturb you sir, but there seems to be a malfunction with the engine. It’s nothing major but we aren’t going to be able to get anyone out here until the morning. I can call for another boat to bring you to shore, but I don’t know how long that will take to get here.” He stood by, awaiting an answer from Katsuki. He slightly steps away from you giving you just enough room to turn around to face him. Once facing him, he asks you,

“Would you like me to call for a boat so you can get back to your hotel? It should only take a few hours hopefully. But if you are tired, you can always stay in one of the bedrooms on board the yacht. It isn’t a problem, there’s multiple bedrooms if that would be an issue.” Looking into his eyes it didn’t seem like he had an ulterior agenda, but instead genuinely seemed to want to make sure you were comfortable, and was willing to make whatever you wanted happen. That thought made a smile cross your lips, as he made you feel safe and comfortable, even only knowing him for a small amount of time.

“I’m alright with just staying on the ship. Don’t stress yourself with ordering a charter boat.” Katsuki returned your smile as he slowly turned away from you to inform the crew member that the two of you would be spending the night on the ship but he was free to call for a charter boat if he wanted to go back home. After the man gave a polite bow to the two of you, he turned around and left to go back to the wheel. Now that the two of you were alone, he turned back to you taking your hand in his once again.

“Did you want to head to bed now? Or would you like for me to show you where your room for the night will be?” You nod your head saying yes, after which he guides you to the undercarriage of the boat. There was what seemed to be a living room and jetting off from the room was a hallway which had 3 doors. His other hand that wasn’t connected with you reached out toward the handle of one of the doors. He twists it open and a large bedroom presents itself. Stepping to the side, he makes enough room to allow you to pass by him to enter the room and explore for yourself. You make your way toward the dresser that was next to the wall before turning around when you hear him speak up again. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to grab you some clothes for you to sleep in.”

As he exits the room you take the time to examine the room. Your hand runs up the bed, the soft sheets almost calling your name to plop down onto them. But you hold yourself back and instead just sit on the edge of it, almost sinking in as the bed welcomes you in cozy arms. Just as you were about to get lost in the relaxation this mattress was tempting you with, Katsuki walked back into the room, a few clothes in his hand. He placed them on the side table before sitting next to you on the bed.

“I only had some of my clothes in the other room, so I hope you don’t mind but I just grabbed you some of my stuff.” He moved his head to look over at you and paused at how close your faces were. His eye brow slightly raises as his eyes travel down your face before landing on your lips, lingering before returning to meet you stare. His hand ghosted over the side of your body before traveling behind your neck, entangling in your hair at the base of your head. “Did you need help with anything else before I go?” You felt frozen under his lustful stare, unable to get the words out of your mouth as there was a lump in the back of your throat and an intense burn in your core. Swallowing the lump you speak up.

“I think I can think of a thing or two you could help me with.” Slightly leaning your head forward, feeling yourself getting drawn closer to him. But he must have felt the same because you could feel his word fan across your lips as he replied.

“And what would that be, princess?” His voice so smooth it came out almost as a purr. Yet instead of responding you push yourself forward, closing the small distance between the two of you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, perfectly molding together as if they had been created to only meet one another's lips. Your hand runs up his arm to tangle in his hair, gripping it as you try to drown yourself as the kiss makes you almost lightheaded. His spare hand moves down to your hip, squeezing it before relaxing it. The hand that was buried in your hair grips down, tugging at the strands, making a soft gasp leave your mouth at the pulling sensation. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Bakugou dives his tongue into your mouth, exploring the new area. Your tongues battle before his hold on your hair and hip tightens causing you to submit. Your hands travel down from his hair to his chest before you break away from the kiss by pushing his torso flush against the mattress. As you both attempt to catch your breath your hands make quick work to unbutton his pants, his hand grabbing your wrist before you could continue.

“Hey, I don’t want you to think we have to do anything alright? You pause to look up at him taking in deep breath taking in his appearance. His hair messier now from your hands messing it up. His face coating in a thin tint of red from the heat of the situation. Your eyes start to travel down, looking at how the top few buttons of his shirt had come undone, allowing his collarbone to poke out and letting you catch a glimpse of the chiseled pecs that had yet to leave your mind from the first time you had video called each other. Continuing your exploration, your eyes stop when you reach his pants. the tent in his pants prominent under your devouring stare. Reaching your hand out, you let your hand lightly grasp his member, earning a throaty groan from the man under you. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth as you slowly palm him through his dress pants. Even semi hard you could feel just how thick he was. Moving your hand, your eyes shoot back up to meet with his, his hooded eyes watching your every move.

“Oh I know. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to do something,” a smile on your face as you separate yourself from him, reaching for the zipper to your dress allowing it to slip past your shoulders and fall to the floor with a soft thud. Strutting your way back to where he was, you connect your hands with his waistband, tugging both his pants and his underwear along with it as you pull them down his muscular thighs. His dick slapping against his abdomen as it is released from its tight confines. Your eyes widen as you feel your jaw slightly drop at the view. Sure you had felt how large it was, but it was nothing in comparison to seeing it in person, right in front of your very eyes. Lowing yourself in front of him, the temptation to lick it was overwhelming as you felt your mouth watering at the sight of it. Taking his length in your hand, you give it a gentle squeeze as you open your mouth, running a long stripe up his length, tracing the pronounced vein that ran underneath of him. You hear him suck in a breath as your tongue flickers over his swollen tip, his hair immediately flying to your hair, needing something to hold onto at the sudden feeling.

“Shit baby girl, don’t mess with me like that.” You would have smirked at the comment but you were preoccupied at the moment. Opening your mouth further you take his head into your mouth, flicking your tongue against him again as you suck on his tip before releasing it while an audible pop. Bringing your head back down you take him into your mouth, relaxing your jaw as you attempt to take him fully into your mouth, almost being successful, but with how big he was it was nearly impossible for you to get him all in. You hold yourself near the base of his dick, tears swelling in your eyes as you try to relax so as to not choke around him. You feel yourself start to gag around him but the low groan that left his mouth made it completely worth it, the sinful sound sending a surge straight to your dripping core. Pulling yourself off of him, you gasp for air as he brushes your hair out of your face.

“Fuck princess, get over here.” He pulls you up to him and connects his lips to you, the kiss much messier than it was before, heated, but amazing to say the least. You break away from him still trying to catch your breath from before.

“Why’d you stop me, I could do a lot more you know.” You walk your fingers across his torso as you give him a playful wink.

“Oh I bet you could, but I’ll be damned if I don’t make you into a sobbing mess before I cum.” You couldn’t hold back the whimper that manages to escape at the thought of him ruining you. “But I bet you’d love that huh princess, want me to make you feel so fucking good.” his lips travel down to your jaw, kissing his way down your neck making it to the dip in your collarbone before licking a strip all the way back to the sweet spot just under your ear. He started moving back down kissing and nibbling as he explored your neck, searching for which spots made you the loudest. That was until he felt himself physically have to pause at your next response, just barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes please daddy...” He groans deeply into, the low pitch sending an electric feeling down your spine and resonating in your core. His hand makes its way to your throat as his finger lightly wraps around it, gently squeezing the sides.

“Say it again. Louder this time.” His fingers pressing into you as you feel a rush going to your head.

“Please daddy, I need you.” He released his grip on your neck and you feel the blood rush to your head. You go to take a deep breath but as you inhale Bakugou grabs you by the waist, flipping you so that he was now inches above you as you're practically pinned to the bed. The very breath you took caught in your throat as he lowered himself to your ear as his deep voice makes chills travel throughout your body.

“What exactly do you need, princess? Come on, I want to hear you use your big girl words.” A whimper involuntarily escaping you.

“I want you to make me feel good. To-- to stuff me with your fingers an- and prep me for your big dick.” Your face a bright shade of red as every drop of confidence you had earlier left with the lewd words he demanded to hear from you. But when you made eye contact with him you could see in the way his eyes darkened and by the smirk on his face that he was satisfied with what you had said. His hands roamed across your body, his rough fingertips slightly scratching you as he looped his fingers in the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your legs before discarding them across the room. As his hand moves back up to your legs, you press them together at the cold feeling against the newly exposed area. He raised an eyebrow at the action and placed both of his hands on each of your knees.

“Spread them.” Was all he needed to say for you to slowly open your legs, putting yourself completely on display for him. Embarrassed at how exposed you were, you went to cover your face, but that didn’t last for long when you heard him groan as he took the sight of you in. Peeking out from under your arm you watch as he licks his lips as he stares at you, looking as if he was ready to devour you then and there.

“Fuck baby girl, you’re so good, doing exactly what I tell you to do -shit.” He started to talk more to himself as he ran his finger over your entrance, sucking in a breath at just how wet you were. A string of profanities leave his mouth as he dips a finger in after completely coating it in your slick. A whimper leaves your lips at the slight stretch. Slowly pushing himself further in, he curls his finger upwards and brushes it against your spongy wall. Your hips jolt up to try to meet his hand but he is quick to place his hand on your stomach, pressing you to the table making you stop your movements. “I’m going to need you to behave princess or you aren’t going to be getting anything from me, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes daddy..” you take in your lip, hoping that the response you gave him was what he had wanted to hear so that he would continue doing whatever it was that sent that electric surge throughout your body. But when you heard the deep groan come from his throat you knew that was exactly what he had wanted to hear. Slowly he pulls his finger out of you only to push it back into you, enjoying the way you clenched around his digit. After sliding out of you a few more times, you are forced to bite down on your lip as he slips another finger inside of you in a swift movement. Each thrust of his fingers slightly curling up to make sure to press lightly against your g-spot, making a tingle shoot to the tips of your toes. A moan rips from your mouth as he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing against your wall with more force. His pace picks up as the noises coming from you do as well. Just as you start to feel a warm feeling build up, your head shoots up at the sensation of another finger being added into you. You shake your head at him trying to tell him that it was too much but you're silenced as his head dips into the crook of your neck. He leaves a trail of hot kisses all the way from your collar bone to just below your ear before he speaks again.

“You’re doing so good princess, taking my fingers like this- fuck- I know you can take it. I can feel just how close you are. Cum for me baby girl, cum all over Daddy’s fingers.” That was enough to make your body take over in a flood of white bliss as your orgasm soars through you. Your hand gripping his back, nails leaving a trail as you hold onto him. You moan out his name as he speaks in your ear. “Yess fuck baby just like that.” As you come down from your high he pulls away just far enough from you to watch as he pulls his fingers out of you. His fingers dripping as you watch him pull them to his face, his mouth wrapping around them, cleaning them and you feel yourself clench around nothing at the sight alone. His hand travels down from his mouth to your thighs, gently squeezing them before spreading them so that he could be between them. His length pressing against you as he puts each of your legs around his hips. You can feel yourself already getting wet again as his tip rubs against your swollen clit. A smirk on his lips as he watches you squirm against the sheets at the feeling of his length pressed against you. “Do you think you're ready for me? Think you’ll be able to handle it, baby?” He teases you, moving forward so that his head rubs against you again. He continues doing this, loving the way you keep moving your hips in any attempt to earn something more from him. He grabs the sides of your hips, halting your movements, causing you to whine. You try to move again just to get any kind of friction and you hear him suck in through his teeth. “Nuh uh princess, I want to hear you beg for it.”

“Please Katsuki-- god please I need you so bad. I just want you to fill me up. Please daddy, fuck me until I can’t walk.” A chuckle is all you can hear before you feel his hand ghost over your thigh, goosebumps covering you as he travels over your inner thigh to where his length was resting against you.

“Your wish is my command, your highness.” was all you heard before the room was filled with the sounds of your moans as he pushed into you. As he slowly bottoms out inside of you, your hands shoot up his back and bury themselves in his hair, pulling him close to you. The slight pain of him stretching you out causes you to furrow your brow and bite down on your lip. Noticing your pain, Bakugou dips down, connecting his lips with your own, distracting you from the pain you were feeling. His hands lightly massaging your thighs and hips as he finally is able to press against you fully. He stills himself giving you the much needed time to adjust to his size. Even with the preparation he was so much bigger than you had expected. After some time you pull away from the kiss, your eyes meeting his as you take in a shaky breath.

“Please- move.” He gives you a smile before pulling out of you, immediately leaving you feel empty before he pushes himself back into you. He leans forward while keeping a slow pace and kisses away the tear that, unknown to you, managed to escape your eye. Pressing his forehead to yours you watch him close his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing as he sucks in a breath.

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight.” You didn’t know if the statement had even been for you as he was so focused on not railing himself into you. You could see on his face the struggle he was going through at the antagonizing slow pace he was holding. Taking a hold of his face you bring his attention back to you.

“You can go faster. I can handle it, just give me all you’ve got.” You watch as a sinister look takes over him as one of his hands removes itself from your hips and is planted down beside your head, his other hand’s grip on your hip tightening.

“You might want to hold on then princess.” You were just barely able to comprehend his words before you feel him pull out of you and quickly slam back into you. Not being able to hold back the moans he was pulling out of you as he repeats this action, burying his dick deep inside of you, each thrust causing his head to crash into your soft, spongy wall. While you had told him to give it his all this isn’t what you had been expecting. The pure pleasure coursing through you as his unforgiving speed and power only seems to increase. You drag your fingers down his back, sure that your nails were breaking through his skin, but at the moment, that was the least of your concerns. You threw your head back against the pillow as you feel him attach himself to your neck, his mouth leaving hot open kisses against you. As one of your hands pulls against his hair, a deep groan rumbles through his throat sending the vibration straight into you as he connects himself to you again, his kisses turning into harsh sucking and nibbles. As he moves down your neck he stops at where it connects with your collar bone when he hears the broken moan that leaves from you. As he licks a stripe up the length of your throat back to his new favorite spot, a chill runs through you and you clench around him.

“Fuuuck baby girl, You keep that up and I’ll have no choice but to fuck you all night long.” You whimper at the thought alone. He continues his brutal pace as your grip in his hair tightens, holding on for dear life as you try to keep up. The way he was slamming into you was unforgiving but you loved it. Each thrust making you stretch around him, barely able to handle his size. You could feel your high coming again, and coming fast. But Bakugou must have noticed as well as the hand that was grasping your hip was now rubbing circles into your clit. The pressure was overwhelming as he also somehow picked up the force as he rams harder into you.

“You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Go ahead, cum for me. I want to hear you scream out who is making you feel this good. Let them all know who’s princess you are.” His hip tilted upwards and mixed with what he said was enough to force you to come undone. You scream out his name as your body is taken over in euphoria. “That’s it, baby girl- fuck,” was the only thing you were able to make out as you feel his paint your walls white. His thrust starts to slow as he helps the two of you ride out your highs.

His head presses against your own as you both attempt to catch your breath, the sounds of your breathless pants were now the only thing filling the room as you feel him soften in you. You feel your body go limp as he pulls himself out of you, feeling incredibly empty. You feel the bed dip as he gets off, heading into the bathroom before returning with a wet cloth. Gently, he cleans away any mess, making sure to be careful when he gets to any sensitive areas. Afterwards he places the towel on the nightstand before sitting back on the bed. Your hands gently run over the raised skin of his back, trying to calm the now irritated skin.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scratch you so bad,” You felt bad for the marks you left on him. But when he encases your face in between his hands and makes you look into his eyes, you feel a wave of relief take over as he speaks.

“Don’t feel bad princess, you are perfectly fine. If anyone should be apologizing it should be me, I may have been a little rougher than I had originally meant. I didn’t hurt you did I?” A look of worry on his face as he realizes he had sort of lost control. But when you smiled at him he felt a little bit of his stress go away.

“It was perfect. It was better than I ever could have imagined. So thank you.” He slightly smiled while his eyebrow cocked at your statement.

“You say that as if you’ve never been fucked properly before.” He chuckled as he pulled you to lay against his torso. Suddenly a wave of nervousness washed over you as you fiddled with your fingers. He looked down at you. “What is it?”

“Well that would require me to have been fucked before...” You felt him freeze under you.

“You’re kidding right?” You avoided his gaze, but his hand gently grabs your chin pulling you to look up at him. “I wish I would have known.”

“Why, would you have been gentler?” You ask him, worried that he regretted it.

“Of course I would have. It’s your first time. I wouldn’t have gone that all out, I would have held back a bit.”

“Well then I’m glad I didn’t say anything because that...” you pause taking a moment to plant a kiss against his lips. “...was amazing.” He smiled against your lips before pulling you into another kiss, this one much slower and filled with emotion than the ones you had shared before.

“I’m glad that you enjoyed it, next time I’m just going to have to make it up to you.” He brushes your hair out of your face.

“Next time?” You question him and a soft smile spreads across his face as he looks into your eyes.

“Of course, I meant it when I said you never have to worry again. You're my princess, and I’m going to make sure to take good care of you, okay?”

Bold could not be tagged: @terrifying-testicles @loxbbg @mycrennycalromance @skylan666 @wifunozomi @urmomsshousee @kellyyween @niko-su993 @cookednoodlez @guzmagirl @bleakerspath @explicitbun @qunibunisartblog @succulent-momma @anjadolly @bakugou-is-my-daddy @wessoninc @lovinthesiz3 @katsuki-bakubae @hot-pocket01 @sir-knight-slytherdor @katsukiswhore @death-to-the-patriarcy @plusultrabitches @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @angxlicwanda @ninjafirewitch @hellyeahbakubby @green-beanie-chan @ktsuukki @morenabambinii @kagomefan27 @anxietys-a-bitch @azgucci @theofficialhufflepuff @seungcheolieeesblog @artgirlwithglasses @sleepysuneater @justanormallyabnormalbitch @hsixen @sincerelyyrosemary @liviitehe @arsenic0tine @maddoxrabbit

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sunnysviolin · 3 years

Text

Omotober Day Three- Picnics

If you want to read it on ao3 (now as one singular fic because I am a dum dum) you can do that here

When Hero suggested that the five of them get together and have a picnic, Basil was nervous, but excited. There was a part of him that would always be afraid, but more than anything he wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. A picnic could be the start of that.

But Basil should have known that things could never go back to the way they used to be.

“Forgiveness, reader, is, I think, something very much like hope and love - a powerful, wonderful thing.

And a ridiculous thing, too.”- Kate DiCamillo

Basil wasn’t really sure what to expect when their group decided to get together for a picnic again like they used to, but his first inclination wouldn’t have been that there would be a fist fight about to break out.

After the fight, and the hospital, and everything that came after, things had gotten surprisingly calm and quiet. The guilt that had eaten his insides for all those years was gone, and in its place was peace. Yes, he still felt awful about what they had done, but the secret was over, and he no longer had to hold all of that pain by himself.

Their friends had accepted the truth at varied rates, and Basil was sure it would take a long time before they ever even came close to forgiving him or Sunny. Aubrey was still quick to anger, Hero was still avoidant of the pain, but things had changed. Something about those last few days Sunny had spent with them in Faraway had changed them all, made everyone more open to trying with each other again. Even after they learned everything.

It felt good to be friends again, to be able to look at their faces without the self loathing threatening to crush him. He would take whatever halted measures of friendship they would give, if it only meant not being alone again. So when Hero suggested a picnic, Basil eagerly agreed without thinking twice.

He should have thought twice.

The planning had gone perfectly fine. Kel was a hundred percent on board, and he had even offered to help with making the food. The other boy seemed most pleased that it was Hero specifically who was extending the branch out. Basil knew that, of all of them, Hero was probably going to have the most mixed emotions about what he and Sunny had done. Still, Hero was Hero. Even if he hated them both, he would never reveal it.

Aubrey had seemed unsure, but Kel’s enthusiasm and the promise of getting Sunny back to join them had her agreeing. Basil knew she and Sunny talked on the phone pretty often, maybe even more than Sunny and himself. Aubrey was trying hard to make up for the last four years, and she spent most of her time with Basil or by herself. She said it was to ‘figure things out’ and he didn’t pry. He knew how hard it was to accept things in your past that you didn’t want to think about or the parts of yourself that you didn’t like all that much.

Then there was Sunny. They had all crowded together around Kel’s home phone to talk to Sunny about their idea. He had agreed to come and made plans to sleep at Kel and Hero’s house the night of their picnic. Logically it would have made more sense for him to stay with Basil, there was more room at Basil’s house, but it went unspoken between them why Kel and Hero had extended the offer instead. He would catch the train in and out and be back by dinner the next day, it wasn’t a far journey. None of them had seen Sunny since the hospital, at least not in person, and Basil wondered what it might be like to lay eyes on the other boy now.

The day came and they had split into natural groups. Most of the preparations were already done, but there were a few things to finish up on the morning of. Hero would take care of finishing the food, Aubrey would set up in their spot in the park, and Basil and Kel were going to go pick up Sunny from the train station.

Everything was good. The day was bright and warm with not a single cloud in the sky, Sunny’s train had arrived right on time, and Sunny had even greeted them both with quick but tight hugs and a small smile. He was still wearing an eyepatch (and apparently would always be from now on) but he looked a lot better. The bags under his eyes were gone, and the greying pallor of his skin had vanished. He held himself a little straighter, spoke a little more, and the air of fear that seemed to surround Sunny had dissipated into nothing.

Kel had grabbed both of their hands and swung them through the air as they walked towards the park, chattering about what he and Hero had planned for that day. Basil was content to let Kel do most of the talking and shared a secret amused look behind his back with Sunny. This was something that had happened all the time when they were kids, and the nostalgia of it was easy to fall into.

When they got to the park and saw Aubrey, things were awkward for all of two seconds before she punched Sunny gently on the arm and ruffled his hair, bringing them over to the set up she had created. The picnic blanket was a checkered blue, not red, but it was soft. There was the scent of flowers in the air from the bushes nearby in bloom, and a breeze twirled the pinwheels clustered in the distance. It felt so blissfully...normal. Like they could just fall right back into step where they left off all those years ago.

Basil should have hit himself over the head for thinking that.

It started so innocently. They were waiting for Hero to arrive and sighing about how nice their little corner of the world was, when Aubrey made an offhand comment about her friends potentially joining them next time. Before Basil could even really process what her words, Kel had said no. He hadn’t said it in a joking way or to tease her. Kel had snapped, and the tension in his shoulder and the hardness of his eyes told them all that he was deadly serious.

It was jarring. Of all of them, Kel had always been the friendliest. Hero may have been the most popular, but Kel wasn’t far behind his brother in natural charm. He was sweet and sincere, and almost always willing to get to know people. It wasn’t like him to shut down so quickly or with such force. Kel’s face was stormy and he was avoiding eye contact with all of them, keeping those hard eyes locked with the ground. Aubrey seemed livid, but she sat stony and silent, waiting for more of an explanation. The one that came only made things worse.

“I just don’t see why you would even wanna be around them anymore,”

Aubrey, loyal beyond words, had swooped in to defend the rest of her gang, claiming that they were good people who were great friends. This had only made Kel scoff, which infuriated her even more. Basil was used to Aubrey and Kel getting into arguments, he was even okay with the escalated fight that had happened at the dock (seeing as he blamed himself for causing it), but this was unlike any of those.

Normally it was Kel who kept fairly cool during these things, and Aubrey that went ballistic. Yes, Kel fought right back with her and gave as good as he got, but he had always seemed calm and collected, mostly joking around and poking fun at how red Aubrey’s face would get.

Now it was his cheeks that were tinged, and his throat that was raw from screaming, in a way that Basil had never seen before. He stayed silent and tried to keep himself small, hands clasping together over his chest as he tried to remember the deep breathing techniques Polly had been teaching him. They didn’t seem to be working. A quick glance to the side showed Sunny in a similar state of distress, watching their friends argue with a wide eye and clear panic etched into his features.

Aubrey and Kel’s argument devolved fast, going from something that held worth to just being insults hurled back and forth. They began to advance on each other, clearly done with words and moving past to blows, but a voice cut through, breaking the intensity that had caught them all firmly in its grip.

“What’s going on?”

The four of them turned around simultaneously, varying stages of guilt evident on everyone’s faces. Hero emerged from the brush, carrying a large wooden picnic basket on one arm, his mouth turned downwards.

He surveyed the moment and sighed, a tired sound that betrayed a weight that they all knew Hero carried but refused to let them bear with him. The eldest walked over and gently placed the basket down on the blanket, glancing at each of them in turn.

“You okay, Sunny?” Hero asked, and Sunny nodded. He seemed calmer now that someone was intervening, but fear was still there. Hero patted him once on the top of his head and peered around the youngest. “Basil?”

Basil nodded too, his own words caught in his throat. It wasn’t the same as when Something had been squeezing him too tight to breathe, it wasn’t that bad yet, but it was still pretty bad. Nothing he couldn’t handle though, and Basil knew that Hero needed to be focusing on the other two right now. With both of them checked on, Hero stood at his full height and stared at the others.

“Explain,”

Both teens burst into words, voices raising as they tried to shout over each other and interject to disprove what the other had just claimed. Hero listened to the cacophony for a moment and then raised his hands, yelling over them to quiet down. Once it was settled again, Hero turned to Aubrey.

“Aubrey, you go first. You can talk with no interruptions. Then Kel is going to talk with no interruptions, and we’re all going to listen to each other. I want each of you to explain to me why you’re fighting, okay?” Both teens nodded, and Hero sat down, gesturing for the other two to sit back down as well. They did, and then Aubrey began to talk.

“Out of nowhere Kel starts going off about my friends and talking bad about them for no reason,” Kel made a noise here and Hero looked at him. The younger brother rolled his eyes but stayed silent, and Hero waved a hand at Aubrey to continue, “I don’t get why he’s so angry, but I don’t care. He had no right to say all of those things. That’s why they don’t like you, you just assume the worst of them.”

Kel shot a harsh glare towards the girl, something fiery and fueled with a deep rage that was completely out of character for him. Then when he spoke, the oddities only continued.

“I didn’t start ‘out of nowhere’. You started this by saying you wanted us all to hang out with them. Like we’re all pals. Did you forget that the only thing you did when you spent time with them was bully people and act like none of us mattered to you? You keep talking about how you wanna change, but you don’t. You just want to act like nothing you did mattered. They bullied m- Basil for years! If you’re really our- his friend I don’t know why you don’t want to protect Basil from those guys,” Kel finished his speech with a huff, crossing his arms and curling in on himself.

“I apologized to Basil plenty already!” Aubrey replied, a glance to Hero when she began. When he didn’t interrupt her, she kept going, “He forgave me, and now we’re trying to get past it. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Maybe we should listen to what Basil thinks?” Hero suggested, trying to keep the conversation from riding off the rails as it had before, “If you’re both so worried about him, it seems like his opinion would be the most important thing here,”

Then all eyes were on him, waiting to hear what he had to say. Basil twisted his fingers in his lap and laughed nervously, his mouth filling with cotton as both sides of the argument clearly looked for his backing.

“I-I don’t know?” He finally replied, the words sounding small and useless, only making everyone madder, “I wouldn’t mind trying I guess. Seeing if if it works out, ya know?”

Hero perked up here, shooting Basil a grateful smile. Aubrey seemed vindicated and her anger began to melt. The tension eased out of the air, and Basil breathed out. It was all going to be okay now. It was just a regular Kel and Aubrey fight. They would hug the way Hero always forced them to at the end of their arguments, and then the five of them could enjoy the afternoon together.

“Kel, if Basil is okay with it then it’s fine. Why don’t you two hug and make up and then-”

“What if I’m not okay with it, Hero?!” Kel exploded, cutting his brother off, “What about that?!”

Stunned silence coupled with an even stronger tension surrounding the group. Kel and Aubrey fighting he could understand, even Kel and Aubrey dragging Hero in to play referee he could understand, but never before had Basil seen Kel yell at Hero. Kel worshipped the ground Hero walked on, his big brother could do no wrong, and Basil had never seen any evidence that he ever had.

But Kel wasn’t done yet, and he continued his yelling. It was like something had cut into him with those words, and now that something, dark and black, was finally getting a chance to leak out of Kel. Basil knew all about Somethings. About how painful it was to live with them, about how they always eventually burst out and demanded to be seen. He just had never thought Kel might have a Something too.

“It isn’t fair that they get to spend years being terrible people. and then just act like they never did any of it. It isn’t fair that I have to just pretend like they weren’t awful to me. Like I didn’t spend most afternoons crying on my walk home because of them. Like I didn’t have to second guess everything single thing I did because they made me think that I was a bully.”

Basil had remembered hearing them calling Kel that before, and it had confused him then too. Kel had never done anything like bullying to anyone, but Basil had dismissed it. It seemed so ridiculous to him, he thought Kel would have just let it go too. Apparently not

“All I’ve ever done is try to help. I smiled and laughed and pretended like nothing bothered me because that’s what everyone else needed. And what did that get me? A bat to the face and being told by my own bullies that I was the one messing with them. They’re the bullies. Mean, angry bullies who I never did anything to. Except try to be friends with you.” Kel finally pulled his eyes to Aubrey with this final word, cutting his furious ranting off with a half laugh half sob. He brought his knees up to his chest and put his arms on top of them. He wasn’t crying, but the pain in his eyes was enough to make Basil’s own chest ache in sympathy.

“And then you let them call me a bully. When I didn’t do anything except try to help.”

Kel dropped his head against his knees, hiding and breathing harshly. His shoulders rose and fell. Up and down and up and down as he panted with exertion from his outburst of emotion. None of them made a sound. Basil wouldn’t have known what to say after that, and he was sure no one else did either. They also couldn’t have been prepared for the final blow that was about to be dealt.

“You all just wanna pretend like none of it ever happened...like all that time didn’t matter.” Kel’s voice was muffled, but the words hit all of them like a punch to the gut.

It wasn’t just about this one fight, it wasn’t even just about Aubrey’s friends. It was bigger, stretching out for years and years of suffering that had never been addressed. Basil’s breath caught in his throat, and he could see the others were in a similar state of shock. He looked down at his interlocked fingers, his stomach twisting up in knots.

It was so easy to forget with Kel. It was so simple to just get lost in his happy go lucky personality and his endless bounds of optimism. He always had time for them all, always willing to go that extra mile to help out his friends when they needed him.

He hadn’t given up on them. He hadn’t stopped knocking on Sunny’s door, even when he never answered. He hadn’t stopped saying hi to Basil, even when he didn’t say hi back. He hadn’t stopped encouraging Hero, even when Hero had no encouragement left to offer in return. He had even still looked for the good in Aubrey, when she had nothing good to say about him. That was just who Kel was, someone who kept trying.

But Basil knew better than any of them that a person could only be pushed so far before there was a part of them that was cracked and bleeding and needed others to heal it. Kel was a nice person, a happy person, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his moments of doubt. The times where he needed to rely on them instead of the other way around. He never pushed, so no one ever was forced to notice all the bad thoughts and emotions piling up under that sweet sunshine smile. It was just easy to forget that those things existed behind his joy and his upbeat attitude.

They were the people who should have remembered to look. They were the ones who should have known. They had all wanted things to go back to the way they were, but the truth was they couldn’t.

There was no way to erase four years, no way to let go of what had happened to Mari. It existed, it was real, and all of them had tried to ignore it. All except for Kel, who had done everything he could to hold them all together without so much as a complaint. He was right, instead of acknowledging his sacrifices, they had acted like none of it had ever happened. That was what was unchallenging, that was what took no effort. But that was also what was killing Kel inside.

He didn’t know what they could say that would even start to mend four years of their friend trying and failing and continuing to try against all hope. What could a person say to that kind of dedication? What kind of thanks could be given to someone who took on that burden without a word until it had nearly crushed him?

It turned out that Basil didn’t need to know the answer. There was someone else who did.

Aubrey rose up from her spot across from Kel on the picnic blanket and plopped down next to him, turning her head away from the other boy. Her hand moved to his, settling on his elbow and grabbing his attention. Kel raised his head, staring silently at her as she looked at him from the side.

Basil didn’t know what conversation the two of them had without words, but he suspected he would never know. Things like that were only ever meant for two people, and even asking about it was treading on something sacred. Whatever it was, it was enough for Kel to uncurl from the position he had put himself in. He sat on his knees facing Aubrey, and she turned to do the same. She took a deep breath and raised her head, meeting his gaze fully.

“I’m sorry,”

It wasn’t much, when it came down to it. It wasn’t a long speech filled with tears and impassioned pleas. Aubrey wasn’t on her knees begging for forgiveness, or making promises to be better. She hadn’t even said it in a special tone or in a whisper meant just for the two of them. It was an apology, nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't really much, but it felt so big. They were all touched by her words, all impacted by the enormity of such a small but profound statement. Sunny edged closer and leaned against Basil, and the weight against his side was warm and grounding. He looked down at the top of Sunny’s head, and the vines looping around his spine eased away once more.

When he turned back, Aubrey and Kel were hugging, sitting up on their knees and clutching hard to one another. He wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but it wasn’t something he had ever seen. Basil has only ever seen them giving each other quick little hugs, or the awkward side squeezes Hero demanded after their fights. But this wasn’t either of those. It was genuine and real, and they both seemed a little reluctant when they pulled apart.

Hero, ever the older brother, beamed and pulled the basket to the center of their group, changing the subject to the food that he and Kel made. To anyone outside of their group, it might have seemed like a callous way to change the subject, but the other four were grateful for something to switch their minds to.

With the moment over, Aubrey went back to her usual brusque, digging into the basket and pulling out a sandwich and bottle of water. She grabbed the food and Sunny’s hand, dragging him over to one of the corners and demanding to hear about his new house. Sunny obliged her, talking about his room and the renovation plans his mother had begun.

Kel drifted over to Hero, falling against his brother’s side and leaning his head against Hero’s shoulder. Basil didn’t interrupt, but he watched Hero wrap Kel in his arms and whisper in his ear, something that had to be comforting given how Kel nodded and snuggled closer to his brother. Hero squeezed Kel and turned to Basil.

“How’s the new garden coming along?”

#Ugh that ending #Bleh #But I also don't have timme to doubt #anwyays!#omori fic #omori #omori kel #omori hero #omori sunny #omori basil #omori aubrey #angst #picnics #I just #hhhhhhh idk

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

sinner | bucky barnes

word count; 14,861

summary; bucky is spending the one day he get’s to walk the earth freely the way he usually does. normal demon things. then, he meets his angel.

notes; I got carried away, nothing else to say. the pic is pretty much exactly how I picture demon!bucky looking. also, I did not proofread this, because it’s three am. take it easy on me if it’s riddled with grammatical fuck-ups.

warnings; it’s literally called ‘sinner’. you can work out the warnings.

Bucky didn’t mean to run into you, in fact, you certainly weren’t what he was looking for as he wandered the aisles of a grocery store at two in the morning, but he still had hours before the day really began and the fun could really start, but sometimes he’d find runaways or strays who were so high he thought they surely shouldn’t be able to stand, who he could convince to do a little theft, but then there was you.

Here he was, making the absolute most of the first few hours of the one day that demons were allowed to walk the earth, darkness still filling the sky and a cold breeze that was more than enough to make him shivering the coolness of the late-year air, and then you’d strolled in.

An angel on earth, literally.

He’d heard tales, girls so pretty they could bring you to your knees, an aura that glowed and glittered, all things holy and magical, and the absolute opposite of him, and he was drawn to you from the second that you’d stepped into the building. The cashier behind the till was just a kid, snoozing against his hand as the addict in aisle three continues to shove chocolate bars into his pocket, upon hearing whisperings that he should - something Bucky was still smirking about - as he followed you around towards the bread section.

He could see you more clearly now, and you really were gorgeous. Soft skin, covered mostly by hospital scrubs, and he tried to cover his scoff, finding it absolutely typical that an angel would be here working in a hospital, some kind of selfless act, and he wouldn't be at all surprised if you were a volunteer too, just to really rub your altruistic nature into everybody else’s faces. That was the one thing he didn’t understand, he didn’t get how everybody looked up to Heaven and prayed to a God or deity, how nobody thought it odd how they were all constantly being shamed by bars they could never reach, set so high they weren’t even in sight anymore, but then again, he didn’t like to judge.

Not when his own actions would be so heavily frowned upon, but what can you expect from a demon? It’s in his nature.

You were tired, you weren’t paying much attention, a scrap of paper in your hands that look awfully similar to the back of a prescription as you moved through the store, trying to fill your basket with everything you’d need, none the wiser as he tailed you slowly, studying you, trying to work it out. From all the stories he’d heard, angels had left the earth long ago, so long that their existence at all had become something that he’d heard questioned many times in the underworld, and so he couldn't quite work out why you were herein a gas station store in the first few hours of Halloween morning.

He wanted answers, he wanted to get a little closer, confirm it all for himself, and as you spun around to head to the checkout, you crashed right into him, a yelp leaving you as you jumped back, and your eyes finally met his, once you had steadied yourself. One look into his eyes, a quick flicker around the edges of his body as he was certain you could see his own aura, tainted and stained with darkness, before your eyes were going infinitely wider, and the basket in your hands fell to the floor with a crash.

The items scattered around his feet, tins rolling away and disappearing under shelves, and that exhaustion you’d once had was fading away, replaced with shock and fear, and as you took a step back, he took another step forwards, crowding you up into the shelves, a hand on either side of your head to keep you kept from leaving, and a smirk took over as he watched you tremble a little.

“Demon.”

You hissed the word out like an insult, and he feigned offence, before that wicked smirk he knew he was wearing twisted up into a sinister grin, head tipping to the side just a little. “Well, hey there, angel.”

“What do you want?”

“You’re very hostile. I haven’t even done anything to you.” He paused, eyes scanning over your face, closing in on the place where you were nibbling on your lower lip anxiously. “Yet.”

“If you’re going to kill me, then just kill me, demon. Get it over with.” You were shaking now, full-blown fear, and he let out a little sigh, dropping his hands but remaining where he stood.

“There’s no fun in that, is there?” You only scowled, standing strong in spite of the fact that he could practically hear your heart beating out of your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means; what are you doing on Earth, on all Hallow’s Eve?” You had the guts to shove at his shoulders a little, pushing past him to begin to collect your shopping back up, and he sank down into a squat, tipping the basket back to the way it should be, and placing the items back within it carefully, waiting for your answer.

“I live on Earth, and I’m running late to get home. Away from the likes of you.”

He handed you back your basket as the two of you stood, having gathered everything you could find, and he let out a low ‘oooh’ in teasing at your words, laughing through it as the furrow between your brows only deepened. “I thought angels didn’t live here anymore, not holy enough for you once it was corrupted with sin, so you all retreated back up to the promised lands, to spit on the rest of us from the clouds.” He sneered it a little, he couldn’t help it, but you avoided his eyes, shoulders sinking as you shrugged.

“Yes, well, that would be spectacular and all, but they don’t let halfbreeds into Heaven.” He waited, walking alongside you as you moved towards the counter, and he would laugh at his own image if he could see himself now, but somehow, here he was, wasting the only day of the year that he was free to walk around the surface and escape from the depths of the underworlds by helping you pack your groceries. “My father was one of them, and my mother was not. I’m just a cast out. Earning my way.”

“Interesting.”

You only deadpanned, punching your PIN into the machine a little more aggressively than he thought would be normal for you, but then again, you were on edge, and even with your soured mood, you still wished a cheery goodnight to the kid behind the register that made him sick with the amount of earnest goodwill lacing your tone. “What do you want from me, if not to kill me? Is this part of the thrill for you, to make me let me guard down and then to kill me?”

“I don’t want to kill you.”

“All demons want to kill people.” You stopped short at the door, and he almost bumped into you, close to dropping the bags in his arms as he avoided the collision, raising his brows a little bit as you glared at him, before snatching your backs from his arms and taking a wide step back from him.

“I see I’m not the only ones with misguided ideas about the other.” He tried to take a step forward, but you twisted away from him, protective of your groceries and your life. “Not all demons want to kill. Some of us just get our kicks by convincing people to commit petty crimes and scaring kids on Halloween night. Well, that and stealing candy from babies, obviously.”

He could see the way you tried to suppress your amusement, but your lips flicked up at the sides, and you dropped your shoulders, seeming to give in. Your eyes rolled slightly, before you were moving once again, clearly trusting him enough to let him walk you over to his car, and he held your bags for you as you opened it, loading them into the trunk before slamming it shut, leaning against the cold metal. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, demons can only come up to the surface on H-”

“No, I don’t mean here.” You waved your arms, making a large circle that he supposed was supposed to represent the Earth, before you were pointing at the building behind you both, shaking your head. “I meant here. Like, the grocery store. Surely that’s wasting your one day.”

“Well, I met you, didn’t I, angel?”

“Stop being so.. flirty.” You shuffled uncomfortably under his stare, your true nature showing through, and a shock of thrill and excitement raced through him, tucking some hair behind your ear, before you shook him off.

“Can’t help it. It’s in my nature. Lust, and the other ‘deadly’ sins, as such.” You didn’t reply, and as much as he hated to admit it, you were the most exciting thing that had happened to him in decades of Halloweens, so he gave in, moving a half-step away for you again to give you your space. “Not much to do at this hour, except kill people in alleyways. But, that’s not really my style.”

“I see.”

“Can I be brutally honest with you?”

“Have you lied to me, already? We’ve only known each other for twenty minutes. Then again, you are a sinner.” He chuckled at your pathetic jab, but shook his head in denial, soothing you a little.

“Your life sucks.”

“It does not!” You crossed your arms over your chest, foot stomping a little, and it was an adorable display of anger if he was being true to his thoughts.

“Yeah? Let me guess, you’re wearing scrubs so I reckon you work at a hospital or care facility, probably a volunteer too, or you do some kind of volunteer work to fill your time. You took a night shift tonight to cover for someone else, because you just can’t say ‘no’, even though you should’ve been inside keeping safe from ‘the likes of me’, as you put it, and I bet you’ve never even been kissed. You’re pure, completely and totally, you probably have a routine, oatmeal for breakfast, Church on Sundays, bible on the bedside table.”

You gaped at him, jaw hanging slack now, and he reached a finger up to push it closed, and you soon formed an irritated pout in response.

“So, did I get anything wrong?”

“No.” You grumbled it under your breath, gritted out angrily, and he only laughed in response, winding you up further. Your foot swung out, colliding with his ankle before you even realised you were doing it, and as he bent over, crippled to grip at the sore patch in pain, your eyes went wide, fear suddenly flashing over your features again. I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I did that!”

“That would be wrath.” You shook your head, stepping away from him, and he could only nod in response, grin getting wider as he watched realisation flash across your features. “How did your first sin feel?”

“It doesn’t count! It was just a kick to the ankle!”

“Yes, in anger. That would be wrath, angel. It’s not that bad, trust me.” Your eyes were glassy now, and he placed a hand over your jaw, calloused pad stroking over the skin of your cheek as he tipped your head upwards. “See? No lightning strikes, no plagues, no punishments. And don’t you just feel so much better now that you’ve done it?”

“A little bit.” You gave in, letting his corruption really take place, and your eyes dropped down to find his, tearing your gaze away from dark and glittering skies. “I’m not a sinner, though. I’m good.”

“Yes, but this day is bad. Nobody is looking today. You liked it, I know you did. Don’t you want to try another sin? Just on this oh-so-evil day, and tomorrow, you can go back to being a good girl. Be bad with me today, angel?” You didn’t reject him, not right at once, and he took that as a good sign, your breath hitching as he stepped a little closer, enough for him to be able to taste the coffee on your breath at the short and sharp puffs you let out. “Have you never wondered? Which one have you always wanted to try, late at night, when it was just you and your thoughts? Is it pride? Gluttony?” He leaned in, enough to brush his lips with your own, your breath hitching in your throat. “Is it lust?”

“Sloth.”

“What?” He snapped back a little, not sure he’d ever really expected a response from you, and he felt a gleeful fire burn through you as you took your first step away from holiness and more towards him, just at the simple admittance, to both yourself and to him. Swallowing thickly, he watched as your mind spun, processing your own words, before you were seeming to settle on them with confidence.

“I have a routine, just as you said. I get up early every morning, and have breakfast, and do some work. I volunteer at a shelter and I do rounds at the hospital even when it’s not my day in, just to pray with those who want some company, but some days I don’t want to. I’m tired, and I want to sleep in. I want to lay in bed until late morning, and fake calling in sick to work just to have a day off, to do anything I want.” You had your own smile now, something brand new flickering through your eyes, and as you looked at him, and he laughed breathlessly at the confession.

“So, do it.”

“I-” You seemed to remember who you were, and where you were, then disappointment took over. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s wrong.” He sighed, hand dropping down to your waist, pulling you closer into him, and he could feel the steady thumb of your racing heart against his chest now, and he wished his own would react at all, but it had been so long since he’d felt anything from the organ that he’d almost forgotten he had it at all.

“If it’s so wrong then why does it feel so right?” You had no response to that, rendered breathless again, and he took his chance, pushing the boundaries a little further. “Give me this one day, I bet we can fit all seven sins into this day, when nobody will notice your sins when mixed with all the demons roaming the surface, and if you don’t like it, then I promise you’ll never see me again, and you’ll never have to think about it.”

“We can stop at any time?”

“Whenever you want.”

You hummed under your breath, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, before caving and offering him a nod. “Big words for someone who only has twenty-one hours left of the day to keep his promises.”

“Well, then, we’d better get you home, angel. You have a big day coming up, and I know just which sin to start with. Let’s get you that late morning you’ve always wanted.” You merely sighed out, contented and happy with the thought, before you were nodding, and turning around to get into your car. Nodding to the passenger side, his grin only grew as he took the offer, climbing in beside you, and settling into the plush leather as the vehicle rumbled to life.

After an exceedingly long sleep in, one where you’d actually then continued to just lie in your bed for upwards of an hour after the daylight had forced away your grogginess, you were left peering out of the window, staring down at the city below from the high-windows of your apartment, the bustling streets with a chaos that didn’t reach all the way up here to the serene quiet, and your lips flicked up at the sides as you remembered the comment that the man who’ already managed to flip your world upside down had made as the two of you had finally made it back to your apartment at almost four in the morning

‘Top floor, huh? Trying to get closer to heaven, or just in it for the workout?’

Turning onto your side, his lips were parted as he slept, slow breaths and a sight rasp following his breath each tie, but not quite a snore. As he was asleep, you had a chance to really observe him. You’d never met a demon, before, you knew the rumours, of course, and some of them were more tame, auras of darkness and a twisted kind of ugly that made you repulsed. Of course, there were also the wilder ones, horns and hooves and rotting flesh, but he was neither.

When you took him in, you decided that he was actually kind of beautiful. Scruff lining his jaw that made him look a little wild - something that was bound to be intentional - and the colour of his eyes flashed through your mind once again even if they were coed now. The colour was burned into your mind, not a glowing red, or all black, but instead the kind of soft blue shade that the ocean looked on a misty morning at the beach, grey clouds overhead that were the calm before the storm.

He was taller than you, much taller, and his frame almost filled your bed, broad shoulders pushing you to one side, further over than you’d ever slept before, even on the large piece of furniture, but he’ insisted that he wasn’t sleeping on ‘no damn couch’, and in your exhaustion and excitement, you’d simply waved a hand as he kicked off his shoes, crawling under the covers beside you. The comfort had been inviting, you’d never experienced such a thing before, but it was oddly peaceful to share a bed with someone else, to feel their warmth creeping over to you as well, the steady thump of a heart or the rise and fall of a chest with every breath, and you hadn't realised how lonely you were until right now.

“Stop fuckin’ starin’ at me.” You huffed, watching as that peaceful expression became a scowl, and he rolled over towards you a little, cracking an eye open to peer up at you. “What?”

“Nothing! You’re just not like what I thought a demon would look like. I’m taking it in.”

He sat up a little, running a hand over his face, before shaking his he'd to try and clear a sleep-muddled brain. “Yeah, well, you’re exactly what I expected an angel to look like.”

“I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.” Despite the bickering going on between you both, his movements had caused the blankets to lip down, a chill coming in to claim you, and you shuffled a little closer to him, seeking out more of the warmth you’d become addicted to in the last few hours of sleeping beside him.

“It’s neither. Just a statement. Innocent, pretty, that whole weird ethereal vibe that draws you in. That's you.”

“That sounds like a compliment to me.” You all but sang the words, and he rolled his eyes, a grunt leaving him, but he made no move to distance himself from you, and so you knew it was all in false anger.

“I’m revisiting the idea of killing you.” His eyes flicked up to the large clock on the wall, studying it for a second, before turning to look at you incredulously. “I thought we were sleeping in? It's eleven.”

“I normally get up at six! This is late for me, very late.”

He only shrugged, pushing back the covers and standing up, letting you wrap yourself in them a little more, before he was patting down his pockets, searching for something in the jeans that had been abandoned on the bedroom floor. A cardboard box and a lighter, and he was balancing a cigarette between his lips.

“Open a window!”

He only glanced over at you, raising his brows, before stepping across the room to the large panels of glass, clicking off the lock and pushing one open, before flicking on the lighter and igniting the tip. He held it between two careful fingers, a repetitive motion as he brought it up and down from his lips, lips curling each time he expelled the smoke, and it was a weirdly hypnotic scene to watch.

The sound of the traffic and bustle from below was now reaching your ears, muffled and distant but you could still pick it up, the bitter smell of smoke still making it over to you, and your nose scrunched up a little, before you were holding the blanket closer to yourself, and making your way over to stand beside him.

“You’re staring at me like you’ve never seen a cigarette before.”

“I have!” He chuckled a little at your eager enthusiasm, heat rising to your cheeks with your embarrassment, and you shrugged as best you could, from where your hands were pressed to your chest to hold the blankets closed and keep your warmth in. “I’ve just never..”

“Smoked one?”

You only nodded, and he seemed to consider it, taking an extra-long drag, before he was pulling the dwindling stick away from his mouth, flipping it between two fingers, and bringing it to your mouth. He had an expectant look on his face, nothing pressuring or judgemental, simply apprehensive, waiting to see if you’d take the offer before the flickering orange reached his fingers and burned him. The taste was lingering on the air, and you leaned in, lip parted and he grinned, placing it gently on your lower lip, pushing forwards until the edge of his finger was brushing your lips, and he gave you a nod.

Sealing your mouth around it, you took in a deep breath, dragging the air through the device, and the heat that coursed through you was enough to make you pull away and cough, a tingling and burning in your throat and lungs as the smoke clouded out around you, dissipating in the air, and you once again flushed with embarrassment, but the laugh you anticipated hearing from him never came. Instead, he looked almost proud, and you didn’t have a chance to question it, before he was taking the last breath himself, stuffing it on your window frame and ignoring your complaint, before flicking the butt out of the window and closing it once again.

“So, what are we doing with the day now?”

“Hm, well, I promised you all seven. One down, six to go. I’m hungry, so let’s go with gluttony next.” His eyes twinkled a little, and you thought about the sparsely packed fridge you had, just enough simple necessities to get you by and be healthy, nothing that could be deemed even remotely gluttonous, but you were excited to experience it, nonetheless. “There’s a diner near here, we’ll go for breakfast.”

As promised, you are allowed to take even longer, the longest shower you had ever taken in your life, until the entire room was so filled with steam that it felt like a sauna, and you were pruning up. You didn’t even bother to make your bed, instead opting to just lay flat on it for a while, still in your towel as you listened to the demon you were - for some unknown reason - trusting, as he moved about your living room and tinkered with your things.

When you were finally ready, you didn’t care to make the bed, or put on sensible shoes with laces, or even do your hair properly. Instead, you wore a hoodie, and your comfiest flats, and just ran a brush through it, and you’d never felt lazier in your life. You had spent every day doing yourself up to standards and making sure you were being sensible and rational, the proper attire for a day at work, running around a hospital and doing everything you could for everyone else, and nothing for you, and today, you’d texted in saying you were sick and weren’t coming and you’d relaxed, truly relaxed, for what you felt may be the first time in your life.

As promised, you were given a filling breakfast, with more than enough leftovers for a week’s worth of breakfasts, but you didn’t take any of them. At first, it had bothered you, watching as the waitress stared at you both with a little bit of judgement, a little bit of shock, and a little bit of amusement as the man opposite you had listed off dish after dish, until you’d been moved to a bigger table just to accommodate it all. With a bite of it all, you’d worked your way through the dishes, and the drinks, a sip from all of their wide range of coffees and milkshakes, and by the time you’d finished and enough food to feed a small army had been wasted, you were wandering out into the carpark with a wide grin on your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this full.”

He turned to look at you, beaming as you spoke the words as though they’d been a compliment, and you began to pat your pockets down for your keys, a wave of panic washing over you when you couldn't find them. A moment later, there was a jingling, and you followed the sounds, to find Bucky waving them at you, smirking around the straw in his mouth as he finished his milkshake, tossing the to-go cup in the vague direction of the trashcan.

“When did you even take those? How did you take those?”

“I’m not exactly new to pick-pocketing.” He shrugged, holding open the passenger side door for you, and you hopped up inside of it, grinning as he rounded the car, and it would seem that he was taking it upon himself to drive. Once he was inside of the car and starting it up, his hands were fiddling with the dial for the music, changing your classical music station over to some soft rock, and while it was unfamiliar to you, you tried to settle into it.

“You’re different.”

“We’ve covered this.” He mumbled, fingers tapping against the steering wheel to the song that was playing, and you turned a little more towards him straining against the safety belt across your chest, and not missing the fact that he hadn't bothered with his own.

“No, I just mean, you’re gentlemanly. You held the door, paid for breakfast, didn’t try anything with me last night, even though we shared a bed. It’s admirable.”

“Well, firstly, I didn’t pay for breakfast.” Your face paled a little, realising you’d essentially stolen the meal, but then again, you shouldn't know better. When he told you to go ahead and that he’d been right behind you, you hadn't questioned it, and now, that felt like it was slapping you right in the face. That’s where innocence gets you, you supposed. “Secondly, as I said, we already covered this. You do know there’s, like, tiers for this shit, right?” You only gave a short laugh, turning to look at him a little, and you could already feel your own mischief bubbling up within you.

“You mean the seven circles of hell?”

“Oh, you’re so funny.” He was grumbling now, pretty-coloured eyes rolling in his head, and you continued to snicker away to yourself, but didn’t miss the little flicker of his lips into a smile, that he did his best attempt to disguise as a simple twitch, but you knew better. “No, not the ‘seven circles of hell’.” He imitated your movie as you spoke, a scowl taking over your features at the poor impersonation, but it was quickly washed away. “More like, privileges, I suppose? Those down there because they’re not pure enough to go to all things good and dandy go down below.”

“So, how does it work, then?” He cast you a little glance, studying you for a second, deeming you to have a genuine interest, before one shoulder was raising and falling in a simple shrug.

“Those who are, like, the bad kind of bad get it, well, bad. People who killed for fun, the people who hurt others for their own enjoyment, people who do, y’know..” He didn’t have to say it, your face screwing up as you thought about exactly the sort of people who would count as ‘bad-bad’ and he nodded. “No privileges for them. They just get to suffer.”

It went quiet for a second, and you could practically see the cogs working in your new friend's mind as he tried to sort his thoughts out.

“Then, there are people who did bad things, but it’s not serial-killer bad, y’know?”

“Oh, like tax-fraud and grand theft auto?” He let out a laugh this time, entertainment shining through.

“Technically, yes. I don’t really know how it all divides up. It’s just my job to punish people who need punishing, I don’t ask questions.” That caught your attention, and you perked up slightly, ignoring the fact that you’d pulled into your building’s parking lot, and that the rest of the journey was over, the car coming to a halt, but instead, you were more intrigued about finding out more from the man before you.

“You punish people? The bad people?”

“Yeah. I suppose you can consider today my day off.” He grinned, moving to climb out of the car, and you struggled to follow him, falling into step beside him.

“But, doesn’t that make you good? Getting justice and all?”

“I never said I wasn’t good, angel.” He cast you a look from the sides of his eyes, a little put off by the insinuation you’d made. “I’m created in hell. I don’t really have a soul, or anything that would let me into Heaven. Besides, I do enjoy doing some of the things that would get me cast out.”

“Like what?”

You regretted asking the question from the second you’d asked it, a smirk taking over his features, and he turned to you in the doorway, finger under your chin to hold your face up towards his as he leaned down a little, breath washing over your face as your heart froze in your chest. “Like fucking.”

He watched you, heat crawling up your cheeks as your eyes went even wider, and he grinned, eyes flicking down to your mouth, licking over his lips for just a second, before he was pulling away.

“We can get to that later, though.”

He was ahead of you, long legs making wide steps as he crossed the lobby to the elevator back up to your apartment, and you had to race just to catch up with him. “So, do you have horns?”

“What?”

You slipped in just as the doors to the elevator were closing, and he scowled, clearly having been hoping he’d be able to cut you off, and you almost wished he had, because you'd forgotten just how cramped his large frame made the small box feel. “Y’know, like-” you lifted up each hand to the top of your head, index fingers sticking up as the rest of the fingers curled into a fist. “-horns?”

“Do you have wings?”

You felt a little taken aback by his sneer, lips pursing as you realised he’d taken your joke the wrong way, and you passed by a few floors in silence, before he let out a deep sigh, shoulders slumping slightly.

“No, I don’t have horns.” He looked around the ceiling of the building when you stepped out of the elevator, a hand on your arm to bring you to a halt in the corridor, and he must’ve deemed it safe, before his fidgeting stopped. “I have something, but it’ll freak you out if I show you.”

“I can handle it.”

“I don’t think so, angel.” You huffed, and he continued on, car keys being used to find your house key, the door swinging open, and you followed after, complaints spilling from your lips as you did, and you caught the door as it swung closed, before it had a chance to hit you in the face.

“I can handle it! You're underestimating me!”

“Am I?” He was making himself comfortable once again, already going through the contents of your fridge, pulling back with the carton of orange juice, and you cringed as he popped the lid from it and took a swig right from the bottle. “You’re just a half-angel. You can’t take it.”

Anger boiled within you, and you weren’t sure where this side of him had come from. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You gaped, jabbing an accusatory finger into his chest as he finished off the orange juice of your own that was supposed to last you all week. “I’ll have you know that I’m a lot stronger than you think. I work in a hospital, okay? I can take whatever twisted shit it is that you have to show me. I can take a lot of things, alright, pal? I think I do pretty well for myself, actually! I mean, if you haven’t noticed, you’re standing in my penthouse apartment, drinking orange juice that I bought, after recklessly driving my fancy car, so screw you. I can handle anything you could throw at me and more, you’re just rude.”

His head tipped to the side, and you let out a ragged breath, not giving him a chance to speak, before you were continuing;

“And, for that matter, I think I’ve done pretty well all around. I have a great job, and I do good work there, and I have spent over two decades avoiding the likes of you, living all on my own, so this little hitch that came in the form of you doesn’t matter, because even after today, I’ll still be doing pretty damn good. ‘Can’t take it’, yeah, well, you can shove your freaky demon thing that you refuse to show me somewhere that the sun doesn’t shine, okay?”

You huffed out, and he crossed his arms over his chest, neutral expression cracking out into a wide grin. “That was a great speech, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, thanks.” You were confused, caught off guard by the praise after you were given, your mind still spinning.

“You seem pretty happy with everything you have here. Would you say you take pride in it?” You almost retorted, a witty comeback at the tip of your tongue, before you realised what this had all been about, your shoulders slumping, and you dropped your head into your hands, a weak laugh on your lips and you climbed up onto one of the stools at your kitchen island.

“You got me all worked up into a rage for pride?”

“You’ve achieved some pretty amazing things in your life, and you should be proud of them anyway, even if it’s not for sin.”

You paused, eyes meeting his own, and for a second, the whole misconception of an angel and demon sitting across from one another being the kind of thing that would end worlds seemed to fade away, you were just a regular man and a woman, sharing the moment and sitting together on a lazy morning. He cleared his throat, looking around the room, not for anything particular, just to take it all in, before coming back to look at you, with something else in his eyes this time.

“Well, that’s another one crossed off of the list, anyway. I’d say we’re making pretty good progress.”

You only hummed under your breath, but he seemed to catch onto your hesitation, raising a brow at you. “Kinda’ have an idea about greed.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Do you think, maybe, you could take me there?” He stilled, the hand he’d been using to rearrange the salt and pepper holder in the middle of the marble countertop between you both fell flat.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s hell. It’s literally Hell.” He was adamant on this one, not the same kind of cocky attitude he’d had while fracking pride out of you, but this was more just a complete close down on the situation, and he didn’t even have a flicker of emotion as you glared at him, standing strong in his decision. “You can’t handle it.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m not fucking with you this time, angel.” He stood up, rounding the little countertop to stand before you, and he rested his hips against it, one hand coming up to cup at your face gently. A thumb ran over your lower lip, his eyes tracing his own movements, and you pulled back from him a little, too angry to let him hold you so tenderly, even if something deep within you was craving that kind of contact and affection with him. “Too dangerous.”

“But I want to.” You pouted at him, ignoring the little smile he gave to you as you did, and he forced his gaze back up to meet your own, shaking his head.

“What if you get stuck down there, huh? Time works differently. If it passes midnight, you won’t be able to come back.” The thought did send a flash of fear through you, and he seemed to notice it, thinking that the argument was over. “Besides, down there is where everyone else gets to show their real faces. Where you’d see mine.”

“You could just show me now, and then I wouldn’t have any kind of surprise.”

You didn’t expect him to go for that, to buy it, and you gasped a little as the man before you changed. Soft and fluffy brown hair was longer, brushing around his shoulders in strands that weren’t tied back into a bun, faded blue almost entirely taken over by black irises. His eyes were sunken a little deeper, some teeth a little sharper, jaw a little more defined, giving a much more dangerous look, the kind of intimidating you were sure was done purposefully to scare those who needed to be scared, crafted in the bowels of hell to torture the people who deserved it.

A deep pink and puffy scar ran along from the middle of his cheek and into the stubble on the right hand of his face, emerging further down along his neck. The sleeve of his left arm seemed to strain a little more now, shining metal poking out from underneath, a mixture of battered metal and shining steel, metal digits forming a fist as you stared down at the appendage.

Reaching a hand out towards him, he huffed, pulling it away from you, leaning the entire left side of his body out of your reach. “What are you doing?”

You ignored him, taking the hand in both of your own, and the coolness of it sent shocks along your nerves, goosebumps rising on your skin. He let you lift it, inspecting each finger carefully, gears shifting under your touch each time a finger moved, and he sighed as you lifted the hand, resting it over your cheek again, the same way he’d had it only moments ago, when it had been under the illusion of flesh and blood. “You still don’t scare me, Bucky.”

He let out a laugh, a breathless one, before he was closing the distance between the two of you, lips meeting your own, and a small squeak left you as his mouth pressed to your own carefully. It was all entirely new to you, feeling his other hand find your waist, nails scratching lightly at your skin through the material of your shirt, before you were placing your own hands on his shoulders, grasping at his shirt as you moved your mouth with his own.

It was slightly awkward, and slow, and you could feel yourself fumbling, but as your eyes slipped closed and you matched his rhythm, you found everything within yourself slipping away. You hadn't quite realised what it would be like, to have another person pressed up so close to you, and to know how it felt when their eyelashes tickled your cheeks the way his were know, that feelings within your stomach like fireworks were going off was making you feel lightheaded, gasps for breath each time he pulled back, twisting his head, noses bumping, before softly swollen lips were finding you once again.

It was of their own accord that your hands slipped from his shoulders to his neck, one travelling even further into his hair, gripping tightly as you pushed up into him, almost falling from your chair as your legs went weak as you tried to stand a little, and he turned you around, lower back pressing into the cool marble for support, before a low growl sounded out. It reverberated along your entire body, and you trembled a little under his hold, teeth dragged over your lower lip, before he was pulling away.

You were chasing after him, feeling his grip loosen on you and you whined, catching his lips again in a little kiss, a chuckle breaking it as he backed away enough to rest his forehead on your own.

“Don’t be greedy. I’ll kiss you again, later.”

“Or, you could kiss me now?” You teased, letting him lift you up to sitting on the countertop, and he wrapped your legs around his waist, thumb smoothing over your cheek as he felt that same embarrassed warmth flood your skin. He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw, using his nose to tilt your head back, before he was nipping lightly about the pulse point along your neck, and you weren’t in control of the sound that left you as he did, or the way your thighs tightened around his waist.

“I could, but, I thought you wanted to go to Hell.”

“I do.” You mumbled, before realising fully what he’d said, and you pulled him back by a handful of his shirt between his shoulder blades, darkened eyes finding yours in a curious gaze. “I do. Are you serious?”

“You have to promise to stay by my side.” You nodded, vehemently, a wide smile taking up on your face. “You also have to wear a watch.”

“I thought time worked differently?” You teased, and he rolled his eyes, taking your chin between his thumb and a metal forefinger, cutting off your laughs with a short kiss.

“It does, that’s the whole point. We need to know when to get you home.”

You only nodded, dropping down and disappearing, searching through your drawers and cabinets until you found the device you were looking for, checking its display against the wall clock on your bedroom wall, and thanking your lucky stars that it still displayed the correct time. You were attaching it to your wrist and waving it at him proudly as you reemerged, and he held his hand out for you.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Well, you only live once, right?” He huffed, fixing you with a pointed stare, and you burst out in a series of little laughs at your own words. “Well, some of us only live once, anyway.” He took your hand in his, barely letting you swipe up your keys before you were following him out of the door and back towards the stairs, stumbling over your own feet slightly. “Am I going to have to die for us to get there?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?” The crackling in his voice was amusement, and you shrugged, letting him guide you through the door that said ‘staff only’, and at this point, you’d stopped even questioning his actions.

“Well, I don’t exactly see a lot of portals to hell on my day-to-day travels.”

“It’s like a door that only demons can open. On this day, of all days. Sorta’ like a magnet, you just think about it, and it pulls you to where you're supposed to be.” It wasn’t exactly a description that set you at ease, and as you made it to the top of the staircase he was pulling you up, you were met with the sight of the sprawling skyline, the sounds of a busy city filled with people who were none the wiser to your current situation going about their mundane lives below, and even after today, you know you’d never be that same mundane person again.

Stepping out onto the roof, you were in awe, never having ventured up and gotten to appreciate it, and while your apartment was high up and the view was the same, it was more the experience that was leaving you speechless.

“Are you ready?”

When you followed the sound of his voice, he was standing on the edge of the building, hand held out to you once again, and you weren’t sure when you’d ever slipped away from him. You wandered over, nausea sweeping across you as you leaned over the edge to look down, the people on the streets below looking more like specks in the distance, and you pulled back rapidly. “To jump off the roof? That’s seriously the way to go?”

“It’s the fun way.”

You scoffed, knowing he was just doing it to mess with you, and he took your hands in his, guiding your gaze back up to his face. Wrapping your arms around his neck, and you held on tightly, feeling him grip your waist, pulling you in close.

“Just trust me, angel.”

For whatever reason, you did. You had full faith in a man who’d you’d only known for twelve hours, feeling him inch the two of you towards the edge, up onto the ledge, until you were precariously balanced, and your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest. Pressing your face into his neck, his grip on you became bruising, and then you were falling.

The floor fell away, and you were racing downwards, hair whipping around your face as your eyes squeezed shut, that floating feeling becoming more like you were being dragged down. It was cold, biting cold, and utterly terrifying, and then it all just stopped. There was ground beneath your feet again, blood wasn’t pounding in your ears as you found yourself upright once again, and you were only dizzy from the way you’d held your breath, not from tumbling such a distance, and you forced yourself to exhale, slowly.

When you pulled away from him, the hand stroking soothingly up and down your back then stopped, and he lifted it to smooth down your hair instead. Whereas in your apartment, he’d seemed out of place and daunting in his own skin, now, he seemed to fit in perfectly. Shadows cast across his face made his features stand out, strong and bold, and instead of being scared you felt protected by his presence. It wasn’t nearly as loud as you’d expected it to be, and it was the exact opposite of what you’d pictured.

Instead of burning pits of fire and tortured screams, it was much like what Earth was, buildings and pathways and doors along each one, a reflection of the home you’d known so well, just with a little more destruction. He seemed to already know exactly what you were thinking, smirking his eyes a little, but you just accepted it, taking it all in. There was a bump against your lower leg, something soft that made you jump, and the man holding you chuckled. Turning, you watched a little cat run away. It had a torn ear and was missing an eye when it looked back at you, before it was dating through an open door before it closed, and you gaped a little as you lost sight of the orange-furred little critter.

“That was a cat.”

“Well, yes.” He deadpanned, hissing at the way you pinched his arm roughly for his words, and he mumbled under his breath about being careful before you ‘inadvertently achieved wrath’. “Haven’t you ever heard about cats being the guardians of the underworld?”

“In, like, Egyptian mythology, maybe.”

“Yeah, well, all myths and fables come from somewhere, right? Everything you’ve heard is just one interpretation of the same thing. Like versions of a story.” He offered, and you felt like every answer you got became all the more confusing, like you had no real idea about the world you’d been living in at all, until now. “C’mon. We have much to do, and little time.”

“What are we going to do?”

“You wanted to come here, that’s your choice.” He shrugged, and you gave him a blank look, as though you had any idea about what you were supposed to be doing. He seemed to pick up on it, a smile on his lips, before he was slinging an arm over your shoulders, and beginning to guide you away towards a door only a few down from one that you’d seen that little orange cat disappear through. When you got into the other side, you were in the hospital, the time seeming to move differently, everything around you flying by at super speed. “What’s the worst thing you ever witnessed in the hospital?”

“What?”

“The west thing. One of your patients, something you remember because it was just downright evil.” It took you a moment, but the worst one came to mind, and you felt sad witnessing it all over again.

“There was this man in here, once. Both he and the kid across from me were my patients. The kid was a car crash victim, both parents died, he was on life support, we were doing everything we could. If the kid died, he would have been the organ donor. The man smothered the kid in his sleep, we didn’t realise until the autopsy was done, by which point the guy had fled.” You shrugged, and he asked for the date, to which you mumbled, that day burned into your mind to last forever.

With a wave of his hand, that same speed that had been dizzying to watch as it moved like a movie on fast-forward was now frozen completely, and with a click, there was an entirely new setting.

Easter decorations, all around the hospital, Mercedes at the reception desk still had her hair dyed blue instead of her usual fiery red, the colour had taken a good couple of years to totally grow out; somehow, he’d taken you right back to the night that it had happened. Rainy, filled with clouds, water swilling around your car, and there was a loud storm outside. You remembered because it felt fitting, and it almost felt comforting when you’d cried in your car about it all before being able to drive home that night.

“Which room?”

“I, um, room three-oh-four.” You guided him through the halls, completely in awe of the way it resembled your place of work so clearly, and yet nobody could see it at all. You could see yourself, a younger version, standing behind the nurse's station and covering your yawn with your hand, a file in your hand as you tried to focus on it, and it was shocking to see it from such a different angle. You froze up a little as you approached the room, the two opposites, and you felt your heart crack a little at seeing that little boy alive once again, even if it was just barely. “That’s the guy.”

He followed the direction of your finger, a head of black hair in the bed across, idling himself on his phone, and Bucky stepped into the room, a sneer on his lips. Glancing at the name across the chart, he couldn't quite see it, but you already knew it anyway.

“Brock Rumlow.”

“Sounds like an asshole kinda’ name, already.” You could only nod, and just like that, Bucky was moving the timeline forwards again. Day to turned to night outside, you watched as he disappeared for a second, only to reappear a moment later, and then there was night becoming day, and he was taken to surgery, and the day flew by, bodies flying in and out, the flash of your own floral-patterned dress as you move in and out throughout the day, and then, a week later, he was leaving. It slowed, you watched as he went, following him right out of the hospital and into a cab, and he was none the wiser as in this turn of events, you and Bucky joined him.

It went by again, years flying back, Bucky’s eyes moving as he somehow seemed to see and understand every moment, before suddenly, it was all stopping. You were out of the cab, but when you left it, it was a firetruck instead. The building before you was burning, thick plumes of smoke curling up into the air, windows were broken as tall flames curled up and roared into the sky. Sirens were wailing, and water was spraying, and you could feel the heat even from here.

“Building fire.”

“Hm?” You twisted to look at him, and the demon beside you motioned up to the building.

“That’s how the universe got even with Brock Rumlow. He stole organs from a child, and he got trapped inside his apartment. He’s down here.” You felt your breath get stuck in your throat as he said those words, before you were finding his hand, gripping tightly with both, and his fingers curled back around your hand, before he was sighing, loudly. “Do you want to see him now?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, everything around you seeming to go into slow motion as he dulled the sounds, before you were pressing yourself into him a little more, feeling his lips brush against your temple as you let out a breathless laugh.

“I’ve thought so much about what I would do if I ever saw him again. Give him a piece of my mind, tell him how bad of a person he is, make him feel bad. Now, though, I’m not all that sure I could control myself.”

“Who says you have to?” You peered up at him, eyes wide, and he shrugged, cupping your face with both hands as he watched panic begin to take over you. “He’s a child killer, a selfish prick, he deserves everything he gets down here. This is a place for punishment, and maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

“Okay.”

He took your hand, the closest door to the two of you opening back up, and just like that, you were back in the stone hallways, crossing over to a wooden door, bolted from the outside, and as his hands wrapped around the handle, it changed, simplistic designs shifting to that of one you’d expect to see on a little farm cottage, before he was opening it up and ushering you inside.

“Where are we?”

“His Hell-scape.” The door scratched against cobblestones as it was pushed shut behind you. “Germany, early nineteen forties, the precipice of modern medicine. It’s cold, and he’s fled from the war, he’s taking shelter in a little farm cottage. He needs surgery, and you’re about to perform it. There’s a kid, who could donate the blood, he’s sitting over there by the fireplace.”

Just as he said that, the door swung open once again, and there he was, stumbling inside as blood seeped between his fingers, and just like that, for the first-ever time in one of these scenarios, he was looking you dead in the eyes. He begged for help, and the little boy by the fireplace looked up, wide eyes and he was on his feet, dashing over to you. He cleared the table, helping the man to lie down, like the good little soul he was, and you ushered him away upstairs. With a knife from the kitchen, you sliced open the front of his shirt, watching as blood oozed out of several bullet wounds across his front.

Blood spewed out, and for a second, guilt washed over you as you hesitated in your motions to save him, but then you were remembering everything he’d done, and you could feel the presence of Bucky behind you, the scene you’d relieved as you watched the evil take place, and you felt no regret as you pushed a finger against one of the wounds. Hard metal met your finger, blood-curdling screams from him on the table as you pushed it even deeper, before pulling away, and making sure that he was looking you in the eyes as he did.

You weren’t sure if he was able to recognise you, or whether he was completely engrossed inside of this illusion, but you swore you saw something pass over his eyes, seconds before he was passing out. Little feet were coming down the stairs, and the boy was there again, watching rivers of blood dripping into puddles as they ran from the tabletop, a teddy tucked safely in his arms as he looked up to you again.

“Are we going to save his life?”

“No.” You hummed, wiping your hands on a rag, and it was shockingly different to see the way the boy whose eye colour you’d never seen before looked, how young he really was, and you took him by the hand as you guided him up the stairs. Tucking him in and brushing the hair back out of his face, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he fell asleep before your eyes, chest rising and falling of its own accord. It wasn’t real, you felt it slipping away under your fingers, and when you made it back down the stairs, the man on the table was dead, hand hanging limp, and it all slipped away.

Darkness filled the room, the features melted away, and he guided you back to the corridors, tears sliding down your cheeks as you left it all behind.

There was concern on his face when he looked at you, but you didn’t care, because you were pulling him in by a fistful of his shirt in order to press desperate and needy kisses to his lips. He reciprocated, humming happily as his hands found your hips, smoothing around towards your back, one warm and one cold as they pressed to you, and your wet cheeks pressed to his, gasping breaths as you sought out comfort in his touch.

“Are you okay?

“I’ve never felt like this before.” He pulled back, whining a little when you kept pressing up into him, and he pushed you back a little bit, ignoring your complaints. “It’s a rush, and it felt bad but only for a second, before it felt right. Not to hurt someone else, but to serve justice. I love saving lives, I do, but that felt incredible. It felt like closure.”

“You officially checked off wrath, angel.”

“I don’t think you can call me that anymore.” You teased, and he shook his head, pulling you in close enough to brush his lips against your own. It was a fleeting kiss, something that left you desperately craving more as you burned up from the inside out.

“You’re always gonna’ be my little Halloween angel.” He grinned, trying to wipe your cheeks dry.

“I think I’m checking off envy, too.” He beamed, raising his brows in silent questioning, and you gave him a lame shrug of your shoulders in response. “I just don’t think I could go back to my regular life and be happy now, knowing there’s so much more that I could be experiencing. My job won’t be fulfilling when I know how much better it would be to do yours, and be here. I hate that you don’t worry about anything, that you haven't spent your whole life worrying if you're good enough to get into somewhere only to spend the rest of eternity keeping up those standards. I wouldn’t have to be anyone but my true self here, and now, I’m not even sure if I know who that is.”

“You could find out, though.”

“Also, there’s a girl over there who keeps looking at you and I don’t like it.” He glanced over his shoulder, noting the pretty demon who was waving at him, tight curls and red lipstick and she looked like she was straight out of the world war’s era, but then again, everybody down here seemed to be fixed in some kind of time period or another.

“Envy doesn’t suit you, angel. You much more suit pride.”

His fingertips pressed into your sides a little, tickling you lightly, and you grinned, mind leaving her as you came crashing back into a world where only you and he existed. Dipping down, his nose brushed with yours, and you closed the gap, sighing out happily when you felt the rough prickles of his beard under your palm, the other hand sliding down to rest on his chest.

The tip of a tongue traced your lower lip, and you gasped at the feeling, before his tongue was pressing through the parting and into your mouth, a needy noise slipping from you before you could control it, leaving you feeling like you were floating within the clouds as you fell even further into him. You were pressed up to him now, bodies colliding, and what was once slow and sensual suddenly felt like it was rushed and frantic. Mouths meshing, growls and whines shared between you both and you were ruining the neat bun in his hair as your hands were pushed into his mouth.

His hands were exploring too, further than they’d ever been, one solid and one fleshy and then there was a warm palm gripping tightly at your ass, squeezing the flesh there roughly, and you keened up into him even further. Metal lifted you up, your legs fastening around his waist automatically, and you could feel him moving as you gripped onto him roughly. One hand digging nails into his shoulder as the other tugged on a fistful of his hair, a ragged moan leaving his lips as the two of you stumbled through the nearest doorway. Bedsheets found your back, and you were breathing clearly again as a hot mouth travelled along your jaw.

Stinging skin, drags of his teeth over heated flesh, and you were living in a world you’d never been in before as you felt those same hands now dip underneath your shirt, beginning to push it up as he adventured further.

“Where are we?” You mumbled, eyes fixed on the low hanging lighting extension from the ceiling, and he pulled back from the mark he was working to leave on your collarbone, an incredulous look on his face as he peered up at you. Swollen and shiny lips, half-lidded eyes, and a slight shine to his skin that paired with his messy hair made him look even more sinful than he usually did.

“My, uh, my room?” You sat up a little more to take it in, and he leaned back from where he was balanced over you, letting you take it all in.

“How convenient that all the doors you need are so close together.” He grinned, shaking his head in a way that made you think you were missing something, and he pulled you to sit up a little more, the haze over you both clearing slightly.

“Sweetheart, most of the doors work like the entrances, you just have to think about where you’re going, and you go there.”

It was like your world was clearing up, and as he knelt back, you moved forwards enough to settle into his lap, a soft giggle leaving you when you felt his hands come down to grip at your ass to keep you balanced, a smirk on his face as you did. “I was kinda’ expecting, like, bones on the wall, dungeons, dark, flickering torches, the whole shebang. I’m almost disappointed that it looks like a normal bedroom.”

“You have a bad habit of believing stereotypes.” He muttered, leaning in again to take your lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it lightly, and you keened up into him, finding the mattress either side of you dipping a little as he held himself up over you. “And I thought that after everything we’d done today, you’d have reconsidered it all.”

“Well, after all we’ve done today, I still have one sin left to complete.”

He grinned, nodding his head before his mouth was closing over your own. With one warm hand gently pushing up the edge of your shirt, you let him take it, sitting up just enough to let him peel the material from your body, before he was kissing along your neck, licking and sucking his way along the flesh until it was stained with blotchy red marks that would blossom into purple bruises sooner or later.

Then, as his fingers brushed over the delicate skin of your ribs, he was letting out a breathy laugh, pulling away once his lips were grazing the edge of your bra.

“Angel, I gotta’ be honest with you. I really like you, I do, but this bra is awful.”

You looked down at yourself, head clearing for just a second, before you were groaning, shaking your head as you looked down at the garment strapped to your body. “I don’t own any other bras! They’re practical, they support me at work. I’ve never really had a reason to own fancy underwear."

You were popped up on your elbows, and he grinned wickedly, metal hand undoing the catch with a simple flick of his fingers, and then it was falling loose. “Bet you’re wearing cute little white cotton panties, too, huh?”

You could only nod, feeling a blush beginning to climb onto your cheekbones, and it was a feeling you were rapidly growing familiar with while being in his presence.

“You drive me insane, in all your innocence. Am I the first person to get near your sweet little cunt? Tell me I am, angel.”

“You are.” You were breathless, everything from the way his lips curled around the words, to the sound of his voice, right to the way his eyes raked over you in a way that could only be described as predatorily, made your body burst out in flames, craving something you didn’t even know, but you just knew you needed him to keep going, to continue with whatever it was he was doing, because he had you floating on Cloud Nine.

“I’m gonna’ take such good care of you, I promise.” As he pulled the material away from your chest, that heat was spreading down, along your neck, and yet you didn't feel anything but powerful under his gaze. You’d never expected to have this kind of life, after hearing from your mother what had happened to your father for his sins, you were determined not to follow that path, but now, you wanted it all. You didn’t care about standards and responsibilities, you just wanted to drown in the way his tongue was dragging along your stomach as he left wet kisses along your skin, until he was mouthing at the place just above your jeans, soft skin teased with lips and teeth, until he was popping the button on your jeans carefully.

He took it all, stripping you down and taking his time, mumbling praises into your skin until there was nothing else clad on you, except for the slip of cotton over your core, and he was kneeling back at the end of the bed, two large hands palming at your thighs, and he licked over his lip, dragging the lower between his teeth roughly.

“Fucking hell, angel, you’re drippin’.” A single digit, lifting to brush over your covered folds, and as you were touched so intimately, you couldn't help the gasp that slipped from you. “Ruining your panties, sweetheart, soaking right through ‘em.”

“Please.”

He looked up as you whispered the words, eyes already blown out dark with lust, the grey-blue colour you so deeply adored was almost entirely gone, and it was like the tension in the room shot up even further. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, angel, or do you just want more?”

There was a teasing undertone laced in his voice, and you would’ve commented on it, snapped back at him for his taunt, had it not been for the way he lifted that finger up, knuckle brushing over the pulsing bud between your legs, and then he was circling it, a dull pressure applied, and your hips left the bed as your back arched. “That! I want more of that.”

“So fucking pretty, all needy and beggin’ for me, already.” He switched his positions, instead of a knuckle, it was the flat of a finger, and you were already shaking under his touch as your entire body lit up with fireworks. “Are you sure you want to do this? Once we do, there’s no going back. You don’t want to save yourself for someone special?”

“I’m already with someone special.”

His motions paused, before a slightly bashful smile took over his face, and you giggled upon looking at him, sitting up enough to take his face in your hands, moaning against his lips as he picked his movements back up, just to drive you crazy. “You sweet-talkin’ me, angel?”

“Nobody would ever believe me if I could make a demon blush.”

“Just something about you. Don’t know what it is, but you drive me crazy.” He whispered, closing the distance as you continued to test him, a sloppy kiss that was more collisions of lips and tongue, and you could barely keep up. You were so focused on the way it felt to be utterly surrounded by every inch of him that you didn’t feel him move until the barrier of fabric was gone, tearing meeting your ears and then there was nothing between you both, a calloused finger gathering the wetness you’d built up, slick on his finger, and your breath hitched as the tip of that same warm digit traced your entrance.

Anticipation, anxiety, and slight fear washed over you, and he seemed to sense it, from the way that you tensed up, before he was pushing you back down to lay in the bedding, body pressed to your own. You were tugging at the shirt on his shoulders, whining a little, before he let you pull it up, holding himself up long enough for you to strip it away.

“Let me open you up, okay? Get you ready, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Stealing a final kiss, he distracted you, the way a finger slipped inside was something entirely new, your closed eyes snapping open again, and he let out a long and deep sound into your mouth, feeling every inch of your walls clamp up around his intruding finger, wet and velvet and enticing. He pumped it slowly, a wince on your face at the pull at your entrance, before you forced yourself to take a deep breath, focusing instead on the way his lips felt on your skin, and the way it felt when your bare flesh was gliding over his.

Erotic, sweat built up that made your skin stick against his in the most arousing way, the dips between his muscles shining, making everything about him stand out even more prominently, and you had never allowed yourself to consider a man as particularly attractive before, but now you were seeing through a whole new gaze, you were certain it couldn't get much better than him. Sharp jaw, pretty features, broad shoulders and a mouth to give up all innocence for, you couldn't even blame yourself for giving everything up to him.

There was a curling of his finger, the blunt nail dragging over your walls, and a shudder ran along your entire body as he did, a cry of his name leaving your lips, and suddenly, the final puzzle seemed to click into place. There was something romantic about offering yourself up to someone like this, something incredibly intimate about the way it felt to let yours be this vulnerable under someone else’s gaze, and you had never felt anything like this in your entire life.

A twisting in your lower belly, muscles clenching, and then another sting, a second finger sliding into you with ease as you all but dripped for him, the pain far more tolerable and even a little bit pleasurable this time around, before you were stretched around two thick fingers, barely processing the words he was offering to you, because your vision was going fuzzy and you felt like you’d left all forms of reality that you’d ever known.

Hands clenched in the sheets, tugging them roughly as you stiffened, and a soothingly cold hand pressed down on your chest, you hadn't realised your heart was racing and you were dragging in desperate breaths until the weight of the limb forced you to calm down. Bringing a hand up, you clung to him, frantic for some kind of grounding connection as you felt the rest of your inhibitions slip away. It felt like you were breaking down that final gate, like you were bursting from a cage, freedom and liberation and a feeling you’d never had before but were already addicted to the taste of.

Your throat stung, eyes burning from unshed tears, before he was pulling those fingers from you, an obscene slurping finding your ears, and you weren’t sure when your eyes had rolled back, or when your body had left the bedding, but when you collapsed back down into the soft cushions, with deep and raspy breaths, and forced your eyes open, he was licking crudely at his fingers, watching you carefully, something between caring and cocky stitched into his features.

“What just happened?”

“You just had your first orgasm, baby. How’d it feel?” He wiggled his brows, a smile that made you laugh, and you were still trembling, forcing yourself to relax as you melted into the blankets and untangled your fingers, surprised you hadn't ripped them entirely.

“I loved it.”

“Good.” The tip of his nose bumped against your own, and yet he never granted you a kiss, swerving away just long enough to settle himself between your thighs. “So much I want to do to you, so little time.”

He tutted to himself, and the denim of his jeans brushed over your sensitive centre as he dipped his head down. You weren’t sure where to focus, whether you were meant to fix your attention on the way his lips seal around one perky bud of a nipple, or the way you were meeting him roll for roll as you ruined the front of his jeans, material growing damp with your juices as you pleasured yourself, broken noises let out into the air as he abused your chest, switching between your breasts until he was satisfied with the way he’d left your skin spit-slick and shining.

A hand in his hair, you dared to take control, sick of waiting, and just wanting to get to the main event, what you did now know, and you needed it more than you’d ever needed anything in your entire life. You hadn't felt truly alive, or comfortable in your own body, until this moment, as he brought you to life and made you see stars, gave you things you’d never even known existed.

“Bucky, please. I can’t take waiting any longer.”

“Okay, angel. I got you, I know what you need.” He managed to peel himself away, a cool breeze sweeping in where he’d once been before he was stripping himself down of the remaining garments covering his body, and you felt your mouth go dry as he was finally revealed to you. He may have been crafted in hell, the epitome of sin and debauchery, and you weren’t surprised that so many people gave up on their purity to give in to lust, because you were just as weak as the rest of them as you looked at him.

Toned and tanned flesh, tapering down from broad shoulders to a narrow waist, defined muscles, sinewy skin and prominent veins, before a hard and leaking cock as bobbing in the air before you. He seemed to know you were admiring him, taking in every detail and committing it to memory, because he flexed a little, a look on his face that you were oh-so-familiar with, before you were reaching out to him.

He was happy to crawl into your arms, lifting your legs onto his waist, sticky pre-cum smearing across your thigh, before he was dipping into your wetness, gathering it up as he rocked his length against your folds, shared breath turning to pants as his forehead rested to your own. “Before we do this, I just wanted to say something.”

“Hm, don’t tell me you secretly have a tail that only comes out when you cum.”

He shook, his entire body wracked by the laugh that he let out, and he pulled back far enough that you could see the sparkle in his eyes, before he was shaking his head, a series of pecks pressed to your lips between muffled giggled from the pair of you, until you managed to calm down. “No, sorry to ruin another one of your predetermined opinions on demons.”

“I’ll get over it.”

He delivered a particularly sharp thrust, the tip of his cock bumping your clit, making your jerk in his hold, and you encouraged him on quickly, the scrape of your nails along his back making him hiss out. “I wanted to say that I haven’t felt like this in centuries, you’ve flipped your whole world upside down in just twenty-four hours. I wanted you to know that this is special, between me and you, just so you don’t regret it in a few days, when you think about us, when you're back home in your fancy apartment and living your normal life.”

“I’ve never felt more alive than when I’m with you.”

He took the compliment, not bothering to reply, but leaning in to take your lips with his own in a passionate kiss, as another hand slipped between your bodies to line himself up, before he was inching into you, taking his time and making sure not to hurt you. When he saw your face screw up, his hand caught yours, fingers weaving together and pressing back into the mattress, confirming that he was with you, an apology for the pain and a promise that it would go away without him even having to speak.

As his hips finally came to press to your own, you were holding back a sob, the wide girth and length he had were far more than his fingers had been, and while you’d stretched to accommodate him, it was still a new struggle, and you let out a low breath, feeling the soft presses of pecks along your cheeks and jaw, as he waited patiently. There was tension in his body, from top to bottom, feeling his muscles clench under your hands, and you rolled your hips experimentally.

A shot of pain, a whimper from your lips, but you weren't sure if that sound came from the sharp pain or the heated pleasure, a burst of it from within you, and your jaw dropped, and he let out a ragged sound, face pressed into your neck. “Holy shit, angel, you’re squeezin’ me like a fucking vice, tightest damn pussy I’ve ever known. Perfect, just like the rest of you.”

You grinned, hating the way that his filthy words could slide right into something endearingly sweet that had your stomach flipping and your heart skipping beats, all within in a split-second. “You can move now, it’s okay.”

He only gave a short nod, before he was doing as you offered, pulling back just enough to press back into you, a shallow thrust that didn’t offer much, drawn-out and delicate, but then there was another, stronger and faster, and he moved slowly, inch by inch each time, until he was pulling himself from you almost completely, and sinking back into your sodden heat.

“Oh, fuck.”

He bit down on your shoulder as you swore, cursing himself under his breath, tongue lapping over the spot. When he raised his head, there were wisps of brown hair plastered to his forehead, messy and tangled and you thought he looked stunning this way. Pink flushed cheeks, wide eyes, glistening skin, it was almost angelic, and there were certainly bits of him that made you question his allegiance, but then again, in the span of just one day, he’d made you question absolutely everything you ever knew.

Deep and fast thrusts, and you could feel every throb, every drag of him within you, each time he pulled away just to sheath himself within you once again, and you could feel your own throat stinging with the continuous loops of noises that you were letting out for him. He shifted, slowing for just a second, before one of your legs was being hiked up from his waist to his shoulder, and then, it was getting even better.

You thought he’d shown you the height of pleasure, that the feeling of being connected with him in such a way was all that it could be, but then he was reaching all new depth that made you scream. You couldn't take it, the continuous pounding on that little patch that made everything go blank. Stars in your eyes, white noise that barely let through the sounds of his loud moans and sobs of pleasure, but you could feel him coming undone atop of you, the way his pace faltered and his arm gave way, pressing you into the bed as he lost all semblance of self-control.

He was fucking into you without mercy, and you knew you’d be sore in the morning but right now you needed more. Your heel was digging into his lower back as you came unravelled once again, a peak crashing over you that was ten times stronger than the first had been and you were clinging to him like he was your only lifeline. Fingertips were digging into his flesh, nails raking red welts into his skin and he was growling and grunting, before gripping you with a hold so tight it was bruising, and a whole new kind of warmth washed over you.

His heavy-weight collapsing onto you was enough to warm you from the outside, but then he was spilling deep within you, a broken sound that tailed off at the end as his voice cracked, and you decided that in that exact moment, if you never got to experience anything this good ever again, you’d always cherish exactly how it felt to be marked and claimed as his, to know that no matter what, a little piece of your heart and soul would always belong to him, and him to you.

When he finally stopped moving, he didn’t pull out, but instead, rolled the two of you over until you were cushioned against his chest, and cheek pressed over the racing heart under his chest, and you grinned to yourself at knowing that you could make his heart do that, the organ he hadn't felt used in so long was now in overdrive under his ribs, and it was all for you. It wasn’t love, it couldn't be, it had only been a day; infatuation, curiosity, adoration, a range of emotions flooded through you but it was the possibility of something entirely new, and you thought it was perfect.

Clearly, he was feeling it too, because when you finally moved away from him, his eyes opened again, a weak sound of protest coming from him as you removed yourself from his body, laying down beside him, and sitting up a little, offering him a smile as he watched you. “Don’t leave yet. Stay with me a few more minutes.”

“I’m not going anywhere just yet, don’t you worry.” He was put at ease by that, you could see it from the way his shoulders slumped, and the breath he let out, before his arms were circling your waist and he was collapsing down against you.

You may never get into the version of ‘Heaven’ you’d always believed you were destined for, but this was more than that, it was everything you never knew you needed. Bringing a hand up to his hair, you wove your fingers into the damp strands, and he rumbled blissfully at the feeling, nuzzling further into your body as he did.

The rough stubble on his cheeks tickled you, made you want to shove him away and laugh out loud, but you wanted to hold him and comfort him more, the man overwhelmingly clingy after being intimate, and you treasured it. You had no experience to compare anything to, he was the master here, and you were learning everything, and you were sure to him that was like learning to walk while he was running marathons and doing hurdles, but he was patient and kind, and it was just another thing you’d assumed wrong about him.

Twenty-four hours ago you were someone completely different. Pure, and innocent, and completely unaware of the world you were a part of, and now, you never wanted to go back. He’d made you a promise that everything could be forgotten by midnight if you didn’t like it, but you wanted these memories and these moments burned into your mind forever, never to be taken away from you, so you’d always live in the time that your life changed for the better.

“So, I get it now.”

“Get what, sweetheart?” His words were given to you in a whisper, from where his cheek was pressed to your stomach, and you continued his hair, enjoying the happy rumble he let out as you did. The watch on your wrist showed the time, and you watched as he checked it, letting out a disgruntled little huff, before he was squeezing you a little tighter once again.

“Lust. Why so many people give in to it. That was incredible.”

“It only gets better. Didn’t want to break you on your first time, though.” He pressed a kiss to your skin, snickering as you scoffed at his words, and then he was pulling away far enough to sit up. You could see the scarring along his left shoulder so much clearer now, metal meeting flesh, bound with red scarring that marred beautiful golden skin, and yet his imperfections only made him seem even more perfect to you. “Maybe next year we’ll explore some more.”

“Next year?”

“Halloween is almost over, sweetheart.” You let him crawl further up your body, searching for your lips with his own until he wound his way home, and you flopped back into the pillows, taking him with you, breathless laughs expelled into both mouths until he was pulling away. “Mhm, no. When you kiss me like that, we get carried away.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, I like to think I can hold out, and I don’t think we could get everything I want to do to you done within six minutes.” He sighed dramatically, before rolling off of you and onto the bed beside you.

“What if we had more than six minutes?” He twisted his head studying you for a minute, before his lips were parting, and he was pulling your hands from where you were picking at the loose threads on the bedsheets, and he was bringing your knuckles to his mouth, gentle kisses pressed to them.

“Don’t speak in riddles, we don’t have the time for that.”

“What if I stayed?”

He sat up a little more, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “You know if you stay, this is the only place you’ll ever end up. Even if you left next year, even if you decided not to be here anymore, while you still have your life. You’ll never get into Heaven. You only have three minutes to make a decision that’ll decide the rest of your life.”

“I think I’ve already made it.” Something eerily similar to hope flickering between your eyes, and you only gave him a sweet grin, before his face was cracking open in a wide beam, and he was lunging at you again. “What did Heaven ever do for me anyway? I think I’d much rather stay and be a sinner here with you.”

He bumped the tip of his nose against yours, before moving down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, pausing for long enough to speak; “Maybe, but you’ll always be my angel.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/reader smut #bucky barnes marvel #bucky barnes sebastian stan #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x reader smut #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/reader smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x you smut #bucky barnes/you #sebastian stan bucky barnes

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dinogoofy · 3 years

Text

Scorpion/GN!reader!-pt 3

Might kiss you, might rip your guts out.

Mostly fluffy goodness this chapter! Enjoy!

It had been a month and a half of non-stop training and work, and you still did not stay long in the air at all. After the first month you had started to use the roof of the temple to get yourself startled, with Hanzo's permission, of course.

It was surprising. How you had managed to calm down around him. After all this time… It was easy to recognize that he didn't lie when he said he beat Scorpion. The man had truly defeated the monster, but even then it didn't stop you from flinching when he sparred with his students. He hadn't asked you about that yet, and you almost hoped that he hadn't noticed.

The ground came fast, and you slowed as you came out of the dive, wings straining once again as you slowed the fall. But it was not enough to give you a soft landing. You landed feet first this time, but with the sudden force of gravity a simple shift of balance had you rocking back on your feet and falling on your butt.

"You did better this time." You sighed, groaning in frustration. Hanzo's steps grew closer, and you peered up at his hand as he offered to help you up. You reached out and took it without much hesitation, brushing the dirt off your clothes after.

"Better, but not good enough." Hanzo shook his head at you, handing you the stopwatch the two of you had been using to record your progress.

"It took you seventeen seconds to slow down. Your speed has stayed consistent, but your landings have improved immensely from when we first started." He stopped, holding onto his next words. You scrunched your lips up in a semi-annoyed frown.

"You're about to tell me to take a break." Hanzo furrowed his eyebrows at you. Shaking his head at your stubbornness.

"You've been at this since before the clan's morning rounds. You only stopped to eat at Takeda's request, you're burning too many calories for your body to keep up with. Your wings-" You shot him a glare. He sighed. "-Your wing, is starting to give out." You scoffed at him. Flexing the two appendages back and forth, too stubborn to admit the biting soreness coming from the scarred wing. You had built strength in it after the few months you had spent with the Shirai Ryu, and the fact that you had trained for so long today without it giving out or twitching once had built a sense of urgency in you. A kind of rush that had you pushing yourself past the limits of your body. You didn't want to stop, even if you knew it was only hurting you.

You went to set the timer for the stopwatch yourself. As it seemed like the esteemed grandmaster wouldn't be staying with you much longer.

"I don't-" Hanzo interrupted you with both his body and his voice. His hands shooting out, holding the stopwatch firmly in between your hands. You flinched, but steadied your breathing. He wouldn't hurt you. He wouldn't.

"There's a difference between training yourself to be stronger, and pushing your body till it breaks. I've learned that from experience." Your shoulders sagged a bit at the confession. He squeezed your hand gently.

"I'm telling you as a friend, you need to stop." With a sigh, you took one last look at his worried brown eyes, and stepped away. He smiled lightly as you pocketed the watch. You looked up at the late afternoon sun in the sky, shining brightly in the clear sunny day. God, how you wished that you could make it all the way up there again.

"I was going to stroll through the gardens, would you like to join me? I'm sure it would help you relax." You hummed, contemplating for a moment. Hanzo was waiting patiently for your answer. He had backed up at least an arm's length away from you, and you were almost comforted by the courtesy. It seems he noticed your flinch from earlier. Your lips pressed together into a line, and you looked at the sky for one last moment before directing your gaze back to Hanzo.

"Alright." He smiled, and you stayed by his side as the two of you strolled through the beautiful gardens.

He was right when he said it might be relaxing. The soft breeze and smell of nature filling your senses. The wind tickled your feathers as it flowed through them. You closed your eyes for just a moment as you followed the path, taking a deep breath. If you were to settle down and find a home, you had decided that you needed to find a place like this. Quiet, kind, warm, filled with nature and calming sights.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Hazo hummed. Surprised at your sudden words. You opened your eyes, but continued to face forward, not looking at Hanzo.

"How did you manage to find a place so… well, calm. Comforting. It wasn't something I was expecting from you." Your words caught in your throat, and you folded your arms, suddenly aware of how awful that sounded.

"-I mean, I… I really wasn't expecting a lot from you in the first place. But even then you exceeded my expectations." Hanzo smiled stiffly, eyes somber yet understanding. All you could hear was the crunching gravel under your feet for a moment.

"It wasn't always this way." He spoke softly. "When I became myself again, this place was desolate. Abandoned. It wasn't really the fire gardens, it was only an abandoned piece of land." He stopped for a moment.

"And before then, it was glorious. It wasn't calm like it is now, but it was happy. A place for my family to grow. For my wife and son to thrive." He… he had a family? It was a sensitive subject, you knew it had to be based on his sad tone, so you quench your curiosity. If he wanted to tell you about them, he would. You shouldn't pry.

"... when they died, I had almost abandoned the temple so that I could avenge them. When I returned, and realized what I had done… I had to restore the gardens. And along with it, the Shirai Ryu. I replanted the trees, rebuilt the foundation, and abandoned my ways of rage. All I had left to do was form my own redemption." You purse your lips, blinking away the tears that stung at the edge of your eyes. His story was devastating, but a frustration filled your chest at his last words.

"Is that why you offered me aid? To build yourself up again?" You said, maybe a little more bitterly than you had meant to. Hazo shook his head.

"I wanted to help you. Truly. I did. There was not a day after I killed you that I hadn't wondered who I had hurt. Whose family I had ripped away. I didn't know you then, and I can't say I truly know you know, but…" You and Hanzo had stopped along the path. He faced you again, and only a fool couldn't see the regret in his eyes.

"I would like to know you now, if you will let me." You sighed. Using your hands to wipe the tiredness from your eyes, and discreetly wiping away the tears as you did. He truly was trying to fix things, wasn't he? Well, you knew that the two of you could never start over like Kombat had never happened, but you respected his drive to make it up to you. You wondered how the two of you would treat each other if you had only met before the arena.

"Honestly?" You let the word out just above a whisper. "I wouldn't really mind that."

#scorpion imagines #scorpion #scorpion x reader #mk scorpion #enimies to friends to lovers #enimies to lovers #mk imagine #mk x reader

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whereflowersbloom · 3 years

Text

Dum Spiro Spero

The leader of the league of shadows and secrets was watching a beautiful creature bathing in sunlight. Shinning ebony hair catching each breath of early autumn’s glinting sunset, a tendril of her hair catching in the wind as it breaks free from an elaborated braid. Raven was kneeling in the garden, hands working the soil, to bring life, making new life grow. Some moments she stopped to enjoy the autumnal breeze on her face, staring into the distance as if caught in between this world and another.

Looking back Damian never thought he would have this. It had never been an option for him. His life was mostly filled with dangers, blood, threats and uncertainty. Wondering if he would live to see the next sunrise or survive enough to watch the following sunset. His life had been filled with hatred. Hatred towards a parent be believed had abandoned him, an enemy that murdered his loved ones who raised him. He did everything in his power to avenge them but he did not feel satisfaction or any kind of gratification after killing him. No. The emptiness did not fade away.

There were times where he was filled with so much regrets. Regret of rejecting his father and not believing in him, that he cared for him. Regret of the days he spent resenting his adoptive brothers for having the chance of a different life. Regret for not being able to love someone freely. Not until her.

The first time he saw her he couldn’t help but stare in awe. The same day Damian drew in his first breath of Gotham City air.

An eternity could have passed by in the blink of an eye, breath hitched in his throat, eyes quivering with strong emotion, heart hammering in his chest and yet he would have stared at the sight of her the rest of his days. For it was humanly impossible to get his eyes off of her. It was a view he had been starved of for eighteen years.

He stared because she was light.

She was home. Finally.

Porcelain skin, thick locks of raven hair, piercing, unearthly amethysts struck through his soul. And he felt alive, whole.

He had learned an important lesson. Life was too short, shorter if you’re an assassin, it was too precious. You could never waste a second of it, especially with the people closest to your heart. And he made a solemn promise to his family and himself. He decided to live without regret. To take the opportunities that life handed him and most importantly, he swore to himself that even no matter what happened in the past, the terrible things he had done, his faults and mistakes. He deserved to be happy.

That was five years ago.

It was easy to lurk in the shadows of the their house, a petite, cozy cottage close to the league’s headquarters. In the Kunlun mountains he had found a rustic little gem straight out of a Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronté novel, that was how Raven had described it. She had been working on the garden for eight months. There were now fragrant jasmine bushes and two apple trees, one almost completely covered by creamy white climbing roses, clusters of bluebells, foxgloves, pink Hibiscus flowers, pale lavender orchids, and the entire lawn was strewn with white and yellow daisies. In the shadows he knew he would not disturb her reverie. Yet he had been caught, luminous violet eyes wiser than her years cast to where he has hidden with a gentle smile that just pricked the corners of her mouth. “You know I can feel you staring, Damian. The intensity of your emotions is making me go weak.”

Damian couldn’t stop admiring his lover. Because the eyes that followed her were ones brimmed with love, adoration. Stepping into the sunlight, gently he helped her stand up, instinctively wrapping an arm around her waist. “You will never be weak, beloved. Not because of me or anyone.” Words were spoken softly, his other hand reaching to lift a white lily from the blooming bulbs bed and tucking it right behind her ear. Not too far off in the distance the radiant sun continued arching low in the sky reading to say goodbye and allowing the sky to welcome the moon and stars.

One of his long, tanned hands, cupped her face with delicacy, her body aching desperately for his touch. He placed his remaining hand over her chest. She was aware that Damian could feel the rapid pulse of her heart through skin. “Thought you’re stronger than any other living creature in this universe. There is strength in your goodness, as much as there is in steel and fire.” His emerald eyes were filled with so much joy, so much warmth and devotion, it was endless, everflowing.

Raven barely thought she was breathing, willing her unruly heart to ease a fraction, soothe down its beating instead of racing even after all these years together. Damian gently kissed her temple and murmured against her rosy cheek in a low voice that made goosebumps rise on her tender flesh. “Do you know why I fell in love with you?”

She licked her lips and pretended to think about it for a moment. “Because I said you were insufferable our first meeting.” She teased. As much as his presence annoyed her at first, she had come to feel comfortable around him, safe, content. The feelings she had tried to contain became harder and harder to ignore. Slowly, he carved himself into her heart, something she did not have a name for took root. Every time he saw him, heart fluttered in her chest like a child, and everytime he smiled at her...oh Azar she couldn’t take the clash of ardent emotions. After that something inside her began to loosen, shift, to change. She had been a fool, deceiving herself it was nothing more than friendship.

Everything changed for them and she was infinitely thankful both had put in the effort to help each other overcome their fears. They only required a little push from Dick at the beginning, because both were impossibly stubborn.

Damian chuckled audibly. It was a fascinating sound she thought to herself. His hand trailed along her collarbone, enjoying the smooth texture of her ivory skin, grasping the side of her face. Green orbs bored into violet constellations. He spoke firmly and his features hardened slightly. There was a battle raging behind his green gaze, like he was desperately fighting something inside him. His past. “You did not judge me for my past actions, for the assassin I was raised to be. I was coated in blood, spent my days destroying and taking lives. And yet you found goodness in me.” His deep voice was rough and cracked just a bit.

She had given him five years worth of smiles, laughter, love and so much more. Filling the void inside him after losing his grandfather and mother. She had lifted him up. Damian would never let her go. He refused to. How could he?

“Dum spiro spero.” He breathed, heart thundering in his chest.

He did not have tell her its definition. She knew the meaning of the phrase. She blinked in surprise, her mind automatically translated it. While I breath, I hope.

Interlacing his hand with hers, entwined like a vine to tree, he swallowed hard before continuing. “You are my hope, Raven. When I look at you I see hope.” Raven was this incredible force which had burrowed itself so deeply within him being that there would be no uprooting it. Never.

She found herself voiceless, giving time for his words to sink in. Then she did not have to think about her responses for more than a second. She knew exactly what she wanted to say.

Raven held his gaze, unwavering, for another minute before speaking. “I know you really look at me and see me for who I am and I hope you know, I will always look at you and I will see someone who despite seeing the worst of it all, is still kind, good, a generous and compassionate soul.”

The raw emotion swimming in his eyes made her want to embrace him for eternity. He loved her. He loved her more than she ever imagined. She felt her own eyes watering, tears running down her cheeks which Damian wiped away with careful motions.

“I would love to be your hope until the end of my days.” She whispered voice thick with emotion, forehead pressed against his. His skin was warmer than hers, she let herself submerge in the lingeringly tender contact. Unable to hold back anymore Damian kissed her ferociously, with starved lips, pouring all his words and feelings into the caress. Squeezing her frame against his, wishing for any distance to vanish, anything that would keep them apart.

“I love you.” He whispered in the most intimate of ways against her mouth.

Damian took her in his arms, carrying her and not wasting time, making his way inside the small cottage. They were two souls in love, hearts beating the same tune, in perfect synchrony.

Happy birthday chromie 🙈🙈🙈❤️❤️❤️

This small oneshot is dedicated to @chromium7sky my closest friend in the fandom.

I hope you all like it though. @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @andthendk @ravenfan1242 @carnationmilk @bourniebna @srose-foxfire @sofiii

#damirae #demon birds #damian wayne #damian al ghul #raven roth #teen titans #dick grayson #tim drake #bruce wayne #slade wilson #ra’s al ghul #talia al ghul #dc fandom #dc universe #creative writing #league of assassins #damian x raven #dum spiro spero

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cno-inbminor · 4 years

Text

domus - pt. 3 (final)

a/n: it’s done. oh god it’s done. it’s like 2AM so it’s unedited for now, but i’ll make edits in the morning. i also apologize in advance for the slightly rushed ending fas;elifjac you will need to read parts 1 and 2 (linked below) for context!

plot: when kuroo tetsuro drops the hard-hitting truth that he’s fallen out of love with you, your first thought is to escape. but you find comfort in the least likely person: akaashi keiji, a boy you had grown up with out of forced family interactions, who always seemed so distant from you. yet you probably knew more about him than anyone else.

characters: fem!reader, ex-bf!kuroo, & family friend!akaashi

wc: ~8k

genre/warnings: angst with teaspoons of fluff; mentions of alcohol and getting drunk

pt. 1 | pt. 2

The grey sheets fail to startle you this time around, granted that it’s been about four days since you first arrived. It’s the constriction of cotton around your body that wakes you up on this Tuesday morning, and your brain can’t fathom why your loose pajamas have suddenly become so uncomfortable. But then the threads tickle the skin of your arms, your legs feel the slight scrape of denim, and your toes have trouble wiggling around due to the constraint of…socks.

Why are you wearing socks to sleep?

Much to your body’s protest, you stumble out of Keiji’s comfortable sheets (note to self: ask him where he got them from) and into the reflection of the body-length mirror in his room. Your vision blurs when all the colors of the rainbow come into place, exploding into a million stars as you lose a bit of your balance. Thankfully, your hand finds purchase against the wall and allows you to regain some stability. It only takes a few seconds, overwhelmingly agonizing as they are, before you can properly assess your current state.

Yesterday’s outfit glares back at you, though much more mussed and wrinkled than you last saw it. Similarly, your hair is in a disarray, hands subconsciously trying to take out any tangles while you can. Knowing the state of cleanliness that Keiji keeps his space in, you feel a wave of regret wash over you for having slept in his bed in air-polluted clothes that must have caught who knows how many germs. Immediately, you move to your suitcase to find something to change into, discarding your current outfit into a large plastic bag that acted as your nomadic hamper. As soon as you’re done, you begin to gather up all the layers of Keiji’s bed, fitted sheet and all, and leaving them on top of the mattress in separate piles by how they should be washed. But while you gather the first bundle into your arms, you take a quick look at the clock, slightly flabbergasted that it’s only a little past 6AM.

In your somewhat frantic attempt to atone for your sins against Keiji’s abode, you failed to notice the lack of sun rays peeking from behind the curtains. And much like you’ve done every day since you showed up, you pull the material back and greet the nostalgic view of Tokyo once more.

But serenity doesn’t come to you. In fact, your heart seems to be weighed down by an unknown anchor. Instinctively, your arms come up to hug yourself slightly, knowing that it’s a feeble attempt at best. The weight gradually mixes with a grasp of suffocation and the feeling closes around your throat. Immediately, you seek a source of fresh air, eyes catching a handle on the window that you somehow missed all these days. This means that Keiji has two separate doors to the balcony, including the one in the living room, and you do your best to quickly yet quietly slide the pane open. As soon as there’s enough space for you to slide through, you practically bound out and lean yourself over the rail of the balcony, lungs taking in deep breaths of oxygen.

Below you, the city has already begun to awaken, pedestrians the size of ants seemingly crawling their away down the street. Faint car honks echo through the city, the occasional train horn blaring louder than the rest. These are sights and sounds you find familiar, and somehow, the unease in your chest settles. Everything seems okay again, and you wonder why it crept up on you so suddenly.

The realization creeps through your veins as you drink in the sight of the SkyTree: you’re not quite ready to leave yet. You don’t think you’re ready to hop on a plane back to Sapporo and back to the apartment that you and Tetsuro spent the last few years building together. Every corner, every nook and cranny of that unit was filled with memories upon memories, mostly good and some bad. And even if you want to think back on them, to be able to look at them and recall the moments fondly, you know that Tetsuro’s unfortunate confession would immediately overshadow all of it. They would just leave you in the same pool of broken bitterness that you originally escaped from.

You still haven’t texted him.

He must be worried sick, you think as your feet drag you back inside and grab your device from the nightstand. You check through your notifications as you step out onto the balcony again, and after a few minutes, your thumb hovers over his conversation thread. A stinging pain courses through your system at the nickname you have set for his contact, and you hate it. You hate how fresh it still feels, completely and utterly frustrated at yourself that part of you still hasn’t let go of him. Why couldn’t you be stronger than this?

But despite your distress, you tap on it and hesitate above the keyboard, trying to think of the right words. Only a few come to your mind, and before you can convince yourself to back out (because you owed him at least this much), your thumbs type out two words and hit the send button, immediately locking it afterwards and sliding it into the pocket of your gym shorts. Out of sight, out of mind, right? He wanted a text of confirmation, you give him a text. That’s all you would allow yourself without crumbling again, and you were trying to put all the Band-aids you could on it.

Undoubtedly, Keiji’s presence helps. It’s easy to not think about Tetsuro when you’re around him, busying yourself with either work emails or recipes that you want to try out. The former doesn’t mind being a guinea pig, as he so kindly put it on Sunday. In fact, he handed you a cookbook from his shelf that had some recipes tabbed with sticky notes, pointing out the ones he thought you might enjoy. Surprisingly, they were all very appealing and to your taste, and part of you wonders if it’s just a mild coincidence. So far, you haven’t messed anything up, and Keiji always finishes his portion with slightly veiled enthusiasm. He knew how much you enjoyed cooking and baking for others, evidence presented by the years of instances when you stopped at their house to drop off your newest creations – so whether or not his compliments were genuine, you took it.

What you don’t know is the number of knowing glances throughout middle and high school that Keiji’s mother would give him as he munched on your edible gifts, pretending to seem unfazed though his eyes adopted a slight twinkle as he ate his fair share. If she could see him now, she’d notice the same shine in them.

Part of you itches to see if Tetsuro read your text message, if he will bother responding. The phone burns in your pocket, but you decide against it, letting it scorch against your thigh as you lean against the rail and watch the sky grow brighter. You miss the carefree mornings like these when you aren’t in a rush to leave the apartment. All that’s really on your mind now is what to make for breakfast, mentally running through all the ingredients that Keiji has.

Today seems like a good day for pancakes.

Keiji’s eyes snap open when his phone goes off, mentally groaning when he realized he forgot to turn off the daily alarm he usually sets for going into work. Now that he’s spending a few days at home, there’s been no need to get up so early. He left it on yesterday since they had that early ride on the bullet train, but with all the events that happened last night, he simply forgot.

Keiji sees that his bedroom door remains closed and believes you’re still asleep. But when he stands up to stretch and looks out his balcony windows, he catches a glimpse of your figure through the gap in the curtains. The breeze from the AC slightly causes them to flutter, giving him a better view as he steps around the couch to get a better angle. You look pensive and somewhat defeated, staring out into the open space as the wind from the heights tousles your hair. He wonders if you’ve taken the initiative to let Tetsuro know if you were okay.

At this thought, his eyes are drawn the phone on his coffee table, staring for a few seconds and calculating to see if this is a good idea. Unable to find any issues with it, he steps back to reach for the device. On the off-chance that you did text him, he doubts that you told your boyfriend where you’re staying. Keiji knows that Tetsuro would be worried regardless and perhaps might gain some comfort from knowing that you were staying with a friend. So before he can chicken out, he taps a short text, ignoring the fact that it’s been months since the two had last spoken outside of the group chat Koutaro created for the three of them and Tsukishima.

The lack of an immediate reply indicates that the former Nekoma captain is either still asleep or busy with his residency. Keiji casts one last look at you, noticing that you haven’t moved in the last few minutes. It seems that you’ll be there for a while and lost in your thoughts. There were only a few times in his life when he had witnessed this faraway look of yours, knowing it was better to leave you alone than to try and rip you out of the reverie. Perhaps he’ll take a chance with breakfast today, a small repayment for the onigiri and juice boxes you bought him on the train.

He thinks you might enjoy having some pancakes.

The deafening creak and slide of plastic ripping away from its rubber suction startles you. Much like you did when Keiji first scared you on Saturday morning, you turn to the source of fright with a hand over your pounding heart, staring in disbelief as said man walks out with a tray of food. Though this time, much to your amusement, he looks rather apologetic. The humor quickly morphs into guilt as you notice the two plates of pancakes – just how long had you been standing out here?

In a few steps, you meet him and silently take the tray from his hands, allowing him to close the balcony door. There’s no good place to put it besides the ground, and when Keiji sits next to it – legs stretched out – with his back against the plexiglass, you demurely mimic his movements on the other side of the tray. Without a word, Keiji places his portion onto his lap and grabs his own set of fork and knife. You simply stare at him until he gestures for you to do the same, returning the small smile he gives you. Both of you say your thanks before digging in, and you can’t help but notice how Keiji has drizzled just the right amount of syrup and in the way that you like it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” you apologize after a few bites in. Despite how fluffy and soft they are, the pancakes have a hard time going down your throat. Keiji had also gone through the trouble of making some freshly squeezed orange juice, yet the sip of the beverage doesn’t help much.

“It’s the least I could do after yesterday,” he says softly, and his eyes let you know he really didn’t mind. “Really, you’ve been cooking everything else. I saw a chance and took it.”

“But still—”

“I was more than happy to do it,” Keiji interjects. “It’s my way of saying thanks.”

“…has anyone ever told you that you’re too kind sometimes?” It’s easier to swallow now.

“Bokuto-san has mentioned it a few times,” he replies quickly, staring at you before you both burst out laughing.

From there, conversation flows more smoothly, topics ranging from the MSBY practice session yesterday to what mangas he’s been editing. The pancakes quickly disappear as the sun beams through the clouds, gradually heating up the earth until it was becoming somewhat unbearable in the heat. Keiji sports a light sheen of sweat by the time you two decide it’s wise to go back inside. He takes the tray before you can even think of grabbing it, ushering you to go ahead and shower first while he washes the dishes. As a sign of thanks, you give an affectionate squeeze around his upper arm as you walk past him.

Keiji pretends that his skin isn’t burning from the touch.

Right as he’s placing everything onto the drying rack, his phone rings from the pocket of his sweatpants. He’s not entirely surprised when Kuroo’s name flashes on the screen – after his text, he figured your boyfriend would either message back with lots of question marks or simply call to demand answers. A quick exhale leaves his lungs as he hits the green button and brings the device to his ear.

“Hi Kuroo-san.”

“What do you mean ‘she’s staying with me’?”

Keiji glances in the direction of the bathroom and hears the shower still running. Chances of you eavesdropping or overhearing would be low.

“It’s exactly what I mean. She’s staying with me for the time being.”

“Why you?”

“Honestly, that’s a good question.”

“…wait, so you didn’t know she was coming?”

“She called me when she was at the airport,” Keiji sighs, leaning back against the sink to keep a lookout on the bathroom. “I was just as surprised as you are.”

“You’ve been treating her okay?”

“Of course, what do you take me for?”

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Kuroo groans. “I only have about 10 minutes left in my break. How’s she doing?”

“As well as someone can do when their significant other suddenly tells them they’re not in love with them anymore.”

The silence is deafening over the phone. Keiji didn’t really mean to slip up right then and there, but he couldn’t help the simmering anger rising in his stomach.

“…I’m guessing she told you then.”

“Just last night. I asked when she got here, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. We went to see Bokuto-san yesterday.”

“That would explain the weird text I got from him last night. Did it help?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s good then,” Kuroo sighs into the speaker, rubbing his temple with his free hand. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Keiji replies. “Though if you don’t mind me asking…how did it happen?”

“I don’t have a lot of time left so I’ll make it quick. It just – I don’t know, it kinda hit me one morning. I was wondering why I stopped feeling like I needed to get home as soon as possible. Stopped asking for details about her day, or at least nothing more than how it was. I’d forget half the things she was telling me whenever she talked about her job. It was nice coming home to someone after a long shift, but I just…it didn’t feel all that special knowing she was the one waiting for me. I love her like a best friend, just not romantically anymore. She doesn’t deserve to get dragged along because I can’t speak up about my feelings, so I told her. You understand, right?”

Immediately, Keiji wants to say no. No, he doesn’t get it. It’s nearly unfathomable to him that Tetsuro can just slowly stop caring about the things that were important to you. He imagines your figure curled up in bed, anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to come home safely. He imagines you greeting Tetsuro happily, blissfully unaware that the man only kissed your cheek in greeting as a force of habit.

He imagines your face falling little by little as Tetsuro explains himself, your guard failing to mask the anguish you were feeling, and it pains him. Yet his torment at the thought could only be a small fraction of what you experienced – neither was this the time to be heavily biased.

“I don’t have any say in the matter,” Keiji begins and tries to keep his voice as level as possible. “But you know she’s not going to give in to your terms, right?”

“I know it’s not exactly sensible, but I’m trying—”

“Do you really think she’d be happy knowing that?” He nearly hisses into the phone, simply fed up with Kuroo’s stubbornness. “You’ve just told her you don’t love her anymore, insinuating that you’d be happier without her – knowing how much she loves you, do you really think she’d let you force yourself to try for her sake? You know how selfless she is!”

“And I’m trying to give her a chance to be selfish for once – this is on me, and I could at least try! I loved her once, who says I couldn’t love her again? I’ll give her all the time she needs and—"

“If you really cared about her, you would let her go!”

“It’s not that simple!”

Keiji has never wanted to punch someone so bad in his life. “Don’t you understand it’d be nothing but torture for her? Every day, hanging onto some flimsy hope that everything will go back to the way it used to be? There’s a high chance that you’d never feel that way again, so you’re going to let her waste all that time on you? That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

Tetsuro knows Keiji’s right. He knows, and he loathes it. His own fear of drastic change caused him to spill all those empty promises to you, simply refusing to acknowledge that his own selfish desires were the demons speaking.

“…I’m glad you’re the one she’s staying with. It’s better than being alone in a hotel for a week.”

“You’re digressing.”

“Let her go, huh?”

“Like I said, if you really cared, then yes. Anything she asks of you, go with it. It’s the least you could do.”

“…I gotta go, my break’s up. Thanks, Akaashi.”

Keiji isn’t doing it for him. “Bye, Kuroo-san.”

Beep.

“You cannot leave your room until I let you!”

“(Y/n), what—”

“I need to get groceries and what I’m making is gonna take a really long time, but I’ve been dying to try it and this is the perfect time! I wanna surprise you though.”

“You don’t need to surprise me—”

Keiji’s feet are planted in the entrance of his bedroom door, heels digging into the hardwood as much as they can. After he came out of his shower and grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen, you were pushing him towards his room, words spilling from your lips a mile a minute.

“Please?” You nearly pout when Keiji turns to get a good look at your face. “You said you need to work anyways, right? I’d be much less of a bother if I was doing something else.”

“You know I don’t mind you being in the same room,” he says gently, hoping that he never said anything that could’ve insinuated your presence wasn’t welcome wherever he was. “Company is nice.”

“We have tomorrow for that, it’s just this one time. Plus, I’m washing the bed and the sheets are still in the dryer.”

“You didn’t have to do that – hey, what if I need to go to the bathroom?”

“You have to promise not to peek!”

“(Y/n)—”

“Pinky promise, right now!” You demand, sticking out a pinky in between the two of you. Keiji pretends to be annoyed at your antics, but he can’t help but smile as your two pinkies link together and thumbs come up for a stamp.

“What if I need to get something to drink?”

“Just let me know and I’ll bring it to you. And no peeking!”

“As I promised, yes.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease, and Keiji can only watch a little despondently as you disappear out the front door. He isn’t looking forward to the same sight that’ll occur in three days, though that time you’ll be lugging a suitcase behind you and potentially leaving for good.

Instantly, the apartment feels too empty. Everything is too quiet again, reminding him why he has a difficult relationship with working from home. Part of him is so used to the hustle and bustle of the manga company that the silence in an empty home somehow feels wrong. And now that some liveliness has been thrown into the mix, painting his abode with splashes of gentle hues, the void feels even more foreign.

You’ll be back within an hour. He just has to bear with it for that short time frame – there’s a decent pile of work waiting for him anyways.

It might be a good time to start practicing being alone again as well.

With determination, Keiji throws himself into his work, only stopping every couple of hours to lean back into his chair and rub his eyes. His little energy bursts come in various forms: when you first came back and greeted, “I’m home!” through his bedroom door, whenever you come in to refill his cup of water, when you come in with two plates of sandwiches during lunch time, and when you bring him some tea as a change of pace in the afternoon. Every gesture is strongly appreciated, and he wishes he could help you in the kitchen.

(He tries to ignore how domestic everything feels. It’s a sensation he finds himself getting drunk on, the bliss encasing his nerves with a pleasant numbness.)

Keiji broadcasts a bit of his work to you, talking you through his process and the things he looks out for when editing. With you, he doesn’t have to worry about leaking spoilers – in fact, you look more enraptured with his set-up than anything. He enjoys the awe and childlike wonder that cloud your face. It’s a far cry from the ruminative expression from this morning, and Keiji hopes that he’ll never have to see that face again.

Always a man of his word, he stays in his bedroom while you finish making dinner. Based on the smell and distinct sound of something being seared in a hot pan, Keiji gathers there’s meat involved. Earlier, his food processor had been going as well, though he couldn’t exactly place why it sounded like you were beating something against the counter. You might have been butchering something, meaning there was meat involved. But he knows his curiosity will be pleasantly sated and bides his time with mindless YouTube videos.

There’s a quiet knock on his door before it opens, revealing your slightly exhausted frame. Concern washes over him as his eyes frantically assess your current state, flitting around until he spots where your hand seems to be cradling the other. It could only mean one of two possible scenarios, and without a word, he grabs the medicine box from his closet in search of the burn ointment. You begin to try and explain what happened, but before you can even say that you accidentally touched one of racks in the oven with the back of your wrist, you spot the little tube between Keiji’s fingers and fall silent. His eyebrows furrow as he approaches you, standing no more than a couple of centimeters away from you as he finds the burn and begins to apply the balm.

“You should’ve let me help,” he says quietly, regret laced through the words. His lithe fingers hesitate over the mark, hoping that the salve was applied quickly enough to prevent any potential blistering.

“This is nothing,” you try to soothe him. “I was just lost in thought and didn’t realize that my arm was getting a little too close. What matters most is that I still saved the dinner.”

Keiji shakes his head and releases his hold. “That’s not the most important at all. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?”

“You can help me by waiting here for another 15 minutes until I tell you to come out.”

“You know that’s not—”

“Keiji,” you firmly interject. Your hands grasp one of his, clenching around them to let him know it was okay. The small burn was no one’s fault but yours, and there was no need for him to feel guilty. “I’m okay, really. All the hard parts are over now, I just need to let something cool down and set up the table.”

The man before you releases a defeated sigh and you let go of his hand. Instantly, he misses the warmth and subconsciously flexes his hand in some strange attempt to retain the heat running through his fingers. “Call for me if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course.”

Once more, you exit his room and close the door behind you. He takes this time to stand by and stare out his balcony doors, watching the sun slowly sink below the horizon. A warm, orange glow fills his room as Keiji turns to look at his freshly washed bed, remembering the way you had scuttled in with an armful of linen and batted him away repeatedly from trying to help. He pictures the way you would curl up in sleep, imagining once again just how nice it would be to wake up together with the Tokyo sunrise.

“Dinner’s ready,” your voice calls out from behind him, stealing him away from his daydream. He makes his way around the bed to meet you where you demand him to close his eyes. The skeptical look causes you to laugh as you continue to goad him.

“I’ll make sure you don’t bump into anything, promise.”

“If I so much as nudge a table with my big toe, I will kick you out.”

“So dramatic,” you scoff and roll your eyes. “Come on, please?”

Giving in to your requests seems second nature now, he realizes as his eyes slip shut, relying on nothing but the gentle hold you have on his hands and the sound of your voice. You do well in warning him about any possibility he might bump into something and Keiji’s trust in you solidifies – hell, they could be on the outskirts of an exploding volcano and he’d let you drag him around with a blindfold on. He can feel the nervousness rolling off you as you sit him down in his chair, hurriedly taking the seat across from him and adjusting yourself. “Okay, you can open your eyes.”

Keiji has to blink a few times to refocus his vision and chooses to ignore the way your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for the plate in front of him. Two slices of beef wellington sit elegantly on the white porcelain, a glass of red wine in the top corner, and a set of a knife and fork on opposite sides. It looks straight out of a cookbook and he loves that you were right – he would be pleasantly surprised, and your hard work would certainly pay off.

But what makes the smile on his face form is the memory of you two discussing different cooking shows on the walk home from school one evening. You had asked him out of the blue if he watched anything cooking-related, and when he had listed some of the channels he watched from time to time, you rattled off a list of things you wanted to try making some day but never could with time constraints. Beef wellington had been one of those items, as well as a croquembouche, Totoro macarons, and others.

“Did you finally get to live out your Great British Bake Off dreams with the puff pastry?” Keiji jokes, lifting his utensils and beginning to cut through the meat. At his question, he realizes you must’ve been pounding out the slab of butter to be used when making puff pastry from scratch.

“That, and try to channel Gordon Ramsay for everything else,” you chuckle and watch him carefully as he chews on his first bite.

“This is really good, holy shit,” he murmurs and relief floods your system. “Are you sure this is your first time making it?”

“Yep!”

“I’m gonna have to get seconds later,” Keiji says, still slightly suspended in disbelief. You’re practically shaking in your seat from how well received the dish is.

“Try to save some room for the dessert wine later.”

“Oh, you bought some?”

“Yeah, they had the brand we like at the supermarket.”

“What’s the occasion?”

You ponder on that for a bit, trying to find the right words for it. What he didn’t know was that you caught the last half of his conversation on the phone with Tetsuro. At first, you felt a flare of anger when you put the pieces together and realized that Keiji had ratted out your location, almost storming out of the bathroom to give him a piece of your mind. But when you heard him defend and stand up for you, you faltered, hand hovering over the doorknob. Once again, he was holding your best interests at heart and risking potentially fraying his friendship with Tetsuro for you. It was exactly the kind of support you needed in that moment.

So you do what you’ve always done to show gratitude when it comes to Keiji: make something edible for him. In middle and high school, you felt that food was the least awkward thing you could give to him if he did something for you, considering that you felt you two weren’t very close. Permanent gifts were a touch too intimate, and you could always hide the fact that you were gifting him something under the pretense of wanting to give it to his mother instead. Any batch of cookies, muffins, palmiers, or pastries were mainly meant for him, saying thanks for walking home with you, driving you home, entertaining you during get-togethers, letting you win in Monopoly for once, and many more. That was something you originally planned to take to your grave since you figured that Keiji would find it weird or disturbing, but now…now seemed okay.

Just not this exact moment.

“To a new beginning,” you decide and lift up your glass, angling it towards him for cheers.

“To a new beginning,” he echoes. Keiji clinks his glass against you and you both take a sip, his eyes glimmering over the rim.

You are very tipsy. Borderline drunk. You honestly can’t remember the last time you got wine drunk, but somehow you just couldn’t stop drinking. If you had to give your best estimate, about 70% of the red wine had been consumed by you. And now that the dessert wine was open, you were nearing 60% of that as well.

Keiji sits on the opposite side of the couch from you, indulging you by letting you watch Ouran High School Host Club through some streaming service on his TV. It had been ages since he last saw anything from it, though he mainly focuses on your how far your inebriation is getting ahead of you. An hour ago, he had placed a cup of water by your side, though there was still half of it left. He wonders if he should be cutting you off soon, but you look too carefree and happy. And from experience, he knows that you could easily walk in a straight line if told to. It was an uncanny ability that you possessed, one that was somewhat showcased when you and Tetsuro showed up at a house party in college he just happened to also attend. Smashed overexaggerated your drunken state at the time, but the glossy look in your eyes now was very similar to that incident all those years ago.

The laugh that erupts from your chest as a result of Haruhi’s deadpan humor is slurred and lasts a little too long to be considered normal. Keiji feels his chest ease up when you reach for the water this time instead of the alcohol and chug it all down. He freezes when you turn towards him with a lazy smile spread across your face, but it turns into a pout when you hand him the now empty mug.

“Keiji-kun,” you mumble. “Please gimme more water?”

“You can’t get it yourself?” He taunts, chuckling when your pout intensifies.

“I don’t wanna acci-acc-accid-accidentally break the mug. You brought it from your parents’, right? I used this one all the time back then.”

“Mmm,” he hums, prying the porcelain from your hands and standing to comply with your request.

Not even a minute passes after he returns when you clumsily shift closer to him. He doesn’t even have to time to internally gasp when you lay down on your back and plop your head onto his thighs, his arms now slightly suspended in the air because he honestly has no idea what to do with them. The best he can come up with is resting one arm on the back of the couch, the other tentatively placed on top of your head. He fights the need to run his fingers through your hair, although knowing it would bring you some comfort as the world begins to blur. It takes everything in him to not look down, but he’s not absorbing anything from the anime. The sounds fall short to the pounding in his ears, and the only time he can remember being this nervous was their last volleyball match during Nationals.

“Thank you, Keiji.”

“Hm? For what?”

“…sticking up for me to Tetsu.”

“…didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Keiji attempts to digress, pinching the shell of your ear.

“It hurts!” You cry out, overstating the pain you felt. In his defense, he barely put any force behind it. “I just wanted to say thank you, ‘s all.”

“It was nothing, I—”

“You really think we’re friends?”

Keiji frowns. “I said that before, didn’t I? Did you ever think we weren’t?”

“Honestly…no, I didn’t,” you confess. It’ll be a miracle if you remember any of this tomorrow morning. “You always seemed so far away…there were a few times when I thought you maybe hated me, only tolerated me because you’d never hear the end of it from your mom if she ever caught you being mean to me. I mean, if you ever think about it…you never talked about yourself, y’know?”

Keiji pauses the TV, throwing the apartment into complete silence. He only hears your shaky breathing and the AC running.

“Anything I ever heard about you was from your mom because she’d tell my mom, and then my mom would gossip,” you continue, chuckling bitterly at the end. “I knew you, but did I really know you? It felt so weird, walking by you in school and knowing what you were struggling with. But then you’d just smile at me like nothing was wrong and that hurt.”

He’s been staring at the same frame for the last minute or so and feels more and more awful with every word that leaves your lips. Somehow it’s everything he’s wanted to hear for years, but it’s also so bittersweet and tragic. But the more important matter currently at hand is the sound of your sniffles. Oh god, are you crying? Keiji finally has a reason to look at you now, studying how a forearm is strewn across your eyes – but he can see the tear tracks and feel the dampness on his sweatpants as they slide down your face. He attempts to move the limb away but you resist as much as you can, though it doesn’t take much. Keiji reaches over and plucks out a tissue to help clean you up, trying to placate both you and the semblance of a heartbreak.

“I was always worried that you were just – hic – hiding your emotions, bottling them up inside until it’d burst one day. But then I had to – hic -- remind myself that you had other close friends to confide in. With how much you got along with your teammates, I figured they’d keep an eye on you…but I still worried a lot. I hoped that you’d finally open up during our family dinners someday. Instead, it took a break-up and me getting drunk.”

He’s frozen when you lift your hand to his face, the tips of your fingers barely ghosting over his jawline. The anguish in your eyes is palpable; he can’t help but broaden the contact, leaning into your palm until it’s cradling his cheek while maintaining eye contact with you.

“You were okay, right?” You whisper. “You could talk to Koutaro? Or Akinori?”

Keiji’s gaze softens considerably. He analyzes the drooping of your eyelids, how they fight to stay open until you receive a desirable answer from him. It’s incredibly touching how much you wanted to reach out to him during all those years, waiting, wishing, hoping. You were right – he did expose some of his more vulnerable moments to his teammates. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t have days where he ached to call you and spill every negative emotion he was feeling.

“I was okay, I promise,” Keiji reassures you, giving in to comb through your hair. “Thank you, (y/n), for caring about me.”

Your arm slowly drops from its hold and curls up against your chest. Even in your drunken state, you feel at peace, like the world has finally been lifted from your shoulders. It’s the answer that you’ve been silently searching for all this time, the unknown stewing and festering in the back of your mind.

“I’m…glad…”

Keiji observes as you fall asleep and your breaths even out. With a heavy sigh, he gathers you into his arms bridal-style, hoping that the jostling doesn’t wake you up. Just like last night, he tucks you into bed, though not without leaving a gentle press of his lips against your temple.

The futon is cold and lonely. He’s really starting to not like it very much.

Wednesday and Thursday fly by so fast that he wonders if he accidentally time-traveled into Friday. Before he knows it, you’re rolling your suitcase out of his bedroom and towards his front door. As you slip on your shoes, your mind rattles off the locations of your important things: phone, wallet, keys, passport, driver’s license, and more. You turn back to look at your gracious host, shooting him your most appreciative smile.

“Thank you for everything this past week, Keiji. You don’t know how much it means to me, and I promise I’ll pay you back somehow.”

“I was happy to have you, and you’ve done more than you needed to in trying to pay me back. Are you sure you don’t need me to drop you off at the airport?”

“I couldn’t impose on you any longer,” you wave off. “An Uber will do just fine.”

“You’ll let me know when you’re there? When you get back to your apartment?”

“Yes, mother,” you poke fun at him, laughing at the way he rolls his eyes.

“I’ll let that one pass for now. Remember, you can call me anytime, okay? About anything, it doesn’t matter. Just don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll remember that. See you around then?”

“See you around. Be safe.”

Neither of you make a move, not until Keiji steps forward to wrap you in a tight embrace. You do your best to return it ounce of ounce, bundling the back of his shirt in your fists. The last seven days have been pivotal to your friendship and you’ll never forget everything he’s done for you. Minutes pass, neither wanting to pull back until you can’t anymore, needing to meet the Uber outside. Keiji doesn’t have the heart to walk you all the way to the main entrance of the apartment complex, and you don’t force him.

Sitting in the airplane back to Sapporo is much less nerve-wracking than you originally predicted. You already have a list in mind of how to clear things out with Tetsuro, what steps you two need to take to make this split as seamless as possible. Various apartment listings had been bookmarked over the last couple of days, units big enough for just one person rather than two. The wound is still somewhat fresh, but scabs have already begun to form. You have Keiji to thank for in this process of healing.

As promised, you update him whenever you can, the final notice sent when you stand outside the door of your and Teturo’s apartment. It’s impossible for the nerves to not strike you now, even more so as you slowly unlock the door. The work shoes to the side of the doorway indicates that he is home, probably passed out in bed after a long shift. You quietly pad around the unit while putting some of your stuff away, though leaving the suitcase in the living room for now. When you step into the bedroom, Tetsuro is curled up on your side of the mattress, breathing deeply and soundly.

Two months ago, you would have peppered his face with kisses, demanding that he give you enough room to cuddle next to him. He would have opened his arms willingly, trapping you effectively in his new cage and you would’ve never thought of wanting to escape from him. So much has changed now, you think as you sit on the edge. You believe your action was subtle, but he stirs from his asleep, addressing the fact that you have returned. There is no screaming or crying, no tears or pleading. Instead, he shifts closer to give you an awkward hug around your waist while still laying on his side. It’s not the kind of hug that says, “Welcome home,” or “I miss you”, though.

It says, “I’m sorry,” and the placement of your hand on his embrace replies, “It’s okay.”

2 years later

Keiji likes this new routine with you.

For the last year and a half, you two schedule a weekly video call to catch up with each other. He likes this because he can watch you pull yourself together, adjust to the new life without Tetsuro. He gets to hear all the work stories that the other stopped bothering to pay attention to, no longer waiting for your next Snapchat or Instagram story update. Keiji’s at the friendship level now where he knows something has happened before you even post the photo. Sometimes you both cook together, finding a recipe that you’ll want to try. Other times you might just want to watch an episode or two of a show that’s caught both of your interests, swearing to each other that you’ll avoid spoilers or watching ahead.

It’s not the kind of relationship he truly wants with you, but it’s close enough and he’d be a fool to not take it.

Last week, you had to miss the video call, saying that your boss dropped a massive project onto your desk. You were going to be pulling overtime, and Keiji reminds you to take the necessary breaks. Texting is sparse and he feels the worry exponentially grow – were you pushing yourself too hard? Were you eating foods other than convenience store bentos and onigiris? Were you getting enough sleep at night?

His phone blares your custom ringtone from his kitchen counter and Keiji practically lunges for it, quickly picking up and holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Have you had dinner yet?”

What is this feeling of déjà vu? “I was about to start cooking something up just now, why? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was so busy, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk last week. What about you?”

“I’m good, everything’s normal. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way home. By the way, I bought you a gift. They said it got delivered not a few minutes ago.”

“Really? That’s weird, the front desk usually notifies me as soon as they get it. But you shouldn’t have.”

“Consider it an early birthday present,” he hears and relishes in the warmth your words bring. “Why don’t you go downstairs and check?”

“I guess I can. Stay on the phone with me?”

“Of course.”

“What’d you get me?”

“What’s the point in me telling you when you’re about to open it in a few minutes?”

“Well,” Keiji starts and wrenches open the door. “I—”

He stops in his tracks, voice caught in his throat. You stand sheepishly before him, phone still at your ear as you drink in his stunned expression. Keiji doesn’t get taken by surprise very often, and you wish you had a camera for this moment. Koutaro would’ve loved it.

“Hey there,” he hears from you and through the speaker, a slight delay between the two phrases as his mind grasps at the situation.

“Why are you here?” He asks, hanging up and letting you in. Keiji hopes it doesn’t sound as rude as it might’ve come across. Like a gentleman, he takes your jacket and allows you enough space to take off your shoes.

“They’re doing renovations at my new apartment so I can’t really move in yet…I was wondering if I could stay here for a few days?”

Wait, new apartment? “Are you moving back to Tokyo?”

Excitement isn’t enough to describe the pure feeling of joy that runs through his veins when you nod. This is what you must have been so busy dealing with, packing everything up and scheduling a small moving van. All you have is your purse and a large suitcase, meaning that the rest of your belongings must still be en route.

“You can stay for as long as you need to. Take the bed, I can—”

“Actually, I lied. Not about moving to Tokyo,” you quickly defend when he seems to bristle at your words. “There aren’t any renovations and the rest of my stuff is coming tomorrow…but I purposely booked a ticket to get here today. You’re the first person I wanted to see.”

Not your parents, not some of your other friends. Him. You wanted to come and see him first before anyone else. The tone in your confession holds so much weight, a fondness in them that’s too intimate for someone who was just a friend. This was your way of trying to let him know that there was something more going on, but you were afraid that he would reject you. The ball was in his court now, and it was entirely up to him to decide how to proceed.

No one knows you better than him. No one is in tune or in sync with you as much as he is. It’s terrifyingly thrilling, but you want this. You want him.

So he takes one stride forward, cradles your face between his hands, and crashes his lips onto yours with a searing passion that’s been kept under lock and key for far, far too long. It’s perfect, you smile to yourself. But most of all…

It feels like home.

Bonus (a week later):

[Konoha]: hey, kou, is keiji dating anyone????

[Bokuto]: not that I know of??? why???

[Konoha]: apparently he just rsvp’d to my wedding and said he’s bringing a plus one??? i’m so confused, why wouldn’t he tell us??

[Bokuto]: did your fiancée see a name anywhere?

[Konoha]: hang on, she’s checking.

[Konoha]: oh shit.

[Konoha]: OH SHIT.

[Konoha]: HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK

[Bokuto]: WHO IS IT YOU BETTER TELL ME RIGHT NOW

[Konoha]: HE’S BRINGING FUCKING (Y/N) JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

[Bokuto]: ABOUT GODDAMN TIME

[Konoha]: YOU OWE ME 5000 YEN, PAY UP

525 notes · View notes

mrwinterr · 4 years

Text

Die Happy

Pairing: Ghost!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader; tiny hint of Sam Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: You summon a really friendly ghost.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual vibes all around, masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral [female receiving]) and language. Dabbling into the occult (use of a Ouija board).

Disclaimer: I’m a spooky bitch, I like how Ouija boards look like, but I would NEVER mess with them.

Title Inspiration: “Die Happy” by Dreamers

A/N: I was on Reddit and I stumbled across an erotic audio that inspired this, so I definitely owe it to them. I’ve just been dying to write a ghost AU. I decided to hold back on the smut on this for now and maybe save it for later. This can be turned into a series, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Idk. You tell me! Enjoy!

It’s here.

It’s finally here. The package that would help you find the answers you were so desperately looking for was finally here.

Package in hands, there’s a skip to your steps as you happily make your way back into the living room of your somewhat new home. You had moved in almost six months ago, but it still felt so surreal. You, a homeowner. All those years of saving up and house hunting - you finally did one of the most adult things you could do in your life.

The small house had been in the neighborhood for decades and owned by plenty before you, in fact, too plenty, but for a home in Brooklyn, New York it was surprisingly affordable. You’re still patting yourself on the back for how you managed to score this place at such a bargain price.

It was the ideal place, really; surrounded by friendly neighbors and with a great home association. It was at a reasonable distance from your workplace and the city. Furthermore, cosmetically, it was your dream home. You never took a second to ask why someone would quickly put this home back on the market...until recently.

The realtor had assured you that everything in the house was functioning properly before you signed away. There was little to no refurbishing on your end, which was part of the dealbreaker, but now you can’t help to wonder if the realtor was duping you. A young, pretty woman and a first-time homeowner? That was easy bait for them, right? There had to be a catch or information that they were withholding and well, you weren’t about to wait any longer to find out.

Lately, strange things had been happening and while at first you brushed them off as mere coincidences, they were becoming almost too outstanding to ignore.

First, it was the air conditioning unit acting all wonky. You kept the house at a reasonable and comfortable temperature, but you found yourself often sporting hoodies even during the warmer seasons. The technicians couldn’t find a single problem with it and besides whenever you scheduled a visit for inspection, it was magically working just fine. Never mind the breeze that blew past you here and there…

Next, much like the AC unit, the electricity started to have a mind of its own. Before you could flip the light switch or press the button on your remote, it was always one step ahead of you. It was almost like you were living in a smart house, but instead of acting on voice command, it read your mind.

Not to mention, things disappeared and reappeared every now and then. Small things like the morning paper would vanish from the coffee table and if you couldn’t locate where you last left your keys, you never searched too far.

Then the eeriest one of them all was the unexplained smell. There was a distinct yet alluring scent that would waft by when you felt that breeze pass over. You had deduced that it wasn’t any like of your fragrance collection nor was it from the only friend that visited you. It was a pleasant odor and almost calming to you.

You didn’t want to believe it, but these weren’t just common occurrences - these were tall tale signs of a haunting. The spirit wasn’t vengeful, that much you gathered since it didn’t make attempts to harm you in any way. Sure you could just either ignore these oddities or relist the home, the latter which wasn’t in your favor because it wasn’t that simple. Instead, curiosity won the best of you and you opted to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

“Whoa!” You hear your close friend Sam Wilson exclaim and watch as he scoots to the other end of the couch as far away as he could when you pull the Ouija board out from the box. “Shit, girl. I knew you liked Halloween, but I didn’t think you were that spooky!” He said, his eyes bugging out in disbelief that you’d ordered such a thing.

You roll your eyes at him and place the board on the coffee table. He immediately gets up from his spot and sets what he deems is a safe distance from it as if the object was cursed. You’re not deterred by the Ouija board at all. It had quite the opposite effect because you were all too fascinated with the supernatural.

“You really shouldn’t mess with that kind of stuff,” Sam warns as you handle the remaining piece, the planchette.

“I don’t know why you’re so scared,” you respond, blowing him off and kicking away the now empty box.

“And you’re not?!” He says incredulously, “trying to speak to the dead is not right!” Well, it certainly wasn’t normal, but so weren’t the things that were happening in your home lately.

“I need to find answers, Sam!” You bite back, the volume of your voice matching his. You didn’t miss the hint his exclamations gave off and it bothered you. “What do you expect me to do? Continue living like this? I’m not in control of my own home.”

Oh, he knew. He was your closest friend and you trusted him enough to share your theories about your home and the experiences in it.

“You really think this place is haunted.” It comes off as more of a statement because he can see you’ve clearly made up your mind on how you’re going to prove the theory.

“Why do you think I can’t have Sarge or any pets over?” You absolutely adored Sam’s dog Sarge, but he made it apparent that he didn’t like something about or in your house.

Before Sam could try and spit out an explanation you’ve already heard, you stopped him, “I’m not going crazy! And I certainly am not going to spend another fee on having a technician tell me there’s nothing wrong with the units again.”

“Look. Why don’t you just come spend the night at my place and we can think of another way to approach this?” He offered and you knew that offer all too well. It had always been on the table. When you decided to move to Brooklyn and were looking for your own place, Sam had offered you a room, but you were hellbent on making it on your own. You were proud and independent...and weren’t sure about taking the next step with him.

Sam was everything your past lovers weren’t and you while you both weren’t official, a couple of dates happened here and there, something was holding you back. You cherished his friendship so much and a part of you feared finding out what it could be that you weren’t willing to jeopardize what you two already had if anything more came out of it and then failed miserably. He made it clear how he felt about you, but you brushed it off casually each time. Sam knew you simply weren’t ready.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” You reply, breaking away from seeing the look of concern on his face and back to the planchette your hands were fidgeting with. You knew he was a skeptic on these kinds of things and only worried for your safety.

The nights he had spent here nothing strange ever happened. It’s like these occurrences were only happening about you. Sam wasn’t sure if he believed in ghosts or not, and he deeply cared for you, but he wasn’t about to stick around and find out. He knew that you could be stubborn, but there was only so much he could do to change your mind from where he stood and he just hoped he hadn’t lost you yet.

The small crack of thunder in the sky indicated a storm was coming and you took that as a sign to convince Sam to leave for the day. You didn’t want to fight with him about this. The few times you did talk about a possible haunting were just humorous conversations to Sam, but you were always being serious. It was evident that you two were not on the same page.

“You should probably start heading home before the rain comes,” you advise, standing up to walk over to the front door, hoping it’d sway him, but he knew what you were doing. Sam wasn’t mad. He was always very patient with you.

He only nods in false agreement before following your lead. “I’m coming back first thing in the morning to check if you’re still alive though,” he jokes, before pulling you in for a hug and giving you a kiss to the side of your head. His words elicit a light chuckle from you, but is mostly muffled against his biceps, then you’re playfully shoving him out the door.

As soon as his car disappears from the end of the street, you jolt and head snaps quickly at a sudden crash from the kitchen. You make your way in that direction to find the mug gifted to you on your last birthday from Sam shattered in pieces all over the kitchen floor.

The last roar of thunder must’ve been a strong one or the elevation of the shelf had been slightly off or maybe the house didn’t like Sam…

You shook your head at that last silly thought from your mind and sighed preparing to clean up the mess. Once that was done, the gloomy weather quickly casted a blanket over the sky and with a remix of fast raindrops against the windows and pavement and the lag in thunder, you didn’t waste time on the mission.

What better time than now? It set the mood. Were you scared? You weren’t sure. You were already convinced you were living with a spirit. You didn’t ponder long enough to think about the aftermath. Was this all just a bunch of hocus pocus or pseudoscience? Would you get possessed by a demon or would he be like Casper?

The use of a Ouija board, especially by someone inexperienced as yourself, was highly not recommended and very much frowned upon during your upbringing. If only your parents could see you now...

The spirit in your home couldn’t be that bad though, right? If they wanted to possess you, they would’ve done so by now; unless they were just waiting for an invitation. Well, there was only one way to find out.

You dimmed the lights and lit a few candles around you. Was this insulting? You did some fair share of research, but most of what you knew about Ouija boards were credited to horror movies.

You take a deep breath and begin to summon your supposed roommate.

Bucky felt bad as he watched you clean up the mess he made in your kitchen. He knew you liked that mug, but he didn’t and he certainly didn’t like how Sam made you feel. Sam made you feel all sorts of things and Bucky knew that, which explained why Sam never experienced anything unusual in the house because Bucky didn’t like seeing you with him.

He was aware of how silly it was. A ghost jealous of two living humans. He had his turn, but it was tragically cut short. He was so young. He left everything behind to fight a World War. There was a high chance he wouldn’t come back and he was sadly part of that statistic.

But why did his afterlife have to consist of seeing the most angelic living human being just waiting to fall in love with the perfect living man? He didn’t get a chance to live out that part of his life, so was he bitter? Yes. And especially outraged at any distress that was brought upon the current tenant of his old home.

Bucky wasn’t sure why he was able to roam around his old stomping ground over the last couple of decades. He tried his best to communicate with the previous owners but he always ended up scaring them off. When you moved in, if he wasn’t already dead, and you could’ve seen him, he just knew he would’ve been as pale as a well...ghost. He made sure to not send you running for the hills.

He tried to help you with everyday things, trying his best to be subtle. He didn’t even spy on you during private moments like in the shower or on those lonely, needy nights. He proved himself to be a ghostly gentleman.

He even tried to not eavesdrop on your conversations and almost always disappeared when guests were present, but he heard you raise your voice earlier at Sam. He wasn’t sure what you two were arguing about and sure it was petty on his part, but before he could summon enough energy to knock over the mug, Sam was already gone.

Bucky followed you back into the living room and watched as you lit the candles scattered around. He lightly smiled believing you were attempting to relax. If only seeing you in peace was enough to put him to rest - permanently - but when he sees you take a seat back on your couch his expression fell and he swore his heart would stop again if it could.

“Oh no,” he says as he watches you stare at the Ouija board on the table before you. Bucky starts pacing in front of you, his hands over his head. Anyone that set foot and stayed long enough knew this place was haunted, and he knew you weren’t stupid and besides he wasn’t as subtle as he’d like to have been lately.

“Is anyone here?” He hears you ask the first question. He looks over your direction and sees your eyes are closed with both hands on the planchette.

“Oh my God,” he barely whispers and realizes, “she’s really trying to talk to me.” He couldn’t believe you’d be so brave to risk such a thing and importantly willingly reaching out to him.

“Yes! I am! I’m here!” She can’t hear you, idiot. “Fuck, of course she can’t hear me.” Bucky argues with himself on what to do before he remembers how Ouija boards work.

He almost can’t believe it when he does it, but he’s able to delicately move your hands and slide the planchette over to the word ‘YES’.

Your eyes pop open and you gasp when you see that you got an answer. You're frozen and look up in front of you half expecting the spirit to show itself to you, but you don’t see anything.

At least that’s what you think. Unbeknownst to you, you’re staring right at Bucky or rather through him. His expression mirrors yours - complete and utter shock. He was never able to easily move or touch anything solid in years. The incident with the mug earlier, that kind of stuff usually required a lot of concentration and energy on his part. He’s also scared that he’s frightened you with that move, but at the same time excited that he’s successfully communicating with you.

You’re unsure if you should continue. You were half expecting this to be a bust, but it moved. It actually moved! While you were excited that this worked, the tiny voice in the back of your head had you considering that maybe you shouldn’t go any further, but who ever really listened to them? You blink a few times and refocus your attention on the task.

“What are you?” You ask.

“What am I?” Bucky repeats the question, “I’m dead.” Wait. He starts to spell the letters ‘D-E-A-D’ with your hands on the planchette. He compares the sight of the corners of your mouth lifting, amused at that response, of course he was dead, as to what angels must’ve felt like when they earned their wings. If anyone believed in that sort of stuff...either way he felt very blessed.

“You liked that one, didn’t you?” Bucky said more to himself with a big smile on his face. He loved this! It was like he was having a conversation with you. It was something he only ever dreamed of for the last six or so months.

A particular flash of lightning followed by a thunderous sound startles you and you breakaway from the Ouija board. You weren’t going to lie. You were still absolutely spooked out and decided that maybe that was enough contact with the dead for the day.

When your heartbeat finally returned to its normal pace, you got up and turned on the lights, made sure you blew all the candles out and turned in for the night. Before you left, Bucky watched you look around the room and bid goodnight to seemingly nothing, but he knew it was meant for someone - it was meant for him.

The days that followed, you were growing curiouser and curiouser that in your spare time, you started digging into how much can come out of the Ouija board, but first you needed to figure out who you were dealing with.

With as much access as you were granted, you found out about a man, who was around the same age as you, that had died during World War II and the hauntings that would start to occur after the first tenant took residence upon this home.

The house belonged to a man named James Buchanan Barnes, but signed it under the name Bucky. How cute. You thought to yourself over the nickname, then you saw an accompanying photo of who you assumed was living with you. It was in black and white and the quality wasn’t that up to par, but from what you could make out you could determine enough. Cute name for a cute guy.

You read the experiences of others that lived here before you and they all seemed harmless. They were just spooked and you didn’t blame them. They had every right to be scared, but you didn’t scare that easily.

You’re so engrossed with your findings, you barely paid any attention to Sam, even when he’d come in to check on you. He had the spare key in case of emergencies, and you ignoring most of his unreturned phone calls and missed texts, uncharacteristically you, to him was deemed as an emergency.

Sam was only less than thrilled to see your enthusiasm on all this. Normal people didn’t go around poking at the dead. He pointed out you were lucky you didn’t get possessed, not paying any mind or adhering to you claiming he was probably a friendly ghost.

“This isn’t an episode of Casper!” Sam says fed up again. His face falters as he watches your shoulders visibly slump. He hated killing the vibe, especially when you were excited, but you were excited about something all too unreal and that shouldn’t be messed with at all in the first place.

“What if I can help him?” You try reasoning with him, “What if I can help him pass on? Then I can live in peace...and so would he.”

“You’re already lucky that you’re unharmed,” Sam reminds you, “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know you are, but I’ll be fine,” you assure him, hoping you could keep that promise. After all, you couldn’t even confirm you were really communicating with Bucky.

You were relieved that the conversation with Sam didn’t take a turn for the worse like it easily could have. You understood where he was coming from and you were lucky to have someone like him care so much about your wellbeing. The realization never fails to punch you in the gut for not allowing yourself to give in.

So why were you more scared to commit than of willingly reaching out to a ghost?

Take two.

You sat perched up and ready to communicate once more. Bucky, on the other hand, is more than ready and the cool familiar breeze that passes you by lets you know that he’s here.

“Who are you?” There weren’t exactly formalities with contacting the dead and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you’re slowly spelling out ‘B-U-C-K-Y’.

“Bucky,” you whisper. Boy, did Bucky like the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“How did you...die?” you had to swallow in between the last word in that question, hoping it wouldn’t trigger a negative response. Even in the afterlife, death couldn’t be an easy topic.

The letters ‘W-A-R’ and the number ‘2’ gives you your answer. It was him! Internally, you’re overjoyed that you’ve figured out your ghostly John Doe, but you try to remain at ease.

“Did you knock down my mug?”

Bucky rolls his eyes at that, but swiftly moves your hands over to ‘YES’.

“Okay. I mean that wasn’t very nice,” you couldn’t just bite your tongue as the sass flowed right out of you.

‘S-O-R-R-Y’.

The apology takes you by surprise, and suddenly you weren’t mad about the mug anymore.

“It’s alright. It was just a mug,” you try to assure him. You’d just have to explain to Sam another time that the ghost broke it. No biggie. Yeah, right. What with the tiny arguments, he’d most likely believe you destroyed it out of anger and frustration at him.

Your arms were getting tired from the position they were in. Several minutes had passed since you last said anything to Bucky and you weren’t sure of what to ask next.

Where does this end? Do you ask him to leave? This is his home. No, it’s not anymore. It’s your home now. But he doesn’t belong here anymore. How do you help him pass on? Did you have that ability? Do you hire a medium? Enlist the help of a priest? Call a ghostbuster? Your mind grew tired all too quickly, you slumped back in your seat, breaking away from the Ouija board.

Bucky watched as you rubbed the muscles of your sore arms. He felt helpless. He wishes he could ease or take away your pain. Instead, all he could do was watch and make sure you were okay until you were ready to start talking again.

With your hands back on the items, you ask, “are you still here?” Bucky responds with ‘YES’. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself, before proceeding with the next question.

“Can you show yourself to me?” There the ultimate question and Bucky can’t help but ask why? Why were you interested in seeing him? He was a lost cause.

“No?” you ask more to yourself, still staring at the word through the eye of the planchette, and frown at his response.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to show himself to you, but he didn’t know how. For decades he was nothing but a gust of air. No matter how hard he tried to show himself to previous owners, he was never successful.

You pull your hands back away and place them in your lap, unsure of where to go from here. Well, you couldn’t force a ghost to do something they didn’t want to do, but you hoped that maybe perhaps seeing him would make it less taxing while communicating.

There’s a sudden iciness that covers the side of your cheek, sending a chill down your spine, causing you to flinch and your hand rising quickly to warm the spot.

Bucky almost disappears at the sudden reaction. He can’t believe it. You felt that. You could feel him. It was different than pushing your hands in different directions because this time, neither of you needed the help of the Ouija board.

You’re not sure where he is as your eyes scan the room, you wanted to feel that again. Sure, the cold was a bit alarming, and as sharp as his icy touch was, so was the surge that flowed through you. It was unexplainable, but soothing.

It sucked for Bucky because he couldn’t keep your eyes trained on just him.

“Are you sure you can’t show yourself?” You ask again, this time convinced you didn’t need the Ouija board anymore.

However, Bucky needed the board to reply. You sigh in defeat as you watch the planchette slide across to the word ‘YES’. You couldn’t allow yourself to get mad. You just couldn’t understand how it was possible for him to do all these other things, but not be able to show himself. Whatever it was, you’d just have to accept that you’d never understand ghost logic.

The sound of the planchette scraping against the board, offers you the word, ‘F-E-E-L’.

Feel? You definitely felt a presence, but now it was confirmed. It was him. He was trying to communicate through touch.

“Yes, I felt you,” you let Bucky know quite eagerly. The planchette remains unmoved after that and instead of what would appear to be awkward silence, the seconds that were passing by could be more appropriately compared to that of a ticking time bomb.

“Touch me,” you request.

Bucky’s stunned. If he were alive and well right now, he’d no doubt be on his knees for you with a command like that. He floats over to you and is only more than eager to touch you again, but he’s not sure of where. Feeling a soft anticipation of a ghostly tingle, he hesitantly places both hands on the underside of your jaw, in a cradle-like fashion, hoping it'll stop your wandering eyes.

You stand still, frozen in place, now seeing the breath of air that escapes your mouth in a cloud of smoke. He’s definitely here and in front of you.

“More,” you say barely above a whisper.

Fuck. Bucky inwardly swears at himself as you unintentionally egg him on. Testing his limits, what more could he already lose? He was already dead.

He goes all in. He leans in and presses his cold, dead lips to yours in the most gentle and light kiss ever. When he pulls away, he sees that your eyes have closed and he can’t help immediately start to wonder if you actually felt that or not. He sure as hell felt it. He can’t be certain as he tries to gauge at the expression on your face. Shit, why did he do that?

“Do it again,” and this time with a more affirmative tone, Bucky doesn’t question anything anymore and obeys. His lips dig deeper against yours, you let out a small moan and purse your lips to respond. You don’t think about how silly it must look to be making out with practically nothing, not knowing what to do with your hands because there was nothing to hold onto, but despite that it all felt too real. He was real.

Bucky’s mind is reeling at the sound of pleasure that spews from your mouth, he can’t comprehend how this is even possible. He’d been dying to know what kissing you felt like - what you felt like at all.

When your lips start to get numb and turn blue, you reluctantly pull away. You open your eyes to a dark room and wish you could at least hear him, the sounds of ecstasy played a pivotal role in intimacy.

Your body temperature returns to normal, blood rushing, mind a haze. You stand up and head towards your bedroom without another word. Would he take the cue to follow you? You can’t be sure. You can’t see or hear him, but your actions say otherwise and make you both feel as if he wasn’t dead at all. It was now a game of cat and mouse.

Bucky or not, you were unabashedly turned on. In moments like these, it was hard to be in control of your own body and the only thing you could do was give in to the desires. In this instance, your body couldn’t make up its mind because as if you weren’t just freezing your ass off while kissing Bucky, you were suddenly hot all over.

Flustered, you pulled down your shorts, tossed them carelessly across the room, perhaps a little too harshly. If he wasn’t going to help you out, then you would do the job yourself. A mad smile on your face, surprised you weren’t the least bit embarrassed if he was going to watch you or not. It only added to the thrill and the excitement.

Trying to regulate your breathing, you lie down on the center of your bed and run your hands over your face down to where you needed them the most. Your fingers experimentally graze along the wet spot of your panties, groaning in acknowledgment of the sudden arousal. There’s no sense in conjuring up a justifiable explanation as to how something so seemingly innocent as the kiss you shared with Bucky got you so crazed. Not wasting any time, you lift your hips up and bend your legs to slip the flimsy garment off.

No longer a thin barrier between, your entire body shivers slightly, a sharp gasp escaping your lips, when your fingers make first contact with your clit and you begin to rub slow slow circles over it. Your stomach sinks in with each relieving exhale, your breathing growing heavy. Your fingers run off course and dip into your folds, past the floodgates, your fingers resurface coated in your own wetness and you use it to an advantage in invigorating your clit.

Eyes closed, you start to think about Bucky. You want to feel guilty or believe this was all wrong. Instead of getting off to someone like Sam or someone real for that matter, you lied there baring yourself to a ghost. You try to picture that baby face of his, and all that you could based on the lone image you found of him on the Internet.

The curve of his full lips that you were fortunate enough to feel on yours moments ago. You already knew they were soft, but what about his other features? Did his eyes sparkle or were they like black holes? What color were they? They had to be of a set that could hypnotize someone. Maybe it was okay that you couldn’t see him because if you had you just knew that you’d be at his mercy.

And that was just on the surface of it all. How was he like in other areas? How would his tongue feel against yours, on your skin, in you...The simulation causes your thighs to clamp up, knees involuntarily knocking into each other; your other hand clutching onto the bed sheets. He made it that easy, but you needed one more good push to dive in the deep end.

A thin layer of sweat coats your skin from the increase in body heat, then an abrupt familiar cold sensation runs through you, his alluring scent filling your nostrils, your legs forcefully separate; all tells you that Bucky was here. You pick up your head, always a small hint of disappointment flashes through your features at the fact you still and won’t be likely to ever see him.

It shoots a wild pang through Bucky’s chest because he doesn’t miss it; never knowing he could read someone so openly. He missed out on a good chunk of his life. He missed out on someone like you. Life was so cruel.

Your thoughts aren’t as far away from his as you start to wonder, why was it all so easy - seamlessly flawless - with him? Running with only first-party information and two silent conversations, you were already willing to go headfirst for halos for Bucky. Was it pathetic? You didn’t care anymore, whatever would ultimately bring you to him, you just knew in the end you’d die happy.

Your head falls back in defeat and you try to keep your emotions at bay, until you feel the hem of your shirt being lifted, exposing your midriff. Your lips cave in and you wince at each uncalculated cold peck Bucky’s lips leave on you. Whereas you felt a minor sting at how cold his touches were, for the first time, Bucky felt like he was on fire at how hot to the touch you were in this moment. This moment with him.

His lips create a path down to your core, and the contrast in temperature feels good. Not knowing what to do with your hands again, your arms lie sprawled on the bed on either side of your body, then you mentally curse at another sad truth that you had no one to hold on to.

A cool breeze brushes past your folds and your heartbeat spikes up again. Bucky never imagined he’d ever be able to make someone feel this way. It was pointless for him, but he dreamt about it countless times. And then he wickedly thinks how he was dumb to not spy on you during those nightly sessions. He was missing out. You were absolutely divine in his eyes.

“Bucky,” his name slips past your lips when his make contact with your swollen clit. It started off so innocently, but when he pulled his lips back and ran his tongue over the wet spot you left on them, giving him a taste of what you had to offer, he wanted more.

The cold, with each bit of contact from Bucky, was no longer a thing as your body quickly acclimated to it. Bucky uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips apart and allows himself to get a better taste. Your head lulls back, sinking in deeper into your pillows.

There’s only so much you could do to communicate with Bucky, you want to feel his hands all over, but instead you pick up on the slack as you grab and squeeze handfuls of your breasts, massaging them and adding onto the sensation. Your groping proves to be successful when you draw out more noises.

Bucky’s eyes never tear away from watching your reaction, the way your body moves from pleasure - pleasure he’s bestowing on you. His mouth doesn't require guidance as his tongue pulls all the right moves, weaving its way through and between your folds. He drags out a long moan from you when he dips his tongue in and then captures your folds between his lips, tugging as he sucked on them.

“I-I need,” you try to voice out your desires, but you’re reveling in so much, especially in being able to feel Bucky’s fingers digging into the sides of your hips; you bite down on one of your fingers, trying not to let out a crazed scream.

Bucky doesn’t want you to hold back though, so he introduces his fingers into the mix as they take turns in you. You wished you could hear him and all the sounds of his onslaught. To hear those pretty boy moans, the filthy pops and slurping noises. Was he a dirty talker? God. Imagine the things he would say.

He gets the message loud and clear. You want to come, and so he quickens his actions until your body goes into overdrive. When you reach your peak, your eyes snap open, pupils blown, and your back arches up in perfect bridge-like fashion. It almost looks like you’re being possessed before you come back down releasing choppy gasps of breaths.

Exhausted, you struggle to stay conscious wanting to communicate with Bucky one last time, but it felt like the orgasm almost sucked the life out of you. The puffs of cool air against your pussy are an indication that Bucky is still present and he wasn’t going to go anywhere just yet. He hasn’t moved from his position and is short of breath, in awe of seeing you coming undone for him and more so the fact that this happened. This wasn’t just another one of his dreams.

For as long as he’d been an apparition, he’d hoped to be able to finally pass on and if this was his actual last day on Earth, then he’d gladly accept it because one night with you was enough.

Bucky would die happy.

A/N: Yeah, the ending wasn’t strong, but I wanted to leave it open for interpretation. Let me know what you think! A simple like and reblog is enough to help a sis out! Thank you for reading!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfic #ghost!bucky barnes #ghost!bucky #ghost au #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you

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neowinestainedress · 3 years

Text

DYNASTY / NCT

CHARACTHERS

TAEYONG LEE "I've been having a hard time adjusting. I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting"

The role of the leader passed at him naturally. When the fire changed their lives forever, none of the others hesitated for a moment to know that the future of the city had to be put in his hands. Yet, he didn't feel the same. He couldn't see how they had so much hope and trust in him to hold things together when he couldn't even hold himself, anymore. But he knew that they still saw in him the protective older brother that used to take care of everybody and tried to defend them from everything, unfortunately, he knew that child wasn't there anymore.

𝞦

THE PROTECTOR

In charge of protecting the city and looking after the citizens. He's helped by his team, divided between the protectors who stay at the door of the city to control who comes in and out, and a team inside of the city that mostly focuses on the citizens' needs and external relations.

JOHNNY SUH "Cause in the end the road is long, but only cause it makes strong. It's filled with twist and peaks and turn. Sometimes you have to learn to forget about it."

If there was something Johnny was good at, it was observing. He loved to see things from a different point of view and analyze them since he was a child, so it wasn't surprising when the role of the protector was given to him. He always believed that everything happens for a reason, and you can choose to make it kill you or make you stronger. He once went for the first one and lost a loved one, so he won't let that happen again.

𝞦

THE THINKERS

The unit in charge of the bureaucracy. They are the ones that take care of the plans for the city, helping Taeyong with their outstanding logical thoughts skills. They can always maintain calm, even in the worst situations, always trying to weigh the pros and cons of the situation.

TAEIL MOON "All the things that I've done and I've seen. Still I don't know, don't know what it means, to be human."

Taeil always felt a big weight on his chest for being the eldest of the group and not manacing to protect them all. He wasn't the one who started to see the red flags, he never stopped Taeyong and Anastasia and their reckless plan. Thoughts haunt him at night that he should've done better. As the oldest, he had seen the worst thing, but the more he tries to remember, the more he feels disconnected from reality.

DOYOUNG KIM "Tell me the truth, tell me, do you still remember feelin' young and strong enough to get it wrong in front of all these people?"

Doyoung has always been the most impassible one of all of them. Nothing could tarnish him. He strongly believed that behind everything there was a scientific and logical explanation. He had no time to let himself get caught in pointless things like emotions and hypotheses. But with that came a strong need of never failing, because he couldn't let people see him as weak, or wrong. He always had to get it right on the first try. Live, though, loved to prove him wrong. .

TEN LEE "'Cause I feel like I'm the worst, so I always act like I'm the best."

Ten intelligence has always been witty and sharp. With his way, he could manipulate anybody with a blink of an eye. He loved control and power, and the feeling they brought with them. He always had to be one step in front of the others and know exactly what to do, how and when. But behind all of this confidence, a fear of failing hid behind.

𝞦

THE FIGHTERS

The unit in charge of fighting. Their abilities are mostly physical and differentiated in different specialities. They have been training since they were children and all of them got better in a specific field but overall they developed ability in all the ??.

YUTA NAKAMOTO "My demons are begging me to open up my mouth. I need them mechanically make the words come out. They fight me, vigorous and angry, watch them pounce. Ignite me, licking up the flames they bring about."

Yuta had one thing in mind, revenge. He had to carry with him the name of the people that put them through the worst and he couldn't bear it anymore. He wanted to see them beg for forgiveness and then take everything from them just like they did.

JAEHYUN JEONG "My heart's gone bad, now it won't beat for you. You had your laugh, now I won't play the fool. I've lied for you, and I liked it too. But I'm black and blue, from bleedin' for you."

Jaehyun has always been quiet, always in a corner, respecting the rules and never talking back. At least in front of their parents and all the things he was afraid of. He was calm of nature, that's what they would say to him. But the more life marked him, the more he realized he had a fire inside, and they weren't ready to see the flames.

LIV HANSEN "I can feel the flames on my skin. Crimson red paint on my lips. If a man talks shit, then I owe him nothing. I don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming."

Liv was just like her name, life. Her burning red hair was flames itself, just like her. Dangerously pretty, dangerously quiet. Nobody could shut her, always saying what she was thinking since she was a child. She never let anybody step on her or tell her no. She had always been a force of nature, protecting everyone around her like a summer breeze caressing skin at night, until she realised that in that world she had to be a hurricane to protect who she loved, and never fail again.

LUCAS WONG "I don't envy, I will survive. And I've been begging and begging myself, please don't close your eyes. I don't have tears, I cried it all."

Lucas has always been the positive one of the group, the one that managed to always bring happiness even in the worst situations. He wasn't a hopeless romantic, he simply had to try and find the good in everything to survive. He knew it couldn't rain forever.

𝞦

THE HEALERS

The unit of doctors. They mostly learned by themselves, studying hard as soon as they realized they needed to always have somebody who could heal their friends. And then have been trained professionally. They work downtown at the medicals studios but also operate in the palace.

KUN QIAN "Losing is easy, winning takes bravery. I am a tiger's fool Out in the open. No one to save me. The kindest of whispers are cruel."

Kun always liked taking care of the others, from the smallest things to the biggest. So it wasn't surprising for him to be a healer. But he also had another passion, magic. It had started when he was bored and had nothing to do, behind everybody's eyes. People were scared of the unknown, and he simply found it stupid, because, behind every magic trick, there was logic. Little did it know, what life had planned for them.

SICHENG DONG "I found what I'd been looking for in myself. Found a life worth living for someone else. Never thought that I could be happy. I believe in possibility. I believe someone's watching over me."

The bad things that happened in his life never made him lose hope. He believed in kindness. But most importantly, he believed in people and that everybody could have another chance in life. Helping others came naturally for him because nothing could come close to the feeling he got when he saw the person he helped have a smile on their faces.

𝞦

THE DREAM CHASER

The unit made of teenagers who are not children of The Rebels, except for Mark. Their team is wide and filled with other personalities that don't take place in the other units, except for a thinker, a healer and two fighters.

MARK LEE ⮚fighter

DEJUN XIAO ⮚pilot

HENDERY WONG ⮚ hacker

RENJUN HUANG ⮚thinker

JENO LEE ⮚ training fighter

DONGHYUCK LEE ⮚ hacker

JAEMIN NA ⮚ healer

YANGYANG LIU ⮚ racer

CHENLE ZHONG ⮚ chemist

JISUNG PARK ⮚ hacker

𝞦

JUNGWOO KIM "I live inside my own world of make-believe. Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities. I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach. Cross out the ones who heard my cries and watched me weep."

Being a functional human being felt impossible to him, by now. Anxiety trapped him in a cage and it felt worst than when that trap were burning flames. He couldn't let go of his past and the pain they inflected him, and he couldn't let any of his friends close to him again, terrified they would use him against them again.

ANASTASIA ARENAS "But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time. Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time."

Anastasia has always been inconvenient, she never liked their little games, and she always made it clear. That's why they had to get rid of her. If only they knew she would've found a way back home, and this time ready to break the chain once for all.

ANIKA SINGH "I didn't have it in myself to go with grace, and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. You had to kill me but it killed you just the same."

Is it possible to have a family, a house, and feel like you don't have a place where you belong? For her, it was. Anika spent her whole life being somebody her father wanted her to be. She was trapped between her duties and her dreams, always selfless, focused on taking care of her sisters. But what if the perfect daughter chooses herself for once?

SOOMIN WAN "Now I breathe flames each time I talk. My cannons all firin' at your yacht. They say 'move on' but you know I won't."

Soomin learned how to survive all by herself. She has no idea what a family is, and she's not even looking to find out. She's only looking for revenge. Because she used to have a family, before they took it away from her, right in front of her eyes. Nobody likes a mad woman, but He wanted her to be like that.

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blazedbakugou · 3 years

Text

a fake smile is still a smile

In which it’s the same old story, only this time it’s told from your perspective, heartbreaks and forced smiles included.

a/n: this is part three to my Bakugou mini series, it takes place after part one and before part two. I don’t know if there will be more parts after this so for now I’m going to say that this is the final part.

read part one & two

genre: angst with like one fluffy scene

warnings: more angst but I threw in some fluff this time

word count: 2.1k

pairing(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

figures - jessie reyez

The past week had been rough. You had been left a confused and emotional mess after Bakugou’s temper tantrum at the party. It was humiliating to have to go through that in front of all your friends, so you figured it would be best if you asked Mina to take you home. You hardly left your apartment during that week, only getting out of bed if you were expected to show up at work that day because the bills had to get paid somehow. It was an endless cycle of working 9-5 shifts, eating whatever take-out leftovers were left from the previous night, and laying in bed feeling absolutely miserable.

You hated that you felt this way, especially over something so stupid. Your friends did their best to show that they were worried about you, but their texts went unanswered and calls were sent straight to voicemail. The kind gestures were appreciated, truly they were. You just weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone and waste more energy pretending to be fine, the past few years of doing so had drained you more than you cared to admit.

Five years you had spent covering up your true feelings for the blonde pro-hero. Five years of holding your tongue and instead offering a stupid smile. Five miserable years of wearing a lousy mask that slowly chipped away at you from the inside until you were nothing more than an empty soul. Five years had passed since the day you fell in love with Bakugou and even then, you never forgot a single detail of how it happened.

- - -

The crisp autumn air left a dull sting on your face as you walked alongside your best friend, pink petals raining down and landing in clusters on the park’s grass. Fifteen minutes ago you would have welcomed the sensation gladly, but now that the sun was starting to set and its warmth had been replaced with a chilly breeze— you were starting to regret not bringing a sweater. You folded your arms across your chest and tucked your hands safely under your upper arms in an attempt to preserve whatever warmth you had left.

“Hey, dumbass. Did ya really forget to bring a sweater? Tch should’ve known you’d pull something this stupid.” Bakugou scoffed, glancing at you through his peripheral vision.

You frowned, “Didn’t know it was gonna get this cold… but I’ll be fine, besides we’re not too far from home so I can suck it up ‘til then.”

“You really think I’m going to let you run the risk of getting sick? Maybe the cold is already getting to you, usually, you’re not this slow.”

To outsiders, this would’ve come off as offensive and rightfully so. Except you were no outsider for you were able to recognize the hidden demonstration of compassion through the way he was already shrugging off his jacket. The blonde wordlessly handed it to you, though it was more of a gentle shove, and waited for you to put it on.

“I said I was fine,” you sighed but accepted the jacket nonetheless, “but what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You must be cold too, right?”

He looked at you for a moment with an indecipherable expression before replying, “you don’t have to worry about me, dumbass. I only gave it to you because I can’t have my training partner getting sick. I run hot anyway.”

“If you say so, Katsu. Thank you though, I appreciate it.” You smiled at him as you slipped your arms through the sleeves.

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say.” Bakugou jabbed his elbow into your side, the corner of his mouth turned up into what could’ve possibly qualified as the world’s slightest smile.

A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, the rustling of leaves and your synced footsteps created the perfect harmony. The end of your first year at UA was quickly approaching for both of you, also marking an entire year of knowing each other. It was funny to think about how only a year after passing the entrance exams, you’d somehow managed to end up wearing his jacket which he had willingly given up. The same jacket which enveloped you in the most comforting scent in existence, it mostly smelled like Bakugou with a slight hint of something else that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. The question lingered on your mind as you thought hard about what it could be.

“Caramel apples!” you gasped.

“What’re ya talking about, dumbass?”

A small wave of embarrassment washed over you at the realization that he’d heard you, “nothing…”

The blonde merely huffed in response, shoving his hands into his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice the way the scene painted before you looked so pretty; the orange and pink hues in the sky, the golden rays of sunshine casting down on him, the cherry blossom petals fluttering around. It was a breathtaking moment truly, so without a second thought, you took out your phone to try and capture it. As observant as your best friend was, he noticed the lack of footfalls and stopped to turn around as well.

“Hey! Why’d you stop-” his sentence was cut short by the sound of the camera going off.

You simply showed him the picture, letting him see the art for himself. It had captured everything you hoped it would, your smiling face in the bottom left corner with the added bonus of his confused expression not too far in the distance. You took his scoff as a sign that he was done looking at the picture and shut off your phone before slipping it back into your pocket.

“What was that for?”

“I just thought you looked pretty.” You replied.

It was the honest truth. You were aware that your best friend was attractive, but it wasn’t until that moment had you realized just how beautiful he was in your eyes. The sun continued to cast down on him as if it was the universe’s way of letting you know that it agreed with you. It was amazing what wonders the right lighting could do in any given situation, in your case it had helped you realize that you were in love with the one and only, Katsuki Bakugou.

“Sh-shut up! You’re not supposed to call me that.” He grumbled.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, “whatever you say, Katsu.”

The rest of the walk home was a quiet one, though not awkward by any means. You took it as an opportunity to gather your thoughts on this big revelation you had just stumbled upon. Everyone always complained about how love was hard and scary which you found silly because, in your opinion, there was nothing difficult or terrifying about it. Love, in your opinion, was a beautiful thing, and who better to experience it with than with your own best friend?

“We’re here.” Bakugou’s gruff voice shook you from your thoughts and caused you to blink in surprise as you took in the view of your front door.

Now that he had walked you back home, you knew it was time to return his jacket. So with a reluctant sigh, you shrugged it off and began to hand it back to him until a better idea had crossed your mind. By some miracle, you had been gifted enough courage to hang the jacket over his shoulders, keeping your arms around his neck for perhaps a moment too long. The gap between you was so small that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. The blonde looked confused to be in such a compromising position, his carmine eyes shifting between glancing at your lips then back up to your eyes.

It would be so easy to just lean in and press your lips against his, especially because rare would be the chance you’d get to have him this close again. Part of you was screaming to just go for it and take the leap, but another part of you was aware that by taking that leap you would then risk ruining what you felt to be an amazing friendship. The responsible side of you won but before you could step back on your own, Bakugou had ripped your hands off him and taken two steps back.

“See ya at school tomorrow.”

You disguised the pain you felt in your chest with a small chuckle, “yeah, see you then…”

And like promised, you saw each other at school the very next day. Training went on as usual, though admittedly you pushed yourself harder than you normally did. You still joked around with your friends at lunch, though you opted for sitting across from Bakugou instead of your usual spot beside him. He walked you home from school just like he always did, though this time around you refused his offer to study at his house. Deep down you knew that he had taken note of the sudden changes in your behavior, so it disappointed you to see that he didn’t bother asking you about it.

The next few weeks were merely repeats of the same routine until eventually, you learned to move past your grievances. It got easier to breathe around him without feeling like you were suffocating, easier to distract yourself whenever you found yourself thinking about him for too long, easier to pretend everything was fine. Of course, the pain never went away. It dulled until it was nothing more than a subtle ache in the depths of your heart, an ache you had grown to live with. After that fateful day, you walked around with a smile only half as bright as it once was.

- - -

Suddenly the picture frame in your hand felt too heavy to hold as if all the bottled-up emotions from throughout the years had been condensed into the ink on the page. You let it fall onto the bed with a small thud, letting yourself fall back into the pillows behind you. The image of the ceiling above your bed was now ingrained into your head, you’d spend a lot of time staring at it during the week.

A bitter chuckle made its way past your lips, the hoarseness in your voice causing you to wince. When was the last time you had uttered a word? You had no idea. What you did know was that you were quite possibly driving yourself mad by repeating the same vicious cycle of self-pity, helplessness, and isolation. Your period of sadness had ended, now transitioning into one of anger and feelings of betrayal.

Oh, how you wished you could take even an ounce of the pain you were feeling and pass it on to Bakugou. You could only imagine how good it would make you feel to see him miserable. However, as upset as you were with the blonde for putting you through such agonizing misery, you’d never wish such things upon him. You were not that kind of person and he was certainly the last person you’d mistreat. Though that didn’t stop you from coming up with a hundred and one petty thoughts.

Bakugou was always calling you a dumbass but maybe he was the stupid one all along. Couldn’t he see how deeply in love with him you were? Wasn’t it painfully obvious to him just how well you’d treat him? Did he not realize how fortunate he was to have you stick by his side after all these years despite your broken heart? Perhaps he’d only realize how good he truly had it with you until you finally decided to up and leave. Maybe once you were out of his life for good then would he understand just how badly he’d fucked up.

You should’ve known that you were only leading yourself on, convinced that if you tried hard enough then you could get him to fall in love with you. Your naïveté was almost humorous. Oh, how foolish you were for believing that there was any chance at all that Bakugou felt the same way. Love was nothing but a losing game. You didn’t understand it back when you were a kid, but now the message had never been clearer.

Deciding to take a step towards a more positive mindset, you got out of bed and slipped on the first pair of shoes you spotted. It was with a heavy sigh that you picked up the picture frame once again to return it to its rightful place above the chimney. The weather outside seemed cheery enough to lift your spirits, so you opted to go for a walk at the nearby park. Making your way to the front door, you grabbed the handle and tugged on it only to find out that standing on the other side of it was the last person you wanted to see.

Your stupid idiot of a best friend.

masterlist // taglist open // requests open

@combat-wombatus @sunflowersuki

#bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugou imagine #bakugo fluff #bakugo angst #bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou angst #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo angst #my writings

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night-faye · 3 years

Note

Hunted and Merlin👀👀👀? For Angst for April?

SO! It’s not explicitly angsty, but it certainly has some undertones of it! I apologize if it isn’t exactly what you were looking for, but if it’s any consolation, I am seriously thinking about continuing this!

An arrow whizzed by his ear, and Arthur turned fast, eyes widening as he searched the tree line, his heart pounding in his chest as his fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword, leather wrappings digging into the skin of his palm.

He swallowed, and turned back to the arrow, lodged impossibly deep into the trunk of a tree. Leon was inspecting it carefully, lining his sword with the shaft and attempting to figure out the trajectory.

Arthur turned, then, to Elyan and Percival, both adjusting nervously. They were good knights, no matter what his father said about him choosing to bestow noble titles onto commoners.

Elyan was, after all, just as educated as any other noble, and was the son of the royal blacksmith besides, there was nothing to say he couldn’t bestow a title onto him.

And Percival had saved his life, once. It had seemed only right to keep him close, since the large man had no objections to it.

So, as much as Uther complained, there was no way he could actually rip them of their titles without outcry from the counselors. For Uther was the first of his line to reign, so all the knights that had fought at his side had once been nothing but commoners or outsiders under the last king. There was not yet a strong line of nobility to lean back on. Arthur had every right to add his own trusted names to such a list.

Another arrow whizzed, and this one sliced across his cheek, behind a small, torn open scratch, before lodging into the slightly damp dirt of the trail with a thump.

“Sire!” Leon called. Arthur blinked, and lifted his fingers to the wound as he stared at the arrow, before drawing them back and looking at them.

The wound was barely even bleeding, his fingers only slightly streaked with blood. That was not a miss, and Arthur was beginning to think neither was the first one.

“These are warning shots,” he said, looking up at his three knights. “Warning shots from an incredibly skilled marksman.”

“What are they warning us about?” Elyan asked, adjusting his grip on his sword, and falling into a defensive stance, eyes flicking across the tree lines.

There was a massive roar, and it rumbled through the air, shaking the ground. The trees around them swayed dangerously, a few trunks cracking slightly.

“That,” a new voice said, and Arthur snapped his head up, coming face to face with a man who had to be younger than him, with black hair and ocean-blue eyes. He was standing on a thick, sturdy branch, and his dark blue cloak was flowing behind him and swaying slightly in the breeze, the hood halfway pulled over his head.

It didn’t hide the glint of a circlet made of silver leaves that bore a blue, teardrop gemstone in the middle of his forehead, hung slightly below the circlet by a chain.

Two cloaks, one a blue slightly lighter than the blue-eyed one’s, the other a foresty green that blended in with the leaves, dangled on either side of him. Whoever they were, sitting on the branch above him, they were both well hidden by the foliage. The only other visible thing was their dark, hard eyes, shadowed by the hoods of their cloaks.

The one he could see, standing on the lower branch, crouched down. He was holding a delicately carved bow, the wood engraved with swirling gold, and it now hung loosely from his fingertips, the quiver strapped to his back shifting slightly with his movements. He looked, mostly, annoyed.

“Kilgharrah doesn’t like strangers in his part of the woods. Especially strangers from Camelot.” he said, practically spitting the name of Arthur’s kingdom.

“Who is Kilgharrah? And why does he hate Camelot so much?” he asked.

The stranger tilted his head, and the sun streaming in between the leaves caught his eyes, and Arthur could’ve sworn there was a glimmer of gold running through the blue of them.

“Because the king of that land, Uther Pendragon, had him imprisoned for fifteen years.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“For existing,” the stranger said, shrugging.

Arthur frowned. That didn’t really… Well, it did sound like his father, but surely he would have heard of a prisoner like that.

“Surely it isn’t as simple as that,” Leon spoke up. Arthur looked over to him, slightly startled. He hadn’t realized the knight had made his way over to Arthur’s side. “Surely this Kilgharrah must have done something beyond just existing?”

“He didn’t. He was a friend of my father’s, and Uther used my father to lure him into a trap, before turning on him, and chasing him from his home.”

“There has to be more to it,” Leon insisted. The stranger looked past them for a moment, and his face furrowed as if he were having an argument, before he rolled his eyes and looked back to Leon.

“Like I said. Kilgharrah never caused anyone harm. But Uther saw fit to eradicate magic from Albion. And that included Kilgharrah and his kind. He is the last of the dragons, and Uther kept him alive, as a trophy, under the castle of Camelot.”

Arthur’s gut twisted, but Leon spoke before he could.

“Dragons are dangerous creatures without reason!! How could you claim he’s never done any harm!?”

The stranger’s calm face fell, at that, and rage flashed across his features like a thunderclap. “Because he had a chance to demolish your beloved kingdom when I freed him, and perhaps I should’ve let him, but he listened to me even without my father’s powers, and he left it alone to live peacefully within these forests. Tell me, first knight, does that sound like a dangerous creature without reason?”

Leon opened his mouth, but didn’t say anymore. The stranger had a point.

The stranger had several points. Arthur has thought, for a long time now, that surely not everyone who possessed magic could be evil, and yet his father hunted them down indiscriminately, simply for existing.

And it sounded to him like that was what happened to this man’s father.

“You know who Leon is, then?”

“I do,” the stranger said, nodding. The calm returned to his face as he turned to look at Arthur. “As I know who you are, Prince Arthur.”

“Who are you?” Arthur asked, taking a step forward, and craning his head. The stranger smiled at that, a soft thing, his eyes crinkling with laughter not yet released.

“You wouldn’t know me.”

“Perhaps I should,” Arthur said, tilting his head. “I will be king one day, and there are several things I plan to do differently to how my father has done things. Perhaps I can learn something from you.”

There was a short burst of laughter coming from higher up, and the edges of the cape to the strangers left was shaking, slightly.

“Now that’s a good one!” A new voice crowed, lined with laughter. The stranger looked up at the person, frowning slightly.

“Now, Gwaine, perhaps he’s being earnest.”

“He’s a prince, Merls,” The voice, Gwaine, apparently, said. “What’s to say this isn’t a trick to lure you down there, so he can slice you down like his father has been trying to for the past eight years?”

“Gwaine,” another voice piped up, coming from the right of the stranger, ‘Merls’ sounded like a nickname, but Arthur wasn’t sure what it was deriving from. “He’s knighted two commoners, already. Maybe he really is different?”

“Excuse me,” Elyan called, he and Percival having joined the small group under the tree with the three strangers. “But, does that mean Uther knows of you?”

The stranger looked down, and smiled at Elyan, something sparkling in his eyes. “He does, Sir Elyan, brother of Gwen.”

Elyan’s eyes widened, slightly. “You know my sister?”

The stranger’s smile widened, and he nodded. “I do, she’s very sweet. You should do more things to help her, though.”

Elyan blushed at that, a little embarrassed, and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Right, I will.”

“Elyan!” Leon crowed, and Elyan turned to look at Leon, lifting a brow.

“What? Mystery woodsy archer knows my sister, can convince a dragon of anything, and tells me to help her out more? What am I going to do? Not listen?”

There was another burst of laughter, though this one came from the stranger’s right side, the one who had chastised ‘Gwaine’, and suddenly the owner of it dropped down to the branch that the stranger was on, dark eyes bright, and short brown hair shifting slightly from his movement. “Wise words. Merlin’s very protective of his friends, after all.”

‘Ah, so his name is Merlin,’ Arthur thought, tilting his head as he looked back to him. ‘It fits.’

“My father has been hunting you for eight years?” Arthur asked, trying to get the conversation back to something a bit more sensible. Merlin tilted his head back to Arthur.

“Yes, he has.”

“Why?”

Merlin shrugged, easy acceptance. “Because I exist. Because he sees me as a threat.”

Arthur furrowed his brows, he was doing that a lot, actually. “Because you can control the dragon? Shouldn’t he try and make you an ally?”

The one that the as-yet unnamed stranger and Merlin called Gwaine dropped down, long, dark hair shifting and sweeping around his face, something shadowy in his brown eyes, creasing the laughter-lines at the corners of his eyes into something different. “Do you actually know your father at all? Or are you just that naïve?”

He was… Well, he was right. Arthur pressed his lips together. “I try to imagine he doesn’t let his bias against magic cloud his tactical judgment. It’s not the easiest thing to do, given the surplus of evidence to the contrary.”

Gwaine tossed his head back with a bark of laughter. “Alright, so you’re at least funny.” He tilted his head to face Merlin, “Maybe there’s something to your theory of his earnesty.”

Merlin smiled, and if Arthur knew him better, he might say it was smug.

The yet-unnamed one dropped down to the forest floor, straightening up and grinning. “So, you want advice on how to rule better than your father?”

Arthur swallowed, and nodded. “I do. It’s why I came out here. I have a friend, someone I consider a sister, I want to make the kingdom safe for her and people like her. She told me to seek someone named ‘Emrys’, said he could be found somewhere around these parts, and that he could help me.”

The unnamed-one, and Arthur was very close to just asking for it already, nodded, before looking up to Merlin and Gwaine. “Well, did’ja hear that, Gwaine?”

Gwaine pursed his lips, and glared down at the unnamed one. “Oh, shut up, Lancelot,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Merlin, however, finally dropped down. “Well, apparently, I was wrong. You do know of me.”

Arthur blinked, and furrowed his eyebrows. “I… Is ‘Merlin’ not your name?”

Merli- Emry- Whatever his name was, tossed his head back, laughter spilling from his lips.

“It is,” He said, before he shrugged. “But Emrys is another name for me. I don’t often answer to it, though.”

“You always get such a look when the druids refuse to call you Merlin,” Lancelot, and Arthur silently thanked god that he finally had a name for the man, pointed out, a chuckle lining his words.

“It’s the name my mother gave me, I’m not going to just toss it away for some name linked to the destiny that’s been getting me hunted down since my birth.”

“That sounds fair, Merlin,” Arthur said, and the smile that Merlin gave him at that made him feel inexplicable warm.

“Well, then. I suppose we should get to talking, M’lord,” he said, bowing slightly. Though the look in his eyes, and the quirk of his lips, told Arthur that it was less meant as a proper address, and much more of a joke than it sounded.

He’d take it.

“I suppose we should.”

Gwaine dropped down, and that’s when Arthur noticed a sword sheath, with a sword in it, strapped to his side. On second inspection, Lancelot had one as well. He wondered if they were as skilled with them as Merlin was with his bow.

And, well, with the way they were both standing, at ease but ready to shift into battle stances, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if they were.

“So,” he said, straightening slightly, though it still didn’t bring him to Merlin’s height. “When are we going to start?”

Posted on AO3 - Here

Prompt list - Here

#BBC Merlin #Merlin #Arthur Pendragon #Lancelot #Leon #Gwaine #Faye's AUs: Forest Prince #Angst for April #Faye Writes

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mihidecet · 4 years

Text

SBI d&d AU: Wilbur

So ... Here it is! I haven't published anything of mine here for a long time, and especially no fanfictions, so I really do hope you like this!

A special thank you to @whatimevendoinhere without whom this AU would have never existed!! They've been drawing references, expressions and a lovely campfire scene for this au, go check them out!!!

One doesn't get far being an adventurer without being a light sleeper, especially when you're travelling alone.

For Wilbur, it is a blessing and a curse. It means he's able to survive multiple attempts on his life - he's not to blame for all of them, it's just that sometimes he writes songs about people, and sometimes he improvises, and sometimes he sings before he thinks.

It also means, unfortunately for him, that it takes him a while to get used to travelling with other people. He loves everything about it, from the security to the companionship, but he can't for the life of him get a good night of uninterrupted sleep: whether it's Phil stoking the dying embers of their campfire, or Techno cleaning his throwing knives ... Heavens above, even Tommy mumbling to himself as he mends his own cape after getting almost-stabbed for the fourth time this week keeps him awake until exhaustion takes over.

But this night, it's not the gentle humming of an elven song, or the rhythmic *schling* of a whetstone on a sword, that wakes him up: everything's quiet, then he feels something fly in the air next to him and land with a dull thud in the ground.

Will's eyes are immediately open, hand flying to the small knife he keeps under his own pillow - just to be sure, just to be extra safe - and he rolls to the side.

He thanks his darkvision, because it's still the middle of the night: right next to where his head was there's a knife, stuck in the ground and glinting in the moonlight.

Wilbur's mouth opens to alert the others, but his call dies in his throat as he notices a lone figure sitting against the tree.

Somebody just threw a knife at his head, and Technoblade, notorious thief, assassin and all around badass adventurer, is just ... sitting there. His eyes are open, Wilbur can see it clearly, and he stares at him for a moment before turning his head towards the rest of the group. He seems to be fiddling with something - for now, Wilbur only knows that Techno likes keeping his hands busy, and is apparently unable to keep still; give or take a couple of months of travelling together, he'll have learnt that Techno fidgets when he's nervous, and he's always nervous around new people.

Techno turns back around, and gives a meaningful look to the knife still stuck in the ground.

Wilbur sighs. He's awake now, thanks to the adrenaline of an expected attack, so he grabs the knife and wrenches it out, meaning to throw it back to the noisy assassin that decided to wake him up in the middle of the night for ... apparently no reason?

But that night there's a gentle breeze blowing, so the moment the knife leaves the ground, whatever it was keeping in place starts flying away - it's only thanks to Wilbur's excellent reflexes that he manages to grab it.

For a moment, he thinks he's dreaming. Mostly because he wishes he was, but also because he's currently holding one of Technoblade's throwing knives in one hand, and a bracelet in the other.

He blinks.

The bracelet is still there.

He looks up, and manages to catch Techno quickly turning his head away from him, as if he hadn't been staring at him the whole time.

Wilbur *really* wants to sleep.

The bracelet in his hand is hand made. Not because it's badly made, but because there are daisies woven between the yarn and cotton strings, and if he turns his head to the left he can see a path of those same light blue daisies - now slightly smaller than before.

Now, Wilbur is not unused to having small trinkets. He has a bad habit of stealing small things to remind himself of where he's been, where he's played, things he's done. But this is definitely unusual.

What is this supposed to mean? Is it to thank him for saving his ass earlier that morning, when Techno got too cocky and got himself shot so Wilbur had to jump from his vantage point to bring him back to life? Or is it because the bard had said he needed something to remind himself of their win against the drake that had been plaguing the surrounding forest?

Wilbur is too tired to think about it.

"Cheers, Techno. Thanks." He says, voice slurring just a bit as he gives the thief a two fingered salute. Techno nods back silently, and Wilbur lets himself fall back onto his bed - being careful not to stab his pillow with his horns - and tries to fall asleep again.

Wait.

Wilbur's eyes open suddenly as his brain rather kindly decides to bring forth a memory of his first meeting with Techno.

Back when it was just him and Phil, walking from town to town, looking for easy coin. They had been looking for a tavern in the middle of the night, because Phil had said he'd never had pumpkin pie, and the kind lady who had been hosting them - as a thank you for getting rid of the ghost hunting her scarecrows - had insisted they wait until she finished cooking and have a slice.

It had been worth it after all, as they'd walked with an extra spring in their step with a stomach full of homemade pie and fresh milk, and travelling at night was not that big of a problem for an elf and a tiefling.

Still, Wilbur should have known not to get too relaxed, because as they turned the corner into a ghostly empty alley, they had found themselves no longer alone. A lone figure stood, partly hidden by shadows, but there was no way to mistake their identity.

"Hey there, friend!" Phil had exclaimed, tone amicable despite the evident tension in his posture - Wil could clearly see his knuckles turning white from his grip around his staff, and he hoped the assassin in front of them couldn't.

"Your Majesty." The infamous Technoblade had answered, with a slight head tilt that Wilbur had assumed was to be interpreted as a bow. Then, he'd turned his piercing light blue eyes towards him.

"Mr. Soot. I hear you're looking for companions. I'm looking for ... Colleagues. I have a job to do, and it requires more than one person." Wilbur's tail had swung wildly for a moment, both in excitement and indignation. On one hand, this was *the* Technoblade, infamous assassin, notorious thief, wanted in most reigns, the only being able to easily succeed at what most people would never dream of being able to do.

On the other hand, there were surely less fear inducing ways of asking for help, right? Couldn't he have met them at the tavern, in the morning? Possibly surrounded by other people, where they could feel safe rejecting his offer, instead of fearing a knife in the back the moment they turned?

"What kind of job?" The bard had asked, steadying his voice despite how the thief's stare had seemingly locked him into place.

"A good one. Mostly a well paying one." He'd replied shrugging, seemingly uncaring of how tense the air around them was as he spinned a throwing knife in his hand. Wilbur dared shooting a look to his right, where Phil was now standing a tad more relaxed, and raised an eyebrow. This could be their big breakthrough, a chance to make a good name for themselves - they'd kept mostly to themselves for almost half a year now, doing odd jobs here and there, slowly making their way across the region ... How would it feel to sleep in a decent tavern for one night? What if they could finally afford a horse? Heavens above, did Wilbur wish he could buy a new pair of boots.

"We're in. We can talk in the morning to go over the details?" Phil had asked, sounding as tired and hopeful as Wilbur felt. The bard guessed that, as a king travelling for the first time in his life under false pretences, Phil was the one between the two of them who was less used to sleeping on the floor and eating "whatever".

As the blade was thrown in the air, there was a sudden flash of pink light and then it was gone, vanished in the darkness.

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow." And then he'd disappeared too, hopefully not hearing Wilbur's scoffed "showoff" and Phil's chuckles.

The next morning, slightly more rested, they were in the middle of greatly missing the previous day's pumpkin pie over their meagre portions of stale bread and warm mead, when the whole tavern went impossibly quiet. There was a beat of silence as every head turned towards the newcomer, then Phil leaned back with one arm stretched out and waved.

"Techno, mate! Come join us!" The thief's ears twitched in their direction, then he immediately started walking towards them - pace steady and sure, despite how everyone was staring at him.

In the bright light of the middle of the morning, surrounded by other adventurers and staring down in disgust at their breakfast, the infamous Technoblade looked a lot less intimidating, if one was able to look past the entire armoury he carried with him. If he hadn't been an actual, literal hellspawn, Wilbur would have been put off by the bright pink skin and pig-like features of his face, but the bard himself had horns, blue skin and a tail, so he couldn't really judge anyone based on looks.

Technoblade looked like he was about to say something about their breakfast, but Phil evidently dissuaded him by stuffing his face with what remained of his loaf of bread - which was a chunk about as big as his fist, and even the thief looked slightly impressed.

Wilbur took a deliberately slow sip of his mead as Phil munched away, eyeing the rest of the tavern as if to dare them to keep staring at the three of them.

By the time he was putting down his drink, the bloody knife from the night before was back, this time being balanced on the tip of Techno's finger as he stared at it with a bored expression.

Wilbur placed his tankard on the table and the thief's eyes met his for just a moment before going back to looking bored with his balancing act - which Phil was rather enjoying, from what Will could see from the corner of his eye. Then, just as suddenly as the night before, Techno's eyes switched from light blue to a shining pink and his blade disappeared.

"So ... What's your opinion on friendship bracelets?"

Wilbur had reared back and immediately choked on nothing, while the utter bastard on his right burst out laughing.

"What?! What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!" Wilbur had demanded, still breathless, after Phil had half-heartedly patted his back.

Techno had shrugged, seemingly awkward, Phil had laughed more before steering the conversation towards the topic of their job. Wilbur had thought it weird, a quirk of a lone wolf that was so unused to companionship that they would just say whatever came to their mind, but he'd always been able to switch his focus to business rather fast.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Wilbur was currently biting his own finger in order to keep the hysterical laughter threatening to spill. Eyes almost tearing up, shoulder shaking - had the thief been serious from the beginning? Was this a joke, a callback? It couldn't be, it was too well made to be a joke! Not that Techno was known to do anything half-assedly ... A muffled giggle escaped him, and Wilbur quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but apparently nothing flew past the infamous Technoblade.

"Shut up." His gruff voice had come suddenly, still from his position against the lone tree in the clearing they'd chosen to rest in.

Another giggle escaped him as he sat upright on his cot, his tail swishing on the ground excitedly - and probably filling his cot with dirt and leaves, but at the moment he couldn't care less. There was something, some warm, fuzzy feeling invading his chest, waking him up even better than the threat of an attack as he held the bracelet to his chest.

"Aw, Techno! But I thought we were best friends!" Wilbur protested in a fake offended tone, the warm feeling spreading as he heard the thief scoff and then chuckle lightly, shaking his head.

"We are, it's final, you're not getting out of this." Techno replies, waving his knife towards him in a way that would have been menacing if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing Wilbur's ever heard - for now, because this is just a step into their friendship; Techno has a way of being devastatingly earnest about his feelings in the best and most unexpected ways, and Wilbur doesn't know really know what he's in for yet.

Instead, Wilbur just clutches the bracelet to his chest and chuckles, thankful he's not choking on his emotions yet - he already knows he'll be writing a song about this, can feel the energy of it under his fingertips.

"You neither, man. I'm counting on it, you big nerd."

Techno scoffs, waves him away.

"Do I get to keep the knife, too?" Wilbur asks, because he's never been able to shut up, and there's no way he's going to sleep after all this.

"Sure, whatever. I have more."

"Thank you, best friend!"

Turns out Wilbur can actually fall asleep after all that, because the last thing he remembers before falling asleep is Techno's annoyed groan and the smell of daisies.

----

I do hope you liked it! If there are any mistakes let me know, English is not my first language ajdhwokl

Also if you want to come and ramble about this to us ,,,,,, you are all deffo welcome!!

#wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza #ph1lza #sleepy boys inc #sbi au #dnd au #my writing

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solomonish · 4 years

Text

From the Mouths of Fools

Belphegor has a habit of forcing his brothers into trouble, mostly with you. There’s nothing more satisfying than the look of horror on their face when they think they must have dashed their chances with you and that they’re digging the hole deeper. Each time, you reach out a hand and ease their worries, and Belphegor’s stomach twists as you tell them with kind eyes not to worry, that they’re very sweet. Why did you have to be such a spoilsport?

(also posted on ao3 @ treetunkdaddy)

Poems: A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns, I Carry Your Heart With Me by E. E. Cummings, I Love You by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda

Leviathan: I love you. Leviathan: I love you more than anyone else in this world. You: Thanks! Leviathan: Happy now? Leviathan: As I thought, this was the right thing to say.

You stared at your phone screen for a moment longer with one eyebrow raised. Something here wasn’t right. Though you weren’t some grand detective, you could tell that the texts didn’t sound like Levi at all Even beyond the sudden boldness, if you pictured Levi texting those messages you could only imagine him with a rain cloud over his head as he hunched over his phone in sorrow. The somber tone didn’t match his usual excitement. Maybe he was trying to get into character for some sort of cosplay…? Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried to figure out if he had mentioned getting into character for something. Still, there was no way he wouldn’t know all the lines of a character he was trying to embody, and it seemed far-fetched that he’d choose something so...overt, let alone practice it with you.

Before you could distract yourself too much from the tasks you were supposed to be working on, a solid oof a few feet away from your door caught your attention. You could just barely hear a half-hearted grumble barely covering the low boyish giggles of a scheming Belphegor as Levi freaked out in a jumble of words that sounded more like a keysmash than an argument. A moment later, you got another slew of texts that seemed much more like the demon you knew.

Leviathan: AAAEWAGVNAFBPEABD Leviathan: WAAAAAIT! Leviathan: I take that back! Leviathan: AARGH, no, that’s not what I meant! Leviathan: I left my D.D.D. on the couch and Belphie ran off with it!

Ah. That made sense. It also explained the nervous energy you could practically feel radiating from where the two demons undoubtedly still lay in a heap. With a devious look on your face, you tapped away at your phone.

You: I took a screenshot of it!

You were right about one of them being outside your door. You could hear Levi’s startled yelp, followed shortly by frantic footsteps running down the hall to his door. The three dots danced on your screen as the sound got quieter, the message reaching you just as the door to Levi’s room slammed shut.

Leviathan: No, you can’t! Delete that ASAP! DELETEIIIITTTTT!

Snickering to yourself, you hefted yourself out of your seat and opened your door to peer out into the hallway. A little ways to your left, Belphie lay sprawled out on the carpet with a half-dazed expression on his face. Taking care to keep your footsteps quiet in case he actually was asleep, you bent over his face to look at his half-lidded eyes. After a moment of shifting into focus, Belphie gave you a lazy smile and patted the floor next to him.

“You should join me,” He offered. “The carpet is surprisingly soft.”

“Yeah, and surprisingly dirty,” You added, gently toeing at his shoulder as if that would spur him to move.

“If you stare at the pattern on the ceiling and let your eyes get unfocused, it’s real easy to fall asleep,” He suggested. You turned your head to look at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a boring, dark texture above you. If you squinted, you could almost make out swirls in the paint. Maybe demons had a better time seeing details in the dark.

Beneath you, Belphie hummed contentedly, folding his hands at his stomach. He almost looked like he was sunbathing in a meadow, surrounded by fragrant flowers - the image made your heart jump the slightest bit. Maybe, if that was the case, you would have joined him. Lying next to him as a gentle breeze danced over your skin and the tall grass kissed your skin...that didn’t seem like a bad way to spend an afternoon.

“Hey,” Belphie asked suddenly, holding you in a serious stare. It was one he didn’t bother to give you often, saving it only for when you trespassed him so greatly he needed to make it known (more often than not when he told you how lame Lucifer was if you mentioned how he’s helped you with some administrative details for the exchange program). “What did you feel when Levi sent you that message?”

“What?” You asked, shaken by the jarring change in his voice. He sounded much more stern, and though it was hard to tell while looking at him upside down, you were pretty sure he was holding you in a glare, albeit a very gentle one.

“Did it make you happy?” He asked. “That he might love you?”

Your face flushed at the personal question and you averted your gaze, missing the way Belphie’s gaze hardened at your reaction. “I-I knew they weren’t from Levi,” You answered, shaking your head and looking back at Belphie. “They sounded way too suave for him. I thought maybe he was playing a character, or something. I didn’t think they meant anything.”

“You thought they didn’t mean anything…” Nodding, Belphie’s mouth twisted in thought as he looked just past your shoulder blankly. Suddenly his arms shot up and he grabbed at the air a few times, shutting off any gateway to questions you might have. “Help me up. I wanna nap somewhere softer than this where I won’t get trampled.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned the idea of leaving him there around once before shifting to his side and pulling him up. He took the chance to stumble into you, jamming his chin into your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck. Instead of feeling his breath tickle your skin, however, you felt his hair brush against you as he adjusted, eventually stopping once he was satisfied. You realized for a moment he was listening for your pulse, and your breathing shallowed on instinct, as if you wanted him to hear it. He didn’t tell you what he was listening for, only groaning when you started to ask him to let go so you could resume your day.

“Mmmm….maybe I should nap here? So comfy….” He murmured. Though he made no move to let go, he also didn’t fight you when you finally separated him from your body. Giving him a farewell smile, you turned your back to leave, not seeing his face fall in displeasure.

---

A few days later, there was a book on your bed that you were positive wasn’t there when you left that morning.

Dropping your backpack unceremoniously by your door, you peered at the worn cover to see it was an old collection of romantic poems. There was no suspicious Latin on the cover, now jewels (or missing jewels) to indicate it was a spellbook or otherwise enchanted, so you picked it up. Upon closer inspection, you saw it was a collection of human poems, many of which you read in your early school days. There were a few multicolored tabs stuck in it, no apparent rhyme or reason to their placement. Though it looked to be Satan’s book, you couldn’t imagine him risking getting adhesive on the worn pages. Curious, you flipped to the first marked page and scanned it, face flushing almost immediately.

O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune.

Flipping to the next marked page, your face turned an even deeper red as they scanned the page.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

Each page you turned to gave you smooth velvet words that someone very clearly wanted to direct at you, each getting more intimate than the last. Every poem you read sent more blush to your face until you were positive another word would have you passing out.

I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my face.

Honeyed words of Shakespeare and Dickinson forced your heart to pump faster in your chest than you ever thought possible. Though your body really did feel like it might collapse under the affection the poems held, you couldn’t stop yourself from flipping through. Even though it was clear these poems weren’t written for you, the slightest implication that someone could think so highly of you had your head spinning. Before long, you were skimming the last marked page, barely able to catch your breath.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

A loud roar of Belphegor’s name shook you out of your love-stricken trance. Slamming the book shut as if you’d been caught doing something wrong, you listened to the hasty, angry footsteps of Satan right outside your door. The closer he got, you could hear his heavy breathing as he fought to contain his anger. “Where is that book? I know you were the last person in my room!”

Though the thought of being on the receiving end of Satan’s anger was enough to send you running, you slowly cracked open your door and peered out. Satan immediately whipped his head around to look at you, softening just a bit in an effort to let you know that you weren’t what he was after.

In a timid voice, you asked, “Which book would you happen to be looking for?”

“It was a collection of poems. You wouldn’t have happened to see it, would you?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door all the way and held the book out to him. Snatching it out of your hands, Satan widened his eyes at the tabs. “Did you-”

“It was like that!” You defended. Satan realized you were jumpy and slowly inhaled, willing himself to calm down before you continued. “It was on my bed when I came home.”

With a gruff hum, Satan nodded at your explanation before flipping through the marked pages. “It’s alright, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. I’m positive Belphie was the one who took it since he was-”

Stopping mid-sentence, Satan flushed a deep red once he read which poems were marked to be read. “O-oh,” He murmured, pulling at his sweater collar and clearing his throat. “This is...these are pretty romantic, huh?”

“Well, it is a love poem collection,” You offered helpfully with a shrug. As if he didn’t believe you, Satan looked at the cover himself.

“I hope you didn’t mistake my intent. I didn’t mean for this book to end up in your care.”

“Ouch,” You hissed through your teeth. “Aren’t you a heartbreaker?”

Satan’s eyes widened before he furrowed his brows and backed a few steps away. “No, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that.” Heaving a sigh, he placed a hand on his chest and shut his eyes as he scowled. “Thank you for returning it to me. Have a good day.”

Satan turned on his heel and walked briskly away, leaving you to chuckle at the empty space before retreating back to your room. On your bed, beneath where the book was, lay a green sticky note you had missed in the excitement. Picking it up, you saw a note scrawled in messy handwriting that made you question just how genuine these advances were.

I’m not the best at expressing myself with words. Maybe if I borrow the words of others, you can finally know how I feel.

---

The pattern continued for a few days, with each brother falling victim to one of Belphie’s tricks. Each time, they managed to fluster themselves to impossible standards, aside from Asmo who insisted he never sent you that love letter and don’t you know how beautiful his handwriting is like the rest of him? Oh, but if a love letter was what you were after, he’d send mountains and mountains until you just couldn’t resist him anymore-

By that time, you had gently shut the door in his face and jogged back to your room, just as red as the rest of the brothers were when it was their time to be the victim. Belphegor even managed to send you an email with a fake account with a name so similar to Lucifer’s you almost didn’t catch the differences. By that time, you saw through his jokes and simply asked:

You: Really? An email? [email protected]: What? He’s such a loser that I wouldn’t put it past him.

Even now, over a week since the last incident, Mammon was shouting in the hall as he kept running circles around himself, demanding Belphie to stop making advances on his human and to stop making him look like a fool. Without fail, Belphie always asked, “Oh? Is it foolish to think highly of the human?” Mammon was sent into a new frenzy every time.

By the time they were finished, you were exhausted just from listening to their incessant bickering. Mammon had scurried off, desperate to hide his embarrassment, while Belphie slumped down on the couch next to you and gave you a lazy grin. This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to return it. The antics had to stop.

“I think you should stop using me as a tool to mess with your brothers,” You said, not yet unpausing the show you were watching before the fighting started. Belphie scrunched his face and looked at you without moving his head.

“No can do. It’s too fun to see how desperately they try to save your honor from themselves. Idiots.”

Cringing at the insult, you continued, “Okay, but can you stop with the love advances? It’s a bit...much.”

Finally moving, Belphie turned his head to give you a scrutinizing look you didn’t understand before relaxing back into the couch. “Sure,” He answered humorlessly, tone dry and brittle with what was, to you, misplaced disgust. “It was losing its charm anyway.”

Now he was sulking, and you had half a mind to press play and just ignore his bitter mood. Still, you didn’t mean to make him pout, even if you had no idea where it came from and therefore weren’t exactly responsible for the shift. Sighing, you turned your back on him and leaned back, moving so your head was resting on his slumped chest. Without sparing you a look, Belphie reached his slim finger up and slowly carded them through your hair, making no effort to comb any tangles and deciding to ruffle it instead.

“I would like to know what’s got you in such a sour mood,” You said bluntly, turning your head to watch Belphegor stare at the ceiling blankly. Other than the occasional slow blink, you would have thought he had fallen asleep with how long it took him to respond. You knew better than to think he was ignoring you - he was either thinking of an answer he was satisfied to give or teasing you, seeing how long you’d wait for him and then pointing out how much you must value what he has to say if you’d wait that long.

“You enjoyed it too much,” He finally said, keeping his gaze from yours.

“I enjoyed it?” You repeated, narrowing your eyes. “I can assure you, I enjoyed none of what happened.”

“The fighting, maybe,” He agreed. “But I heard you tell Levi you thought it’d be sweet if he had texted you. I saw your face when you thought the poems were from Satan.”

“You were there?” Trying to remember the scene with Satan, you ran a hand partially through your hair and rested your palm on your forehead.

“The love letter, the gift basket, everything- you enjoyed it before you realized it was fake.”

“Belphegor, where were you?” You asked, knowing he would ignore your question. How many other times had he been secretly watching you without your knowledge? The thought made you shiver.

Clearly disgruntled, Belphegor growled at your questions before rolling his eyes. “At first I was just messing with you, but I never would have guessed you would sooner take sweet nothings from the mouths of fools before you’d ever take the real deal from me when I offer it out to you.”

Blinking rapidly, you felt your face warm and your heartbeat stutter for the thousandth time this week. “You...you never offered me anything,” you answered dumbly. Displeasure flickered across Belphie’s face before he sighed again and slumped further down, forcing your head down with him.

“Of course I didn’t. The others did, but not me,” He replied in such a way that barely hid the frustration in his tone, but the irony he was lamenting was lost on you. Sitting up, you shifted to sit on your knees and bent over Belphie to look at him.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Belphie turned his head away, but you grabbed his cheeks and gently pulled them towards you so he could face you directly. “Belphie, tell me what you were trying to do.”

For a moment, Belphie wondered if he could just slump out of your grasp and lock himself back in the attic, clear by the pondering expression he wore on his face. You squished his face a little tighter, just enough to keep him in place and speak up. “I guess...I was hoping you would think the love letters and everything were from them and you’d reject them.” He looked to the side to avoid the pity you couldn’t hide on your face, his gaze unintentionally hardening. “Why didn’t you reject them? You should have rejected them.”

“I knew it wasn’t real! I was just trying to make them feel better,” You defended. Swiping your hand away from him, Belphie lifted himself up so he was sitting straight and crossed his arms, the image of a petulant child. “Is this...is this your version of a confession?”

Though he did his best to maintain his glare, Belphie couldn’t fight the light pink that tinted his cheeks. “So what if it is?”

Thoroughly pleased with yourself, you sat back on your heels and pretended you needed to mull things over. His hair was covering his eye and he kept his head turned away from you, but you could feel Belphie’s pensive gaze on you as you made your decision. Grinning and leaning closer, you asked, “Is this another prank?”

You felt his cold hands on either side of your face before you even saw him move. He glowered at you with no heat, putting on an upset show. If anything, he was more upset that you insisted on teasing him when you were so nice to the others. “If you can look at me and say you think I’m pranking you right now, you really are just a stupid human.”

Your grin widened. “A stupid human you’d have no qualms about kissing, though, right?”

There was no need to answer you with words when showing you was much more enjoyable.

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