Ya ever just … lay in bed and … miss them??
Please - Dear Hearts - Shenanigate Again?
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cling to me
I know I said I was going to distance myself from this piece of media because of all of its terrible connections, but these two characters seem to have taken root in a permanent place in my heart, and I can't let them go.
Anyway, here's some character design notes below the cut for the one person out there who's obsessed with these characters as much as me.
Early DSMP: the era of childhood innocence
Bandanas: They sport each other’s bandana’s (they’re hidden in the design for every era). I love character designs with complementary colors (and I love how red and green are also cranboo’s colors)
Disks: Early on, cat and mellohi represent the peaceful moments ctommy shared with his favorite people, but they went on to be a symbol of victory and independence from the people who have hurt him.
Flowers: Ctubbo collects flowers and tries to memorize the meanings and symbolism tied to each type of flower. He also collects them for his bees.
L’manberg: the era where children became soldiers
Horns: Ctubbo’s horns start to grow in here.
Pogtopia: the era of an exile and a secretary of state / spy
You can tell I joined the fandom at the end of this era because I don’t have many notes here or for the l’manberg era.
Exile: the era of an exile once again and and a president too young
Hair: Ctommy’s hair starts to grow longer as he neglects taking care of himself.
Clothes: Ctommy’s clothes are tattered; one shoe is destroyed and he took to wearing cw-lbur’s (f-ck ccw-lbur btw!!) trench coat.
Bandages: Ctubbo’s wrapped in bandages from his recently earned firework burns. He’s gone blind in his right eye, and he’s missing the ring and pinkie finger on his right hand.
Compasses: They share their matching ‘your tommy’ and ‘your tubbo’ compasses
Hog Hunt: the era where one sought to kill the blood god while the other sought refuge there
Stolen goods: Ctommy’s has his antarctic empire outfit plus all the goods he stole from ctechno like the turtle helmet, golden apples, and the axe of peace.
Bedrock: Ctommy wears his counterpart piece matching techno’s from his ear.
Prosthetic: Ctommy’s right foot had to be amputated after he loses it to frostbite in the trek to cemeraldduo’s cabin. Ctechno gives him a simple prosthetic.
Disc Finale: the era of mended relationships and a final stand
Headband: Ctommy begins to wear a devil headband to fit in more, as he’s one of the few humans on the server. The devil horns were chosen to resemble ceryn’s real ones.
Patchwork: Ctommy learns to sew, and he fixes his tattered clothes from exile.
Post Revival:
Devil horns: Ctommy’s devil horns (plus a tail) become real after revival, and he gets a white streak in his hair.
Prime cross: The bad things that have happened to them both that they survived strengthen ctommy’s faith in prime, whereas they weaken ctubbo’s faith.
Sweater: Ctommy makes himself a sweater from friend’s wool.
Mechanical inventions: Ctubbo pursues his passion for engineering more as he makes mechanical bee drones and studies nuclear physics. He also makes himself prosthetic fingers, and he upgrades ctommy’s prosthetic foot.
Marriage ring: Ctubbo marries cranboo platonically and wears the ring on his horn. He also founds snowchester so he can have a place to protect his loved ones and raise his son. He grows out his hair to avoid eye contact for cranboo and to cover his scars.
Body type: Ctubbo gets chubbier and gains some muscle as he gets a bit happier in life.
Post DSMP:
The prison break and everything after it never happened. These are my OCs, and I make the rules because every actor/writer who played a part in their creation either abandoned them or turned out to be a terrible person. Cbenchtrio live happily ever after and begin their journey of healing while cdream rots in prison forever.
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Mr. Miller’s House
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)
word count: 7.6k
requested: yes
summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.”
warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really, this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao
notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it. as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE!
[this is a sequel to Mr Miller. part three other Joel fics: fever landmines ]
★
this was a mistake. you shouldn't have done this....this was a terrible idea.
fuck.
the chair is stiff beneath you. there's a hard coolness about it that is welcomed on the skin of your bare legs, the shorts you wear helpful in the heat of summer but futile against the slick of sweat that sheens your skin. the chair is hard, but yet still strong, sturdy.
you swallow dryly, heart beating fast. it's the same chair you sat at just a few weeks ago, signing the log with Joel leaning over your shoulder, before he-
you look away, around, anywhere in order to avoid the memories, hot and boiling and clawing at your mind and suffocating you until you stop breathing- and then your eyes settle, they glue themselves across the kitchen table.
they glue themselves to him.
fuck.
Joel's already staring at you; his lips are downturned in that permanent grimace he always sports, the muscles of his torso rigid with immobility - perhaps he thinks if he's still enough, the ground will just swallow him whole and he won't have to do this.
you yearn for that escape as much as he does.
then, out of the silence; "see, this isn't so bad."
speak for yourself, Ellie.
both heads in the room turn to the speaker slowly, the girl watching between the two of you, more than willing to ignore the obvious disdain in the air. she's grinning like a damn devil.
this girl's going to kill you.
it is that bad, contrary to Ellie's statement.
it'd been days of her begging you, with a tug on the hand, a punch to the shoulder, and countless pleads and threats until you finally caved in and accepted her proposal to have her and Joel over for dinner.
no matter how much you detest her guardian, you just can't resist those big puppy-dog eyes, or that gigantic, youthful smile.
for the last few months, Ellie has grown to be quite the little farmhand for you; though you like to keep to yourself on your days in the gardens, it was nice to have the girl buzzing around you and the other gardeners, pollinating each person she sees with questions like what really happens in germination and is this ripe? can I pull it?
it's cute, how excited she is to show Joel all of the crops you've grown with her in the last few months. but what isn't cute, is that it's him that has to be here. of all people, why did Joel have to be the one Ellie chose as her father?
because.... things weren't okay between you and Joel.
you're not sure if you were childish for expecting for him to warm up to you after - well, after the time he bent you on this table and fucked you stupid - but you hadn't been prepared for the coldest shoulder you've ever gotten in your measly life for the last few weeks.
it didn't help that the summer was kicking up and you needed more crops than ever for the commune; your patrolling had dwindled into maybe one or two every week or so, usually with Maria - so you didn't have to face Joel, really, at all.
but he avoided you like the plague when in town or on your street (though, he did that with everyone) and even at the Tipsy Bison, where your presence would clean him from the room before a drop of condensation could even slide down his glass of whiskey.
hell, maybe he even put a word in with Maria and Tommy that the last patrol together didn't go as planned; you'd even considered doing it at one point. you're not sure, but it just made you all the more irritated when you'd catch glimpses of their porch in the afternoons, Joel holding a guitar around Ellie's chest, chuckling as she strummed horribly. as if everything was okay. like you didn’t exist.
the anger and hatred grew awful.
it festered, grew when Maria mentioned off-handedly to Tommy that some woman, Dahlia, had taken a liking to Joel. you'd nearly shattered the glass you were holding in your fist at that; Joel, with Dahlia? that grumpy piece of shit, taking a liking to someone sweet and kind like her?
you ought to punch his fucking face.
you're zoned out when Ellie suddenly comes into your line of sight; reaching over your chest to grab a slice of the fresh bread you'd picked up earlier that day. you blink back into reality as Joel grunts, "E-Ellie, hey." he's shaking his head as he gestures to her arm, "use your manners."
he sounds almost embarrassed; annoyed. your mind betrays you as it whirls back; when Joel had you pinned down on this very table, commanding you in a different way, his eyes dark with delight as you cried and writhed for him.
but at his chastising, you send Ellie a sneaky look, rolling your eyes when Joel's looking down. the girl chuckles at that and an untrusting Joel stares daggers between the two of you. Ellie clears her throat with a smirk, "sorry. can you please pass me the bread?"
you grin, "why, yes, ma'am." you hand her the basket, "thank you for asking." you add to the girl on your right, your eyes on Joel's. he stares back harshly, hand grabbing for the glass of wine that sits in front of him.
another few moments of tension before Elie decided to take it upon herself to introduce as much of the food that sits on the table in front of you as she can remember.
peas, spinach, lentil and cabbage stew, beet salad, goat cheese and roasted carrots, cauliflower mash. fresh bread.
proteins from animals are scarce and are typically served in only the dining hall, so you decided to skip the meat and serve roasted artichoke instead. Joel doesn't look too thrilled about that as Ellie explains. you hide your scoff behind a sip of your dark wine.
"-and, look, I planted these beets." Ellie points to the bowl on the table which houses arugula and beet salad; you smirk down at the plate as Joel hums as if interested. his eyes flicker to yours from across the table as Ellie delves in on a tangent about how bloody beets look, those dark pupils flickering over your face before flitting back to the young girl. his eyes were swimming with something else, something.... seductive.
a shiver runs down your spine.
does he ever think about it?
you do. you think about it every night - how his hands felt, rough, unforgiving; the look on his face, that dark smirk when he'd made you beg for him to ruin you... the frenzy in his eyes when he'd ‘taught you some goddamn manners,’ when he'd taken you apart brutally and quick. Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.
your name calls you back to Ellie, whose eyes are wide and tracing over a rough, splintered notch in your table, "the hell is this from, is it-" her fingers jolt away at the rugged piece that slides into her skin, "shit!" she yelps, shaking her hand.
your brows furrow, rising to help her as Joel pulls her hand towards him.
"I have tweezers." you mutter, disappearing into your bathroom to pull out your tweezers, returning to see Ellie smiling in embarrassment and Joel sitting with his arms crossed, amused irritation lacing his face. his beard is growing in more recently - you can hear the noise of the short bristles scratching his hand as he rubs his knuckles over his jawline.
nodding, pleased that Ellie's discomfort has subsided, you set your tweezers on your right, spearing some salad on your fork as silence cradles you three yet again.
it’s only tense and silent for a moment. then Ellie speaks, and it’s just tense.
"why is there a notch like that in your table?" she finally wheezes, as if she'd been summoned to be silent until she couldn't handle her curiosity anymore.
you don't have to look up to know that a pair of dark eyes pin you to your chair, daring you to say something about it.
your throat dries as you swallow your mouthful of salad, coughing a bit.
a rip in your flannel, the grazing of your soft skin with the blade. a hand pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the thick slide of Joel as he drags his length through your destroyed, spent core.
"um- I-I" perhaps it's your panic, of the knowledge that his eyes are glued to you, but soon your eyes meet his; unwavering. "well. someone likes to threaten people when they can't find patrol logs."
"Joel!" Ellie hisses, smacking his arm, "you fucking stabbed her table and didn’t do anything about it?” she’s grinning.
"yeah, Joel," you smirk, swirling with desire as his hawkish gaze pins you to your chair, "you really should use your manners. you've ruined my table."
"shut the hell up right now." he snaps at you, hand slamming his fork down harshly onto the plate. you and Ellie both jump at the sternness in his voice.
you listen, for once.
and honestly, ten minutes ago feels like heaven compared to the tenseness of this silence.
several minutes go by, the sounds of scraping forks and knives and the meager attempts by you and Ellie to salvage a decent dinner conversation ringing soft in your kitchen.
at least you and her are trying.
you ignore the notch from the knife like a wildfire and pretend Joel isn't even with you; Ellie is more than enough life and laughter for you, and your playful disposition matches hers perfectly despite the joy-damper of a man sat across from you.
he's stewing. arms crossed, chewing on food here and then, mostly listening and sighing, brushing off Ellie's jabs or playful questions or stories. he won't do anything except eat and glare at you.
the wine bottle is nearly gone and you're not sure if it's his fault or yours. probably both.
you snap when he just outright ignores Ellie, shaking his head with a sigh and taking another bite. the audacity.
"-she asked you a question, Miller." you snap, fed up with his dissociative disposition. you don't even intend to say it; even Ellie looks up at your words, surprised.
his head turns to face you too slow to be safe. his eyes are fucking furious as he mutters, "excuse me?"
"hey, guys-" Ellie's hands are out in front of her, but you can't take your eyes off him.
"I'm just saying, you could at least try to pay attention." you spit, crossing your arms defensively, "we made this dinner, we're just trying to have a conversation, the least you could do-"
"you don't tell me what to do." he states, calm and cool, pointing at you. his nose flares as he breaths heavy, your own breath quickening. arousal rushes to your center and you shift on your seat.
"-listen, maybe this was a bad idea. I knew you weren't the best of friends, but this is-" Ellie starts again, eyes flickering between you both. "this is too awkward."
"no, Ellie, I'm sorry-" you start to say, breaking.
you don't want her to be caught in the cross-fire of your problems with Joel; it's unfair. the further this goes, the more she'll be put in a position of mediator, so you figure it should just end now.
"Ellie, go home."
Joel growls the demand, eyes looking to her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder. her eyes widen, as if asking him if he's serious.
"what?" she asks, "no! you'll-you’ll fucking stab each other or something."
yeah, you think. you might.
Joel's shaken off her shoulder but he's resilient, "go on, go see the kids for the movie. I'll come later. we just need to sort something out." he mutters, eyes falling to you at the tail end of his sentence.
shivers roll down your spine; fuck, fuck - a flood of arousal hits you again, and you swallow, willing the feelings to go the fuck away.
Ellie's scowling, but still has the decency to thank you for dinner before slamming the door hard on her way out of the threshold.
Joel's eyes stay locked with yours until her footsteps are gone.
it’s silent for a moment before he speaks.
"do not fuckin' disrespect me like that in front of her again." he snaps.
you narrow your eyes, "you're concerned that I- what, I undermined you in front of your girl?" you hiss incredulously. "come on, that's pathetic."
"I don't like you." he snaps, shoving his plate away from him in an almost childish act of defiance. it’s shocking, the immaturity of his words so sudden. barely prompted.
it's clear he intends to continue this little confessional of his, but you have no intention of allowing that.
you roll your eyes, "big fucking deal. what do you want me to say?" you hiss, "sorry that I was rude, Mr. Miller! let me just cook you fucking dinner and invite you over to make up for it."
his nostrils flare, "never wanted to do this in the first place." he mutters.
you nearly rip out your hair in frustration. "obviously you didn't! christ, why do you always act like everything you do is a goddamn chore?" you snap, "Ellie wanted to have a nice night and show you what we've been doing- what she's been doing for this community. and all you can do is sit here and act like a fucking asshole because you don't know how to enjoy anything. it's a miracle she's still around with you, when you treat her like that."
his jaw clicks in anger, "you have no fuckin' clue what we've been through together." his voice is close to a yell, "you don't know how much that girl means to me."
"then why won't you show her!?" you yell.
it quiets the room for a moment and a fleeting feeling of pride is squashed when he speaks again.
his brows raise, a look of realization creeping onto his face. he nods his head, "I see what this is," he lets out a bitter, mocking laugh. "you want me to tell you how much I love your food? y'trying to prove to me that you're not a bad influence on her, after all?"
you stare at him, anger clouding your sight; are there tears of frustration rimming your eyes? you hope he doesn't notice.
"-newsflash, darlin', I don't fucking care about you." he finishes, scowl dark. "you're a nuisance. don' know why Tommy took you in, anyways. you're a foul-mouthed, untrustworthy, pathetic little slut- and jus' because you can't stop thinking about my cock doesn't mean I owe anything to you. no dinner, no fuckin- cordial neighborly attitude, nothing."
thinking about- what?
oh, fuck him. your face burns; your jaw unhinges. of course he thinks this is about you and him. your eyes spare a quick, fleeting glance to the notch in the table before you glare, "well I don't fucking care about you either, Miller. don't be so fucking conceited."
he laughs, shaking his head as he downs the remainder of his wine before slamming the glass down, but you're not finished. you can't let him think he's won.
"you’re delusional. I haven't thought of it once." you spit, aflame at his accusation. you feel flustered, still caught off-guard. if anything, it was him who was obsessed with it - you see the way his eyes can't leave you; the way he adjusted his jeans earlier when you leaned over to pull a bowl from your cabinet.
"really?" he spits, brows raised. his chest moves with the exertion of your yelling and you resist the urge to hit him or stomp your foot or anything. "yes, really." you defend, face heating up under the scrutiny of his knowing gaze.
"anyone ever tell you you're an awful liar, sweetheart?" he drawls, raising his brows at you.
you fume, standing up, pointing to the door, "get the fuck out, Joel."
his eyes light ablaze with the same anger that rages in your heart as he stands, throwing his napkin on his plate, "gladly. food was great." he spits, storming out of the house with no other words.
--
your scowl doesn't leave your face for the entire rest of the night. what- what the fuck was that? how dare Joel assume so much about you- he doesn't know you, at all.
your eyes fall to the bottle in your hands.
ellie left her water canteen at your place. you were so angry, so mad earlier, that you hadn’t realized she’d left it until a few minutes ago.
she doesn't need it, right? she could get it next time she comes round. yeah. she'll get it next time, you don't have to go over. right?
no.
you have to go over.
the anger within you festers just as much as the slick that plagues the apex of your thighs in the aftermath of your spat with Joel; it's a vicious cycle where you think about his tone, how condescending it was and then you get mad - but some sick part of you wants it to consume you; wants him to consume you.
you’re fucking obsessed with him. you hate him.
you need to hear him yell at you again- if-if anything, to get your ten cents in on the argument, and also maybe to get some good content for your wet dreams tonight. jesus christ.
god, you're so fucked up.
christ.
so once you finish cleaning from the remnants of the meal, your legs are carrying you over to his house with Ellie's canteen in your hand before you can second-guess it.
what the fuck are you doing?
you're standing on their porch in mere seconds, your breath heavy with wrath. what if Ellie opens the door? well- you suppose, if she does, you'll give her the canteen and talk to her. probably apologize for acting the way you did. no business with Joel, then. yeah. that’s... that’s fine.
fuck. why do you want Joel to answer so terribly?
you know where the answer lies - a coiling beast of arousal, consuming and muddling your mind, just at the apex of your thighs.
Joel is a fucking asshole. you need him. now.
your knuckles slam so hard and unforgiving against their door that there is no possibility of them assuming it's anybody else but you at their porch. their light is flickering and dim above you as you stand, canteen in hand, eyes trained forward in determination.
the door swings open in an air of irritation.
your face jerks back as Joel Miller stands, staring at you with the disdain of a thousand lifetimes swirling around his eyes.
"y'here for more?" he snarks.
your momentary hesitation melts away when his words drip from his lips. a glare pierces him through the eyes when you shove the canteen into his hands, "I'm here for Ellie. she left this." you spit.
he lets out a chuckle, humor absent from the ring as he scratches his nose, "right." he mutters. "well she ain't home. went to the movie in town." he clips, setting the canteen on the table just inside the house. "y'need me to pass any more of your words of wisdom on to her?" he asks, voice clipped and prickled with sarcasm.
you glare. "yeah. just do me a favor, tell her I'm sorry her dad is being a hypocritical, neglecting asshole." you snark, sending a false smile up at him as he leans with his arms crossed at the doorway.
you don't miss how he leans into it, how he's not slamming the door on your face. he wants to argue, too. "-and you can suck a dick, Mr. Miller." you add, intending to whirl away on your heel.
he scoffs, a deep and condescending noise. "thanks for comin' all the way over to return a little canteen. g'night, darlin', hope you don't make too much'a mess when you cum all over that table again tonight thinkin' of how much I hate you. glad y'got your ten cents in."
your face burns hot in embarrassment, and at the irony of him using the same phrase you’d thought.
the door moves quick to shut, but your arm moves quicker.
your hand wedges is just before it shuts, leaving you far too close to Joel than you'd like - gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey surround your senses. again.
so you shoot another fist forward, aiming for his left jaw; aiming for it to hurt.
he’s going to fucking hurt.
it doesn't make contact with the warm skin, though: no, his hand has caught your wrist in an iron-tight grip, wrenching your arm down hard.
you let out a gasp of surprise as he shoves you off of the door and away from him before you can blink.
but instead of the door slamming in your face, his rough hands are pushing you hard up against the side of his garage. the door behind him remains ajar as he pushes himself into your space, growling at you as your mouth falls open in shock.
"did you just try to hit me, girl?" he whispers, voice deadly serious. you swallow, arousal rushing down to your heat; you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he stares hard at you, but your eyes trail down to his jeans.
you hide your smirk as you take in the stretch of the rough denim, the outline of his own arousal evident even in the dim light. he’s hard because you were going to hit him.
your body aches as you remember the stretch of him inside you, splitting you open. your eyes flicker back up to his where he breathes heavily, expecting a response.
you give him one.
"yes, but you already knew that." you smirk, cocking your head as you boldly gyrate your hips forward slightly, your clothed cunt clenching in desire as you graze his hard-on. "or are you not hard right now, Mr. Miller?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction.
his rough hand shoves your hips hard back against the wall, a growl slipping his throat. "y'got a dirty fuckin' mouth on you." his breath hits your cheeks in a warm reminder of the wine you'd both had for dinner.
"so it wasn't because of that?" you ask, blinking in a false sense of innocence, watching as his eyes swim with an animalistic hunger. you've got him right where you want him. "was it from thinking about me touching myself? or, from remembering the last time we were together in my house?"
his momentary lapse in recovery allows for you to go in for the final kill, "Mr. Miller,” you coo, “do you think of my pussy when you fuck Dahlia? d'you wish it was me?" you spit, smirking up at him as red splatters his furious features, "you can talk all you want, Mr. Miller, but I know you're just a greedy, desperate man who loves to pretend you have any power over me." you whisper into the shell of his ear, palm roughly grabbing the outline of his cock boldly.
his next movements take your breath away: the shock of his fists slamming hard against the wall on either side of your head makes you jump, and his hawkish, angry eyes bore into yours.
"get your fuckin' hands off of me. now."
his voice is... scary.
the blood leaves your head as your damp spot of your pants floods with desire, the fear spiking a real excitement in you. you are smart enough to follow his orders; the look in his eyes suggests you do so.
your hands shakily fly back from his crotch to hang by your sides as you stare up at him - nervous. excited, ready.
his eyes are narrowed, stern as his brows are furrowed low. the permanent scowl on his lips is intimidating as he holds your gaze with fierce intent. "you're gonna be real fuckin' honest with me, now. okay?"
you swallow dryly, staring up at his face, how he's boxed you in with arms on either side of your head. you feel cornered, small; prey, hunted by predator.
you nod smally, startled into silence, unable to speak as the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. your legs clench, searching for relief only to be disappointed at the dull sensation.
he stares at you for a few moments, unmoving except for the flaring of his nostrils and the rising of his chest as he breathes just as heavy as you.
"are you wet?"
your face flushes with heat. christ, Joel is going to kill you. (if you don't kill him first). your legs feel weak, desire driving your heart rate up as you nod meekly, voice cracking out. "y-yes."
he nods, seemingly pleased with your honesty.
"how long have you been walkin' round with ruined panties?" his head tilts down slightly, angled down at you as if chastising you. you flush in shame, genuinely taking a moment to remember the exact moment you first noticed your underwear dampen.
you can't admit to him that you woke up this morning with his name on your lips and a wet patch on the seat of your sleep shorts, can you? (and certainly not that it happens every day.)
"s-since-" you take a sharp inhale, glaring at him for humiliating you like this - outside, no less. anybody could walk past or look out their window and see Joel and you like this. "dinner."
his brows raise, the look darkening on his face. you can tell, he loves the beginning - the teasing, the arguing, the embarrassment - just as much as the end. "dinner? s'like, two hours." his frown immodest, tempting. judging.
you nod, biting back a snide comment about Joel being an excellent time-teller, your face burning in embarrassment as you break eye contact, staring at your feet.
"d’you like being a slut?" he asks, then. you nearly whimper at his words, the aching in your cunt burning, pulsing and clenching around nothing as you stare at him in desire. fuck Joel Miller.
"'m not a slut." you say, but the defiant words come out more as a whine than a sharp argument. one hand falls from the wall on your left to grip onto your jaw, holding your cheeks hard as he forces your eyes back up to him.
his nails dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as you gasp, your own hands in fists as you resist pulling him into you.
"that's not what I fuckin' asked, now, is it?" he sneers. you blink up at him, shaking your head after a moment of contemplation. "no, sir." you whisper meekly. you don't miss the tightening of his grip at the honorific as it falls sultry from your lips. he hums.
"do you want me to touch you?" he asks next. you can't even have the decency to stop your whine as you nod, "yes, please."
his other hand falls from the wall, eyes just as angry and unforgiving as he undoes the button on your shorts single-handedly. "good. don't you fuckin' look away from my eyes, y'hear me? hands down, eyes up."
this is twice now that he hasn't let you touch him - your brows furrow, but just as he snaps in front of your face, you let the thought melt away.
"y-yes, sir." you nod, your palms sweaty, heart thundering as he shoves his hand down the front of your shorts, breaching your underwear easily as fingers slide through the deft curls that lie just above your heat.
"gotta warm y'up for me this time," he mutters, eyes sharp as he watches yours, ensuring they don't do as much as blink.
it's delicious, almost too much as two of his thick fingers part the seam of your lips, your wetness spilling and coating his fingers immediately. you burn in shame, thighs starting to close over his hand.
one ruddy, thick thigh slides to kick your leg to the side, widening your stance as he shoves you harder up against the side of the house. the tip of his finger prods at your aching hole, leaking with desperation for him.
there are crickets outside, a steady but low staccato of music filling the summer Jackson air as one finger slowly slides into you, curling unforgivingly as you gasp, rising on your toes as he stretches you. "fuck," you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall behind you.
the thud is dull, but it echoes around the street and it calls your attention to the very public space you're in.
"hey." Joel snaps, one hand swatting your cheek lightly as your eyes close, "don't look away."
you blink back at him as he pumps lazily for a few moments, watching your every micro-expression, the way your chest stutters with his motions. the noise of your arousal is humiliating against the pleasant summer breeze.
you can't help the low moan of his name when he adds a second finger. the stretch is nothing like when it's his cock inside of you, but the strokes, the curl of his fingers start to coax a simmering coil in you that you know will explode soon.
your eyes are still on his obediently when you nearly whisper it.
he hears it, though, and smirks, "what was that, darlin’?"
you groan in irritation but it splinters into a sharp moan when his fingers pick up their pace, fucking into you as you lie slack against the wall, legs trembling.
"just- fuck me. fuck me now." you wheeze, the desire a burning snake that coils around your chest and squeezes at your heart.
"no." he decides, eyes glaring, "can't have y'whining like a bitch again, darlin'. gotta open you up on my fingers first." the sting of his words are cushioned by the lust that swirls around his voice, the languid was his thick fingers pump up into you, holding you up against the frame of the house with a dark smirk.
you nod, hissing in stimulation when one finger slides to start rubbing your neglected clit with just enough pressure to curl your toes; your chest is slick with sweat, fingernails digging painfully into the meat of your palm as you hum, lips sealed tight to avoid yelping out.
your eyes flicker from his once more, scanning the street just feet away from you, paranoid of the possibility of a neighbor seeing you.
Joel notices, of course. "what, baby, don' want the neighbors to see?" he hums, eyes cutting into you as your face flushes with heat, "y'seemed to want everybody to hear me fucking you stupid last time, didn't 'ya?"
you groan, "fuck you, Joel."
his hand stops its ministrations just as cold ice pours down your spine. oh, shit.
his hand slides out of your pants, face furious.
you shake your head, eyes welling with tears; you hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. "n-no, wait, 'm sorry, didn't mean it." you whimper, voice choked with the loss of his hand.
he just huffs a cold chuckle, wiping his hand over his face, the other one glistening with your juices under the light of the porch.
your panicked, desperate babble of apologies is stopped with one look from him.
"get on your goddamn knees now."
you shiver with excitement, tears drying slightly as you swallow, complying quickly. the cement is rough and cold under your bare knees, your hands held still together on your thighs as you stare up at him in wait. he stands tall before you; the shroud of the flickering porch light emboldening him, making him look like a god - an unforgiving one, at that - as he pulls his thick, pulsing cock from his jeans.
your mouth waters as he starts to pump it languidly, the tip a red color from arousal, leaking precum.
he doesn’t have to ask you to open your mouth for him, your own desire to taste him spurring you to stick your tongue out flat in wait for his dick.
"I'm going to ask you again." he says, tapping your tongue with the weight of his length, the slapping noise flooding your underwear as you ache to feel him again. "do you like being a slut?"
you swallow, tongue sliding along the bottom of his head as you do, muttering a slight, "yes, sir."
"'s right. you love being my slut." he nods, your mouth open and ready for him as he thrusts his whole length into your wet, warm mouth; you gag almost immediately, his hips unforgiving as he immediately starts to fuck into your throat. you try your best to breathe through your nose, gagging as his tip pokes the back of your throat - you know there'll be a bruise that will make it painful to eat, drink, speak - you fucking love it.
he lets out a grunt of arousal, nodding as his hands gather your hair from your face, gripping your cheeks and pushing your head back against the side of the house.
two thrusts, a few tears from your eyes as you choke, your lungs burning for air.
he pulls away, you suck in air with a strangled gasp. your saliva links you to his heavy cock, a chain that holds you in his grasp. "tell me you love being my slut."
you burn at his words and in your brief hesitation, his cock is slapping at your mouth, his impatience bleeding through his actions.
"I-" your voice is wrecked after only a few seconds of him in your mouth, but you swallow as you gasp for air, "I l-love being your slut."
he slides himself through your slick lips again, hips a punishing pace as he fills up your mouth, your throat tight and wet. his groan echoes through the street; in the corner of your eye, you swear you see a light turn on in a bedroom window. shivers of desire run through you as you resist the urge to touch yourself.
you can't breathe; your nose brushes against the course hair at the base of his shaft, the scent of him surrounding you as his hips try to smash you against the side of the house.
he holds you there, hands rough on your cheeks, slapping your right cheek as it bulges with his length. you choke, gagging as you try your hardest to keep eye contact. his face is harsh, his sneer cold as he stares at you, "'s right, choke on your fuckin' words, darlin'." his hips press forward slightly and you cough around him, it's too much - tears slide down your cheeks as you try not to gag more.
"you gonna disrespect me again?" he asks, tilting his head as spit trails down your chin, tears meeting the trail of saliva as it drips down onto your chest.
you can only hum a nuh-uh around his cock, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. you feel yourself throb and fucking burn with need, your knees sore from the cement under you.
you cough and sputter when he pulls himself away from you, mouth sore, jaw aching and throat wrecked. his eyes flicker over to the house across the street before he grips your shoulder, tugging you in your aroused, dazed state up to your legs.
"oh, darlin', you're bleedin'." he coos at you, thumb swiping your cheek as you stand up. he's right: your knees are just scratched enough to speckle the skin with dark splotches of blood. you feel a tingling sensation of arousal as he hums, "let's get you inside, hm?"
you stumble to keep up as he storms through the threshold of the house, the door swinging shut after your shaking frame falls inside. it's dark; there is only one lamp turned on in the other room.
Joel is almost a shadow as he surrounds you, your hands falling onto his large, stiff shoulders as he pushes you against the door frame.
your legs give out from desire soon and the two of you tumble to the ground, a mess of grunts and shoves, tearing at clothes as you whimper in desire, his own lustful groans echoing the empty house. as his pants are shucked off and your shorts are thrown across the room, your hips are shoved and flipped over until you're ass-up for him, one of his large hands moving roughly to grab a handful of your plush behind.
your hands and knees ache, but you wiggle your ass slightly in need, not daring to speak to him. the anger that radiates from the two of you is a grenade; you can feel the tension bubbling behind your desire and so you just move back until you brush against his hard length, the fabric of your panties completely soaked as you grind against him.
his moan echoes as a hand falls hard to slap against the skin of your ass. you let out a strangled yell, the pain stinging through you as you keen forward. you know there will be a handprint branded into you, you know it'll be sore to sit and you'll have to think of him each time. he'll consume you for days.
you love it.
his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with desire, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty cunt, just for me." he mutters; you shake with desire when you realize it was more a mutter for him than an intentional phrase for you to hear.
"think you're ready for me, baby?" he grunts, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your puffy, glistening cunt to him.
"I'm so re-ready sir, please, fuck me." you beg, reduced yet again to nothing but a writhing mess for the worst man you know.
he gives no warning, no teasing - he breaches you swiftly and rough. you scream.
it cracks, it echoes, it's painful as you yell out, his cock heavy and huge and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within a few seconds. Joel's moan reverberates on your skin as his hands grip so hard at your ass you think his fingers will remain there for days.
he immediately sets a pace that has you squirming under him, breath choking up in your chest as you slide against the hardwood. the smell of the house is Joel - sandalwood, whiskey, pine. sex.
your arms are tugged roughly.
panic rises in you when you think you're about to slam your face against the floor, but as Joel pounds hard into you, he pulls your hands tight to your back, holding you up to you're suspended with just his cock working you open can keep you from falling.
it's bliss. it's sharp, this angle; he hits into that spongy spot inside you as his cock drags against your pulsing walls, your hands clenching as your breath leaves you.
one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as he reaches up into you deeply. then it snakes lower, rocking you forward as he swats at your clit, the sharp smack of his palm causing you to squeeeeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- jesus christ, girl, you're s-so tight."
the noises of your arousal swallowing his dick echo around the room in a sickening chorus.
"dumb girl, lovin' it when I yell at her," he mutters to himself, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "gonna be o-obedient and thank me for each orgasm, 'kay?" his accent is thick in the throes of passion, you notice.
you nod, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful; you let out a wheeze of ecstasy. "y-yes, s-sir," you choke, your voice croaking from the remnants of his dick wrecking you.
you barely realize you're cumming until you’re screaming, a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision. tears are resurfacing on your eyes as he hums, "say it."
you swallow, shakily squirming as he pounds into you, unforgiving in tone and pace. "than-thank you."
it only takes a few more minutes and his thick hand squeezing your throat before you cum for a second time, your hands pulling at his hips, trying to escape the overstimulation of his long, dragging thrusts. the floor is slick with your juices, and so is his pubic bone.
"thank you, s-sir." you slur out, his hand holding you by the throat against his chest, his heartbeat slamming just as fast as yours.
soon he drops your arms, their shaky muscles barely stopping you as you fall to the floor. his chest follows you until he's smothering you, thrusts becoming weak with his own nearing orgasm. you cry, the overstimulation causing you to shake. "'s too much, too much."
he hums, "you want me to stop?"
"no!" you scream it, wail it; no, christ, don't stop. never stop.
he chuckles; a dark, brooding noise. "an' you wonder why I think you're such a bad influence." he mutters into the shell of your ear as he pushes further, deeper into you; "lettin' an old man fuck you into the floor. lovin' it."
he chuckles as you let out a whine, eyes screwing shut at the bursts of pleasure coursing through you. your knees ache.
"'s dirty, isn't it? and you love it, pretty girl."
you let your cheek drop onto the hardwood at his ministrations, spent from your previous orgasms; the pet name makes you flush, arching your hips back. he's so deep, you feel him in your throat. each thrust pushes his tip into your cervix, a dull ache with a swirl of pleasure and ecstasy. you let out a groan, "love it, love it s'much. love it, sir, thank you." you whimper, your brain empty except for Joel Joel JoelJoel-
"good m-manners, sweet girl." he hums, pressing a hot kiss to your spine. goosebumps form in his wake, his words echoing in your brain. sweet girl.
"you're gonna cum one more time." he orders, the thrusts of his hips grinding you down, melting you, tearing you. you nod, "yes, yes-yes, fuck, gonna-gonna cum again." you whimper, the painful overstimulation of his cock drilling through your spent, swollen folds.
your third orgasm has you wailing, shaking your head as you convulse in pleasure, his strong grip holding your hips down as he hits your spot repeatedly, the noise of him fucking into you echoing through the foyer.
there's tears on the floor as you shake, colors exploding behind your eyes as he whispers things you cannot hear into your ear.
when you come to, he's still ravaging your body.
you're limp, ecstasy flowing through your very being as his cock spears through you, hands smacking you, gripping you, grunts leaving his mouth as he nears his own orgasm, having pulled three from you.
"where are your manners?" he whispers into your ear. you let out a broken half-laugh, half-gasp. "fuck- thank you, Joel, thank you."
he hums in satisfaction and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you as you utter his first name.
he's back in your ear in seconds, surrounding you, swallowing you whole. you love it.
"this is my pussy. mine." he grunts, "never think 'bout any other pussy. jus' this one. always." his voice is laced with desperation as he swats your ass, thrusting into you a few more times as you squirm, sobbing, throat raw.
yours, you whimper in a chorus, body limp as he uses you; his thrusts are sloppy. he's so close-
and he cums just as he's pulling out of you; you gasp at the loss but also as his cum shoots hot spurts across the plush curve of your ass, a bit onto your spine - most of it over your ruined pussy, streaking you in white.
you pulse around nothing, shaking as your legs give out. he groans a deep thing, fingers falling to spread you open, the lewd noise soft and slick.
you jolt and he shushes you with a soft caress of your back. "jus' wanna see it, baby. wanna see how I ruined you."
you swallow dryly at that, nodding as you tilt your hips, eager to feel his eyes over you, over all of you; eager for him.
a finger smears his spend over your juices, pressing lightly at your puckered hole, pushing some of his cum back into you. "fuckin' christ, girl."
you set out a laugh that turns into a cough of pain at the ragged state of your throat.
he stands and leaves you on the cold floor, covered in sweat. you try not to let your heart deflate when he’s gone.
but he returns with a rag and hands it to you before shucking his jeans on; you pull your underwear back on with shaky hands once you’ve wiped yourself clean, your body exhausted.
you sigh. even the thought of making the trek just a few houses down to your own place is daunting as your eyes flutter. something in his eyes glint in understanding when your gazes meet each other, and he seems to get it.
so if Joel gathers you in his arms with a grunt and a short complaint, you don't think too much about it.
(you hate him. he hates you.)
and if he holds your head to his chest as he starts the walk back to your house, it’s not a big deal to you.
when brings you up into your bedroom instead of leaving you at your front door as he finally carries you to your house, you chalk it up to you being nearly asleep. you must be delirious when he tucks you into your mattress and pulls your blankets up. you swear he mutters something about dinner and nice and good job.
(what a cocky asshole.)
it's probably a dream, when a hand caresses the sweaty skin of your forehead, brushing hair away gently before footsteps disappear through the doorway.
.
part three
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requests open
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Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils
Pairing: Mikey Sano x Fem Reader x Izana Kurokawa
series summary: your grievous sin was emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: the two brothers realize that peace with emma is within their grasp, they just need your cooperation
chapter warning: dark content, 18+ nsfw, character x character smut - cunnilingnus, struggling with sexual attraction, angst, mention of assault, physical violence, slut shaming, misogyny, intrusive/dark impulsive thoughts of murder and rape, manipulation, gaslighting, objectification of reader, mental health struggles, masking, breaking and entering, smut -character x reader, reader is threatened with r*pe, dubious consent, coercion, making out, dry humping, cunnilingus (reader receiving), pussy job, terrible aftercare, religious themes and guilt, panty stealing.
wc: 12.3k
masterlist||chapter 2||chapter 4
“NGH, K-ken -more please-”
There is nothing more divine to Emma than what Draken was doing to her right now.
It was supposed to be a normal morning after a wild night. She had told Ken last night, after round five, going to round six that she had a test tomorrow, one she absolutely could not miss and he had promised her no shenanigans.
Unfortunately, Ken is not one to keep those kind of promises. She’s not sure why he decided to be touchy today; maybe it was the two weeks of no contact until you pushed her into accepting Draken’s proposal for a date night.
Whatever it was, it got the man in such a rut that he couldn’t help himself but to eat her out.
Her legs spread out wide on either side of Ken, his head buried in between her thighs, lips latched onto her clit, his tongue licking circles. Yellow eyes cast down to Draken, her hand gripping his long blond hair, forcing him to stay put.
Emma knew there was no need for that. Ken is her good boy and she is his good girl. They would do anything to keep each other happy, even if it breaks either of them.
She can’t help but let out soft moans at the gentleness of his tongue, the way his large fingers rubbed the sides of her waist to keep her grounded, occasionally rolling his tongue to her hole, before trailing back up to her clit. The girl felt her back lift from the bed, arching in a perfect circle, her heels digging into the bed. Ken hums into her pussy, sending vibrations onto her clit and a wave of electricity down her spine.
“Ken, fuck more-” she gasped, feeling his long tongue swipe up her clit, his mouth engulfed around her pussy. “Oh yesyesyes- ah”
Emma felt like she was in cloud nine, so high with bliss underneath Draken’s touch. Whenever she was with him, all her problems disappeared for a moment and everything felt so, so good. She didn’t have to think about university or lecturers sucking up to her because of her eldest brother, she didn’t have to think about Mikey and Izana bothering her or their actions or anything.
She didn’t have to think about you.
You with your soft gaze, laughing gently at whatever joke she might have told you -it wasn’t that funny and yet Emma found herself smiling along with you. Your smile, so beautiful when genuine it reflects in your eyes. Your warm skin that she looks for any excuse to touch, to feel you. The way you looked at her shocked when she showed you the knowledge she retained from Taekwondo, underneath her sweaty body, your chest rising and falling.
‘No! shit. I’m not meant to do this now. Not again’ She panicked, trying to focus on Draken’s ministrations again.
But her thoughts kept drifting back to you. Emma’s strong hands securing your thighs, pushing you down to her face until you're on top, her tongue working on your clit and hole while Draken eats her out as well.
It was too late, the mere thought sent a wave of electricity to her clit, combined with Draken’s touch.
Her two favorite people, sandwiched between them. You’re more innocent, unskilled and Emma is willing to let both her and Draken pamper you, his large hands cupping your breast as he fucks into her while you grind on her face. Or you on the bed, Emma watching Draken fuck you stupid while she touches herself to the thought.
‘C-can’t help it.’ She relishes in his touch and her imaginations, now switching to just you and her, your bodies pressed together as she rubs her clit on yours, gently kissing you. ‘I want you (name), I want you I want you-’
Emma cried out as she orgasmed hard, white filling her vision. Draken’s tongue worked her through the feeling, letting her grind on his face as she rode it out until she couldn’t, falling flat on her back on the pillows.
She tried to catch her breath the moment it was over, mulling over the feeling of post euphoric bliss. Draken crawled from between her legs and laid on top of her, lowering his lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss. She hummed, relishing her taste on his tongue secretly wishing it was yours too.
The man pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, just staying in silence with her as he usually did after a session. A pang of post nut guilt hit her for thinking about you like that. It felt so wrong and disrespectful, especially knowing how well you trusted her and how she cherishes you so much. You’re her friend, she’s not supposed to imagine you in such vulnerable positions, not when you probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such thoughts and not when she is in bed with someone else.
Not when you might not have feelings beyond friendship.
She didn't realize her face was scrunched up in a frown until Draken traced a large palm to her face and pressed his finger between her brows, rubbing circles in the space. “Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “At least that’s what you told me.”
She rolled her eyes in response, swatting his hand away as she shoved her guilt at the furthest corner of her mind. “It’s a stupid myth I told you so that you stop scaring my other friends that don’t know you. And there’s nothing wrong with wrinkles.”
He smiled mischievously, the kind that Emma was used to when he was about to push her buttons like always. “So what’s with all the beauty products?”
“Get off my case Ken.” she hissed at him, but there was no malicious intent behind her tone. “Besides you and Mikey steal my very expensive products any time either of you come here. Buy your own shit.”
“You steal the fries off my plate, too.”
“The fries are 5 dollars, Ken, you’ll live.”
Draken opened his mouth to retort when her phone rang throughout the room, interrupting whatever playful argument they were having. Emma smirked, silently claiming victory by default as she rolled off the bed -nude and walked over to her phone on the reading table, picking it up.
‘(Name)?’
That didn’t sound right. You never called her this early in the morning, stating that you prefered silence until at least nine am. No matter how hard Emma tried indoctrinating you to work out with her by six am, you were never a morning person, oftentimes falling asleep on the treadmill. It was rare to see you call in the morning and those were usually emergencies.
Emma picked up her phone with trembling hands, and an unfamiliar wave of fear settled in her gut. The last time she got a call that made her so nervous, Keisuke Baji was badly injured to the point he nearly lost his life.
‘No.’ Emma whispered to herself convincingly, steeling her resolve. ‘Maybe it’s an emergency wardrobe malfunction or she needs my laptop.’ her finger hovered on the answer button, gut feeling getting worse as she slid the green phone icon upwards. ‘It’s just something minor. Something minor-’
“hey-”
“Are you Emma Sano?” An unfamiliar masculine voice instead of yours responded, making Emma’s heart sink even further into her belly, already assuming the worst. “Y-yes. Is there a problem?”
“Yes. (Name) (last name) was assaulted last night. She is currently in the intensive care unit receiving treatment at hospital.”
The moment those words hit Emma, she felt incredibly ill to her stomach. It was as if the earth stopped spinning, time freezing her in place as she realized what had happened to you. She could picture it; you all alone, left to die some place possibly crying for her while she was having fun with Draken. Bile filled her throat but Emma quickly swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste -throwing up wasn’t going to help you now, she needed to find you and see if you were okay.
“Hello? Ms. Sano?”
Emma steeled her resolve, taking in a deep breath before continuing, her voice threatening to break. “Yes. I’ll be right there soon. Thank you.”
Emma discarded the phone on the table as soon as the call ended, moving towards the wardrobe in quick strides without another word like a robot. Draken raised a brow in confusion at her sudden mood shift, pushing the sheets off his limbs and started walking up to her. “Em? What happened?” He asked “who called?”
“(Name) is in the hospital. Dress up, you’re taking me there.”
MIKEY hated morning classes.
The professor had been droning on about DNA profiling for the past two hours and the blond had already lost any form of interest he might have had the first thirty minutes of the class. At times like these, he’s thankful that he was only in university just to have a backup for whatever business he was going to venture in and felt pity for whoever this was their only choice.
Nothing of any significance has happened since that day in his car. You vehemently avoided him when he tried approaching Emma- which irritated him because he felt your actions are uncalled for. Izana hadn’t taken him seriously when he made the connection between you and Emma, so there was no need to pursue you any further, for now. He had asked Makoto to keep tabs on you for him, in case Izana eventually changes his mind, which Mikey knows he will do after Emma ignores him once again.
And just, for keeping tabs sake.
It wasn’t like he replayed the scene in his mind when he touched himself, thinking about how good you would feel around his cock instead of his fingers. Or that he scrolled through Emma’s instagram with his secret account and went through the photos you appeared in, admiring your smile, your pretty face and sometimes exposed thighs.
Maybe he had judged you too harshly based on his own assumptions. Hakkai had told them about your past in high school; how you were the topic of discussion in the boys locker room. They had all made a bet that Hakkai was roped into to show that he wasn’t weak- to get you to lose your virginity to either one of them in your class.
And eventually, one boy claimed he did it. Saying you even slept with the entire lacrosse team -which he was a part of- and showed them what they assumed to be your panties as proof.
Mikey conveniently left out the part that Hakkai had said was just a rumor that nearly ruined your life when telling everyone else the story.
“Alright, class dismissed! I have your tests graded and I will be sending them to you via email-”
“Thank goodness, it’s finally over” Mikey groaned, pushing himself out of his chair and rushing towards the door along with other students eager to leave. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about his studies - he was far more careful about his grades here than in high school; but it didn’t mean that he had as much patience to sit through an entire lecture without zoning out.
His stomach growled, bringing him back to reality. Since there wasn’t another class until 1pm, Mikey decided to take a well-deserved break and get food from outside the campus. He contemplated on asking Haruchiyo to do it for him, noting how his childhood friend was so obsessed with doing anything for a silver of his attention, but ultimately decided against it. Haruchiyo’s constant fawning usually was nice but it gets very suffocating pretty fast-
“Mikey! MIKEY YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”
Mikey paused in his tracks, turning his head around to see Draken storming towards him, face red and teeth gritted so hard that any more force would chip the edges. Confused, the blonde haired male tried to think of what he could have done that would have caused his best friend to be so furious, he’s causing a scene instead of settling it behind doors as usual.
Sure, they’ve been at each other’s throats because Ken thought that Mikey should have apologized for being disrespectful towards you that night, but that was it.
Nothing came to mind. What the hell was going on?
“Ken-chin calm down-”
Before Mikey could even finish speaking, Draken’s fist made its way to his jaw, the force pushing him to the ground entirely. Mikey didn’t even get a chance to defend himself as more barrages of heavy blows rained down on his eye, his nose, his lips, his cheeks and any part of his body from an angry Ken.
“YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? DO YOU LOVE BREAKING YOUR SISTER’S HEART SO MUCH? DO YOU LOVE MAKING EMMA CRY?”
Each of his words was articulated by his heavy blows, until Mikey could barely feel his face. Any time Mikey attempted to say anything, he received a heavier blow on his mouth.
Essentially telling Mikey to shut up.
A number of hands yanked Draken away from Mikey soon after, trying to hold him back from hitting the blonde again. “FUCK OFF! DAMMIT I NEED TO KNOCK SENSE INTO THAT IDIOT!” Draken yelled, struggling against his friend's grip, wanting to lunge at him at any point in time. “DOES HE KNOW THE DAMAGE HE HAS CAUSED?”
The blond laid on the floor, in pain, shocked and clearly confused on what was happening right now. Ken had only beaten him this hard when Emma had almost gotten hurt because of him and Mikey swore to himself never to put his sister in that kind of situation ever again.
��Emma … shit is Emma hurt?’
A sense of dread ran down Mikey’s spine. Did something happen to his sister? Is she hurt? in danger? In pain? A lump formed in his throat as his imaginations began to run wild, thinking up scenarios where Emma was hurt, lying in a hospital bed in a hospital.
Picking himself up from the floor until he could stand on his two feet, Mikey turned around to face his dark haired friend that was held back by Mitsuya and Baji. “Can anyone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Mikey started, ignoring the pain spreading throughout his face as he looked at the other two males, also staring back at him, shocked. “Keisuke? Mitsuya?”
“We don’t know-” Mitsuya began, keeping his grip tight on Draken. “He went to Tenjiku’s frat house first, screaming for Izana but then left when they didn’t answer the door. Then he came to Toman’s looking for you. I tried to calm him down but he stormed off-”
“DON’T GIVE HIM AN EXCUSE TO ACT DUMB!” Ken roared, cutting Mitsuya short. “YOU AND YOUR SHITTY BROTHER KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO (NAME).”
‘(name)? Was she with Emma when Draken came to pick her up?’ Mikey mused to himself, in an attempt to piece the entire story together. ‘Don’t tell me she ran her mouth about that day in the car and gave Draken the wrong impression that I hurt her.’
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mikey roared back, his temper also getting the better of him. If this was the reason that Ken was mad at him, he was going to beat his friend twice as hard and then find you to teach you a lesson. Classes be damned. “I haven’t done anything to that skank that warranted this behavior.”
“OH YOU’RE STILL CALLING HER A SKANK?” Draken screamed back, nearly furious. If not for Mucho joining to hold him back, he would have jumped at Mikey again. “YOU HAVE THE GUTS TO CALL HER THAT AFTER PUTTING HER IN A HOSPITAL? HUH?”
“Hospital?” Now Mikey was sure that whatever Draken was mad about was clearly displaced aggression because he hadn’t done ANYTHING to you to the point you would go to a hospital. “What do you mean hospital?”
“God Mikey, stop fucking pretending.” Draken sneered at his friend. “Who did you tell to do it? Huh? Did you tell Kisaki to get someone for you like you alway do? Or you just decided to take care of it yourself this time?”
“Ken-chin I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mikey was at a loss for words at this point, the pain long forgotten as he tried to prove his innocence. “I didn’t do anything to (name). I haven’t even spoken to her since last week.”
The sincerity in Mikey’s voice was enough to calm Draken down, his shoulders visibly deflating in his friend’s grip, chest heaving with each breath the tall male took. “You… you have no idea what happened?” The blonde haired male asked between labored breaths, his brow furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t know?”
“Ken-chin,” Mikey started, in between irritated at being attacked and curious as to why. “fuck if I know what happened to her. Why don’t you tell me?”
Understanding that Draken wasn’t going to attack Mikey anymore, both Keisuke and Takashi released him, letting Draken’s bloody knuckles fall at his sides. Draken didn’t look up from the ground, his fist tightly clenched at his sides. “I know you don’t care.” He rasped, his voice strained from all the yelling. “but that innocent girl was violently assaulted last night and now she’s in the ICU.”
Mikey’s outward expression remained neutral. It wasn’t surprising, considering that he never once cared about you and made that clear to everyone who tried to tell him to apologize to you.
“Emma has blamed herself for putting (name) in harm’s way.” Draken murmured, his fists tightening in response to Mikey’s nonchalant look. Of course he didn’t care but couldn’t he pretend to be concerned at least? “Even if neither you nor Izana are involved, it still doesn’t rule out the fact that you both made her to be a public enemy! Do you know how many people would hurt her just to get in your good books? To get into Toman or Tenjiku?” his voice began to rise again, scolding his friend. “You both robbed her of any support system she could ever have in this school because what? Emma became her friend?”
When Mikey didn’t respond, Draken kissed his teeth. “Of course you don’t care.” He spat out. “It doesn’t even bother you at all. And I’m sure that devil of an older brother would be cackling at the news…”
“Draken, calm down, please-” Takashi tried to reason with him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s not say things we will regret later and focus on the person hurt-”
“Forget it.” He hissed, gently pushing Takashi’s hand off his shoulder and started to leave. “I’m going to stay with Emma and check if (name) is stable.” He took a few steps before turning to look at Mikey with a cold expression. “I can’t believe you’re the same guy I call my best friend.”
Mikey watched Draken walk away, his expression neutral. Takashi was the first to follow after, talking about how he should at least treat his knuckles first. Keisuke and him made eye contact, disappointment evident in his dark haired friend’s eyes before he turned around to leave, not opting to tell Mikey anything at all.
They never saw his knuckles whitening from how hard his grip was.
Or the blood dripping down from Mikey’s clenched fists.
‘Izana’
“WOAH, what happened to your face?”
It took everything in Mikey to hold back from decking Shion in the face.
The thoughts swarming in his head screamed murder, over and over again, calling to him. He knew that Shion had nothing to do with whatever happened to you - going by his own injured face and swollen eye, Shion is a victim of Izana as well.
He didn’t want to feel this. To hear his own thoughts curse at him, call him horrible names like ‘woman beater’ and ‘heartless’. He hated that even his own head turned against him once again, triggering something so evil and vile in his heart that made him want to see someone bleed out.
He had tried to fight it. The violent nature inside him. He tried to squash it with anything -meditating, drugs, giving into his depraved sexual urges. All that and still, one singular thing could ruin everything he had built.
And it was always Izana.
“Move.”
Shion was about to say something snarky in response, but quickly shut up the moment he noticed how dead Mikey’s expression looked and stepped aside for Mikey to enter into the fraternity house. Rindou raised a brow at Mikey’s presence, looking up from his video game to ask him what he was doing here. Only for him to swiftly turn his attention back to the game, as if he had seen a ghost.
“W-what the fuck” Rindou whispered to himself. “Holy shit he looks pissed.”
Mikey quietly made his way upstairs to Izana’s room, before forcing the door wide open with a loud bang. Izana -fully clothed- doesn’t even flinch at his presence, despite the naked blonde haired girl kneeling in front of him, mid-fingering herself, screaming in surprise, before covering her top half with her hands.
‘(name)’s roommate. Of course.’ Mikey put two and two together. ‘Always willing to sell her out for dick just like last time.’
“You” Mikey snapped at her. “Get out”
“Y-you can’t talk to me like that!” She shouted back at him before turning to Izana with doe eyes. “Baby, tell him to get out-”
She didn’t even get to finish as Izana threw her clothes at her face, before barking at her. “Are you hard of hearing? Get out before I throw you out myself.”
A sob escaped her lips as she quickly shrugged on her dress and ran out. Izana looked back at Mikey, a knowing smile gracing his lips at his younger brother’s obviously furious face.
“Judging by how you’re looking at me, you’ve seen the little present I left Emma.”
Mikey hadn’t realized when he jumped on top his brother and started exchanging blows with him. Izana doesn’t hold back either, wrestling Mikey off the bed to the ground, swinging twice as hard.
“Oh come on,” Izana yelled, articulating his words with brutal blows to Mikey’s jaw and face. “What are you angry about? She’s still alive isn’t she?”
All Mikey saw was red as he head butted his elder brother on his nose, destabilizing him before throwing Izana on the wall pinning him in place as he hit his abdomen repeatedly. “I told you not to do anything stupid.” His voice didn’t change inflection as he switched his direction to Izana’s cheek. “Why the fuck don’t you ever listen to me?”
The older male blocked the last fist aimed at his face and kneed his brother in his stomach, before kicking him to the floor. A psychotic grin made its way to Izana’s face, like the painful blows were nothing to him. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel-” he kicked Mikey in the face, making the blond tumble across the floor. “-bad for the little slut now? Are you in looooveee with her?”
Izana’s mockery only fuelled Mikey’s anger, making him push himself off the ground and kick his brother violently in his face. The white haired man fell straight to the ground, howling with laughter at Mikey’s outburst as the blonde jumped on top of him, ready to punch his face again.
“Oh. Oh, you’re in love with her-”
“THAT IS ENOUGH!”
Mikey’s hand froze mid punch as Kisaki Tetta - the ever cunning advisor- stepped into the room. Hanma is not too far behind, glancing at the now destroyed room with a low whistle, mumbling about how the wreckage will take a lot of money to fix.
Kisaki looked at the two of them, nose turned up in disgust as he folded his arms around his chest. His glass encased eyes scanned around the room, tsking at the destruction. “Kokonoi’s going to fucking kill me.” He murmured before looking at the two males, a frown on his lips. “All this over one bitch?” he asked, a brow raised in disappointment and shock. “I’d be impressed if I wasn’t pissed.”
Izana was the first to react, scoffing at the younger male’s unwanted interruption. “What are you even doing here? This isn’t your problem-”
“It’s mine now.” Kisaki shot back hotly, irritated by everything that was going on. “Since Mikey’s dearest friend thinks I’m responsible for whatever happened to Emma’s stupid dog, I have to make it my problem. The both of you, get up. Now.”
The two of them begrudgingly untangled themselves from each other and got up, dusting their clothes. Kisaki eyed both of them, moving from Mikey to Izana and then Mikey again.
“Which one of you is responsible for putting her in the hospital?”
“I didn’t even hit her that hard-”
“Are you still arguing about how hard you hit her?”
“Sorry. I’ll take it easy on your ‘girlfriend’ next ti-”
“ENOUGH!” Kisaki interjected once again, extremely frustrated by their constant squabbles. “You both realize that I’m- WE’RE literally under police scrutiny right now because of this entire issue right? I- I mean we need to get Emma back on our side since that is what the both of you are obsessed with.”
It was Mikey’s turn to roll his good eye, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I highly doubt that’ll ever happen, seeing as someone fucked it up for all of us-”
“Manjiro Sano, you are twenty-four for god’s sake. Stop being so childish and think with your brain for once.” Izana spat back, getting fed up with Mikey being on his case about it. “Do you really think (name) would actually admit I did anything? She’s too busy kissing our little sister’s ass to even defend herself.”
Kisaki nodded, agreeing with Izana. “Izana has a point. (Name) wouldn’t want to drag anyone into this, seeing how non-confrontational she is from my observation”
He paused for a bit before continuing. “But we can’t bank on that. You know how women are -they can snap any minute and change their mind. We need to pressure her into keeping quiet.”
Mikey took a long and deep breath, trying to make headway and listen to what Kisaki was saying, despite the whole ordeal sounding so wrong. His good dark eye flickered to Kisaki’s face as he asked. “Like how? Do we give her a large amount of money to shut up?”
“Don’t think that far Mikey. It’s just a mild assault, not something serious.” Kisaki shrugged his shoulders. “All you have to do is apologize-”
“Apologize?” They yelled in unison.
“Shut up and let me finish.” Kisaki barked, silencing any protest from them. When he was sure they weren’t going to interrupt him, he continued. “You don’t have to mean it. Just tell Emma how sorry you were for the party incident and how bad you feel that she got hurt. Pay the hospital bills or threaten (name). I don’t care what you do. Just make sure she stays quiet.”
As much as Izana and Mikey wanted to pass off Kisaki’s idea as a stupid plan, it actually sounded like a good idea. Pretending to care for you would touch Emma’s heart and give her the impression that they bore no ill feelings towards you.
They had to admit, as much as Kisaki was a bastard who was only doing this for his drug business, they couldn’t deny he was more insightful than anyone when it came to interpersonal relationships.
Too bad he couldn’t use that skill to get the woman he loved.
Now that they had an idea on what to do, one question still remained at the tip of Mikey’s tongue. “What about the police? If they ask who is responsible and she just dropped the case, they’re going to get suspicious.” he looked at his feet. “Plus my elder brother cannot find out that this happened. He’ll personally make sure we rot in jail for hitting a woman.”
“Yeah, he’s so adamant about protecting women.” Izana said dryly. Why does he need to care about other women who were probably asking for it? It wasn’t his business. “It annoys the hell out of me. I can understand protecting my sister but what does other women have to do with me?”
“They probably need protection from you. Freak.” Kisaki muttered underneath his breath before returning to his normal voice. “The both of you don’t have to worry about that. I already have a fall guy. Fucker can’t pay his debt in cash, so he’ll pay with his body”
Izana raised brow, impressed by Kisaki’s speed in doing damage control. No matter how much he made fun of Kisaki not being able to fight when push came to shove, he admired how quick he was with his thinking. At least he had that going for him. “You’re sure you weren’t some criminal mastermind in your former life?”
“I ask the same question everyday.” Hanma, who had been standing at the doorway completely silent this entire time, finally spoke. “Almost scares me sometimes.”
Kisaki only rolled his eyes in response, training his pointed gaze at Izana, issuing a final warning. The hoops he had to jump just to even evade being a suspect in the case, having to talk to police and deny knowing you so that they don’t crack down further on whatever shady business he partook in, was already stressful enough.
“This is the first and last time I’ll do this for any of you. I won’t tolerate any slip ups again. Don’t make me regret it.”
EMMA was careful in switching out the old flowers with the new ones in your hospital room.
It had been four days since she had rushed here, bare faced and teary eyed and met you in a sorry state. Back then your face was barely unrecognizable; your two eyes were swollen shut, handprints on the two sides of your cheeks, bruises littered everywhere. Your body was so cold- medium hypothermia the doctor had diagnosed, since you were left outside as the temperature dropped. You were in so much pain and you could barely react, that they had to knock you out to treat you properly.
Ken had left in a fury the moment he was sure you were going to be okay, and returned with busted knuckles, along with Mitsuya and Baji at his side. Emma couldn’t remember exactly what they were telling her as they sat besides her in your hospital room, much more preoccupied by keeping her eye on you.
It was all the same. “Sorry. We’re so sorry Emma.”
She was sorry too. But sorry could not change what had happened to you.
They would switch hours with her. In the morning, Mitsuya would arrive, food, new clothes and a sketchbook in hand and watch you while she goes to the hospital to shower and change. She’d come back to see him gently holding your hand and talking about his new ideas to you, only letting go when she made her presence known. He’d stay until twelve o’ clock, silently sketching for his portfolio before leaving for his next class and in came Keisuke.
Sometimes Baji would come with Chifuyu or Kazutora. Not the both of them, because he said one of them has to cover up for the others missing in class. They would arrive with takeout and Baji would talk about the latest gossip in school- how two professors were caught with each other. Both were married, to other people of course but it never stopped them. Sometimes he’d turn his attention to you as the nurse changed your IV and make corny jokes. He took your fingers moving a bit as a sign you liked them.
Draken came in the late afternoon. Always with flowers and Emma’s school work. Hina was usually with him, silently looking at her feet before taking a seat beside the blonde girl. “How are you?” “Have you had anything to eat?” and then the orange haired girl would go into what happened in class that day.
“We had a test today.” Hinata whispered, watching Emma put the dead flowers in the dustbin. “I wrote your part for you.”
“Did you write for (name) too?” She doesn’t even look at Hinata as she caressed the flowers. “Or did you forget about her like you claim that you always do?”
“I-” Hinata froze at how hostile Emma’s tone was. Before you came, Hinata was her closest friend. They spent so much time together in middle school and high school that people called them sisters. So when you suddenly appeared in the picture, Hinata felt side lined with how you and Emma, despite being different, clicked so fast.
That feeling bloomed into a tiny jealousy but Hina was too kind to wish evil upon you.
“Don’t be hard on Hina.” Draken jumped in her defense. “She tried writing for (name) but the time of the test ran out. (Name) can always retake the test since she’s ill.”
“She should have written for (name) first. One call from my brother would have taken care of my grades. (Name) doesn’t have that privilege.”
“Emma-”
“No Draken, don’t Emma me!” She snapped, all the anger bubbling inside her finally spilling out. “Since this whole ordeal it has always been ‘oh Emma we’re so sorry’ ‘Emma have you eaten?’ ‘Emma, have a change of clothes.’ ‘Emma Emma Emma’ as if I’m the one who is lying in the hospital bed, unconscious! Not one of you has apologized to her!”
“We-”
“Shut up Ken” she screamed in frustration, tears spilling from her eyes. “All of you sat and watched my brothers practically ruin her chance at having anyone care for her, that isn’t me! You watched her get humiliated at that fucking party and sided with THEM! None of you would have given a shit about her being here if I wasn’t looking after her!”
“Emma-”
“I’m not done yet!” she yelled, silencing Hinata. “Her family is useless! None of them cared enough to even come when I told them what happened to her! And now even the people that come everyday only dote on me while she’s just an afterthought! Hell only Mitsuya had the decency to ask me if she had made any progress or woken up. What is wrong with all of you!”
The two of them remained quiet, looking directly at the floor as Emma breathed heavily, clearly exhausted from all the screaming she had done. Awkwardness settled in the air, the two ashamed of themselves. In the end, the bitter truth was what Emma had said and they felt terrible for it. Although it wasn’t intentional, they had ostracized you for the sake of pleasing Mikey and Izana. Even the attack was because of how badly the two brother’s had demonized you in front of other people.
Draken inhaled before stepping forward and placing his large arms around Emma’s smaller frame. She doesn’t struggle, instead collapsing in his arms, loud sobs escaping her lips. He doesn’t say anything, only rubbing circles on her back to ease her. “Easy. It’s alright.” He whispered, gently comforting her.
Before she could say anything, the door of the hospital opened up, revealing Ran with a huge bouquet of flowers, Rindou not following too behind with ridiculously large balloons all spelling get well soon and Kakucho holding a bunch of bags containing chocolates.
The respective trio all glanced at each other, blinking back and forth, increasing the odd tension in the air. After another thirty seconds of silence, Ran was the first to break the ice.
“Uh… did we arrive at the wrong time?”
Emma quickly pushed herself away from Ken, wiping her tears off quickly with the back of her hand and returning to her regular self. There was no way she’d let anyone else see her cry. “No-” she started shaking her head. “No, no, no, this is the right time. Come in.”
The three of them stepped in and Kakucho shut the door to the ward behind him. “Sorry, we didn’t come earlier.” Kakucho began, walking straight to where you laid peacefully, your chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. “How is she um… doing?”
“She’s getting better.” Emma replied, her voice a tad bit shaky from crying. “The doctors said the moment she wakes up, she’ll be able to leave.”
Draken watched as the three men rallied around her bed after dropping the gifts off in a proper place. Another moment of silence befalls the room, everyone watching you sleep peacefully - trying to bury their individual guilt of being complicit in what brought you here. Emma’s stubbornness, Draken and Hinata’s consistent silence and Ran, Rindou and especially Kakucho’s unwavering loyalty that have forced them to lie to Emma.
And you, in the center of it all. Face almost back to normal now, the swelling nearly gone, but still littered with bruising that surrounded your neck.
All they could do was stare powerlessly and feel sorry for you.
Eventually, Hinata and Draken had to leave as night time emerged. “I’ve got to meet up with Takemichi.” Hinata said as she packed her things away, her voice soft. “He’s not been feeling so good for the past few days now. He sends his regards though.”
“I hope he gets well soon.” Emma replied quietly, before giving Hina one last hug. “And I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
“It’s okay.” She patted Emma’s back, before pulling away. “I’ll try and talk to the professor about her test in class.”
Ran and Rindou were the next to leave after another hour. “Should we get bigger balloons next time for the sleeping beauty, Emma?” Ran asked, a bit too flirtatious for her liking.
“That’s the last thing anyone would want” Rindou snapped, grabbing Ran by his arm and dragging him away. “Sorry about him.” He shouted as they walked away through the door, Ran muttering about how the pretty girls in there were already stuck dating losers. “I hope (name) wakes up soon.”
Kakucho stayed until it grew dark before leaving Emma. “I’ve tried talking to Izana to at least come.” He said, slipping on his jacket and tucking his bike keys in his pockets. “He hasn’t really said anything about what happened, he just stays cooped up in his room.”
Emma exhaled for the upteenth time today, resting her back on the chair. “I never expected any more from him.” She mumbled. “Thanks anyways.”
Kakucho nodded, patting the girl on the back. “I’ll come see you tomorrow. Make sure you don’t fall asleep on the seat.”
“I’ll try.”
The room fell silent again the second Kakucho shut the door. Now left all alone, Emma gently held your hand, watching over you until her eyes grew heavy. Even with the fading bruises littered all over your face and the disappearing eye bags, you looked so beautiful, at peace with the world. You were like those beautiful statues of mother Mary she saw when she went to church with you one time. A timeless beauty, marred by scars and failed by the very God that sought to protect her.
She longed for you to have the light in your eyes again like the first day she met you in class. You were so happy - naïve but happy back then. You would always light up when you experienced something for the first time. There was a brightness associated with you - far brighter than her and like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to you.
God, she missed your hugs. Whenever Emma had an awful day you would just hug her and stay like that until she felt better. She missed your voice, hearing you speak demurely or shyly. She missed you so much it nearly drove her crazy.
If only she could have been there to protect you. In a heartbeat she would change her mind to be with you or take your place.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please wake up.”
MIKEY gently opened the door to your hospital room, careful not to startle or wake anyone up.
A voice nagged him in his head, that he was a coward to come so late in the night but at this point, Mikey could care less of what he thinks of himself. The only important thing right now was to get on Emma’s good side and completely get rid of the notion that he was the bad guy.
Even though he had called in favors from the chief of hospital staff to let him do this.
Izana had insisted on following him behind, but got held back because he was shit at parallel parking. Mikey wondered how his brother even got his license in the first place, considering that Izana intentionally broke nearly all the traffic rules to get here.
His footsteps were soft, creeping towards your bed until he stopped beside Emma’s chair. She slept in an awkward position, neck hanging off the head of the chair, mouth wide open with drool to the side and her hand tightly clutching yours. He could see how worn out she looked, dried tears staining her face, heavy rings of dark circles, coupled with tangled blonde hair.
Wordlessly, Mikey pried her hand from your own and picked her up from the chair to the more comfortable sofa seat, putting her in a better sleeping position before covering his younger sister with a blanket.
He felt bad. She spent lonely nights by the looks of it, wishing you would wake up. He had never seen her look so tired or worn out before and he hated seeing her so stressed over something so … irrelevant.
He gradually walked back to her former seat, man spreading wide enough as he sat down. It was so weird to see you sleep like you were a human being, your chest rising and falling ever so softly. The moon casted its gentle glow on your face, gracefully tracing the column of your neck to the rest of your body. His mind went back to a fairytale his mother used to tell him, about a beautiful princess, pricking her finger on a needle and falling into a death like sleep.
The similarities were there. Tragedy befell you both. You were asleep with no indication of waking up and as much as he hated to admit it to himself- he knows you’re beautiful.
It was the first thing he noted when he set his eyes on you for the first time ever. There was just this brightness and gentility that came with your beauty that nauseated him. You were sweet. Far too sweet when he spoke to you for the first time and too kind to be true. He hated it. Why were you so kind when nobody really deserved it?
Even when he was painstakingly mean to you, you tried so hard to apologize. It made it harder for him, being jealous of your ability to warm hearts faster than him. He wanted nothing more but to make you cry and hurt like him until you’re no longer kind anymore. Anything that would block out that brightness from you.
His mom was nice and sweet like you. And dead. Very much dead. Going by your track record, you’ll marry the first man to bat an eye at you and live a miserable life getting cheated on until you die of a broken heart. You were just that naïve.
You were just that weak.
He watched you for some more minutes, the only noise being the ticking clock above your head. It was so easy to harm you right now. A pillow to your head and it would be the end for you. Maybe Emma would cry a little bit but then she’ll move on and run back to her beloved brothers, then everything would be back to normal.
Or, he could slide his hand underneath the flimsy blanket and just finger you again. Or force his cock into you and cover your mouth with his hand if you wake up. It wasn’t like you would be able to fight him off. As long as he cleaned you up and left no noticeable mark, no one would know what happened.
He put his hand underneath your blanket and rested on your thigh, thumb circling on the bare skin. His mind whispered to just “do it” and “take you”.
‘It’s so easy. So eas-’
“Manjiro?”
It was so faint and yet he heard your groggy voice call out to him, stopping him in his tracks and he pulled away from your thigh. Your eyes cracked open, darting around as you sat up disoriented. “Where am I?”
It was obvious you had just woken up from the induced coma or whatever they had put you on. His mind suddenly blanched, now confused on what to do or tell you. What now? Was he supposed to comfort you and tell you you’re in a hospital? Or get you to lie down? ‘I hadn’t anticipated she'd wake up? What should I tell her?’
And as if the universe cursed Mikey, the door creaked open, revealing Izana mumbling about he hated driving a car.
The reaction was immediate. Your once confused visage morphed into a terrified expression the moment you locked eyes with Izana in the dimly lit room. You must have remembered what had happened before you passed out, every single detail rushing back to you in full force.
‘Shit, this wasn’t part of the plan.’
“You! You tried to kill me! Get away from me-mmhmmphmm-”
A hand slapped on top of your mouth, keeping you from speaking. You looked back up to Mikey with fearful eyes, who placed a finger to his lips, shushing you. “Shut up.” He hissed. “Or do you want us to finish the job?”
Your eyes grew wide with fear at his murderous gaze, the pit in your stomach only growing deeper as Izana made his way to your bedside, now standing in front of you. Your body trembled rigorously when the tan skinned man suddenly pulled out a gun, brandishing it in your face.
“Now listen to me.” Izana threatened, pressing the gun to your temple to buttress his point. “Not a word about anything from that night. Understood?” You nodded, scared out your mind. “You’re gonna act like we’re cool with each other. I don’t want any form of frowning or fear or anything that’ll raise suspicion. I don’t care how bad you are at acting, you’re gonna put on an oscar-worthy performance pretending we apologized to you and you’re okay. You don’t want to find out what happens when you cross me.”
You nodded your head as tears rolled down your cheeks, your fingers gripping the sheets below you tight to anchor yourself, praying he doesn’t change his mind and blow your brains out. Satisfied, Izana tucked in the gun underneath his holster and patted the top of your head patronizingly. “That’s a good, good girl.” He cooed, “you’re a good girl aren’t you? You’ll stay quiet, hm?”
You shivered as his warm hand caressed your face, his touch being so gentle for you as opposed to his violent nature. Mikey released your mouth, his dark eyes flicking from your face to your lips. “Use your words.” The blond snarled.
“Y-yes. N-no one will know.”
It was almost cute the way you stuttered. They should be feeling some sort of remorse for making you cry just as you woke up from a minor coma, possibly ruining a happy moment for you, but you looked so pretty whimpering and shaking for them.
“Good, good girl.” Your stomach churned at Izana’s satisfied smirk. “You’re smarter than I thought.”
You watched as the two of them stood upright and headed for the door, their mission accomplished. Tears gathered in your eyes once again, a loud snivel escaping your lips, slapping a hand to your mouth when it caught their attention.
Izana, already fed up with you, walked back to your bedside, teeth gritted in irritation as he lowered his lips to your ear. “I’ll give you something to cry about if you don’t shut up.” he growled. “Wipe your tears NOW.”
You complied quickly, cleaning your face repeatedly until your face was raw. “Now lie back down.” He demanded and you compiled, pushing your body back until you laid on the bed, facing the wall. You only heard footsteps as they walked away and you don’t dare shed any tears until you hear the door slam shut.
‘Oh God.’
YOU knew better than to disobey Izana and Mikey.
Your smiles were as bright as the sun, eyes shining with the radiance that could only be compared to a bright light. There was a pep in your step anytime you walked, pushing forth all the positive energy you could give to the world. Everyone complimented how well you took the incident that befell you and how fast you healed, commending you on not letting the past define you.
It’s toxic. People saying just how strong you are for smiling and existing rots your brain and fills your throat with bile. They can’t see the hurt underneath the layers of clothes you wear or the blinding smile and wave you give everyone.
You want someone to notice you’re in pain and hug you, swear they will protect you and keep you safe. But as long as Mikey and Izana live, nobody will ever risk their life for you.
They got what they wanted. Emma was talking to them again after you lied to her face that they had apologized to you in the middle of the night. Someone else was in jail, awaiting trial for assaulting you, while Izana roamed free, clinging onto Emma to make up for lost time. Mikey would occasionally glance at you from time to time as you watched them from afar, waiting for Emma to be done so that you could go back to your dorms.
She had refused you going anywhere alone since that incident, citing that someone might still attack you. “I just want you to be safe, '' she had said once, trying to explain herself to you.
You didn’t have the heart to tell her what really made you feel unsafe.
“(Name), what’s the subject of the sentence?”
“Huh?”
You’re brought back to earth when Hina snapped her fingers in your face. She had decided to join Emma in helping you study for your makeup tests due in a week, but you don’t seem to be focusing on anything at all. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Izana and Manjiro, plagued by their constant playing god in your life.
Pushing those thoughts aside, you decided to pay more attention to the test you were studying for. Eventually, they’ll give up on harassing you and everything will go back to normal, being the joint kings of the school until they graduate. You’ll be a tiny blot in their memories as they find partners, get married and have kids, all the while running Japan’s crime scene.
There was no need to keep thinking about them. You were insignificant in the scheme of things.
Just keep your head down and study. Be a coward and tuck your tail between your legs.
“Sorry Hinata. The last sentence went over my head.” you said, pushing your book forward. You felt bad for wasting Hina’s time- even though she’s the best in your class, you were sure she would rather be doing something else than having to sit all night studying with you. “Subject verb agreement in a compound sentence isn’t my strong suit.”
The orange haired girl merely shrugged her shoulders in response. “Eh. It’s cool. Professor Hanabi was terrible at teaching it anyways and I didn’t understand what he was saying in class.”
“But you got a perfect score.” You interjected, if Hinata didn’t understand the topic what are the chances of you getting it either? “Only you and Emma don’t have to retake this test again.”
“Because we went on youtube immediately after class. Duh!” Emma clapped back. “Unlike some of us who think facebook is still a valid form of social media.”
“Hey!” You screamed back, embarrassed at Emma making fun of you. Why she loved bringing up the fact that facebook was the only social media you were allowed to use at home still remained a mystery. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again!”
“That’s one promise I’ll never keep.” She teased, sticking out her tongue. You opened your mouth to retort when Hinata snapped back at the both of you. “Alright, that’s enough. Focus on the lesson, I only have an hour left until I meet up with Takemitchi.”
“Fine.” you and Emma groaned in unison. You would get her another time.
You decided to spend the rest of the hour listening to Hinata talk about compound sentences and occasionally, Emma chiming in with short quizzes. It was slow, but you were making some form of progress with their help until you were sure you got the hang of it. You moved on to other topics in the course, asking questions whenever you were confused.
By the time you had reached the quota of your studying, it was about ten pm. The two girls had to pack up and go their separate ways, leaving you to do your revision for the rest of the night, alone.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Emma asked you as she stood outside your room door. “Your roommate hasn’t returned back to the room since you came back from the hospital.”
Shaking your head, you put a hand on Emma’s shoulder, reassuring her that you were going to be fine with staying all alone. “Em, it’s fine. I’m already in my room so no one will harm me.”
“You sure?”
The worry in her yellow eyes made your heart hurt. You hated seeing your friend who had spent the most part of last week watching over you while you were knocked out in the hospital look so troubled. It wasn’t her fault that her brothers were like that and you didn’t want her to punish herself for it.
“Sure, Em.” You smiled, before pulling her in for a tight hug, inhaling her flowery scent. “I’ll even lock the doors tight. Nothing will happen to me in my room.” You mumbled into her shoulder, lingering in her arms before pulling away and forcefully dragging herself until she disappeared into the hallways.
Now left to your own devices, you ensured the door was locked, before going ahead to shower. You let the cold water wash away the sweat and grime off your body, making you relax your tense muscles for the first time today. The stress of having to pretend you were okay was weighing down on you - a heavy burden that felt far too big and far too much for you to carry. You’ve been assaulted twice and the perpetrators still waltzed around like they’ve done nothing wrong to you. You saw them with prettier girls hanging off their arms, all smiles and laughter. Hell, they treat them far better than you, buying them gifts and taking them out.
You only asked for an apology from them, but they couldn’t even give you that.
The sound of your room door unlocking broke you out of your trance. ‘Wow, she decided to come home, finally.’ Your roommate, Kehlani hadn’t bothered to even check up on you in the hospital from what you heard, despite her being aware -and admitting to Emma that she knew. She even confused you further when she gave you a dirty look the day you returned and then disappeared the next without any trace.
It didn’t matter anyways. You and her were never on good terms in the first place so you didn’t bother with her behavior. Perhaps she would one day warm up to you if you kept being kind to her.
Thankful that you took your nightwear with you, you shrugged on your blue tank top and your tiny white shorts decorated with flowers, hung your towel on the rack and brushed your teeth clean, ready for the night. A yawn escaped your lips as you reached for the door, deciding to retire early tonight.
“I have nothing else to do anyways” you hummed, walking out of the bathroom. “I need to rest too…”
The words died on your lips the moment you locked eyes with Mikey’s.
He was just sitting on your bed calmly, looking straight at you with a blank expression on his face, still clothed in his usual baggy carton coloured trousers and button up shirt twice his size. Your heart leaped into your throat at how unbothered he was being caught in your room, his hands resting on his knees. You could feel his gaze, dark, empty -at first, drinking up the sight of you in such little clothes until a smile makes its way to his lips.
“Manjiro.” Your voice started shaking as multiple questions rang through your head. What was he doing in here? How did he get in here? Why did he come here? What was he going to do to you? "Manjiro please-”
“(Name), come here.”
You hate how collected his voice sounds, how he’s not freaking out, like it was his room that you broke into and not the other way around. You stay rooted in place, not wanting to obey him or anything he has to say. “Please…” was all you could manage to get out of your lips, your back pressed to the door as he stared you down. “Please don’t do this.”
“Unless you want me to rape you, then come here. I don’t have that time to play games with you.”
The bluntness of his words sent chills all over your body. Something told you it was better to go along with whatever he said, hopefully he wouldn’t want anything too much from you.
You would rather not want to find out if he would truly hurt you.
Your body pushed off the wall and made its way to him until you were standing in front of him. You swallowed down your fear as his hands reached up to the sides of your clothed ass, kneading them in his palms. “How soft.” He murmured, before pressing his nose to your crotch, sniffing you down until his head was between your legs. Your body grew hot with embarrassment as he smelt you like he was a fucking dog, humming in approval at your scent.
“Manjiro-”
“Shh.” He silenced you, pulling his head from between your thighs. His palms that once kneaded your plump ass suddenly grabbed them and pushed you onto his lap. A tiny gasp emanated from your lips as you felt something very hard poke you through his layers of clothes, your face just inches from his until your noses touched.
You don’t smell alcohol or anything strange in his breath. He was doing this sober.
‘No, no, no-’ you panicked at the feeling of his hard on in his pants. You can’t let him touch you like this, the first time was already a mistake. You can’t make the same mistake again. You’ve spent so much time praying and doing penance, you can’t let it go to waste now.
“Manjiro please. This is wrong-” you started pleading with him, pressing your hand on his chest, putting some distance between the two of you. “I can’t do this. It’s wrong- ah”
His lips find purchase on your neck, before dragging it across your neckline to your jaw. His hands push you until you’re pressed into his chest, immobilizing you from trying to run away from him. You shivered with each wet kiss Mikey littered around your neck, his lips so gentle in kissing you up and down. His hands start to slowly rock your hips, grinding down on his hard on with a low groan as he moves to your mouth, lips pressing gently at the corners.
“Open your mouth.”
You gave in, slightly parting your lips for him to kiss you fully. The way he slotted his lips against yours felt so wrong, so sinful as he pushed his tongue inside your mouth to intertwine with your own wet muscle and yet, your body couldn’t help but react to it, wetness slowly seeping from your womanhood to your panties.
Each kiss was more sensual than the last, a hand moving from your hips to the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he made out with you, his hot muscle gliding over yours.
Was this how he made girls feel? As much as you hated what was happening, your body grew hot with each grind and kiss, his clothed cock teasing your soaked clit. You felt so airy and lightheaded, like nothing else was going on in the world but him. It wasn’t like the first time in his car, where everything was rushed and it hurt; this time he was gentle, methodological which was unexpected from the careless and cruel Manjiro Sano you were forced to deal with everyday.
He pulled away from you, a long string of spit connecting both your lips. The grinding stopped, and you nearly let out a whine because it was beginning to feel good.
The realization made you snap back to reality. What the hell were you thinking? This was disgusting.
“Manjiro, I can’t do this.” You started pleading with him. You don’t know what could have gotten into the blonde haired male, but you needed him to stop this and leave, before it escalated into something else. “Please, we have to sto- oof.”
Mikey was quick to shove you on the bed completely face up, before climbing on top of you, crushing you with his weight by lying down on you. You opened your mouth to protest only to be silenced by a kiss again, this time far rougher than the last one, both your teeth clanging on each other. Your head spun as his hands began to travel underneath your tank top, pushing the flimsy material up until your breast sprang free.
With his body pressed on yours, you felt his dick twitch at the same time.
He pulled away from your lips, his hair forming a curtain around both your faces and focused on your breasts. Your body grew hot as he groped the two mounds at the same time, his breathing heavy as he played with them. Your head falls to the side with him squeezing your tits before massaging it again, eliciting moans from you.
“You have such nice tits.” He murmured between breaths, groping and teasing you with each compliment. You’ve never been complimented by Mikey before, all you knew was how caustic he could be to you. “Nice tits. Nice ass. Nice pussy.” He groaned, pinching your nipple hard and making you whine loudly. “Even your moaning is so cute.”
You don’t know how to react. His behavior is so unlike him. So strange that you don't even understand why he was acting this way. You briefly looked up at him, noticing how hooded his gaze was. His face was red, the blush extending to his neck and hell, even his hands were red.
It made you feel shy. You turned your head and looked away from him, not wanting to be under his scrutinizing gaze. Everything felt so wrong, but you couldn’t deny that his gentle touches made your heart race fast and the pulse between your legs grow wet.
He finally lets go of your breast and kisses your neck again, earning soft moans from your lips. He trailed butterfly kisses down your neck, to your sternum, down to your stomach. A soft “Manjiro” escaped your lips as he kissed your pelvic line simultaneously, hooking his fingers on your shorts and panties to pull them down.
It was as if that snapped you out of your lustful haze. Nobody had ever seen you down there before, it was wrong to let a man that isn’t your husband see such intimate parts of you. You sat up and put your hand on his wrists, stopping him from moving further. “Manjiro wait- we can’t…” you protested. “... it’s against what I -”
“Interrupt me again. I dare you.”
You froze at how dark his voice sounded. It was as if another man had taken his place, with how he was so quick to change his mood. “Lie on your back or I’ll rip these to shreds.”
You obeyed, not wanting to incur his wrath, closing your eyes as he dragged your shorts and panties down to your ankles, leaving it there. Your let out shaky breaths as he spreads your thighs wide, showing your glistening wet pussy in all its glory. He adjusted himself until he was kneeling on your bed and yanked you forwards, earning a yelp from you until your legs were on each of his shoulders, shorts and panties hanging off from one leg.
The position felt so exposing, but any shame you felt disappeared when he began kissing your inner thighs. You breathed through your nose in an attempt to steady yourself. You’re not familiar with this sort of position - not even the romance books you snuck into your room from the library talked about what Mikey was about to do.
‘Just breathe.’ You whispered to yourself. ‘It will all be over so-’
Your eyes flew open as his tongue licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, your whine high enough for the entire dorm to hear. His fingernails pressed crescents into your thighs as he started to glide his tongue around your clit, circling around it in lazy, slow eights. Your body seized up, the bundle of nerves firing signals that even you couldn’t understand.
‘W-what- OH MY GOD-’
“MANJIRO-”
He didn’t let up, maintaining his pace as you trembled underneath his tongue, rolling around your clit before moving down, flattening his tongue until he stopped at your entrance, before moving up again. Your head fell back onto the bed as he opened his mouth even wider, his tongue slurping your juices emanating from your pussy, moving up and down.
His lips latched onto your clit, sucking deeply, his tongue running through the middle letting go with a loud pop before grinding his face on your cunt, his tongue slurping and sucking, sending vibrations from your clit, straight to your brain. Each stroke had your fingernails digging deep into your sheets hard, until you were sure you had torn holes in them. Your body shook and trembled with how fast he bobbed his head up and down, tongue brushing your sensitive nub with each stroke until your head swarmed with pleasure. His grip on your thigh was hard, forcing you to stay put instead of closing your legs around his head or running away.
Your head was foggy as a familiar build up started forming in your belly. At this point, you’re sure the entire dorm building knows who exactly was in your room with how loud you were moaning. Your body writhed in his grip as he increased the speed of his tongue fucking against your sensitive bud, focusing on that particular place with a circular motion and sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your back arched as you pushed your hips further into his face, trying to hump his face to match the pace he set.
“Manjiro- please I can’t- Ah!”
You let out an ear piercing scream as he flickered his tongue on your nub, dragging you closer to ecstasy. Your hand flew to his hair, forcing his face further into your cunny and hips automatically and clumsily grinding against his lips and tongue- unknowing suffocating him. All you cared for at this point was to get to the edge and just let go, bucking your hips even faster.
“Manjiro, oh God! Ahh unh…”
The noises you let out were nearly unintelligent, just your mind repeating the urge for you to cum on his tongue. Mikey dug his fingers into your thighs, his moans vibrating around your nub, clearly enjoying eating you out as well- increased the sensation, pushing you closer and closer. He indulged you, moving his head sideways to increase the sensation until your vision starts to blanch out, toes curling on his shoulders.
“MANJIRO OH, OH IT’S CLOSE OH OH-”
Your hips stuttered as your orgasm washed over your entire body, grinding your clit on his tongue to ride it out. He’s lapping up your juices as they gush out, groaning at how you’re twitching and cumming on his tongue, crying out his name with every thrust until you’re sure you can’t cum anymore.
You collapse on the bed hard, your body quivering with the aftershock of the intense pleasure you just experienced. You watch through tired eyes as Mikey discarded your limp legs to either sides of his waist, raising his head up to reveal his cum stained face, a lustful grin gracing his lips.
He reached up to you again and grabbed your chin, kissing you to taste your release, letting the tangy flavor invade your tongue. He pulled away, his hand still on your chin. “You taste good.” He hummed, making you feel so warm and fuzzy before kissing your face again. “You know what a pussy job is?” when you shook your head no, he groaned. “Alright, I can work with this.” He murmured before demanding that you, “pull your panties up.”
You knew better than to disobey or ask questions when he gives you that look, scooping up your panties until you covered your sensitive pussy. He started to unbuckle his belt, zipping his baggy trousers and shimming down his boxers, letting his cock spring free. You averted your eyes from staring at the slightly darkened appendage leaking with precum not wanting to sin any further than you already have.
He’s too preoccupied to care, dragging his hand around his member to spread the pre, lubricating his cock until it was slick. Mikey slipped your panties aside and uses his fingers to spread your still sensitive folds, sliding his cock with one hand into your panties until it’s well balanced between your folds, making you jolt in response.
“Fuck” he hissed, his hips bucking between your legs, slightly stimulating your already sensitive clit. “You’re so fucking wet, shit.” he groaned into your ear, dragging his cock back and forth.
Your poor swollen nub brushed against his cock as he jerked against you, earning loud whimpers from you. Each thrust is accompanied with Mikey’s soft moans, pleasure blooming in his body as your wet juices leaked on to his erect cock, making him press himself further into your folds to feel more and more of you.
His hands grab at your hips again, this time moving them as he rolled his, creating a steady rhythm for each other. Both your moans mixed with the squelching noise of his dick rubbing against your wet pussy echoed throughout the room. The scene was erotic, the two of you pressed against each other, Mikey’s flushed face glistening with sweat and his mouth wide open, heavily breathing above you, your eyes closed and mouth parted open, broken pleas falling from your lips as he stimulated your clit again.
“Uh- fuck-” the blond groaned, rocking his hips faster with each thrust, relishing in the feeling of just being able to play with your folds like this. “Ugnh (name), shit- I’m the only one allowed near your pretty folds, understood?”
“Huh-”
“No one. No other man.” He rasped out, trying to keep himself grounded as he commanded you, jerking his cock faster and faster, his hips stuttering. “Is allowed near this pussy. It’s mine and mine only-” You nodded mindlessly, not even understanding why he brought that up. “Say it. Say your pussy is mine”
“It’s yours” you breathed. “My pussy is all yours.”
“Yeah. That’s right. All mine.”
Your body shuddered the second he gave his final thrusts, rubbing his cock against your folds until he came with a low ‘fuck’, loads of cum staining your panties completely, the rest dripping on the bed in a final pump. He briefly collapsed on top of you, catching his breath until his heart returned to its normal rate.
The lustful fog had eventually cleared from your eyes and the sting of guilt and humiliation ate you alive. Here you were, lying down half-naked and face up, underneath Manjiro Sano, already breaking your promise to never return back to your sin. You felt so dirty, your body marked and swollen from the littered hickeys and bruises he left in his wake.
You’re not shocked when he pulled out from your soiled panties and tucked his dick back in. The best he does is go to his bathroom to wash his hands, before coming out with a wet towel and a panty change. He sat beside you, taking off your filthy panties and wiping you down before giving you the new ones, helping you to put them on, adjusting your clothes and finally, covering the blanket over you. You’re too ashamed to tell him to help you change your sheet or check if he put your soiled underwear in the right place. You don’t even ask him how he got in your room.
All you do is wallow in your own guilt, unaware that he left the room with your filthy panties in his pockets.
Bonus scene:
“SINCE when does Mikey get pissed when we make a joke?”
Takashi tried to drown out Nahoya’s irritating voice as he worked on his new clothing article for an assignment. His fingers worked in tandem with the sewing machine, hoping the noise would drown out the stupid agrument going on right now.
Tonight was supposed to turn out differently. They were all having fun and playing video ganes or asking each other to do stupid dares. This was supposed to be a chance to relax without having the whole school crammed in their frat house. Eventually it came to talking about girls they had slept with or would like to sleep with, and while he didn’t contribute, it was meant to be just something they wouldn’t take seriously.
That was until Hanma opened his fucking mouth and brought you up.
“You guys kept bringing up (name), how was that funny dude.” Keisuke snapped back at Nahoya. “Did you even hear the way you were talking about her?”
“It’s not like we were talking about his sister, Baji.” Pah tried to defend them. “He said any girl that wasn’t a member’s sister or Hina. How would we know he didn’t want to hear about her?”
“Maybe because he hates her?” Kazutora added amongst the ruckus. “Sure, her name is no longer banned from the house but you know he’s salty whenever she’s brought up. Or maybe he doesn’t like to hear people talk about how they want to hunt his sister’s friend down and fuck her like a whore?”
“He’s called her worse.” Hanma, the cause of the entire problem, shrugged, clearly unbothered by the situation. “I’m sure he’s only mad because he’s not the only one that wants to sleep with her. Is it our fault she’s always looks like she’s asking for dick with those eyes of hers?”
That was the final straw for Mitsuya. He slammed the breaks on the machine and quickly got up, now facing Hanma and the rest of them. “(Name) isn’t asking for anything, you’re just a pervert.” He hissed.
“Aww, the gentle man finally speaks.” Hanma teased. “You know she wouldn’t fuck you right? She’s a sucker for Mikey after all.”
Ignoring Hanma’s statement, Mitsuya decided to address the rest of toman’s executives. “Don’t you all have sisters or mothers?” Mitsuya started lecturing them. “How would you feel if someone started talking about them, the way you talk about (name)? She just went through a traumatic event, can’t you have some sympathy for her a litt-”
The room fell quiet the moment Mikey walked in, slamming the door shut. The atmosphere grew tense as their leader made his way to the center of the room, a neutral expression written on his face. They watched him slowly pull out something from his pocket and throw it on the table.
‘What the-’
It was clear what the piece of article was and who owned it.
Everyone in the room stared in shock, looking at the panties and the back to Mikey, who turned around to return to his room. Like he didn’t just do something so vile and disgusting.
He was sending a message, claiming you like you were a territory that he owned. “You can talk about her all you want.” His tone was dismissive, but the lingering threat remained evident. “But have it at the back of your mind she’s my bitch and I hate sharing.”
He disappeared into the room, leaving his friends completely speechless. No one said anything, trying processed what just happened until Hanma broke the ice.
“Mitsuya, you gonna tell him off?”
Takashi felt sick to his stomach.
special thanks to: @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe2 @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart @charcoal-xl @uradveragewhore @wcayaw @blueberry3muffin @haikyuusboringassmanager
monica's notes: thank you guys for reading this chapter! i hope you enjoy it and show your continual support by reblogging and commenting! it means a lot to me and motivates me to write faster. i'll be taking any questions you have and if you want to know what parts didn't make it into the final cut you can send me an ask.
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He Chose You (Pt. 8)
Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
The illness persists in the weight of your skin over your bones yet the loss of actual muscle and fat that turn you skeletal. Your legs become bow-like and pain radiates just above your hairline. Your vision crackles with scattered flashes of black dots, and you drink like a man lost in the desert.
Only foods that are red stay down, and even then you only nibble at peppers and plug your nose at the raw meat you stuff in your mouth. You feel the sunlight outside your window when you open it up and stick your hand through, as walking out of your apartment is a chore you can only handle once a week at most.
Once a homebody, reclusive out of necessity and exhaustion from simple interactions, you now live for Lucifer’s chatter. His presence abates your fever, physically and emotionally. The dependence on him, as sweet as he appears, makes you itch inside.
Everything is terrible, you tell yourself at least once per day, as the illness persists.
But if Lucifer is good at anything, it’s providing you with distractions from the ever-present suffering.
—
The sounds you made put the Angelic Choir to shame.
“Lucifer, don’t say that!”
The King of Hell’s laugh was muffled as he stayed buried in your cunt. The memory of you being so flustered was almost just as sweet.
He eyed your tightly screwed expression just over your growing belly, and felt gratified at his idea to have you propped up by pillows from head to hips. With the boost, Lucifer could watch you enjoy yourself and remain comfortable.
Let him feel the springs of your mattress dig into his knees and stomach. They were secondary to the pain of his own hardness straining in his slacks.
A keen from you, and the feeling of your nails as they raked through his hair and over his scalp, had Lucifer moaning. His eyes rolled back, momentarily blinded by euphoria.
“Ooh!”
Eyes snapping open, Lucifer lifted himself from the bed quickly. His tongue slipped out of you, dripping onto the sheets when he was mindless to reeling it back in.
“Why’d you stop?” Your whine between quick pants made him blink.
One eye at a time.
“I thought I hurt you.” He smiled, sheepishly, once his tongue was back in his mouth.
His mauve-lids and golden lashes fluttered when you wiped the slick from his chin. There was no missing the color that had returned to your cheeks with all the exertion he was putting you through, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to breathe life back into you. So to speak.
“Heaven help me.” You said, sarcastically.
Breathlessly.
The Devil’s hips jerked when your hand rose to grip a fistful of his blond hair. You manually lowered him back between your legs, heedless to the way his entire frame shivered.
—
‘I think I… I think I’m in love with her.’ Lucifer looked so earnest, meeting the glow of Ozzie’s stare.
The Sin clucked a tongue in his King’s direction, shaking his head. ‘Well, don’t tell her that. You’re gonna scare her away, man.’
—
Lucifer watched you fall apart from just his tongue (its length and width being inhuman notwithstanding).
You were so beautiful like this. Legs shaking, body spasming, letting go.
‘I love you.’
Man’s (alleged) Greatest Enemy could just barely contain himself.
‘I love you I love you I love you’
—
Lucifer brings you another scroll one sunny day, and you find it riddled with names.
“I’ve been thinking about what to call him or her, so I made a list! …Kinda, sorta during a meeting… whatever, it wasn’t that important!”
Oh, you could see that.
“Do you like any of them? Which are your favorites? No! Gimme your top 5!” His jubilation is so innocent, but something inside you hitches.
“Does it actually matter what I think?” You chuckled.
“Of course it does!” He cried. “You’re the mo— uh… you’re putting in most of the work!”
The weak save went unchallenged. You were already circling names, likening the process to navigating a minefield as you looked through a long line of names you couldn’t even pronounce or read.
‘Ehb
Horus
Azor
Carlton’
“What about a girl?” Lucifer asked out of the blue.
Your head cocked to the side as you realized your picks had been relegated to just one side of the endless list. That he’d written down names for boys and for girls struck you as odd.
“You think it’ll be a girl?”
Lucifer looked at you with a curious gaze. “Could be, couldn’t it?”
After a moment, you shrugged. “I guess so…”
The King’s confusion crinkled around his eyes and caused an uncanny few lines in his otherwise perfect forehead. You flick the pen at him teasingly to wipe the look from his face.
You write a few names down, and watch with a smirk as his frown turns upside down.
‘Adrienne
Charlotte
Maleficent’
You ignored the painful thought that this was a pointless endeavor. Naming a dead thing.
—
With eyebrows raised, you sat waiting dutifully, hands clasped over your stomach while he rummaged through the box.
“Aha!” He pulled out two red objects, one in each hand, and knee’d the chest out of the way to present them to you.
“Surprise!”
Two remarkably crafted stuffed animals were set before you on the couch cushion.
Goats.
It took you a second to place them, staring at their intricate appearances — covered in fluffy red fur from head to cloven hoof, with large yellow eyes and tiny red smiles stitched on their stark white muzzles.
Shiny, metallic-looking horns curled over the curvature of their little heads, tips almost touching the tiny approximations of wings protruding from their backs. You noticed that the little wings were also sticking out of the backs of their tiny tuxedo suits; solid black to further contrast their Luciferean color schemes.
An uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal escaped you.
Damn these hormones. You internally chastised yourself while reaching out to finger at the detailed plushies.
“They’re so cute!” You admired the unbelievable softness of one’s fur, hand overlapping with Lucifer’s as you turned it this way and that. His grin was so wide in your peripheral vision as he soaked up your fawning.
“Aren’t they?!” Lucifer squealed along with you. “They’re twins! But see this one has lighter fur and this one has sharper eyes. I tried to give them little differences so they had some individuality.”
“Michael and I looked so similar in the Beginning, a ton of people always got us mixed up. Sometimes it was fun, but I got tired of hearing him bitch about it after the first couple centuries.”
A more serene countenance overtook your counterpart, with his line of sight drifting off to the floor beside you. Lost in thought. Or perhaps reminiscing.
“Michael?” You asked gently.
“My brother.” Lucifer replied.
“Ohh, I think I remember… is he a Prince of Hell too?”
The formerly Divine man frowned. “… No. Not him.”
A shadow fell over you both, distant sadness suffusing the air. You reached for him instantly, only for Lucifer to switch on like a lightbulb and grin manically.
“Oh well! Who knows, maybe he took Dad’s side just to make sure no one ever confused us for each other ever again!”
You pulled away. “… right.”
Lucifer shook his head after a glance in your direction.
“Um, so, I was thinking…” He began. “Maybe we give one to the baby an-nd… one could stay here… with you…”
There was no hiding the confusion that crossed your face.
You ‘tsk’ed. “You wanna deny the baby half this cuteness?”
In response, Lucifer tittered, still adamant on looking around the room instead of meeting your gaze head on. “Hah, no. I was thinking that, maybe, we could keep one of them here and… and then they could reunite every time the baby and I… or just the baby… visit…”
Slow realization made your already weak constitution roil.
Perhaps, if you’d been yourself and not the hollow shell of a person you’d become while pregnant, you would’ve been angry. Or upset enough to shout. Maybe you would’ve gotten up and left him there on his lonesome, wordlessly demanding he not entertain that idea ever again.
Certainly, the You from before this insane, impossible scenario wouldn’t hesitate to react melodramatically.
You sighed, fiddling with one of the goat’s tails. “Oh Lou…”
He cringed beneath the weight of your words, laden with a heaviness that harshened his already guilty conscience.
“Wait, before you say no —” Lucifer felt his mouth running away from him. “Maybe you could think about it and then decide? Maybe after they’re born?”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“You’re expecting me to be its mother.” Your tone broke no room for argument.
Mauve eyelids drooped as Lucifer looked down in shame. “I — ”
“I wouldn’t make a good mom.” Your statement stopped him in his tracks.
Frustration simmered in Lucifer, slowly creeping into his expression as you continued, unrelenting. His posture went rigid, hands beginning to clench at his sides.
“It’s not that I don’t care. I probably care too much, actually.” You admitted.
It was true. Regardless of your paranoia and how justified it was or not, the sole basis for why you felt the need to argue in the first place —
(And wasn’t that just pathetic? You had feelings for the Epitome of Evil and had entertained being safe and happy with him)
— the reality was that you’d been a broken human being before this cosmic impossibility entered your life.
“I just don’t…” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be a good part of their life if I was in it.”
Your head whipped up, vision spotting when Lucifer blurted:
“You are the best part of my life.”
He looked angry. Furious. So much so that the sclera around his irises began to radiate a blood-red.
“Do you know how hard it is? To leave you? I have to convince myself every single time that you’ll still be here when I return!” Lucifer claimed. “And soon I won’t even be able to do that!”
“I don’t want to say goodbye forever! I… I l…”
You shuddered, stiffening in your seat. As soon as he realized, Lucifer’s display was cowed.
“Fuck, are you alright? I’m not — I don’t know what came over me!”
You shook your head. “No.”
“It stopped.” You whispered.
Lucifer’s grip trembled around your wrists. “Stopped?”
His breathless echo of your words drew your eyes up. You saw the storm brewing in his ruby eyes, as even though he waited for you to elaborate, a million thoughts pelting at his brain like hail.
“The pain stopped.” You said.
Your hands felt over the bump beneath your breasts, as if you might find the imaginary ‘off’ button and turn it back on.
It was ludicrous to think about, but you immediately wished for the agony that had been crippling you to return if it meant that this baby wasn’t… wasn’t…
Tears glistened in your eyes. Lucifer drew you to his chest in spite of the fear that was pulling his shoulders taut.
“Wh-what did you do today? Anything different?” The ex-Angel asked shakily.
His eyes scanned you up and down, lingering on the little dolls he’d just gifted you.
“No… n-no, nothing different.” You said. “I was in bed all morning, and th… then Cass was here and we had tea… we went out and walked a little bit outside.”
“Did you fall?” The King hedged.
You gasped, eyes widening. Instinctively your arms wrapped around your middle at the foreign feeling emanating from within.
“Did…! You fell??” He panicked, grabbing onto you like a life raft. “Where? On what?!”
His words drifted away as you were enveloped in the strangest surge of feeling you’d ever experienced.
You could only just muster up the energy to shake your head.
Sudden warmth.
And pressure.
A tiny flutter, one you’d never felt before.
You inhaled quickly yet deeply at the feeling of something pressing against your belly-button from the inside.
It made you grin, hands coming back to grab for Lucifer’s own and to pull them to your stomach. “They’re alive!”
The man’s jaw went slack, staring sightlessly for just as long as it took to soak up the sudden heat there. The baby took pity on its poor, trembling father and kicked again.
It was Lucifer’s turn to gasp, looking back and forth between you and the bump with dawning awe.
“It is!” He laughed, a tad bit hysterically. “It — they are alive!”
“… And… glowing…”
“You’re glowing!”
***
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blood on your lies; m.s.
pairing: marc spector x reader centric, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader
summary: after an argument with marc, you go missing. he tears himself apart trying to find you.
warnings: a dive into the mind of marc spector, angst, hurt with some comfort (i.e. jake and steven), kidnapping, vague descriptions of violence.
word count: 3.0k
notes: kind of a continuation of all the echoes in my mind, but can be read as a standalone. written as part of the @moonknight-events bingo! prompt: "insecure", I promise that not all my entries will be this sad lol
MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS
You’re not home yet.
It’s nearly been three hours. Marc paces the apartment like a caged animal, likely wearing the hardwood underneath his feet. Steven and Jake have run their course about how stupid he is, how he shouldn’t have said what he said, how he should’ve run after you the second you stepped out the door—
But jokes on them. There can be no harsher critic of Marc than Marc himself.
He checks his phone again in case you’ve responded to his many texts and calls, but there’s nothing. As far as he knows, you haven’t even seen any of it.
His temper still lingers under their skin, and he holds it tight with both hands; anger is easy. It’s easier than admitting that the peaks in his heartrate and the sweat on his brow is from anything other than his own self-flagellation.
Anger is familiar.
This, however? The waiting for you to walk through the door, or to give them any sign of life—so much of his sanity rests in the comfort of you being safe. Marc didn’t realize how lucky he was to not know what this was like. Now, he doesn’t know if he can ever forget it.
Jake’s voice is clipped. “Check again.”
They’re all on edge, and it’s terrible. Most of the time, at least one of them manages to keep a level head during stressful situations—usually Marc. Jake is prone to anger, Steven to anxiousness.
“Marc!” Steven yanks him out of his head, and his phone is in his hand without any memory of having taken it out of his pocket. He does a dutiful look through his notifications—nothing.
Three sets of disappointment and concern pile on top of one another and drags them all down so much further.
“Do…” Steven’s voice is quiet. Unsure. “Do you think something might’ve happened to her?”
There is no dissenting opinion, no devil’s advocate. Marc doesn’t try to calm his alters down, and only clenches his jaw.
You’ve never gone quiet on them like this. They’ve never let you leave the flat at night like this. They always opted to be the one to go take a walk because even in the middle of an argument, they wouldn’t risk your safety.
The lingering silence is Steven’s answer.
When the suit wraps itself around his body, the accompanying burst of power in his veins is suffocating. His wounds begin to numb over, but Marc barely notices. He hasn’t spared them a thought since you left.
The cool air does nothing to assuage him. Clouds blot out the sky, leaving nothing but a murky backdrop as he scales up the nearest building for a vantage point. A quick scan over the horizon—nothing. Not a hint of your silhouette under the streetlights, and a lump forms in his throat.
“Khonshu!”
A gust of wind signals the god’s arrival, who, even with a bird’s skull for a head, looks remarkably bored as Marc is clinging to any semblance of sanity. He must already know what’s going on but frustratingly just spreads out his hands, a silent question—what?
Marc grits his teeth. “Where is she?”
“Who?”
“Khonshu.” The name is a snarl on his lips.
He simply scoffs. “You have the gall to make demands? As if I need to be involved with your lover’s spat?”
“She’s not answering her phone.”
A lingering pause.
“She might be in danger,” Marc snaps, trying to get the god to understand even a fraction of the severity of the situation. They might bloody their hands night after night, staining London’s streets each time they go out on patrol, but it’s never enough. There are always more monsters to take their place, and the thought that you might have run into one of them—
Khonshu cocks his head. “Maybe she’s just finally had enough of you.”
Marc hates how that’s a possibility. Still, desperation crawls out of his throat. “Can you find her?”
Khonshu turns to look over the city, the silence stretching out between them. Whatever divinity he’s channeling, Marc isn’t privy to; all he can do is stand there like a useless dumbass and wait for some hint of you to show up on the god’s radar. Even if you had had enough and never want to see him again—he’ll swallow down that fate in stride as long as he knows that you’re safe.
When Khonshu finally breaks from searching, his head cocks slightly to the side. “Interesting.”
This is hardly the time for theatrics. “Do not—”
“I cannot find her,” the god admits. Not apologetic or ashamed, but—awed. “Where she is right now, her footsteps through the city—there is nothing, Marc Spector. There’s not even a trace of her in your own home.”
The blood rushes in his ears. His chest constricts until he can barely breathe at all. Marc barely manages to wrap his head around the information before Jake and Steven come roaring back again, shocked and confused.
“Stupid fucking bird—”
“She was right here!
“Let me out, pendejo, I swear—”
“What the bloody hell does he mean—”
“How?” Is all Marc manages to get out, every one of his senses on overload.
“Something is hiding her from me; whatever took your lover is very powerful indeed.”
Took. Not a single doubt about it now: something took you. Kidnapped you because Marc couldn’t keep it together for ten-fucking-minutes. Jake and Steven can prattle all they want in the background—his mission is clear.
“Where do we start?”
-
The flat seems even bleaker when they return, your absence all the more chilling. Steven clamours to take the reins with the obvious assumption that research is the first step they need to take, but that’s quickly dashed away when Khonshu returns with a name.
“Apep.” God of darkness and disorder, Steven supplies from their head. “He’s been cast away for eons, but there have always been those trying to get him to return.”
“It’s another cult?”
Jake swears under his breath. “Figures.”
Ignoring them, Marc presses on. “Who are we dealing with now?”
“If it were easy to find them, I would’ve done it already,” Khonshu bristles. “Apep is helping them—hiding them as they work. I will continue to do what I can.”
“Fine.”
The god disappears in a whirlwind of loose papers, and Marc switches gears. Steven might have the advantage in research, but tracking? The skills he’s honed as a Marine and as a mercenary wait for him like an old pair of shoes; the others can’t help but let him work in peace.
He finds some old tourist map that spans over the city and unfolds it across the dining table. There are only so many places you would’ve gone, so many routes you could’ve taken. London doesn’t become deserted at night and barring any divine intervention, kidnapping someone would cause a scene—you would have caused a scene, he thinks, imagining you fighting tooth and nail against your assailants, screaming for someone to help—
Marc closes his eyes, clenches his jaw. A wave of pain washes over him, and he languishes in it for a minute, not a moment more.
His eyes reopen, spots dancing across his vision as he analyzes the map again. The feeling has been sealed shut into a box, shoved into a corner of his mind. Steve would throw a fit about his mental state if it were any other time, lecturing him on coping mechanisms and compartmentalization, but there’s no time for him to feel sorry for himself.
He grits his teeth and refocuses his train of thought. If they’re up against a cult, then they probably would’ve sent multiple people to grab you. Would’ve had to lure you somewhere quiet if it was by force, or they could have convinced you to go with them somehow. Or threatened you. Or…
The more he gets into it, the more he feels himself detaching from the situation, piece-by-piece. The memory of you is like a minefield; it’s a testament to his will that he can recall anything about you without breaking down. What you were wearing—and not the look on your face—when you left. Your favourite park—and not how your hand fits perfectly into his as you walked down the paths—that you might have passed through.
He reduces you to intel, just another folder on his desk. It’s not unfamiliar to him. He wouldn’t have made it this far if he couldn’t take an objective approach to his work. But it’s different because it’s you, because the stakes include you, and when he looks up to try to ground himself again, he spots your favourite mug on the coffee table. Half-empty.
-
If Layla were here.
The words bounce around his head as Marc stares up at the ceiling. He didn’t mean it. Steven and Jake are both better with words than Marc, but he’s never loved you any less—he’s never wanted you to be anyone but yourself.
It’s been almost two days since you left, and it’s only now that he’s allowed himself to be corralled into bed. His grip of the hot seat is ironclad, however, which means that the body isn’t getting any sleep tonight. The sun will rise soon, and he’ll pick up his work right where he left off.
Quietly, from the back of his head: “Marc?”
“Could’ve taken the victim anywhere,” Marc murmurs, mind still whirring in the dark.
“’Victim’?” Steven’s voice shifts to be full of indignance. “How could you possibly call her that?”
“Ay, easy on him,” Jake pipes up. For Jake to immediately to jump to his defence means that Marc must be worse off than he thought, but he can’t bring himself to care. “How’s it going, hombre?”
“No sightings on any security cameras. Nothing reported to the cops.” Hours of his time—your time—summarized in a breath. His face remains blank. “I’m going to sweep the remaining areas tomorrow. Find some people who might’ve seen something.”
He’s been doing nothing but cross possibilities off his list. It’s barely any progress and his remaining leads are weak, but his resolve is as strong as ever.
“Nothing from Khonshu?”
“No.” Marc has no idea what the god is doing.
They lay in silence for a bit, listening to the maddening tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall. Anger is unsustainable, but Marc wishes that they’d return to yelling at him again. At least he knows what to do with that.
Instead, all he gets is Steven’s restrained tone: “Something has to change, you know.”
“Are you really telling me to go to therapy right now?”
“Can’t do much else.” For a moment, Steven’s bitterness resonates. There’s another conversation to be had here—one about their individual capabilities and protective natures—but Marc lets it rest for the night. He knows he’d be driven up the wall if their situation was reversed, if you were in danger and he had to rely on someone else to save you.
He still deflects. “Not the time for this.”
“Maybe not,” Steven concedes, “but you need help, Marc.”
Distantly, Marc recognizes that he’s always needed help. Even after reconciling with Steven and Jake, even after meeting you—the wounds are still there, despite how hard he’s tried to ignore them. He’s stubborn and self-destructive, not stupid.
“We’re with you, always,” Jake adds. Discomfort crawls under Marc’s skin from the supportive words, and he knows that his alters are well aware of it. It’s never stopped them, of course.
“We can talk about this after—after we save her.”
A general murmur of consensus. Marc quickly regains his footing, eager to move on from this line of conversation.
“I’ll find something. Or Khonshu will.” Steady and reassured—trying to convince them and himself. “We’ll get her back.”
Steven’s voice is small, even in the confines of their head. “But why would they take her in the first place?”
-
“He needs an avatar?” The body hasn’t slept in days. That void of feeling pulses with anger, desperation, fear—it simmers low in their gut, a torch passed along between them.
“Apep will need a vessel once they release him.”
“Here I thought one of his cultists would volunteer.”
Khonshu taps his staff against the ground thoughtfully. “They knew we would come after them, and we’re not the only ones.”
For the briefest of moments, Marc feels hopeful, like the odds aren’t as stacked against them as they thought. It disappears just as fast—Khonshu doesn’t deliver hope. The blood drains out of his face as he actually starts to consider the god’s words.
“If Apep possesses your precious lover, would you really be able to stop her? To take up arms against her?”
Khonshu leans in close then, hollowed eyes burrowing into him.
“Would you let others do the same?”
-
Over the next week, things begin to look up.
Someone’s girlfriend’s cousin says that they saw someone who looked like you walking down The Mall. There’s a fuzzy image of a car with no license plates. Khonshu catches the briefest hint of you on Westminster Bridge and follows you far, far east—it’s a mere grain of information that’s slipped through Apep’s power, but it’s enough for Marc.
They find the car abandoned in Dover, near the water. It rules out France—driving through the Eurochannel would’ve been the fastest route there, after all. Trying to take a public ferry would’ve been stupid with a captive, which means that they probably chartered or owned a boat.
The remaining pieces fall into place, and he can feel the anticipation from the others build in the background. Marc has led the charge so far with very few breaks to let Steven and Jake breathe a little. Steven misses you so much, he cries whenever he fronts. Jake has gone eerily quiet, and Marc knows what’s simmering underneath the surface; when the fighting starts, Jake will be called to action. His excitement is brutal.
It's all coming to an end soon. Laying on some dirt in the Norwegian countryside, shrouded in darkness, Marc’s never seen more stars in his life. If he’s right—and he is right—they’ll be bringing you to a nearby compound for the final step of their ritual. He couldn’t care less about the how or why. Come the morning, you’ll be here. Marc will get them inside. Jake will get to you. And then…
Marc will probably never be the partner that you deserve, and you never should’ve been subjected to his life. To sleepless nights and patching up his injuries and comforting him after nightmares that has him thrashing in the sheets—
But he can’t survive without you. It’s a simple little fact that gives him the power to move mountains; there are none bigger than the mess of his own head.
Exhaustion creeps up on him, and he can’t help but struggle against it. Fighting to keep his eyes open, his thoughts spill into the air. “Need to take care of her first.”
“Taking care of yourself is taking care of her,” Steven says gently. Have they had this conversation already? Marc’s been so singled in on this mission that everything else has fallen by the wayside. He can’t remember the last thing he ate, or what he’s wearing under the suit. The ground is the softest thing he’s ever felt.
If there’s any comparison to be made between you and Layla, it’s that he’s failed both of you. Maybe he could be different this time. Even if you decide that you want nothing to do with him after all this, he could still get help. He’ll have Steven and Jake. He’ll have himself and his scrappy resolve and the memories of this heart-aching pain, and maybe he’ll finally get better.
Marc lets his eyes close; the body needs rest for what’s to come. You don’t deserve any less than their best.
Just a few more hours.
-
Marc watches the fight from their headspace. Jake doesn’t miss a single shot and never so much as falters when one of them manages to land a hit. This is the longest break Marc’s gotten from fronting in a while, but he can’t bring himself to look away.
Jake loops their arm around the neck of cultist unlucky enough to be nearby, gripping his hair so hard Marc can nearly feel the strands through his fingers, feel it when Jake jerks their arm to the side and twists—
-
Your handlers left you alone in another room with nothing but a hard cot to curl into as you waited for them to retrieve you again. Locked inside but unbound—Marc hates how you startle when he breaks through the door.
Eyes wide, your mouth opens and closes multiple times without success. “You—you came.”
Marc wishes there weren’t so much surprise in your tone. Of course he came for you, it was never a choice for him—for any of them.
But clearly there was a part of you that thought he wouldn’t, wasn’t there? That he might just leave you in the clutches of some power-hungry cult because—because what, you’re not his ex-wife? Because you think he doesn’t love you?
The need to rectify that pierces his heart. He pulls you close, knuckles white in your shirt. “I love you.”
You shake in his arms. “Marc—”
“I love you.”
The words don’t stop; they fall from his lips like a prayer. Even as you weep, soaking the suit with your tears, he says it. I love you. I love you. I love you. In every variation, in every way—he’ll never let you believe otherwise again. He’ll say it over and over, work tirelessly to become the man you both deserve. For the rest of your lives. For the rest of time.
However long you’ll give him.
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🪷 hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time, with luke Hughes! his older sister and he just needs his sisters comfort especially after how the devils have played and how tired luke has looked
౨ৎ Ice cream and much-needed hugs
﹕─┈ pairings ( Luke Hughes x older sister! reader )
°. — summary ( Luke’s been having a tough time, and his big sister just wants to cheer him up ! )
°. — details ( g; little bit of angst, some fluff. w; none that I know of wc; 2.2k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them right without saying any words when they’re having a hard time
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( LUKEY AHHH MY LOVE ! I love Luke sm if you guys didn’t know !!! I love writing sibling dynamics so muchhhh so thank you for sending the wonderful request !!! I absolutely loved writing it, I really tried to make it angsty but i think I’m terrible at writing angst, I’m sorry if the ending is kinda rushed, I was struggling sooo bad with the dialogue . . . also I of course had to add the love of my Like Brock boeser in it because like DUHHH I am so down for writing more for a older Hughes sister, I’m thinking she’s like 25??? I really hope you guys love it !!! Let me know if you want me to write more for older sister Hughes! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s !!! )
1k celly masterlist main masterlist nhl masterlist
There were a lot of upsides that came with being the oldest sibling, there were of course a lot of downsides too . . . but you chose to ignore those and focus on the upsides. Like being able to stay up later while your brothers had to go to sleep, having a good sense of leadership and responsibility, being able to read your brothers like a picture book.
So, you knew right away that something was wrong with your youngest brother as you watched him play in the last period. You could see it clearly in his demeanor and the way he was skating, he was starting to overthink things, he had gotten into his own head. You of course had seen the way the public and media was shitting on your brother because he's made a few bad plays, and it broke your heart to see how defeated he looked sitting on that bench.
Jack had voiced his worries about Luke to you over the phone a few days ago when you were out with Quinn and your boyfriend brock. Even with hundreds of miles between you and Luke you could tell something was bothering him, that's why your planned trip to visit your younger brothers this weekend was even more meaningful.
You were leaning against the wall as you waited for your brothers to leave the locker room, your focus was down on your phone as you texted your boyfriend. A smile on your lips, you missed him dearly even though you have only been gone for almost two days. “Sis!” you heard the familiar sound of jack's voice call your name. You look up from your phone and smile as Jack rushes over to you and pulls you into a tight hug.
“You played so well jack” You mumbled into his neck, cursing at the curse of being the oldest but the shortest. Jack smiles and gives you one more squeeze before letting go and taking a step back, even though they lost he wasn't going to let that bring him down from the fact that you watched him play in person for the first time in a few months.
“Thank you, luke should be out soon, he's just being a little hard on himself” Jack sighed as he glanced back at the locker room entrance, there was only so much he could say to let luke know that he's doing okay. You let out a sigh and nodded, already getting an image of a pouty luke. Your eyes lit up with an idea, as a memory from years ago popped up in your mind. You smile at Jack as you ask “Do you think you can get a ride home? And can I have the keys to your truck?”
“Uh yeah why?” Jack questioned with a raised brow as he pulled out his keys from his front pocket and handed them to you. You smiled gratefully and grabbed the keys and slid them into your front pocket with your lip gloss. “I have an idea on how to cheer luke up.”
“Well good luck, cause I can't handle a grumpy luke anymore '' Jack jokes as he pats you on the shoulder, happy that you were now here to save him from the grumpy luke. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest as you look at jack “I remember saying the same thing about you.”
“Have fun! I'm gonna go catch up with nico "Jack grins as he chooses to ignore your words, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before rushing off down the hallway, turning to look at you quickly and shouting out an ‘i love you’ before turning the corner and leaving your sight. You look forward just in time to see Luke walk out of the locker room, well more like trudge. His steps were heavy, and you can see the exhaustion on his face. His shoulders were sagged as he carried his backpack, he was changed out of his suit and into some sweats and a hoodie. He looked like a sad cat. When Luke noticed you, his heavy steps turned into long strides as he moved towards you.
Before you could open your mouth to greet your brother, he was throwing his arms over shoulders and nestling his head in the crook of your head, for a much-needed hug. Your eyes widened at how tight Luke was holding you, but you close your eyes and wrap your arms around your little brother, softly rubbing his back with one of your hands. Luke closed his eyes and tried to shut off his mind as he felt himself melt into the comfort and safety of your arms.
You rested your chin on his shoulder as you whispered, “You, okay?” you felt him nod yes but the both of you knew he was lying. Luke let out a deep breath and reluctantly pulled away from the hug when his back was starting to hurt from leaning down for so long. You smiled up at him, brushing some of his curls out of his face as he asked, “Where's jack?”
“Oh, he's getting a ride home with nico, so come on lukey I'm taking you out tonight!” You excitedly pull-out Jack's keys and wave them while your other hand is grabbing Luke's arm and dragging him along you as you make your way down the hallway. Luke gave you an unimpressed look even though on the inside he was excited to spend more time with you “I’m not old enough to go bar hopping.”
“Is that really all you think I do in Vancouver?” You gasped dramatically as you pretended to be hurt from his words. You have one embarrassing experience when you go bar hopping, and now that's all anyone remembers, you think with a roll of your eyes. Luke felt the corner of his lips lift into a smile at your dramatics, Jack definitely got that from you.
“Besides I'm a good big sister, I wouldn't provide my underage brother with alcohol, at least in public” you joked as you wrapped your arm around Luke's, holding on tight. Luke chuckles and slips his hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, comforting silence coming across them as they make their way to Jack's truck.
“Need help? '' Luke asked sarcastically as he put on his seatbelt, his eyes on you as you struggled slightly to get into the truck. You gave him a quick glare before closing the door and putting on your seatbelt, quickly starting the truck, wanting to leave the arena before the traffic got even worse. You turned up the volume on the radio, an unfamiliar country song filling up the silent car. Luke let out a heavy sigh and relaxed into the seat, looking out the window and all the passing lights.
The car ride to your choice of destination was filled with mostly silence between you and Luke, just enjoying the music and the faint sound of the world around them. You could see that Luke had a lot on his mind and you didn't want to pressure him into talking about it, so you stayed quiet, knowing that he would tell you when he's ready. Luke couldn't help but replay every single one of his mistakes he's made in the past few games, remembering every tweet he saw from disappointed ‘fans’.
Luke could feel himself become more upset and discouraged the more he thought about it, so Luke quickly glanced at you before looking back out the window. Luke was slightly confused on how well you knew your way around the town, he was curious on where you were taking him. But he gave up on asking after the third time you told him it was a surprise.
Luke’s eyes widen with excitement when he sees where you're pulling into, it was an old ice cream shop that he had driven by many times, but never had the chance to try it. You smiled and turned off the car and grabbed your wallet from your purse and gave Luke a big smile “Come on, I'll even let you get 3 scoops!”
You laugh as you watch Luke quickly leave the truck and rush around the front of the truck to open your door. You giggle and take Luke's hand that he held out for you, doing your best to do a posh British accent “Thank you kind sir” Luke smiles and closes the door for you, following you across the parking lot, his spirit was lifted already.
“This is so good; how did you find this place?” Luke asked you before he took another lick of his chocolate ice cream, of course having a waffle cone. And despite you saying he could get 3 scoops, he only got 2. You look away from your bowl of your favorite ice cream and to your brothers whose focus was up at the stars. The two of you were sitting on the tailgate of the truck, neither of you realizing that your legs were swinging in unison.
“Oh, I found it the last time I came to visit, and you and Jack were at practice, I've been craving it since” you answered him as you looked back on the day. Luke nods and continues to eat his ice cream. Silence came across the two of you again, Luke didn't know what to say and you could see the way his shoulders became tense that he was thinking of something. You had a pretty good idea what he was thinking about, hockey.
“You played really good tonight luke” you broke the silence, and you watched as his shoulders sagged and a frown came across his lips as he looked down at his lap. You hated seeing how discouraged he looked, this wasn't like luke. He never let it get to him like this before, but it's different . . . it's the NHL, it's his dream. He whispered bitterly “We lost.”
“You still played really good, i'm really proud of you luke” you vowed as you gently nudged his knee with yours, your tone proving how genuine you were. You were a good big sister you liked to think, so you would never have a favorite brother . . . but your little brother Luke will always have a special place in your heart. The little brother who would listen to you rant all about your school drama while the other two were doing God knows what, the little brother who fully trusted you to drive him to get ice cream when you first got your license while Quinn and jack swore you would kill them. Your sweet little brother Luke who was far too good for this world.
Luke let out a heavy breath and his eyes started to water as he listened to you, he heard others say they were proud of him, but it was different, more meaningful coming from you. Unlike you he made it very clear that you're his favorite sibling, that you always have been. The big sister that he always knew would have his back no matter what, the big sister that always was on his side. He looked up from his lap and turned his head to look at you to see you were already smiling at him. “Thank you sissy.”
“Not just for the compliment” Luke quickly spoke before you could, fully turning his body to face you, thankfully he had eaten most of his ice cream, so he didn't have to worry about it dripping. Luke never really liked talking about his emotions or just having deep conversations in general, but he didn't have to worry about any of that with his big sister who always made it clear that he could talk to you no matter what. Luke continues speaking “But for taking me here and for being here for me, for always being here for me.”
“I'll always be here lukey” You promised as you set your ice cream bowl next to you before leaning over and pulling Luke into a much-needed hug. Luke smiles and closes his eyes, hugging you with one arm while the other holds his cone away from you, not wanting to get any ice cream on you. Luke lets himself melt into the hug; he really didn't want you to leave. You couldn't help tearing up as you think of Luke and everything he's been through and how strong he is, you really are so proud of your little . . . well not so little brother. You sniffled and whispered, “God why did you have to grow up so fast.”
“Trying to catch up with you, you old lady” Luke jokes, wanting to lift the mood, he really hated seeing you cry, and he knew you so well that he was sure you were going to. A loud laugh leaves his lips as you pull away from the hug and dramatically move away from him. Despite his words you smiled as you listened to luke laugh, it was the type of laugh that made you want to join in. You pulled the keys out of your pocket and slap them into luke's hand before jumping off the tailgate of the truck and snatching your ice cream “That's it your driving home.”
Luke continued to laugh and watch as you stomp over to the passenger seat, the famous Hughes pout on your lips. Luke quickly gets off the bed of the truck and puts up the tailgate shouting a cheeky remark that only made him laugh harder at the quick glare you sent him.
“Thank God! Brock drives you around so much I'm pretty sure you forgot how to drive”
°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
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How they are Handling your Disappearance.
Hello all, get ready for some more Nightbringer Angst! This is a little drabble (bullet point style) of how I think the "Present Day Demon Brothers" are handling your sudden disappearance. Honestly I hate thinking too deeply about NB, it brings me to tears. I can't even imagine the pain and anxiety the brothers are feeling without knowing where their beloved human went and why. Anyways, grab your tissues and I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated!
Taglist: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @sassykattery @amberrskiies @obey-me-posts @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @siofrantic
Part 2 : Side Characters
Part 3: MC Returns
Rose divider by @/firefly-graphics
Fill out my form if you'd like to be tagged in my work!
They’ll always remember the exact day and time you disappeared. It was their day off from RAD, and you had been in the Devildom since Solomon had brought you by for some training sessions. You practically begged the sorcerer to allow you to visit the House of Lamentation, and Solomon happily obliged. You really didn't have to convince him too much, though. The brothers were so happy and surprised to see you again so soon, and they had planned on taking you out for dinner that evening. Except you never showed. They spent hours searching for you. Those hours easily turned into days. Then the days turned into weeks. There was no trace of you left behind. Where did you go?
💙Lucifer💙
He’s terrified. He doesn’t know why or how you disappeared, but he feels responsible.
He spends every waking moment looking for signs of you. Trying to piece together what or who took you from him.
Knows he has to be strong for the rest of their brothers.
But when he can no longer feel your bond with you through the pact, he feels the unbearable weight of despair crack through his usual stoic demeanor.
He cries. He hasn’t cried like this since their fall.
Lucifer hardly sleeps. His brothers notice the bags under his eyes. How he no longer cares what he looks like in front of them.
He becomes distant again, shutting himself in his room or study.
If you thought his hatred for Solomon was strong before, it’s infinitely worse now.
He doesn’t know who else to blame, so the silver haired sorcerer becomes his reasoning for your disappearance.
The eldest demon has his hands around Solomon’s throat, Mammon and Beel having to pull him off.
“Lucifer are ya nuts?! We gotta have him alive if we have any hope in finding MC!” Mammon had scolded him as he became limp in Beel’s strong grip.
Solomon promised he’d bring you back.
He better not dare to show his face back here until you are with him, safe and sound.
💛Mammon💛
The normally confident and self assured demon becomes silent. Angry. Afraid.
Aside from their initial searching for you, he doesn’t leave your room.
He can’t feel your pact with him anymore, and it sends him spiraling.
He buries himself into your pillows, inhaling your lingering scent.
It’s faint, but he takes what he can get
His eyes are puffy and red from crying, and he can’t stand sitting around doing nothing.
He goes out every night, flying over the Devildom, searching.
When he can’t, Mammon sends his familiars out searching for you too, exploring the areas that he can’t reach.
The ravens are good at finding things, and if they can’t find you, then he’s screwed.
Each time they come back with nothing.
Occasionally, they bring him Grimm they’ve found or a valuable piece of treasure.
But you’re the only treasure he gives a shit about right now.
When he goes to retreat back to his room, he runs into Lucifer.
He looks terrible.
But Mammon can’t blame him. He probably noticed his swollen face and unwashed hair, too.
He sends you texts every day. Even if you don’t get them.
Normally he’d be grossed out by his own sappiness, but he doesn’t care.
He needs you.
MC, wherever you are, just know I love you. So goddamn much. Please come back.
I miss you.
I hope you’re thinking of me, too.
🧡Leviathan🧡
Leviathan always told you he wouldn’t know what he’d do without you.
But he really didn’t want to really experience what life would be without you!
Is this some cruel joke?!
It’s got to be! One of his alternate universe video games went wrong again right?
Except it isn’t. You’re actually gone, and he actually has no idea what to do with himself.
He cries. Alot.
To mask his tears from his brothers, he spends a lot of time in his fish tank with Henry 2.0.
Don’t get him wrong, he loves Henry, but he longs for you. His soulmate.
He sends Lotan to search the Devildom seas, far and wide. He had asked him to listen for any information of sightings of you.
But so far, there’s been nothing. No word. No trace of you.
He lays curled up in his bathtub, a laptop balanced on his lap as he watches anime to try and distract himself from you.
But oh no, is this your favorite episode?! He turns it off, shoving the laptop away and fresh tears falling down his cheeks.
I’m so useless, he thinks. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and I can’t even find a human!
Levi’s self depreciative behavior gets worse.
He blames himself for not being with you when you disappeared.
He begins picking at his skin and nails, an old, nervous habit resurfacing from back when he first fell into the Devildom.
His brothers do what they can to reassure him, but it’s no use.
He needs you. Please come back home soon, MC.
💚Satan💚
Satan’s temper tantrums are back.
He didn’t ever think he’d revert back to this, but now that you’re gone….
Accidentally lost his temper and in a wrath filled frenzy blew through the wall in the living room. Lucifer threatened to tie him up.
Normally the prideful demon would have just done it, but something about his older brother was different nowadays.
He feels it too, he thought. The pacts are gone.
Spends sleepless nights in the library reading any book he can find about curses.
Did you become invisible? He had no other explanation.
Was it the work of some demon on the street who decided they didn’t like you that day?
He’s frustrated because he feels like he doesn’t know anything.
He knows nothing of your sudden disappearance
Like Mammon, he sends his cats out looking for you. Any sign of you.
But they also bring back nothing but a dead mouse here and there.
Normally he’d be delighted by their gift to him, but it’s lost its appeal.
When he’s worried about you, nothing else matters.
Lucifer did allow him to keep a cat in the house though.
Also uses his personal connections from all three realms to look for you.
But it’s no use.
When he’s not in the library, he’s shut away in his room.
His brothers think for a moment that he’s disappeared as well, but they find him asleep on his bed, his cheeks tear stained and a book on his chest.
Please come home, MC. I need you.
💖Asmodeus💖
Asmo’s love for you rivals the love he feels for himself.
Now that you are gone, he feels he has no love left to give for anyone.
He feels empty.
The Avatar of Lust takes pride in his appearance, always making sure he’s presentable and looking his best.
But not knowing where you are and if you are safe or not is driving him mad.
His brothers haven’t seen him this way in a long time.
Asmo’s eyes are puffy and red, his cheeks and nose raw and swollen from the endless tears.
He spends hours in the bath, thinking of anything he may have said or done to cause you to leave him like this.
He takes up the habit of sleeping a lot. He wasn’t sure how Belphie could do it all the time. But now he understands.
Asmo can also throw a good temper tantrum.
The day he realized he could no longer feel your pact with him sent him over the edge.
But afterwards he felt embarrassed, even though his brothers will never blame him for expressing his feelings for you.
When Solomon leaves to go find you, he feels hopeful, putting all the trust he has in your master to find you.
But it also hurts. He hasn’t left Solomon’s side since your disappearance, taking comfort in the bond he still has with him.
He’ll never take it for granted again.
MC, I can’t take this! If you can hear me, please come home, my lost little lamb… I love you…
❤️Beelzebub❤️
Beel is quiet.
He’s another one that feels responsible for your disappearance.
His heart is aching, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Thankfully, he has his twin by his side to reassure him. But it’s not enough.
He needs to know where you’ve gone.
He needs to save you.
Beel’s appetite is all over the place. One minute, he can’t stop eating and the next, he’s not hungry at all.
His brothers got really concerned when he didn’t eat for 2 whole days.
The only hunger he feels is the need to figure out where you went.
Not only is he worried about you, he’s worried for his brothers.
He knows they are suffering too, especially with the noticeable absence of your pact.
Beel has always been protective of them, after all.
He stops going to the gym. He doesn’t feel like it.
Instead, he cuddles up in bed with Belphie, holding him close with tears silently rolling down his cheeks.
Beel you’re squeezing too hard, he hears his twin mumble. But he doesn’t care.
He’s almost lost his brother before, and now your disappearance has him terrified.
Please, don’t take anyone else away from me.
I love you, MC, please wherever you are, stay safe…
💜Belphegor💜
Belphie’s temper is a short fuse. More than usual, anyways.
He doesn’t want to talk to anyone but Beel.
He tries to retreat to the attic to get some peace and quiet from his brothers losing their collective shit.
But he ends up drowning in a wave of memories as soon as he walks through the door.
He collapses on the bed and hugs his cow pillow to his body as he sobs, his body curling in on itself.
Dammit MC, look at what you do to me…you need to come home…
When he isn’t sleeping, he helps soothe the rest of his brothers to sleep. He sees their dreams, knows the thoughts that are keeping them awake.
He wants to help, but figures this could be the only way he knows how.
He doesn’t feel your presence at all, though.
That must mean you aren’t anywhere nearby, or even in the same Realm. He knows your pact with him is gone.
He felt it break the day you disappeared.
But sometimes he feels a flutter of something in the place where the mark used to be.
He can’t explain why.
Belphie often finds himself slipping into bed with his twin at night.
They were inseparable before, but even more so now that you aren’t around.
I can’t lose him too, I have to stay by his side, he thinks. He snuggles into Beel’s chest as his brother holds him close, afraid he might disappear too at any second.
He misses the days when you were nestled comfortably right between the two of them.
You need to come back MC, you’re our missing piece.
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How would Ace react if his girlfriend, who he is so attached to, doesn't want any physical contact because it is so terribly warm in the middle of summer. But in the winter y/n clings to him all the time because it's so cold and he's practically a walking heater. [Hope you like the idea😄]
this is cute! hope you like the answer :) sorry it took so long!
touch
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - the ask above
warnings - none
Ace hates the warmer months. He swears summer and spring are his worst enemies, solely because they deprive him of the one thing he needs and wants the most. Your touch. He becomes a pouty baby during these seasons, because your need for his warmth decreases and your desire to hold him grows less and less because of how hot it already is.
"Aceeee," you groaned, rolling away from the commander in your shared bed. You were too hot, and as much as you loved him...he was making it worse.
He grumbled and tried to pull you back, "No, don't go anywhere."
"It's too hot!" You complained, trying to ease out of his grip.
Ace sighed and let you go, watching you as he opened his eyes. He knew his body heat could be too much for you in the warm months, but he still wished he could pull you close and snuggle you.
"This isn't fair," he whined, rolling onto his back.
You giggled at his childish reaction, "You're the one who ate the devil fruit babe."
"But-but-"
"No buts," you continued teasing. "Now you're too hot."
He grinned slyly, "That's not a bad thing."
Your eyes widened, "Oh my god, Ace!" You laughed and swatted his arm. "You're such an idiot."
"A lonely idiot," he complained, pouting.
You rolled your eyes and laughed, "Big baby."
But it's not just when you're sleeping that he misses your touch. It's also during the day, when he just wants to hug you and hold you, that you can't stand his heat and end up pushing him away.
"I'm sorry babe, but you're overheating my body!"
Cue another pout, "Can I at least hold your hand?"
"Fine."
You took his hand in yours, squeezing it gently to remind him that you didn't want to push him away like this, that you loved his clinginess and his touch but you were just too hot to take it these days. It was a silent reminder that you still loved him, and still wanted to hold him in some way. That made him feel much better.
Now, the colder months are a completely different story.
They might just be Ace's favourite time of the year. It's when he can be truly useful, and also when you cling to him the most. And he absolutely he adores it, because Ace would die for your touch.
You came out of your shared room one morning expecting more heat, but instead a harsh blast of cold greeted you. You shivered, hugging yourself and frowning as you immediately sought out your human heater boyfriend.
"Aww baby are you cold?" The fiery commander smirked, hands on his hips. His eyes were brighter now, mostly because he knew you needed him now.
"S-stop te-teasing," you managed, teeth chattering as the weather only worsened. "Just h-hug me al-already."
"As you wish."
Ace brought you close to him, wrapping his thick arms around you, shielding you from the cold. His body oozed heat, and you immediately relaxed and sighed contentedly as you melted into his embrace. You closed your eyes, leaning more against him as his body temperature helped even out yours.
"Thanks babe."
He smiled and kissed the top of your head. He held you like that for as long as you wanted to be held, or rather for as long as he could get away with before someone called either you or him for something. You followed him around, going wherever he went because you wanted to stay close to your personal source of heat. Ace had no issue with this, in fact he loved that you clung to him like your lifeline.
"It's so cold," you whimpered later that night, when you were both lying in bed. You were shivering, and no amount of clothes or blankets were helping. "I hate this."
"Come here," Ace pulled you against his body, "Just relax, baby." He rubbed soothing circles onto your stomach as he engulfed you in his strong arms, keeping you against his warm chest.
"Mhmm, this is better," you smiled, cuddling up to him more.
Ace couldn't agree more.
Even during off-ship endeavors, you would stick to Ace's side and grip his arm while leaning into him or he would have his arm around you, keeping you tucked into his side safely and warmly. He was always happy to do so, and dropped whatever he was doing whenever you came to him and complained you were cold.
Ace doesn't really believe in god, but he praises whatever divine being created the cold seasons and curses the one that created the warm ones.
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heyooo!! can I request Izuku when his fingers accidentally brush against the readers??? And they grab his hand and he gets all flustered <333 sorry I just can’t get this scenario out of my head!! He’s so silly!! /pos
a/n omf i cant believe my izuku readers r still alive… i havent caught up in the manga since forever so if theres anything wrong, thats why LOL i missed izuku so much T__T, wc 1k
Izuku is guarding a terrible, terrible secret. One that he wouldn’t even admit if his classmates roped him into an intense game of Truth or Dare, unless drunk, probably. Which will never happen.
Class 1-A Dorms roars with laughter. Izuku swears he can feel the building shaking as the students occupying the vast space of the living room burst into another fit of cackles. The other building could probably hear it, and they’d get a noise complaint the next morning, from 1-B, no less.
They’re watching a movie. Comedy, perhaps; Izuku wasn’t paying much attention when they were picking, but he could pick up the clues of what the characters on screen are saying, his classmates jostling his shoulders as they giggle, and, of course, the same mp3 laugh track that plays for the rest of the film.
Izuku is tucked into the far corner of the couch, squished between Todoroki and Uraraka. Uraraka laughs with her whole body, her head thrown back as she claps in delight. Todoroki laughs once, a huff of amusement, just a curl of his lips.
And on the floor, nestled between where Izuku dutifully keeps his knees spread so as to not hurt, sits you—the whole reason why Izuku is struggling to focus on the movie in the first place.
He’s eternally grateful that keeping the lights dim while watching films is a thing, or else everyone would’ve long noticed his burning face. He looks like a strawberry, and feels like a strawberry left under the sun. Todoroki had cast him a glance, vague amusement playing on his stoic face. Izuku wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in there forever.
“Sorry, Izuku,” you say, loud enough to be heard over the film but quiet enough that it’s only shared between the two of you. He wills his legs not to jump up in surprise. “Can I just lay for a bit? I’m getting kinda sleepy.”
“No problem,” Izuku says after a beat, managing to not fuck up and stammer embarrassingly in front of you. Or should it be behind you?
You tilt your head upward, meeting his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Y-Yes. I mean, you’re welcome.” Dammit.
Izuku breathes a sigh of relief when your attention is promptly stolen by the laugh track, and Kaminari yelps a cackle.
He catches something from the corner of his eye, paling at the sight of a terrifying expression on Uraraka’s face. If devils had round eyes and rounder cheeks, smiling in a way that fits their nature, it would be a picture of evilness Uraraka is portraying at this moment.
He squints inquisitively at her.
Uraraka grins. “Your hand,” she whispers, then does something he can’t quite figure out.
Confused, Izuku shows her his hand, scars and all.
Uraraka looks unimpressed, and Izuku wilts. He can’t hear her properly, with the movie picking up pace and sound effects. Uraraka makes a grand demonstration of splaying her hand and resting it on the crown of her hair, then gestures wildly at your head.
As soon as understanding dawns on Izuku, his face feels drained of blood, horrified. “No,” he mouths desperately. “No.” Again, for good measure.
“Yes,” she mouths back, taking matters into her own hands by quite literally taking his hand and moving to place it on your head. But he panics and jostles your hands resting on his lap instead.
Izuku pales. The characters in the movie shriek. “Sorry,” he squeaks out, then glares at Uraraka, who’s holding in her laughter.
He heaves a heavy breath when you cast him a curious glance.
“You—Sorry, I, my hand—No, I mean, I didn’t mean to do that,” he blurts uselessly, waving his arms around in a desperate attempt to hide his face, which is surely the same shade as anything red.
What the hell, his brain hisses. Izuku, you idiot, you’ve done it now.
He watches with bated breath as you take his hand instead of laughing at his face. He watches as you lace your fingers with his instead of seeing your face scrunch up in disgust. His heart flutters, threatening to fly off his chest and into the shared warmth of your hands.
Instead, he deflates like a red balloon, his mouth forming words that sound like nitpicking vowels from a series of keyboard smashes.
“I don’t mind,” you say. “Relax. I want you to hold me.”
It’s a little hard to relax when your words float around in his mind like a broken record.
Once the movie ends and the noise subsides, his classmates collectively keep their messes—namely, the thrown popcorn and spilled soda on the carpet—and return to their rooms. But Izuku can’t do that, not when he has a Y/N who is still resting against his lap.
He waves goodbye at Uraraka and Iida, the former making kissy faces and Iida solemnly sending him his prayers.
Izuku resigns himself to his fate, sighing softly. Well, despite everything, he likes the fact that you never once let go of his hand.
“I like your hands,” you say, as if answering his thoughts. Izuku jolts and can’t help it because he thought you were asleep.
“You… do?”
Izuku thinks his hands are ugly, scars running all the way to his shoulders like protruding veins. He hates seeing it.
“I do,” you say, squeezing it tenderly. “I’m glad it’s still together and working after all you’ve done to it. I like them.”
Izuku bites his bottom lip, harsh enough that it’s nearly drawing blood, lest he says something stupid like, ‘I like you’. He doesn’t, thankfully. Yet it’s there, on the tip of his tongue. If you asked him what’s on his mind, he would’ve said it.
But he guards his secret a little while longer and hopes that someday he’ll be able to share it with you.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, finding the courage to squeeze your hand. Much to his delight, you do it back and smile. He’s melting. “Can we, uhm, stay here for a bit?”
You laugh, rising from your position. Izuku nearly panics and holds you down because he doesn’t want to lose this moment just yet. But he finds himself stunned when you settle beside him and rest your head against his shoulder instead. “Sleep,” you say. “We’ll stay here for a bit.”
“O-Okay, yeah,” he whispers, reaching for your hand once more.
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When MC Drives For Them on a Road Trip
THE DEMON BROTHERS
1.7k words | NSFW | gn!Reader
Content warnings: Mostly lots of fluff and family dynamics, minor cursing. Some suggestive content but nothing explicit.
A/N: I think they'd appreciate the novelty of MC driving them on a road trip in the human world. I think they'd find it attractive too.
LUCIFER
He offers to drive if you don't want to because his main priority is that you enjoy yourself.
If you insist on driving, he wants to sit in the passenger seat, and he'll play play rock-paper-scissors if that's what it takes.
If you need directions, he reads them off your phone for you instead of using the GPS.
He adjusts the trip so you drive along the scenic routes instead of the busy freeways—it's nicer for sight-seeing.
(And it's a convenient excuse to spend more time with you if you're the only ones in the car.)
He won't admit it, but he's concerned about the other terrible drivers out there so he'll choose whatever route avoids the busiest highways if he can.
He tells you that you can listen to whatever music you like, but he’s very happy if you choose to play something more suited to his tastes.
If you place your free hand across the gear shift, he'll lace his fingers with yours, even if his brothers in the back seat whine or tease him about it.
If you go on an evening drive together, there's a very good chance you'll end up making out after he drags you into his lap.
He likes to get you worked up, and then he smirks when you drive back faster than necessary.
MAMMON
He's willing to drive for you too, even though the others will complain about it.
They tell you that he's so reckless when he drives, but you've never seen anything like that in your experience.
(He drives slower and safer because you're in the car with him.)
He's also willing to play rock-paper-scissors for the front seat, and he’ll start offering bribes to whoever won if they’ll let him have their spot.
He turns the volume up if you want to listen to music in the car—he says it helps drown out the losers stuck in the back seat.
He usually puts on the playlist you made together so it's the perfect blend of both your favourite music.
If any of his brothers are in the car, he doesn't hesitate to offer you his hand across the gear shift.
If you're alone, he'll rest his hand on your thigh or he'll stretch his arm across the back of your seat.
He's too distracted chatting with you to offer to help with directions, so you'll need your GPS for that.
He won't complain about your driving at all—he might even encourage you to drive faster.
He will 100% will make out with you in the car, and if he's feeling particularly riled up, he might ask you to ride him in the front seat, or he'll fuck you against the hood.
LEVIATHAN
He doesn't mind sitting in the back seat—the glare from the windshield can be annoying if he wants to play his handheld.
If he's not watching a livestream on his phone, he might request to listen to playlist of his favourite anime opening/ending songs.
(You already have it on your phone, sometimes you listen to it when you miss him.)
He thinks it's hot cool that you know how to drive, but he won't admit it.
He might joke that it's a good thing you're a better driver in the human world than you are playing Devil Kart.
If you pretend to be offended, he gets flustered and stutters when he tries to apologize.
Depending on how well he slept the night before your trip, he might doze off beside you even though he tries to stay awake.
He spends half the trip glancing at you nervously and wiping his clammy hands on his pant leg before he clears his throat dramatically and holds his hand palm-up over the gear shift.
He stares out the window and pretends he doesn't care what you do, but you can tell he's smiling when you take his hand in yours.
He's too anxious to initiate anything in the car, but he will fall to pieces if you suggest he gets in the back seat.
He turns beet-red when you tell him it'll be more comfortable to blow him or ride him back there, and he fumbles with his seatbelt in his haste to switch seats.
SATAN
He would prefer to sit in the front seat with you, but he won't throw too much of a fit if he can't.
The exception being: if Lucifer ends up sitting next to you, Satan will sit behind him and kick the back of his seat throughout the entire trip.
He feigns innocence when you glance at him over your shoulder, but you hear his quiet grumble about how Lucifer started it (even when he didn't).
It's so much worse if Lucifer, Satan and Belphie are in the car together.
Lucifer insists that their antics are too disruptive for you and it usually devolves into him warning them to behave or else.
All you have to do is threaten to withhold cuddles/napping together/kissing and they (mostly) behave themselves after that.
Satan prefers to keep the radio volume low because he'd rather talk to you than listen to music.
He brought a book with him, but more often than not it ends up ignored on his lap while you chat for most of the drive instead.
He'll reach for your hand if it's free, or he'll rest his hand on your thigh if it's not.
He's the one climbing into the back seat and trying to drag you back there with him as soon as you've parked the car somewhere partially secluded.
ASMODEUS
He likes sitting in the front seat where the sun is bright and warm, and he likes being able to stretch out and relax.
He buys you new sunglasses, even if you have your own.
They match the new ones he bought himself, and he likes to compliment how good they look on you.
(He gets annoyed if Mammon any of his brothers try to wear them, he bought them for you.)
He'll sing along with whatever music is playing.
He gets a little flustered when you compliment his singing, so don't be surprised if he scrolls through your playlist and croons out a sappy love ballad to get you worked up in retaliation.
If you're not listening to music, he scrolls through his social media feeds and updates you on the latest gossip.
He's also taking lots of pictures and videos of human world scenery and neat things he sees along the way.
He takes a lot of pictures of you, too.
He likes to hold your hand while you drive.
If he feels particularly affectionate, he tells you quietly how much he appreciates spending quality time with you like this.
He's not as fond of car quickies—a heated make out session to tease you is as far as he normally pushes things.
After a long drive, he's more interested in drawing a warm bath for both of you so you can relax properly after being cramped in the car all day.
Besides, he'd rather take his time when he shows his appreciation for you between soft sheets on a comfortable bed.
BEELZEBUB
You basically give him the passenger seat by default because you know he'd be too cramped in the back seat.
He feels bad if the others whine about it, and he'll offer to switch seats if that means they'll stop bothering you.
Of course, that's very nice of him to offer, but no, they can deal with it.
He feels bad chatting with you too much because he thinks it's distracting, but he's more talkative if you reassure him it's fine.
He packed a lot of snacks for the trip, but most of them are in the backseat or the trunk.
If he keeps them in the front seat, they won't last very long.
If you see a farmer's stand along a country road, you pull over so he can look at whatever's for sale.
You figure buying fresh fruit or home-baked goods is better than buying junk at a gas station, and Beel appreciates the snack variety.
He doesn't buy a lot of souvenirs on these types of trips because he spends a lot of money on buying food to share with you instead.
Trips with Beel take a bit longer because of food-related detours, but the others enjoy them too even if they don't want to admit it.
They like knowing you're well-fed and rested if you're driving, and they can trust Beel take care of you in that way.
If he's feeling frisky, Beel's more likely to press you against the hood or side of the car if he wants to kiss you (or more).
He still prefers to you to bed properly once you've both had a shower and a snack together.
BELPHEGOR
He won't put up much of a fight for the front seat since the back is more comfortable for napping.
If it's just the two of you, he sits up front with a neck pillow (that you bought him), and you keep the music volume low if he's napping.
He's interested in the new places you explore together, and he likes picking up little souvenirs from your travels.
You offer to stop if he sees an interesting tourist attraction so he can take photos (usually of you, and Beel if he's there too).
He forgets to bring sunglasses with him which means he usually asks to borrow yours.
Sometimes he gives them back, sometimes he doesn't.
He'll hold your hand while you drive, or he'll trace little shapes into the top of your thigh to tease you.
He might rile you up on purpose so that you're a squirmy, needy mess.
If you drive somewhere secluded and pull over, he lays across the back seat and pulls you on top of him.
Kissing him is slow and lazy and indulgent, but if you ask him nicely, he'll make sure you're sated before you have to drive again.
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you were warm when everything was cold
5,470 words
lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric
Lucas can't stop staring.
“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”
Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”
Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”
Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.
“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.
“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”
“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”
Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”
“And I earned my letterman.”
Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”
“How's that?”
“Well, you like to sew.”
“It's a basic life skill!”
“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”
Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”
Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.
Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”
“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”
“I provide.”
“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”
Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.
Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”
Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.
“Uh, for me or for you?”
“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”
It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”
Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.
There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.
Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.
Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.
And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.
—
Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.
It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.
Right now, half of them are asleep.
Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.
Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.
But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?
Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.
He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.
His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?
So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.
Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.
His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.
So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.
“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”
“What?”
“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”
She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.
“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”
Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.
“You're sweet.”
He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.
God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.
Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.
—
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
“Huh?”
Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.
“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”
“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.
“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”
“Answer what?”
Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.
“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”
"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.
“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”
God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.
“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”
He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.
“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.
As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.
—
When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?
It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.
Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.
“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.
Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.
Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.
“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”
She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.
“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”
Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”
Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.
Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”
She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.
“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”
Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.
“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.
Mike sighs his agreement.
Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”
All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.
“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.
“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”
“Kill yourself,” Mike says.
“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”
“Thanks.”
Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.
“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.
Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.
“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.
“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”
“I'll get over it. You had a point.”
“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”
“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”
“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”
Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”
“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”
“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”
“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”
“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”
“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”
Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”
“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”
Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.
“You love me?”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”
“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”
“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”
“Oh, shut up, I love you.”
“Ardently?”
“If that means a whole lot.”
“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”
Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”
“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”
Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.
When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.
He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.
Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.
He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.
Steve fought off the Demogorgon.
He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.
Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.
Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.
According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?
When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.
Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.
God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.
If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?
—
“You seem lighter.”
“Hm?”
Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”
Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.
“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.
“And you're not gonna dump me?”
Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”
She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”
“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.
“So, you’re not…”
“No.”
“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”
Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”
“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”
“What? I don’t—”
Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”
“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”
Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”
“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”
She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”
Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”
“High praise.”
“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.
“I wanted this,” he mumbles.
“This?”
He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”
“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.
“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”
“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”
“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.
“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”
“I learn!”
“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”
Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.
—
Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”
“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”
He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”
Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.
Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”
“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”
“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.
“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”
“You had stuff on hold?”
Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.
She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.
“Surprise!”
Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.
“I love you.”
Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”
“Yes, shut up!”
She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”
“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”
“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.
Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.
“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.
“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.
As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.
Max will keep him tethered.
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You belong to Ambrose III (Poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)
Hey everyone!! I'm very happy you still are enjoying this little series. In the end, it should be four parts!
If you have missed the first chapter, it's here, and the second one is here.
Hope you'll enjoy and keep commenting because it's really helping me writing again <3
Warnings : no proof reading, mentions of killing, of sexual activities (nothing explicit), of toxic love, morally grey reader, angst.
You refused to open the door for the rest of the day.
You knew where the key was hidden so it had been easy for you to lock it up. And even if Bo could have shot the door open, the brothers agreed it was a terrible idea because you were already pretty mad at them.
The situation was killing them. But it was better than your absence, and if they had to choose between this or you being gone forever, they would rather keep you here, no matter how upset you would be.
You were home.
On the other hand, even if they didn’t say it, they all believe they knew you well enough to seduce you back in their embrace. After all, it wasn’t the first argument you had with them, and you always came back to them. You came back because they always showed you they were eager to make things better for you. You were the only person Bo ever apologised to, for instance, because they would do anything for you.
They wanted to believe that things were going to be back to what it was supposed to be. The good thing was that you didn’t seem afraid of them anymore. They were pretty certain they could fix the situation from there. They just needed to not do anything that would make you feel threatened.
They also hoped you remembered how they loved you, how they could only love you. You should know how insane and obsessive their love was. You should be able to understand why they needed to kill your friends. And it wasn’t truly to punish you, it was mostly because they couldn’t stand you around other people. You were supposed to love them, and only them. You were theirs, forever.
Bo thought he might need to also kill your mother because he noticed she kept calling on your phone. She was worried for you, because it had been a while she hadn’t heard from you. She had a bad feeling about all of this, so she kept calling. In the end, he answered it. She didn’t recognise his voice as he explained to her, doing his best to conceal his southern accent, that you were currently under the shower but that you would call her back soon. It appeased her, even though she seemed a little bit suspicious. She asked several times if you were okay.
Meanwhile, Vincent and Lester got rid of the bodies. It was better to pretend you never went with your friends anyways. Vincent was a little bit sad to let go of such perfect people, but he was ready to sacrifice his art to you. Lester was happy those friends of yours were dead but he thought they might have been too quick at killing them. Maybe they should have convinced you it was better that way, before doing it. He was aware they had been too impulsive; the brothers had never been too good at staying calm when it was about you.
As Lester went back to his truck, he sent a little look at your room window. He prayed to the Devil for you to open the door and agree to talk to them.
You were getting crazy inside your room. You couldn’t rest and everything around you reminded you of your childhood with the Sinclairs. You rolled your eyes when you noticed the boys kept your clothes, even the very old ones. It seemed like they couldn’t get rid of anything that used to belong to you, even broken toys.
Your heart tightened in your ribcage when you took a closer look at the drawings littering the walls. More memories flooded through your mind. You used to be all happy together. The first drawings you found were very childish, but slowly they got better. There were a lot of portraits of the whole family, including you. You remembered the day you were doing the portrait of Trudy was the day you first kissed Vincent. The weather was so hot and no one was around, so you told Vincent to remove his mask. He agreed, because it was you. You made him feel so normal, so handsome even. You didn’t really know what happened, but you ended up on his lap, kissing him as if your life was depending on it. His hands had held you with such strength, almost leaving bruises on you. He knew he was your first kiss, and it made him feel good about himself. He grew addicted to your touch and kisses then, and you used to love being his little goddess.
You also found gifts the boys got you. You found quite a few rocks and you remembered Lester offered them to you during your first date with him. The twins were barely leaving the two of you alone, so you both decided to sneak away. You went together in the woods, knowing no one would find you there. You let him guide you, trusting him. He was a little bit shy, so you had been the one who took his hand in yours. You could see him again, watching you with heart eyes and letting escape how beautiful, smart and amazing you were. He couldn’t stop babbling and when he finally calmed down, he kissed the back of your hand, his eyes lit with adoration. He promised you to only belong to you that day, and he never broke his word.
You also found a photo album of your teenagehood and early adulthood. You shivered when you noticed how the boys were always looking at you with so much love, tenderness and desire, in literally every picture of the four of you. Bo often had his arm wrapped around your waist. Vincent was holding your hand. Lester was hugging you from behind. There were photos of you all partying too. And at the end of the album, photos of you kissing the boys. Bo was passionate. Vincent was possessive. Lester was hungry.
One photo caught your attention. It was a summer night, you were wearing a cute little dress and Bo took a picture of you. You remembered that that night, the boys were relentless around you. You were the prettiest thing in their lives and they wanted you. You remembered you laughed so much that night, teasing them. The truth was you were burning for them too. At the end of the night, Bo brought you to a hotel room away from Ambrose and he made love to you for the first time. You both desired each other so badly. He had been so gentle to you, eager to make you feel good before his own pleasure. Despite the rumours, Bo was as virgin as you then. He had waited for you because he only wanted you. He learnt how to play with you, patient and attentive, and then he taught his brothers. You had a very fond memory of that night.
You had very fond memories of the boys.
You didn’t want to admit it but you missed those happy times. It upsetted you a lot, even more than you already were. For the moment, things seemed to be all shattered to pieces, litke the plate you threw at the wall earlier that day. How could things go back to what it used to be, now they killed your friends, now you spent years away from them?
And yet, a little voice inside your head was begging you. She asked you to forgive them. Did you really care about your friends? Could you care when you were finally home? When you could finally have their hands on your body, after all those sleepless nights, dreaming about the feeling of their skin against yours? You never forgot how they made love to you. And whenever you were with someone else, you wished it would be them instead.
Maybe you shouldn’t have left Ambrose, but it was too late. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this road trip, but it was too late as well. You were stuck, and you didn’t know what to do anymore. You thought you should want to escape, but your heart was breaking even more at the idea of leaving once again. You tried to tell yourself that you were simply afraid of what the Sinclairs would do to you if you tried to get away. But you knew you were lying to yourself. You weren’t afraid.
It was the middle of the night when you heard something scratching at your door. You were trying to sleep, but you needed a shower, and some food, and you started to feel lonely, locked up in there, so you couldn't rest. The noise was also preventing you now. You got irritated so you finally opened the door to meet a cute dog at the entrance. You didn’t know Jonesy but you could tell she was the family dog and she was well taken care of. You sat on the floor and started to pet her. You had to admit that she brought you some comfort, because she was very soft and affectionate. You quietly talked to her as she greeted your caresses with kisses of her own.
The twins were chatting in the kitchen, planning about what to do about you, when they heard you opening your door. However, they got confused when you didn’t seem to come downstairs or to walk to the bathroom, so they looked for you.
They quite enjoyed seeing you cooing at Jonesy, and it felt to them that fate was speaking once again because their dog never liked strangers. And yet, she seemed to be all over you already. You felt you were watched so you looked up and met their gazes. Your attention quickly went back on Jonesy. You weren’t sure what to do, and it was annoying you.
“Ya hungry?” Bo asked in the softest way he could manage, hoping to coax you, but you simply shrugged. “Ah com’on, baby girl” he hummed.
The twins carefully moved closer to you and sat on the floor as well. Jonesy loved to have her humans at her level for once so she happily barked and greeted the boys who petted her.
You stayed silent for a little while. You all were very tense, which was strange because you used to be so at ease around each other. The twins couldn’t wait for you to relax. And you couldn’t wait to forgive them or to get out of here.
“I’m sorry for your friends. We all really are.” Vincent finally signed to you. The only source of light was coming from your room but you were seeing enough of his hands to read them.
“No you’re not, or you wouldn’t have done this” you snapped
“They were in the way. They would have never agreed to leave you here and they would have called the police on us. We couldn’t take the risk when we finally had the opportunity to bring you where you belong. We didn’t have any other choice” Vincent continued
“Whatever you say” you replied
“Lester is really sad you seemed so upset at him earlier and we really want to fix the situation with you.” Vincent tried again
“I’m not sure we can fix anything” you whispered. You felt sad, but not only because of your friends.
“Ya’re one of us, ya always had been.” Bo said as he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. You tried to not react to the kiss. And then he didn’t allow you to remove your hand from his grasp, actually trying to bring you closer to him. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, love, I’m sorry. Ya know I say stupid things when I’m angry” he finally apologised. “We’re blessed ya’d fallen in love with the three of us or we’d’ve killed each other to be your favourite lover” he hummed and you knew he was only half joking about it.
“And yet my mother said you wanted to marry me” you replied as you leaned against the frame of the door. Jonesy put her head on your lap.
“Still want it…” Bo hummed. Vincent sent him a little look. “And speakin’ of your mother, she keeps callin’. Told her ya’d call her back soon” Bo told you before handing your phone back to you.
“Could call the cops on you” you replied as you took your phone. Bo shrugged.
“Ya won’t. Ya still love us too.” Bo replied with a cheeky grin and you arched an eyebrow at him.
“You seem very confident about it, Bo” you commented
“Ya’re angry at us for the moment, and it’s normal, ‘cause we kill your “friends”. But ya’ll forget about them soon enough” he replied
“How do you know that?” you groaned
“Ya’re actin’ like ya used to. Ya ain’t afraid of us, ya call us out, ya got mad at us when we ain’t doin’ what ya wanna. Ya called this room, yours. Ya’re sittin’ on the floor like if ya’re ownin’ the place. Which ya do, by the way. Ya always did” Bo enumerated the reasons that made him think you were still in love with them “And it’s been years ya should’ve called the cops on us. Ya knew what we were doin’ here and ya knew our plans. And yet, ya never called them.” he continued and you looked away. You couldn’t argue with that.
“I wanted another life, that’s why I left Ambrose. Of course I kept thinking about you guys a lot, but I didn’t want this mess.” you told them
“And yet you came camping close by Ambrose”. Vincent noted “Like if you were trying your luck”
“Yes. I was tempting the devil I guess, and he didn’t miss me” you sighed, wondering what you were going to do now.
“Tell us what we can do to make things better” Vincent asked
“I don’t…”
You jumped when your phone rang. You answered when you saw it was your mother, with the only desire to reassure her so you could peacefully think of the mess you were in without having to worry about her calling the cops. You half realised that you indeed really didn’t want anything bad to happen to the three men you used to live with.
“Hey, mom” you said
“Hey, darling, where are you? I couldn’t join you easily today.”
“I’m sorry about that, my phone died and we had to find a hotel for the night” you lied with so much ease. You learnt it from the twins.
“When did you say you would come back home?”
“I’m not sure, mom. We’re… getting behind the plan because we faced some car issues. Nothing serious, don’t worry.”
“Is everything okay? You sound strange”
“Of course everything is alright, I’m just tired. I call you tomorrow, mom, have a good night, love you.” you said before hanging up.
You closed your eyes and took your head in your hands. You could have told her about the kidnapping and the murders, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to finish breaking everything with the Sinclairs. Bo might be right; you might be still badly in love with them, even though it was a mistake that already cost you your friends.
You felt the twins gently stroking your hands and then arms. They had missed touching you. They moved closer to you again, surrounding you like they used to.
“Let us show ya life can be worth it here. We ain’t deservin’ ya, but ya know we’re good at takin’ care of you” Bo whispered to you and you really wanted to believe it.
--
PART IV
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the night we met, part 3
a/n: hope you enjoy! mentions of torture and guns throughout, kinda long and unrealistic but its fanfic so 🥴
what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?
part 1, 2
"have you found her yet?!" hotch barked the order out as penelope frantically searched through copious amount of cctv footage all at once. several computer screens were open for the team, trying to find a clue on the location of where you had been taken.
"not yet sir" garcia whispered, her fingers practically flying across the keyboard silently begging for any sign where you could've left. hotch tried to reign his anger back in, this wasn't anyone fault but himself. if only he had caught up to you, just 60 seconds before you wouldn't have been here. if only that stupid kiss hadn't even happened, you wouldn't be god knows where getting tortured.
he takes a breath, knowing deep down it's not the time to react emotionally but it's hard not to, it's hard to even think rationally when he knows the likelihood of you surviving wasn't all that great. his profiler brain knew the possible outcome from this wasn't exactly high and with every second his worst fear could potentially become true.
"have you found her?" haley's voice cuts in and hotch shakes his head, his fingers pinching his temple for any signs that he must've missed. it feels overwhelming around him, flashes of people and the sounds of you seeping through his mind. it's dizzying trying to piece together what's real and what's not, flashes of you and that damned kiss is all that plays on his mind. the softness of your lips, the utter desperation between you both, the sheer passion that radiated in waves, all of it. he needed it again, he craved it.
it's even worse when his wife, the mother of his child, the very woman you almost got shot for, is standing there looking at with concern but he doesn't take any notice. he never would've though haley's voice could be so shrill and irritating, he never could've imagined himself recoiling away from her. so he simply doesn't answer her, sighing as he tries to go over the footage with garcia. he should tell her about the kiss but his lips remain closed, not willing to share anything more about you to her.
"well i can help-" "haley please. go home protect jack, he needs one of us" hotch dismisses her, his heart becoming in control of the situation. he can't stand to look at her, feeling so guilty for kissing another woman but even worse because he didn't regret doing it. his only regret was not kissing you for longer. still, hotch knew he was being overly harsh but the pure fear, the worry of you being alone and he wasn't there was enough to send him tumbling into a pit of pure distress.
but he took a breath, now was not the time to become emotional. he had to get his head in the game. the risk of losing you was too much to bear but the thought of you being out there, chained to a devil was enough to keep him going.
"police have set up roadblocks blocking any main exits in the city. if they've travelled, they can't leave the country" jj and emily come in, but the information isn't enough. who knows what the man could've been doing to you by now, who knows what terrible inflictions could've been upon you.
"we've checked any significant location but they've all come negative, the detectives are checking for any last known locations and the camera footage when they leave...." morgan and spencer are next to enter, their shoulders deflating in disappointment and sadness being unable to find you.
"we'll find her aaron" rossi pats hotch's shoulders and though the sentiment is sweet, any hope is starting to crumble and diminish now. you were just here, how could they not find you yet? the bau was supposed to be one of the safest buildings, how could someone so easily take you away like that?? his resolve was breaking and if he wasn't careful, all the feelings that were locked up tightly would begin to spill before he could've comprehended it. the truth he was too scared to admit would be admitted and he didn't know how long he could hide it for
before anyone could respond, a beeping appeared. and there beheld a sight they wished they would never have had to see.
taking a good glance at you, all seven team members found their hearts shattering piece by piece in their chests. a chorus of horrified gasps and exclaims echoed throughout the room and hotch could barely even breathe, the words dying on his lips
"aaaand here we go" you hear a click, the whirr of a computer and it takes you all your strength to awaken. an overwhelming feeling of tiredness practically envelopes your body, how easily you could fall into the darkness that awaits your presence. and then the unfamiliar feeling of being tied up grabs you attention, fear courses through your veins as your eyes open and adjust to the setting. it felt like a hospital room but this was no place where people were fixed. the sickly smell of blood and bleach is strong in the air, its overpowering and nauseating
but you calm your mind, it wasn't the time to panic. you had to think, you had to fight, you had to survive
your vision was slightly blurred looking at the man who held you captive, trying to ignore the intense throbbing in your head. your hands were cuffed to some chain, holding you upright on your feet. but he loosens something and you fall to the ground with a soft thud, vision spinning from the lack of hydration and the beatings he had given you prior.
"ohmy god.... y/n??" a breathless whisper echoes throughout the room and painfully, you glance at the camera. there, all your team members stood in complete horror. you see hotch and for the first time since you had known him, he's at a loss for words. just looking at you with so much pain, so much anger, so much fear.
you could feel your cheeks burning from shame and embarrassment, at your situation or the kiss you didn't really know. you didn't even want to know.
"y/n?? are you okay??? someone tell me she's okay please-" garcia looks on tearfully while morgan comes behind her, guiding her to the computer. truthfully they didn't have an answer to her question but they needed to focus, to keep you alive. and you didn't need to be disrupted, not when your life was at stake.
"that was to prove she's very much alive so none of you have to worry" and just like that you're brought up to your feet again, groaning when the handcuffs pinch the skin tightly. there's so much pain, you can't even pinpoint where it hurts the most.
"what is she dressed in?" someone seethed and you blink in confusion, craning your neck to see your body. it was a black gown you were in, a slit riding up the thigh. it was beautiful, too pretty to be drenched in blood. a stark contrast to the situation you were in now.
"don't worry i didn't change her, i had someone else to do it for me. my prizes have to look picture perfect" he brushes a piece of your hair and you swing your head out of the way, eliciting a kick from him. you don't even cry out, gasping for air at the momentum he had lunged at you with. your hands grip around the handcuffs but it was useless, you couldn't claw your way out of metal.
"you stupid bitch!" his fingers grip your face, you could see just how much his rage consumed him. it was unnerving to say the least, the slightest thing seemed to tick him off. there was no telling what he could do to you in this state
"enough!" hotch grits out, his fingers clenching into tight fists by his side. piece by piece his facade was cracking underneath the unsub's hammer. he couldn't reign in his control this time, not with your life being threatened
"who are you?" you grit out painfully, trying to stop the wave of nausea hitting you over and over. the man doesn't answer, the head of his gun trailing from your chin to the centre of your neck. you hear the click of the revolver and your breath is hitched, wondering if he was really going to kill you this way. wondering if you'd be shot in front of your team that remained helpless on the other side
"i've always wondered what the price was for killing an fbi agent was-" you see the man's cruel smile hit you can't answer, the fear felt overpowering.
"don't you dare" hotch snarls, surprising everyone with the intensity of his rage. and to your surprise, it had worked. the man eyed hotch and with a soft grin, dropped his gun and you felt your lungs take their first breath. tears pricked your eyes, the tiredness was practically swimming in your body but you couldn't crumble. not in front of the unsub, not in front of your team. and especially not in front of hotch.
"i think we should play a game, no?" the man smiles sadistically, pointing to you again. any strength you once held was shattering minutes by minute. your mind and body fighting over one another, wanting to give in and give up but forcing yourself to stay awake no matter what
"leave her alone! i can have you arrested on multiple accounts of-" hotch's face was unreadable, his hands etched tightly around the monitor but the unsub gestures to his mouth, to silence them all.
"if you want her alive, you'll do what i say. good luck trying to pinpoint our location, right now the cell service is bouncing around several cell towers all across the globe" frustrated, hotch looks towards garcia who was working feverishly and she sadly nods, it wasn't a clear location no matter how times she tried to hack into the system. she was hit waves and waves after a firewall which could take hours, time you didn't have to spare.
"so back to the game, who wants to start? oh and if anyone moves," you feel the pinch of a knife resting dangerously on the pulse in your neck.
"one twist and she's on the ground and i'll be miles away. and this would've been all for nothing" he moves the knife down to the centre of your neck. leaving spots of blood in its wake. all of them look helplessly at each other, the unsub had them right where he wanted them and they knew. any slight movement would guarantee your death, any secret calls would have you beaten before they could hang up.
you were all at his mercy, whether they liked it or not
"derek morgan" the unsub peered around the group and his eyes settle on him eerily. morgan gulps a little, trying to calm his shaking hands. his eyes looks at you helplessly then back to the unsub where his gaze had hardened as puts up his profiler front once more
"we're starting off easy, how many years have you and agent l/n known each other" the question was simple enough and yet it felt like he asked into the lions den, suddenly feeling rather exposed and confused. as if any answer to this simple question would be wrong even if it was the truth
"wha-" derek began but he heard a sound of disapproval and your shocked wince as you were yanked back by your hair
"wrong answer" you weren't even given a warning or a countdown before you feel a surge of hot white pain floods through your body. painful screams rip out through your mouth, your hands desperately clawing at the handcuffs but its to no avail. the team stand there panicking, yelling at the man to stop. the pain was intense, you could've almost passed out from the pure agony crippling you
"waitwait wait stop stop!!! it's three!!! i've known her three years!!!" derek shouts, banging the screen and the pain is low dull one, you gasp and gulp for oxygen that never fully reaches your lungs.
"if you had answered the first time around, none of this would have happened would it?" he scowls, giving you a nudge with the stick. you gasp out for air, your tongue heavy on your lips as your body groans against the ties holding you up
"hurry up garcia" hotch commands under his breath to penelope, her eyes watering as she's trying desperately get some location on you. jj and emily help, trying not to look at the horror that was unfolding and focus their attention on bringing you back safely.
"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry-" morgan whispers, his hands shaking looking to and back from you and the unsub. hotch can only stare with his mind spinning, breathing coming out in short bursts, his heart feeling like it had plunged to the deepest darkest parts of the earth. he's losing his composure and as much as he's trying to reel it back, it keeps slipping from him. leaving nothing but a vulnerable scared man
"how you doing?" the man prods your head and you could only gasp at the anguish flooding your body. if it weren't for the incredibly tight rope holding you upright, you would've collapsed a long time ago.
"doesn't she look so pretty?" he holds your face mockingly and turns so the rest of them can see. every member of your team feel their hearts shattering and splintering, their hitched gasps of panic at the beating.
"agent hotchner" the unsub asked another question, his dark eyes settling on hotch. a manical grin on his lips as he revels in the alarm he has inflicted on the whole team. as if it gives him satisfaction that your life danced in his hands and your team members could do nothing but watch
"truth or dare?" the unsub smirks and hotch looks at you, his stoic facade crumbling. his heart was falling into a million pieces he's not sure he'll ever recover from
"truth" hotch utters, his voice completely free from the cold tone he usually dons.
"do you love agent l/n??" the chain holding you upright once again loosens, and that sends you tumbling to the floor in a broken beaten pile. your heart was racing, partly because of the pain but mostly due to what he would answer. with a good amount of strength, you raise your head and look at the camera. looking at his face, how his eyes flickers with so many emotions and how you can practically see his resolve breaking away
hotch was a good liar but seeing your broken defeated face, being unable to help you, he had answered the question without even realising.
"yes" the murmur was soft, his voice cracking as he takes in your approach. he had caused this. he had done this to you. the promise of protection was nothing more than jumbled words at his feet. he broke the very thing he swore on you, how could ever look at you the same again?
"aww what a cute lil romantic story this has evolved into" the unsub had cackled and your head shook, glaring at both hotch and the man who had held you captive
"there's nothing... romantic about this" your voice was weak but firm, refusing to even meet hotch's eyes.
"shut up" the man had gripped you, ignoring the protest your team were calling. it felt like too much, he held your chin and you look at him, it was now or never. you had to escape, you had to be free.
you had to survive
with one swift move, all your strength goes in knocking him down. he tumbles to the table, breaking the rotting wood with ease. the instruments clatter and you get up, hissing when your abdomen stretched a little. looking down, you see your body littered with blood and bruises. a huge burn mark plastering your side as the dress ripped apart but you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself when you hear voices crying out that he was attacking again
"in front, y/n!!" derek commands and you duck, making him fall into the table. you quickly grabbing the keys from the scattered objects on the floor, jamming it into the lock and twiddling until you felt a click. the metal loosens and you feel them slipping off, eternally grateful that for once the universe was on your side.
you didn't get time to react for when you look in front, he's there again. but your leg connects with his groin, remembering the training moves you were taught. the force of the kick was enough to paralyse him for a few minutes as he screamed. you looked around, quickly trying to find some keys to unlock the door. your freedom was close, you could practically taste it as you rushed around.
and then you had made the biggest mistake of looking into the camera for a second.
in that second you catch a glimpse of hotch's face, it completely startles you. as if the world had stilled for a fleeting moment and all you see is hotch, just looking at you with so many emotions it's hard to decipher which is the most dominant. how despite everything, you want to hug him and never let go. your body inbetween his arms and your head against his heart, protected against any and all bad in this world. and then you remember the heartache he's caused you, the moment that had led up to you getting captured and every memory is a dagger to your heart. how could things have gotten so wrong?
but it was that moment that was used to the unsub's advantage
you hear screams echoing in the room but you don't comprehend until you feel a burning sensation completely puncture your abdomen. gasping, you look down to see blood gathering at your feet and dripping down your legs and before you even look back up, the object breaks the skin a second time. as if it was all in slow motion, your teams watched the horrific steps play out like a twisted play.
"i told you not to mess with me, you stupid bitch!" he grips and twists the object once more, resulting in a breathless gasp leaving your lips. the pain felt intense, a throbbing sensation overtaking you as you collapse. the horrible sound of your skin being punctures all but echoes in hotch's head, unable to do anything but to scream your name. shocked screams echo in the bau room, penelope's fingers are furiously typing away as she squeezes her eyes, unable to stop the horrible penetrative sound of your skin being stabbed in her mind.
the pain grows worse by the second and your scream dies on your lips, eyes fluttering closed ready to accept and await the darkness that overtakes your consciousness.
"nonono.... no!!!" hotch could barely manage a whisper, banging the screen as if he could magically appear to your aide. but he was simply doomed to watch you as you suffer and collaspe to the ground, breathing quickening. this couldn't be, this couldn't be the end.
you can see him and painfully you turn to watch his face. you don't know what emotions has crossed over his features, he still looks as beautiful as he did the first day you had set eyes upon him. how lucky you were to experience what it was like to be kissed by such a man, to be able to be in the presence of such a wonderful person. your tears had blurred your vision, not out of pain but out of gratitude. even laying on this cold floor, bleeding out, you were purely thankful for him.
he had protected you before and now it was your turn, this way he could focus on his wife and child. you would never be in the way again. there's a hint of the softest smile upon your lips as your eyes close. your fists loosened, limbs becoming limp as you closed your eyes, allowing the darkness to fully encapsulate your mind and body. maybe in a different world, a lighter one, you and hotch could be together against all odds.
the screen fizzles into a black page and hotch barely lets a breath out he didn't think he was holding. his hands have gripped the chairs, he didn't trust himself to stand without the support. he could feel his eyes prickling with the tears as hard as he tried to disguise them, his world was falling apart at the seams and he couldn't do a thing to fix it. all he wants is to be with you but now he didn't even know if you were alive anymore, that thoughts sends him further spiralling in his despair. he wanted nothing more than the ground to completely swallow him whole, the lump in his throat growing bigger as his team members looks at him. partly with concern, fear and pure sadness.
the room was completely silent, everyone's faces covered with a look of pure sorrow and so much anguish.
penelope's tears won't stop trickling down her cheeks. emily and jj look at each other with helplessness, their tears shining underneath the lights. morgan and reid lean against the table their hearts thundering in their chest, completely unable to process what had just taken place while rossi sits by a chair his head in his hands at the pure shock and pain running through him.
"it-it didn't look that terrible, she could still.... be alive" against his better judgement reid offers his support softly. the crushing weight of your absence completely crumbling hotch in a way they've never seen before.
"she was stabbed twice, reid. don't be so naive to think she could've possibly survived that alongside with the beating he had delivered. you above all, should know that much" his voice was harsher than he intended, heavy as the lump in his throat grew bigger. it felt like the air was being cut off, his thoughts ricocheting across from one another as his knees give way and he crashes to the floor in pure defeat and torture. he could faintly feel someone come to his help, his name being called but his mouth refuses to answer. all he can think about, all his mind is replaying is the moment before you closed your eyes. how he wasn't there to help you, how he couldn't rescue you this time.
you could've still been there with them had he been to your aid just 60 seconds earlier. if he had chased you quickly, you wouldn't be beaten and bruised within an inch of your life and now you were... gone. his heart felt like it was being twisted painfully, gripped tight as the thought of never hearing your laugh and seeing your smile became permanent. the dam had broken and the tears spilled down his face, his hands clutching the carpet but to no avail.
what we he supposed to do now, haunting by the memory of you like this? what was he supposed to do haunted with the ghost of you?
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Bagi's letter to Phil
Hi, Phil!
I know that you are being possessed by something terrible, but I hope you will read this letter one day being okay :D
To the thing possessing you: CAI FORA*, GET OUT DUDE
Saying that, I hope you have a good birthday!!
Your children love you and us, your neighbors, do to!
You should know you are always welcome here (except the devil in your body)
Anything, you just need to call .
Please come to Brazil, we miss you.
- Bagi
Bagi named the book: to Phil(and not the devil inside him)
*Cai fora means get out too. It is just that she really wrote "cai fora, get out, dude", so I left it there
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And they were strangers
Part 1: And they were roommates
Summary: It’d only been a week since you left but Wanda was a mess and you weren’t doing much better, luckily a friend is here to keep you company and maybe even have a bit of fun with Wanda at the party you guys planned
A/n: Never written for a succubus before but hopefully it’s somewhat correct 🤞
Warnings: Minors DNI, language, sexual innuendos LMK if I missed any
Words: 3,000+
So this was always going to have a part 2 but thank you everyone that wanted a part two and loved the fic, thank you! 🥰
”Wanda you look terrible” Nat nudged her friend awake and Wanda groaned “are we finished?”
Nat nodded “lectures been over for about 20 minutes, but we thought you needed a rest”
“Thanks” Wanda muttered placing her head back on the desk and closing her eyes
“How long has Y/n been gone?”
Wanda snapped her head up glaring at her friend “what?”
“How long has she been gone?”
“Like a week?”
Nat laughed “that makes sense, when she’s not here you always look terrible”
“You’re not making me feel better Natty, get to the point please”
Nat kissed her friend on the cheek and stood up “I don’t think you can survive without Y/n, you need her”
Wanda just rolled her eyes eventually standing up and heading for the door with her “I don’t need a woman to look after me, I’m just going through some things, nothing to do with Y/n”
“Sureeee, are you still having that party this weekend?”
Wanda nodded “yep, need a good party to sort myself out”
******************************************************
“Why are you still here Y/n?” Lucifer himself stood next to the bar watching you drink another alcoholic drink…at 10am “how about you mind your fucking business!” You shouted and the man just pinched his nose and scrunched up his face
“Listen you childish bastard of a demon, I’m sorry your precious human thing decided she wanted to end things with you but it’s been a week and you can’t stay here at the club, your smell is scaring the customers”
You threw the bottle on the ground laughing as it shattered and looked back at Lucifer “deal with it bitch”
You continued laughing until an aroma hit all of your senses wrapping around you like a warm blanket, it was familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it
“Oh princess what happened? Did you spill the drink? You can’t do anything for yourself can you?”
The aroma was coming from the woman dressed in the white pantsuit who approached you from behind and kissed your head “do you need mommy to take care of you?”
You couldn’t blush, but at that moment you definitely blushed “yeah”
Pepper smiled pulling you from your chair and kissing you softly “come on honey let’s go and run you a bath”
“Will you join me?” You whispered, wanting to be close to Pepper for as long as possible
“Of course, poor baby can’t wash herself on her own, she needs lots of help”
She gently took your hand leading you to the penthouse bathroom and turning on the taps “can you undress yourself or do you need help?
“I can do it” you said starting to undress and the woman excused herself running into the devil
“You’re taking advantage of her Pepper” he said sternly and the woman shrugged “oh come on Lucy it’s fine, I miss playing with the demons,
“I’m pretty sure a succubus uses sexual desires to drain humans of their life force for their own, not with demons”
“Pepper?” Your voice echoed through the door and Pepper kissed the devil on the cheek “humans aren’t as fun anymore, but these demon women want to please and obey, that’s what keeps me going these days”
Turning back to the bathroom door , she removed her blazer and stepped in shutting the door behind her “hey honey look at you, all shy and naked for me, does the water feel nice?”
You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you wanted too, just nodding and letting the woman climb in behind you and pulling you close, your whole body relaxed in her hold, turning your head slightly to rest your head on her chest
“So tell me all about your human friend darling, why doesn’t she want you anymore?”
You groaned and tried going underwater but Pepper stopped you gripping your hair and keeping you above the water “don’t be childish Y/n, you’re over 400 years old, be a good girl and tell me what happened”
You nodded and began explaining “basically she’s dating a guy and he’s a douche and bad at sex because she always came to me at night and then when we finished I’d kiss her softly and soothe her bruises and cuddle her into the late morning”
Pepper listened intently “so she doesn’t appreciate you?”
You shook your head no “I’ve done everything for her and this is how she repays me, I just wanted to steal her away from that douche and keep her for myself, is that too much to ask?”
Pepper shook her head “of course not princess, maybe she doesn’t deserve you, you’re a big brave demon who can get any girl she wants, just remember that”
You did remember that, and you’d make sure Wanda remembered that too
Pepper was having her own inner dialogue too, maybe she’d go and see this human of yours, could be fun “are you going to go back anytime?”
“I think so, there’s a party at our place this weekend, even if I’m mad at Wanda parties are fun”
Your mind started to clear of Peppers influence and you groaned trying to leave the bath but was pulled back “I hate when you do this…”
“Don’t you like calling me mommy? I thought it was your favourite word?” Pepper smirked letting you go and grab a towel for yourself “you know I don’t, anyone tricking me, I only like being babied and taken care of on my terms”
Pepper laughed “you want to be babied?”
You stopped and glared at the woman “don’t repeat that to anyone”
Pepper crossed her hand over her heart “scouts honour I won’t repeat anything” she chuckled
“Better not do”
*******************************************************
“This party’s great Wanda! You did a great job!” Tony Stark shouted to the woman already on his 4th drink and Wanda just chuckled “glad you’re having fun Tony” she waved the man off and turned to look for her friend
“Have you seen Nat?” Wanda scooted through the small crowd asking people if they’d seen her friend but no body had until Thor got her attention “I saw Natalia go to the end of the hallway into a room”
“Thanks Thor!” Wanda realised it was your room she went into “why did she go into her room?” She approached the door hearing a few whispers, she made out one voice being Nat but she couldn’t make out the other until
“Oh Natty you’re so pretty”
“Y/n?!” She shouted and slammed the door open revealing you with Nat pressed up against the wall and your lips connected
“What the hell are you doing here?!” You smugly pulled away from the woman kissing her on the nose and facing Wanda “enjoying the party, it is my house too”
Nat sensing some tension pushed past you gently “where you going Nat?” You asked trying to keep her in place “I think you two need to talk” she left the room and you promised to find her later “I’ll come and find you later love”
You chuckled at the blush creeping up on Nat’s neck and turned back to the seething woman
“You can’t fuck my best friend!”
You just laughed “we’re not teenagers Wanda, I can fuck whoever I want”
“Not my best friend! You leave for like a week, no contact and then come back dressed in nothing but a long blazer and try sleeping with Nat! Who do you think you are?”
You looked down at your outfit, you were clearly wearing trousers, you didn’t know what she was on about “you know I’m wearing trousers right?”
Wanda had had enough pushing you into the wall a getting in your face “why?” She whispered but you refused to answer “please Y/n answer me, why did you leave me alone?”
“He’s here isn’t he?”
“Yes”
“Then go back to him Wanda, go back to your boring boyfriend and leave me alone to have fun” trying to leave you found yourself being held by Wanda and kept against your bedroom wall “do you want something Miss Maximoff?”
Wanda stared at you and you could see the fight she was having in her mind and it made you smirk
“Such a bitch” she sighed kissing you suddenly and you responded kissing her back but quickly stopping pushing her away “you’re not getting me back that easily”
“Why do you make everything so complicated?”
You shrugged pushing her and exiting the room looking for Nat “don’t interrupt us again Wanda, I wanna see her tongue piercing in action!” You laughed watching the colour drain from her face
“Don’t hurt her!”
*****************************************************
Lucifer hated it here, oh he loved a party but this one was gross, too many youngish people grinding against or falling against each other and the cheapest alcohol known to man “Pepper why did you drag me here?”
“Y/n spoke highly of this ‘Wanda’ and I want to meet her for myself”
He rolled his eyes “you mean you want to suck her life-force from her and probably wear her skin?”
“If her skin is nice and smooth then maybe I will” she glanced round the room and noticed a woman resembling Wanda from your description “there” she simply said going over to the woman
“You must be Wanda, wow you’re even prettier than Y/n said” Pepper was definitely in front of the right girl, the amount of tension and anger coming off of her felt amazing and she couldn’t wait to get her hands on her
“I’m sorry but who are you?” Wanda was annoyed and didn’t need this, frankly hot, woman here annoying her “I’m Pepper, you seem tense, maybe I could help you relax”
Wanda pushed her hand away that had found it’s way to her waist without her noticing right away “I’m sorry but I don’t know what Y/n has been saying but I’m not interested, plus I have a boyfriend so bye-
Pepper grabbed Wanda holding her tight and close to her “oh precious little human you’re not going anywhere, Y/n has told me just how special you are and I want to find that out for myself”
Wanda tried moving away but her iron grip on her stopped any movement and it scared her “please I don’t know what you are but please let me go”
Pepper just chuckled in Wanda’s ear making the redhead shiver slightly “I’m your new obsession honey that’s who I am”
A wave of something Wanda couldn’t put her finger on came over her, her whole body went limp and she let herself be held up, she could hear and see but could barley move “there you are princess, perfect”
*******************************************************
You didn’t find Nat again in the house but you suspected she was trying to hide from you, what a shame, you really wanted to test her tongue piercing, standing outside you breathed in a huge breath of fresh air “ugh air is still disgusting”
“I think maybe it’s all the weed and nicotine you consume that makes you hate air” Loki appeared out of the trees like the creep he pretended to be “do you actually live in a house or do you just live in the trees?”
“You’ve seen my house”
You nodded “yep and I stand by what I said, you’d be better living in the trees than that dump of a house anyway, do you have any weed?”
The man shook his head no and you sighed disappointingly “then what good are you?”
The door next to you both slammed open giving you both a freight as two women exited the house, you were surprised to see Wanda and….Pepper? Oh no
“Y/n? What a nice surprise, you were right, Wanda here is a beautiful woman and she’s very excited to show me everything she knows”
You pushed away from the wall and smiled at the succubus “get away from her Pepper”
“Why should I?”
Your looked over Wanda, she was practically unconscious minis a few groans indicating she was still awake “because she looks dead, come on just go and find a human inside and leave this one alone”
Lucifer suddenly appeared before you both and you groaned “fuck me why are you here too?”
Lucifer held his hands up in defence “I didn’t want to be here but Pepper wanted to come and find your human”
You were quick to correct him “she’s not my human anymore I don’t care about her anymore…but just let her go Pepper she’s of no use to you”
“No use? She’s filled with tension and delicious delicious arousal, her thoughts are plagued with images of you doing sinful things, she’s perfect for me to feed from”
Images of you? She was thinking about you? No push that out of your mind you don’t want her anymore, right?
You snapped out of your thoughts and looked back at Pepper, knowing how she worked it was going to be difficult to get Wanda away from her “so she’s thinking of me?”
The succubus smiled “so many thoughts, come on princess how about we both have fun with her? She’s so wavy right now, just how demons like their victims”
You bit your lip and looked away from the woman to Loki who just shrugged “your choice but I’ve dealt with Pepper too and she truly takes everything from you”
Turning back to Pepper you walked towards her and places your arm around Wanda holding her up with Pepper “let’s go back to the club it’s got all those fancy toys I know you like”
Pepper kissed you hard and you reciprocated eagerly momentarily forgetting about your nearly unconscious roommate who you fell out with last week “such a pretty little demon you are, how about you show your full form Hm?” Pepper whispered she pulled away but you shook your head
“That form is for my enemies only Pepper you know that, I would never subject Wanda to that, just come on let’s go, get this over and done with”
****************************************************
Wanda didn’t think she was dreaming but her wavy feelings made her think she was, she felt herself be sat down on a soft mattress and her eyes opened properly to see you fussing with something and you noticed her more awake stance
“Don’t scream and don’t move a damn muscle okay Wanda? I’m trying to save you here because if I don’t then you’ll be succubus food and trust me it’s not pleasant”
Wanda gave a gentle nod laying back into the mattress closing her eyes and hearing another woman come into the room “is she ready Y/n?”
“No she’s knocked out Pepper, it’ll be wrong to do anything with her now”
The woman groaned and rolled her eyes “you’ve gone soft, but fine we can have fun with her tomorrow, I did have a small fill from a human at the party.
Pepper kissed you softly and turned to Wanda kissing her head “see you tomorrow sweet girl”
Pepper left the room and it was silent for a few minutes, Wanda finally waking up properly and sitting up on the bed looking at you “Y/n, thanks I-I thank-
“Don’t start Wanda, I’ll get you out of here take you home then leave you alone”
You refused to look at Wanda as you went around the room picking up Wanda’s shoes that Pepper had taken off
“Don’t leave me…” she whispered and you stopped in your tracks “I’m not, I’m taking you back to the house”
“Please move back in, I’ll break up with Vision I miss you so much” her voice broke your none existent heart, you chanced a look at her face now stained with fresh tears and you felt awful
“Wanda we’re not talking about it now, I’m just going to get you out of here that’s it”
Wanda wiped her face from tears realising they weren’t going to make you stay, she remained quiet when you took her away from the club and she remained quiet all the way home, the only time you spoke to her was when you arrived outside the house and noticed the party still happening
“Fucks sake don’t these humans ever go home?”
You started the car again heading off down the street and Wanda looked over at you “I’m not leaving you here with a bunch of alcoholics”
“Where are we going?” She whispered “Loki’s place, he’s not in I think he wants to sleep under the stars or some shit, we can stay there”
“You’re staying too?”
“Obviously I’m not leaving you alone tonight, you were nearly seduced by a succubus, even I’m not immune to her charms so I’m surprised you’re still standing”
Wanda giggled “a powerful demon like you seduced easily? That’s funny”
You rolled your eyes but let out a little laugh “yeah well, despite her being a soul sucking bitch she’s very hot”
You both laughed erasing any tension that was left in the car, the silent drive was no longer awkward so Wanda took a chance “do you still like me?”
The car stopped outside Lokis house and you looked over to Wanda “Wanda…Wanda I love you, unfortunately that douche bag got to you first, I have loved you ever since I came up to earth and saw you wondering around the college library, ever since you accepted me as your roommate and even when you found out I was demon and you weren’t scared and it made my nonexistent heart sore”
You both had gotten so close that you could smell her intoxicating scent “kiss me Y/n” Wanda didn’t wait for an answer leaning foreword kissing you, it was soft, the softest kiss you’d both shared in a while, it didn’t last long but you both felt every emotion put into it
“You need to recover Wanda let’s go inside” leaving the car quickly your opened Wanda’s door for her and helped her out of the car holding her around the waist keeping her body close to your own “join me in bed?”
You shook your head “no, but I’ll stay by your side all night keeping you safe”
“And in the morning?”
Kissing her cheek you kept your lips close to her ear “then you go back to boyfriend and I go back to the club”
Wanda but her lip holding back some tears and nodded “o-okay”
“Good night Wanda”
“Good night Y/n
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