#and knowing that if it had been possible i would have probably gone the way jules did. knowing that at his age i would have gone willingly. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bring-backup-99 · 2 days

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First Time’s The Charm

Read on Ao3

PAIRING: Tech x Phee

SUMMARY: Some sweet smut about Tech and Phee’s first time together

WORDS COUNT: 2501

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with feelings, PiV, fluff, kissing

NOTES: When I’m not working on my Batch reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, I occasionally write other stuff. I have a long form WIP that will probably never be finished, so you all might as well have the smut from it.

And yes, this is virgin Tech (which is basically the opposite of him in Bad Choices), though I will fight people if they suggest that he couldn’t still be good at sex from the start. The man loves research. He knows what and where a clitoris is. I will die on this hill.

The first night Tech had stayed with Phee, it had simply been a matter of them talking too late and falling asleep on her couch. When they’d woken up in the soft morning light, both had felt sheepish. She’d laughed it off.

“You’ll fall asleep anywhere, Brown Eyes.” He didn’t deny it.

A few days later, they were in her little workshop, telling each other stories, true stories, while she cataloged and he tinkered. As he walked her home, their hands brushed together until finally their fingers slowly intertwined. He didn’t come in, but they stood in the moonlight outside her door holding hands and talked about everything but what was happening between them.

When they had first met, so many rotations ago, she had liked him immediately, primarily because he was handsome, and then later because he was kind, brilliant, intense, and strong. He was so different from the other men she knew. Bringing them all to Pabu was impulsive, but she’d never regret doing it, giving them a safe space where they were appreciated for their kindness and desire to help, where they flourished, where Omega could have a home.

He began walking her home every night, and they would stand outside holding hands, until finally, one night, she leaned into him and he put his arm around her.

“This is nice, Tech,” she’d said, using his real name to show how serious she was. He’d looked down at her.

“Yes. I would use that descriptor as well.”

Impulsively, she’d risen onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. For a moment, she was afraid she’d gone too far. His body had stiffened abruptly, but just as quickly it relaxed. The kiss was sweet and soft, close-mouthed. He’d pulled away slightly.

“I have never kissed anyone before.”

The words overwhelmed Phee. She had thought it was possible his life hadn’t allowed such things, and she wanted to be careful.

“Is this okay? We don’t have to.” Tech stopped her by lifting her chin so they could kiss again. She pulled him in, and they stayed on her couch while she taught him something new. He was a fast learner.

He stayed with her almost every night, slowly divesting himself of the various layers that he wore as the evenings passed. First, his utility belt and pouches. The night he took off his gloves, and she had felt his bare hands on her own, against her face and neck, had made her giddy. She spent the next day mooning over him like she was a schoolgirl. She chided herself for it; she was too old and wise for this nonsense, but Phee couldn’t stop.

And it was the night he took off his goggles because their kissing had knocked them askew for the umpteenth time that she knew she’d truly fallen for him. Someone’s eyes shouldn’t have that power over her, yet she’d never met anyone so absolutely honest that it reflected perfectly in their gaze. Phee’d been with other people, of course, but she’d never let them into her life the way she let Tech in.

Because she trusted him, and she knew this gesture from him was because he trusted her too.

“Can this come off tonight?” she whispered, running her hands over the chest of his blacks. Their embrace tonight had been particularly passionate and she wanted him as close to her as possible.

“Yes, I would find that acceptable.”

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable, Brown Eyes."

"Just...proceed slowly."

Phee was trying to do just that. She’d imagined the first time they had sex, that she’d take him to a field of flowers or a beach at sunset…or the back of a library. But now she knew none of those was going to happen.

She circled him, her hand never breaking contact as she felt the contours of his body under the fabric. Finally, she faced him and slowly pulled up the shirt. She ran the back of her hand against his skin, noted that he was hardly breathing. She waited for him to relax, then pulled the shirt off, leaving his torso fully bare. She could feel his tension as he lay back on the bed, his eyes slightly glazed.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she lay beside him.

“Yes,” but the word was almost inaudible.

Tentatively, she stroked his chest, waiting for his breathing to return to normal. She didn’t know what she expected, but his slim, muscular frame fulfilled any fantasy she had had. Her fingers fluttered over a scar on his shoulder.

"Droid," he said. Another scar on his side. "Knife wound. Not from Hunter," he smiled. He turned slightly and showed her one on his hip. "Shrapnel, only partially because of Wrecker." She leaned over, kissing each of them. Hungry for him, she kissed a trail from his hip to his chest. Impulsively, she licked his nipple, and he cried out in shock. Phee drew back quickly.

“I'm sorry."

"No, no. That felt...intense. I was not expecting it.” He drew her to him, kissed her, then whispered, "Do it again."

Hungrily, her lips moved along his neck, drinking in every reaction he had to her touch, then down to his other nipple. Tentatively, she licked it, feeling the hitch in his breathing, then gently raked it with her teeth. He moaned. She did the same on the other side, reveling in his response to her.

His hands began to roam around her body, finding their way under her shirt. On fire, she pulled it off and let him explore her at his own pace. She was desperate to feel his skin against her own, but she did not want to overwhelm him. As she had explored him, his hands did the same to her; caressing the small of her back, the nape of her neck, the curve of her breasts. She gasped at his touch, inflamed, desperate for more. He pulled her closer, and she pressed her body against his, chest to chest. He rolled on top of her, lips locked together, one of his legs between her own. All her control was gone.

She let her hand slide down to the growing bulge in his pants.

"I want to touch you," she said, giving him time to stop her, but he was as inflamed as she was. He groaned and arched his back as her hand cupped him. His responses to her were unbelievable, feeding the flames of her desire.

“Please, take this off.” She fumbled at his pants. “Please, if you are ready.”

He stood and pulled them off, as she slipped out of the rest of her clothes. Standing next to him, looking into his eyes, she took his erection in her hand. It took every ounce of his self control not to climax right then, the sensations were so overwhelming. She pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. She leaned forward to kiss him and look into his beautiful eyes. She took his hand, and together they guided his length into her as she lowered herself onto him.

He cried out as he entered her. She moved slowly, never breaking eye contact, until he was fully inside her.

“Tech, if you become uncomfortable or need us to stop—”

“I can manage,” he said, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused on her, fingers intertwined. She waited a few moments, letting their bodies acclimate to the new sensations, then together they slowly began moving, finding a rhythm that suited them both.

He held her hips and pushed his pelvis up to be as deep inside her as he could. Her gasps and cries excited him in a way he had never felt, his body responding on instinct as she rocked against him more insistently.

He could see her eyes losing focus, even as he could sense the same in himself, as he felt the build up in his body, a pressure he had never experienced and did not fully understand. This was so different from the furtive, utilitarian fumblings he managed in the ‘fresher when the need arose.

In a move that took her breath away, he pressed himself up, put his arm around her waist, and rotated both of them so he was on top of her. The absolutely feral cry she gave him as her limbs wrapped around his body nearly sent him over the edge. He held her close, trying to slow down, to make this last longer, this sweet, intense, incredible feeling.

She refused to let it happen. She rocked her pelvis against him, desperate for him to lose control, to match her passion. He gasped.

"I need to...Phee, if you do not stop…I am too close," he groaned.

"We'll do this again," she whispered. "I want you. I want you inside me. I want to feel you." She felt incoherent, but she also felt him let go. He lifted one of her legs, hooking it over his arm, giving him an angle to somehow be deeper inside her. His body took over, his thrusts stronger, wilder. Her hands pressed on his lower back, encouraging him.

Her moans of, "Yes, please, yes. Tech. Yes," finally put him over the edge. The absolute bliss of the orgasm was almost too much for him. He buried his head in her neck, drowning himself in her essence, as it pulsed over his body. He lay still on top of her for what he thought was an eternity as the sensation slowly drifted away, leaving him tingling all over like exposed nerves.

Cautiously, she stroked her hand down his back. He shuddered a bit but didn't say anything, then slowly slid out of her as he rolled next to her.

"That was amazing," she whispered.

“I…quite agree.” He lifted his head and looked at her, "But you did not..." His voice trailed off.

She smiled, kissed him, "That's not always the most important part of sex. The...intimacy...this closeness I feel with you, right now. This is better. But also, that was still incredible. You're a natural."

"I did do some research before this encounter…Though it did not prepare me for the intensity of the physical stimulation." She laughed.

"Why is that funny? As I do not have any experience in this area, I wanted to be prepared."

"The idea of you doing research about this on your datapad is very funny, but I'm not going to complain about the results." She rolled out of bed to clean up.

"It will take a little time before I can physically do this again, but.." For a moment he seemed almost shy, "...would you want to when I am ready?"

She got back into the bed, snuggling next to him.

"Yes," she said huskily.

“You were correct,” he said, pulling her close against him, “This was... special. More than just a physical act.” He felt foolish for ever having suggested otherwise in one of their long conversations. His voice drifted off, and she thought he might fall asleep, but instead they lay in wakeful silence, intertwined.

“What is going on in there?" she asked.

In reply, his hands again began roaming over her body. Lightly, his fingertips raised goosebumps on her arms and down her back. She shivered but felt herself opening again for him. His fingers caressed her breasts, tracing a path around them until he moved and his mouth found her hard nipples. He gently stimulated one, then the other, with his tongue.

Now that his mind had cleared, he was studying her carefully. Every action and response was filed away. His hand stroked down her side, then to her already parted legs. He kissed her as his fingers explored between her legs, and he drank up her moans. He slid a wet finger up until he found her clit and just barely made contact with it, feeling her body tighten at the touch. He rubbed against it and was rewarded with a deep gasp. He slid two fingers inside of her, leaving his thumb to work against her sensitive nub. Her reaction was instant. Her thighs closed around his hand, and she groaned as his long fingers reached deeper into her.

"Tech," she whispered. "I need you...I need you inside me."

"Yes, but this type of stimulation will help you to orgasm. I want to ensure that first."

She shook her head, "Oh it feels so good, but I...I don't finish like that. I need..." In her state, words were hard to come by, "...the internal stimulation."

It took only a moment for him to process this, and then, "It does seem as if I am ready to fulfill this need." Her hand had been stroking him to hardness, but he was so focused on her he had barely noticed.

He pressed into her, slowly, each stroke entering her only a little more than the last, until one had a very pronounced reaction. Then he came up slightly on his knees, lifting her legs with him, sure that this angle would allow him better access to this most important spot. He began with short thrusts and was rewarded by her immediate cries.

"Yes, oh, Tech, yes, right there," thought her physical reaction would have been enough for him to know he had gotten it right. Her hands had grabbed onto the covers, clawing at the sheets. He timed himself to match the crescendo of her moans and whimpers, varying his strokes, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, then returning to stimulate this more sensitive area, watching the build up of tension in her body, noting how her arms moved in spasms, her eyes closed tight, her mouth whispering incoherently.

Suddenly her fingers were digging into his forearm, her cries a higher pitched staccato than what had come before, and he watched the orgasm overtake her body. She writhed under him, his thrusts against her sensitive inner wall bringing wave after wave of pleasure. As her reaction finally subsided, he lay over the top of her, kissing her deeply, drinking in everything about her, feeling almost more satisfied now than when he had had his own orgasm. He rocked into her gently, feeling the length of himself enclosed in her, enjoying this unimagined intimacy and reveling in the whole of her.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as close as she could, breathing him into her. He pressed his forehead to hers as he let the second orgasm flow through his body, kissing her, needing her, wanting her.

“Good job, Brown Eyes,” she smiled. “Hard to believe that was your first time.” She liked seeing that satisfied glint in his eyes that came from praise.

“Yes, well, there is always room for improvement, especially since there seem to be an infinite variety of positions, techniques, and implements that can be used to enhance—”

She silenced him with her lips. “Slow down. Let’s just enjoy tonight.”

And they did.

#tech x phee #pheetech #techphee #techphee smut #phee genoa #tbb tech #tech bad batch #bad batch #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #tech the bad batch #bad batch phee #tbb phee #phee tbb #the bad batch smut #tech smut #the bad batch

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kangals · 2 days

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way back in 2014, probably a few weeks or months after you posted that picture of boone with the stick on his head, i checked your blog out and so dearly enjoyed all the dogposting that i followed. i think you were the first dogblr blog i actually followed at the time, but it's been ages and my memory is bad, so i'm not fully sure. it wasn't long before then--2012 i think?--that i had gotten a new dog of my own, a border collie. iirc he and boone were just about the same age.

in 2018 i lost that blog i'd followed you with, and a lot of connections with it. i didn't return until 2021, and when i did, i didn't refollow most of the old blogs; i don't think i even really went looking for them. it took me a while to get back into the swing of using tumblr.

last september, my border collie had a sharp health decline, and i had to say goodbye. it's not the first time i've had to put a pet down, but i think it was the hardest. i'm still not over it. even just typing this now, i feel raw.

then in march or so, i made a new fandom friend who knows you, and i enthusiastically recalled following you before and how much i enjoyed it. i didn't even know about stellina, and now there's kep too! but... i also didn't know you'd lost boone. i followed because i still really enjoy your blog, and i love your collies too. and butters!!! so glad she's still here!

idk what made me look tonight... maybe because i talked about my old border collie with someone today. i went looking for the posts immediately around when you lost boone, because i guess some part of me wanted to know what happened. i spent the better part of an hour (maybe longer?) reading posts from the weeks before the decline, and then the loss, and then the deluge of old boone pictures after, and i've been crying pretty much the whole time just reading your posts and tags about him.

and this is a long and windy way to get to saying thank you. i'm glad you shared your grief, though that seems like a weird thing to say. there's something cathartic about crying over someone else's dog when you still hurt about your own, and knowing you're not alone in that kind of sorrow. boone was such a beautiful boy. i'll never forget that silly post that made me check your blog out in the first place, or the years of posts i stuck around for after. i wish i'd remembered to follow sooner, but the archive is still there, and it's so fun looking through all those old posts about him and his quirks and antics. he was amazing.

sorry for the length of this, i just... really wanted you to know that he touched yet another life, i guess. and i've been so deeply enjoying your posts about stellina and kep. i know it'll be a year soon... i hope there's some peace in how things have gone since he passed, and i hope the anniversary isn't too hard on you. thank you for sharing him with us.

i've been on tumblr for 14 years and this is, genuinely, the nicest ask i think i've ever been sent.

thank you - sincerely. there's been a lot of times over the course of this blog that i've felt like i was oversharing, or talking about pointless things only i cared about. i still so frequently start typing out a post only to stop mid-sentence and delete it because i can't help but think "no one cares about this." possibly it's why i like to talk about my pets so much - they're not me, but i'm the one who knows them best, so i get to say "hey look at this" and ramble and have people say "i'm looking" back. when boone passed, i lost that filter and i poured my grief out into this blog because it was the closest outlet i had. and to have hundreds of people not only acknowledge this but to commiserate, to reassure, to share their own stories - that helped healed me more than i can put into words. it's exactly as you said: there's a catharsis in grieving together.

i am sorry you also had to say goodbye. i wish i could say it gets easier, but i think that would be defeating the point of grief. your grief is your love and damn it if there isn't any act more loving in the world than choosing to say goodbye to an old, loyal dog. you think of how dogs were domesticated tens of thousands of years ago, of how human society and dogs have developed intertwined, of how we have records of ancient greeks and romans carving loving epitaths on their dog's graves, of how a prehistoric dog's skull was found with a bone placed in it's mouth after death, and you wonder if grieving a dog isn't one of the most consistent experiences in the whole of human history that there is.

i'm glad to know that this could bring you some comfort, in some way. it's incredibly touching to know that you kept me and boone in your thoughts for all this time. i am doing ok - i've been reflecting a lot as we approach the one-year mark. i'm not sure if i'll be able to condense those thoughts down into coherent words, but i'll do my best. i hope that my silly little pets continue to bring you some happiness, and that you've found peace with your own grief.

thank you, again - this is extremely touching and means a hell of a lot to me.

#i know exactly what you mean about reading posts about other peoples loss and grieving in camaraderie with them. i do that too #also mayhaps i am nosy sometimes and want to intrude. i cant help my nature to be a looky-loo #which is to say: you should never feel like you are intruding for doing so back to me.

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quarks-pussy · 7 months

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So I know we here at Startrekfandom love that "came back wrong but from the pov of the wrong" thing and apply it to many different characters and canon situations and I am far from trying to complain about it (I'm "came out wrong" trope myself so I was always gonna obsess over it) but having recently watched a very important episode (you'll know which one) for the first time I think there's a character who hits both tropes mentioned but llike, intertwined, opposite and subverted, and whom I wanna talk about.

Julian Bashir.

From his parents' pov he's "came out wrong but we got him help and he came back better" while from his own pov it's "came out 'insufficient', was destroyed for it, came back wrong and only later slowly came to terms with his new self tho never the process (justifiably so)" and it's heartbreaking because in a way, he's right! Jules Bashir died! His parents had an intellectually disabled child and decided to eugenics him! Julian is not the person he used to be and while I do love the person he is now, that doesn't bring back who he was! Part of me wishes we could've gotten to see Jules at least once and part of me hopes we never do because my heart would shatter.

This isn't a good comparison but nonetheless one I can't help drawing: it's giving similar vibes to anti-vaxxers. "I'd rather risk having a child who is dead than one who's autistic". Obviously this doesn't map over since Julian is still autistic and the procedure his parents subjected him to specifically targeted his intellectual disability and if any folks with id wanna comment on this I definitely recommend you listen to them over me, but it's a similarity I, as an autistic who has encountered anti-vaxxers again and again, can't help but point out. "Give me a normal child or give them death."

This may have been written about already but there needs to be stories about teenage Julian (after finding out and rediscovering who he was) practicing some good ol' recognition of the self through media. I need to hear about how he would encounter a story about someone who came back wrong (I'm gonna assume there's plenty of "wrong" pov stories floating around by the 24th century) and absolutely weep. I need to see Julian mourning Jules, taking years and years to process his feelings, experiencing guilt about how he, the imposter, didn't deserve to live Jules' life.

Came back wrong from the returned's pov but it wasn't an accident. It was done to you deliberately by the people who claim to love you. And now you are here, piloting the corpse of your predecessor.

Jules Bashir is dead. Long live Julian Bashir.

#i've called julian jules before simply as a normal nickname but i don't think i ever will again. not after this #and knowing that if it had been possible i would have probably gone the way jules did. knowing that at his age i would have gone willingly.#fuck dude i am literally actually crying literal tears irl right now this is not a joke #fuck!!!!!#julian bashir #jules bashir #doctor bashir i presume #came back wrong #star trek deep space nine #HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD!! HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD AND THEY KILLED HIM!!!!#i cannot stop crying i am literally crying and like not even just a little #i cannot... poor julian how the FUCK do you ever come to terms with something like that #and like... julian remembers. he has most if not all of jules' memories and also knows he was murdered simply for not being julian #like how did he cope #(im about to go off on a tangent that will contain censored names for the sake of not clogging those tags if you dont know who i mean hmu)#like this is literally the thing that fucked up j*ran so bad he went on a murder spree isn't it #he remembers the one who came before who was killed. very different circumstances of course esp since tr*ll are expected to replace one ano #another but he remembers this person he remembers BEING this person who was young and simply enjoying life and who died a sudden death and #he remembers the experience of that death as well and how it lead to his own creation. it's not remotely similar ofc but considering that #the only time we see t*rias in alpha canon is in julian's body... i need to lie down for a moment.#and jor*n couldn't cope! he couldn't! it was far too much and the weird thing is right now in this moment i GET it y'know?? like that's #so horrific. and i haven't watched any jo*an episode besides facets yet but do you think. do you think j*dzia told julian about all this an #he nodded along and kept composure and then when he was alone he broke down crying? like julian you're doing SO well ily you're coping and #you shouldn't have to obviously but you do nonetheless!! do you think julian still has something from jules? like i've heard there's a tedd #but i mean jules prolly didn't keep a diary he was a six year old with an intellectual disability it's pretty unlikely he could write but #does julian have drawings made by jules? i'd like to think so but honestly his parents probably threw them out. like they also moved so #sorry i'm just. many thoughts head full. ive stopped crying now but who knows for how long. also i'll have to tag this with my original tag #maybe i should've picked something less silly for when i make serious posts but like what am i gonna change my url as well? don't think so #original posts fresh from quark's pussy #and thats the tag limit folks it's been fun. i had to delete two other tags but my god. anyway. thinking about jules bashir forever & cryin

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dent-de-leon · 7 months

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wAIT just thinking about what Tal said...I really hope that doesn't imply that Lestera might have poisoned herself--

#IT PROBABLY DOESNT AND IM TAKING IT TOO LITERALLY BUT #i dont know i always thought her death was a bit...? strange...? theres no warning signs #i honestly believe theres every chance kylre mightve been feeding on her #and the way molly just goes 'oh no--' when they find out what hes been doing just. makes me think #i wonder if it was possible that we would have had a reveal like that if molly tried to confront kylre--or hell gUSTAV--about it--#but then again there is something about her death panel that strikes me as...odd timing #the fact that molly was out when it happened #that hed gone to get her favorite drinks and food--possibly at her request?--and then lestera was already gone when he came back--#i dont know it felt like they were supposed to meet up and maybe. she intended for molly to be out when she passed #and i hope thats not the case because. it would just be so sad and hurt him even more #this is just personal rambling but #the molly comic makes my heart heart ;;#tw suicide #please let me know if theres any other warning i should tag just in case

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supercutszns · 3 months

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Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky.

This year, there were two.

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls.

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love.

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day.

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen.

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility.

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him.

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you.

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away.

“You alright there, sunshine?”

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile.

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you.

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes.

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls.

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does.

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him.

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice.

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you.

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer.

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun.

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt.

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh.

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on.

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear.

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.”

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is.

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink.

You haven’t talked to him since.

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too.

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale.

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you.

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next.

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin.

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?”

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both.

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers.

He will not. Stop. Looking at you.

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there.

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way.

Luke, calling your name.

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him.

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear.

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks.

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.”

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it.

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!”

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly.

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.”

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in.

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth.

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

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saetoru · 9 months

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ STRAWBERRY FLAVORED — GETO SUGURU.

contents. here is a lil prequel to this btw, basically this is suguru’s shower scene but if he actually had someone to take care of him, reverse comfort, aka my extremely self indulgent drabble of fixing suguru before he turns into a mass murderer <3

it’s been a while—suguru has been in that shower for long enough that you’re starting to grow concerned. you contemplate for a bit, whether it’s a good idea or not to enter the boys shower, weighing the possibilities of being caught.

satoru’s not here, you reason, nanami and haibara are gone too, and yaga shouldn’t notice either—so, with a heavy sigh, you walk up to the door, opening it slowly. you can see him, standing as the water pours over his body, not even moving a little when you enter.

suguru is not the same—not after everything that’s happened. you can tell, you can see it under his eyes from the lack of sleep, you can see it in his cheekbones as they show a bit more from the lost weight, you can see it in the stiffness of his body when you’re around him. he’s not the same, and no one’s seem to have noticed, but you have. you always have.

you slowly strip from your clothing, walking up to him quietly until your arms circle his waist and your cheek rests against his bare back.

“baby,” you hum, “you’re turning into a prune. look at your skin,” you grab his hand, running a thumb over the tips of his fingers, wrinkly from the water.

he gives you an empty chuckle—you don’t think you’ve heard a real laugh from suguru since that day. “but aren’t i a handsome prune?” he mumbles.

“of course,” you kiss his shoulder, “the handsomest.”

“that’s a relief,” he says playfully—there’s nothing playful about his tone, though. it’s numb, automatic, like he’s trained himself to respond to you the way he always does. but you can feel it. he’s not the same.

“you’ve been in here a while. i got tired of waiting.”

“sorry,” he drops his hand from yours, falling limply to his side, “lost track of time, i guess.”

“suguru,” you say softly, “what’s wrong?”

he’s quiet, probably contemplating his answer. no one else might’ve noticed, but you have. you always do—he knows you always will. finally, he decides to answer, “are you really asking me that?”

“yes,” you say firmly, “i want to hear it. i want you to hear it. stop pushing it down.”

“i’m fine,” he mutters, “just tired.”

“i know,” you say softly, “i know you’re tired. what’s got you so tired?”

gently, your arms twist his body—he doesn’t put up a fight, just spins to face you until his face is digging into your neck on instinct. he can smell your body wash, can inhale the familiar scent of you from here. there are no curses to consume and no people to save at the risk of himself here, just the soft feeling of your skin and the warm press of your lips on his head.

riko would’ve liked you, he thinks. he can’t help it.

for a fleeting moment, when his hand was outstretched to her, he’d wondered if you’d like her too. he’d decided you would—you’re kind, you always have enough love for one more person. you’ll like riko, he’d thought. and then just like that, she’d been on the floor, dark pool of blood under her head.

you never got to meet her, and he never got to introduce you.

“what’s wrong, sugu?” you ask again, voice more delicate this time.

“everything,” he whispers.

he’s tired, so incredibly tired. suguru is exhausted. so for today, he’ll let you pick up the pieces. he doesn’t want to worry about you right now, doesn’t want to think about whether or not the edges will be sharp enough to slice your fingertips. suguru is exhausted—so for once, he lets you worry about him instead.

“i see,” you nod, letting your fingers trail to his head, stroking the wet strands gently as he trembles against your body, “everything is a lot. let’s start with just one, yeah?”

“i hate the taste of curses,” he spits, “it tastes like vomit.”

“that’s no good,” you agree, and then you’re pulling his head out of your neck—he wants to protest, wants to stay right where he is so he doesn’t have to face you, or anything. but you’re insistent, gentle as you are firm, cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. “can you still taste it?”

“yeah,” he nods. it’s true, he can’t forget the taste even if he tries. it’s like a phantom pain—but it resides on his tongue, haunting him long after it’s gone, even as he breathes and swallows and talks. “i hate it.”

your lips are on his after that, soft and sweet against his mouth. he can taste the strawberry of your chapstick, the familiar taste of you that he also could never forget. it washes down the vile taste of curses easily, so he leans in for more. and more. and more. he needs more.

“what about that?” you ask, stroking his cheek when you pull away, “how does that taste?”

“good,” he says shakily, “i…i like that.”

“i know you do,” you smile, pecking the corner of his mouth, “i can’t change how curses taste. but if i could, i’d make them strawberry flavored for you.”

he chuckles at that—it’s small, but it’s real. for the first time in a long time. it’s real.

suguru hates how curses taste, and you can’t change that, but you can help make swallowing become easier. he’ll take it—he’ll take anything you give.

“that might make the job easier,” he says, burying his face back into your neck, “they’d taste like you.”

“i’ll kiss you then,” you stroke his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. his lips wobble, vision turning blurry. suguru is tired—he doesn’t want to hold it in anymore. “after every curse you swallow, i’ll kiss you. it’ll make it easier.”

“i don’t know if it will,” he admits, “this….what do we do it for? none of it is easy.”

he used to think it was. fighting curses was easy—satoru and him were the strongest. fighting curses was like stepping on ants as they walk on the concrete, crushing them before they can bite anyone. but he starts to wonder if people deserve to be bitten, if the people who kick at ant piles mindlessly for fun deserve to be saved from themselves.

you think for a bit, contemplating his question as the water runs over both of your bodies, slipping into the thin crevices between your skin and his.

“it’s not,” you agree, “it’s not easy. i would’ve loved to meet riko. i know you wanted me to. i’m sorry, suguru.”

somewhere along with the water on your shoulder mixes his tears, and his body shakes against yours. suguru is tired. he’s tired of swallowing curses and tasting bile. he’s tired of pretending the weak are innocent. he’s tired of carrying so much weight on his young, innocent shoulders. they deserve to be free.

“is it worth saving them?” he asks as he sniffles, “if they clap over people like us dying?”

“people like us aren’t always so different,” you point out.

people like us don’t need saving, he wants to argue—but you don’t give him a chance to, turning the water off behind him as you stand there holding him as he leans into you.

“there will always be someone who needs to be saved,” you murmur, “and there will always be something they need to be saved from. it’s not always as simple as curses and exorcisms, though.”

“that doesn’t make any sense,” he frowns, “that’s the whole point of jujutsu. to exorcise curses.”

“and if we exorcised them all? would that make everyone safe?”

“maybe not,” he furrows his eyebrows, “but at least we wouldn’t be dying for them.”

“you never know,” you reach for the towel, slowly pulling away and patting his skin gently as you dry his dripping skin, “maybe you’d die from something worse.”

“what could be worse?” he asks bitterly. he doesn’t understand. but you smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you brush his bangs from his face.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “but i’m sure there’s something. there’s always something worse. but there’s always something better too.”

he still doesn’t completely understand. but the weight on his shoulder doesn’t feel as heavy when you lean and kiss it again—he feels like at least some of his youth is still his, still yours.

“you make no sense,” he grunts, scowling when you ruffle his hair obnoxiously with a giggle.

“well, maybe you’ll make sense of things after a nap,” you poke his chest accusingly, “you really need one. and then you’ll eat something. c’mon.”

“i don’t sleep with wet hair,” he reminds you as you tug him along, stopping where his clothes hang. you gesture at him to hold his arms up, grabbing his shirt. he rolls his eyes and indulges you, letting you dress him.

“i’ll dry it for you,” you chuckle, “my sugu is so high maintenance.”

and then, before you can turn to grab your own clothes, he tugs your wrist and pulls you in, kissing you hard, kissing you hungrily, kissing you like you’re all he has. just because he can. he can taste the last bits of your chapstick—he wants to keep tasting it forever. it’s strawberry, his favorite.

“i like strawberries,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “so don’t change the flavor.”

“okay,” you grin, cupping his cheeks, “i’ll always get strawberry for my sugu.”

he just needed a few kissies and he would’ve been fine. i guess i’ll take one for the team and kiss him a few times 😔 i guess i can take the responsibility of loving him 😔 i’ll be fine guys no need to worry about me 😔

#operation: heal suguru!#teepods.writings #drabbles.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fluff #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 1 month

Note

Hi can we please have fluff w Aventurine where reader and him reunite after 2. 1 and just fucking elope start a new life etc? Please I need it.

God yes. This is what we all need after 2.1. I'm aware he is in a coma-like state technically now but for the sake of fluff and this headcanon he is awake from that coma and is now reuniting with you. CW: Spoilers for 2.1 and Aventurines actual name, starts angsty but then turns fluffy, Gn reader, pre established relationship hurt/comfort

I am still accepting requests (especially for aven) btw so if you wanna see something send it in!

Back in your arms

You had lost track of how long it was since Aventurine left for his mission in Penacony. Has it been 2 months? No, probably more. It had been months since you last had been able to make contact with him. Your messages no longer went through, unable to be sent.

Looking at your textlog and scrolling up, you came across the last message he had sent you. It had come in while you were asleep, and it simply read “I love you”.

Waking up to that message would have been a sweet message for most people, but for you it had made you immensely worried.

Aventurine was never someone who professed his love openly, so such messages were quite rare. Receiving such a message, especially unprompted, made you send him a barricade of texts, none of which went through and even now months later none were able to be sent.

If you were honest you were starting to lose hope of ever seeing him again, who knows what happened in Penacony after all? He could be…dead for all you knew, you had no way to verify whether that was true or not after all.

You tried continuing your life on as you would normally, what else could you do? It was hard though, everyday you missed him more and more. Sometimes you imagined his face in a crowd somewhere but whenever you would take a closer look he would vanish.

Sighing you closed your phone and looked around your apartment, it felt so liveless ever since Aventurine was gone. Tears were falling down your eyes as you wondered how much longer you had to live with the uncertainty of where he was and if he was even alive.

Exhaustion was taking over as you began falling asleep. A common occurrence nowadays, since at night you were restless, unable to fall asleep as you worried. Just as you were beginning to fully doze off, you heard the door to your apartment open, immediately waking up.

No one but you and Aventurine had the key, and with him being absent panic coursed through you thinking someone was breaking and entering. You grabbed the nearest heavy thing to defend yourself with.

“For fucks sake…” You muttered as you made your way to where the noises were coming from. Cursing every entity out there for piling even more shit onto you as if your significant other being possibly dead wasn’t enough.

Readying your weapon (probably a heavy book) you stepped foot into the room where the noise was coming from ready to attack and hit the intruder. But once you saw who it was that was in your appartment, you dropped your makeshift weapon, a sob escaping your mouth.

Before you stood Aventurine, alive and breathing. You rubbed your eyes, making sure that this wasn’t your mind playing a cruel trick on you again. Aventurine watched you with a smirk on his, albeit very exhausted looking, face and his eyes held a new found softness you had never seen before.

You fell into his arms immediately, holding him tightly against your body, feeling his warmth. Desperately you grabbed at his clothes as you held on to him, scared this was all just a dream and you would wake up all alone once again. Tears were falling from your eyes, unable to hold them back, the relief washing over you making you let out all of your emotions.

“Wow you missed me that much?” He asked, in his usual teasing tone. Though there was something in his voice that usually wasn’t there. Desperation and a bit of fear. Was he afraid you wouldn’t have missed him? Or was there a deeper reason for it?

Moving away from the hug you grabbed his face in your hands, the tears still falling from your eyes as you took a good look at him. His face had fallen in, and he seemed exhausted. But there was also something in his eyes, his beautiful eyes you were so sure you would never see again, that you couldn’t recognize, having never seen it on him before.

Before you spoke your first words to him, you pulled his face closer and gently kissed him. The feeling of his lips on yours felt like you were floating in heaven. They may have been more chapped than usual, but fuck was it nice to feel him again. Breaking the kiss you finally were able to muster up your first words to him.

“Fuck…I was so worried about you…I…When my messages stopped being able to sent I was…so sure you…Please…never worry me like that again Aventurine…”

You leaned your forehead against his, your words jumbled together from the adrenaline coursing through you.

He took in a deep breath, and held it for a moment before letting it out. A gesture you saw in many people before they needed to say something important and heavy, but one you never saw in your lover.

“...Kakavasha…” His voice seemed unsure and meek as he spoke.

You, of course, had no idea what he was saying, so you looked into his eyes confused.

“Wha-”

“Kakavasha…it is…my given name. The one my mother gave me” He inhaled deeply before he continued.

“It is a long story but the short version is…I am no longer affiliated with the IPC, they probably think I died or something. So I no longer go by Aventurine, and…with how close we are and how much you mean to me. I felt like it was appropriate for you to know my true name...”

His eyes refused to look at you, flickering about unsurely as he spoke. Though he tried to sound confident, his voice wavered, scared that you would not accept him for who he truly was and reject his true self.

You looked at him gently and with all the love you had for him, gently pulling him close again and kissing his nose.

“Well then…It is nice to meet you Kakavasha…” You smiled brightly at him, showing him you accepted him as he was.

He felt relief course through his body and could not help himself but pull you into a passionate kiss. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive. As if he would die without you.

Breaking the kiss he whispered “Marry me.” It wasn’t a question but a request. One that you were too stunned to answer to, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I mean it. Let’s get married, run away from everything and start a new life just you and me.”

His eyes were pleading with you to agree. He knew that he wanted to start over, but he knew he needed you with him.

“...yes!!” You once again fell into his arms and kissed him. The two of you holding each other so closely it was as if you were one.

Kakavasha knew that he would need to tell you everything that happened in Penacony at one point, even the part where he tried to end his life. But he knew that if he explained everything to you, you would still stay by his side and be with him.

You were his family after all.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail spoilers #hsr spoilers #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #honkai aventurine #kakavasha #aventurine fluff #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x you #hsr x you #hsr 2.1

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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

bruised knees

words: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of blowjobs, losing virginity, virgin!reader (but fic is not smut), jealous! and overprotective!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, fluffy

rafe has been beyond overprotective of you his whole life. ever since you met in first grade and you let him borrow your brand new crayon box, only for a bully to come up and tug on your pigtails, causing rafe to pause his coloring to shove him away and tell him not to touch you ever again.

you smiled at rafe, the same smile you look at him with now, and he knew he would take care of you no matter what. you hugged him tightly and from that day on always shared your crayons, and everything else you had, with your new best friend.

“ready?” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the boat.

“yes!” you squeal, trying to navigate holding your tote bag and backpack at once, when suddenly both are out of your hands as rafe takes them and carries them down the pier.

“rafe, i can carry my own stuff.” you roll your eyes. it's a losing battle, your best friend will always lessen your load, hating seeing you do any sort of physical labor, feeling like that's his job.

“yeah, whatever.” rafe just ignores your argument, it's one he's heard so many times before, yet you make no attempt to take the bags back. “who all did you invite again?” rafe asks as you enter onto the boat, quickly beginning preparations for the day at sea, having gone through the motions so many times, knowing the boat like the back of your hand even though it's the cameron familys.

“uhh, topper, tina, kelce, steph, tiffy and hayden.” you go through the list of names in your head of friends that will be joining you and rafe on the yacht.

“how is tiffy since the break up?” rafe asks, knowing you like to talk while you work, pulling various lines while you straighten up the boat to make it more presentable, going through the motions together, always together.

rafes question launches you into a gossip session with rafe, spilling all the secrets your friends told you at your last hang out, but they know you don't keep anything from rafe, so it's no surprise when he knows as well, not that any of the girls would complain, rafe often takes over the role of protector to your friends as well, caring about who you care about.

“there's hayden!” you call to rafe, pointing down the dock to the parking lot where haydens truck just pulled in, a few minutes earlier than you expected anyone to start arriving.

“great.” rafe mumbles under his breath, making sure you don't hear his upset tone. he liked hayden at first, sharing some common interests (mostly golf), but then hayden got far too touchy with you, his gaze heating when it turned to you in a way that infuriated rafe, and he made sure to show hayden when you weren't around how much it pissed him off.

rafe is probably to credit for you never having a boyfriend for an extended period of time, but he can't help it, you're so perfect and no guy can possibly deserve you, so he has to scare them off before you get too invested and give them all of your attention instead of him.

“hey, heyds.” you greet him with a hug after he makes his way down the pier, making rafe grunts as haydens hand rests a little too low on your back for his liking, making rafes mind reel at the possibility of something going on between the two of you.

your other friends slowly begin to pile onto the boat, steph being the last one to get there as she is notorious for being late, which is why you told her to show up half an hour before everyone else, and somehow still managed to get there last.

“ready for takeoff?” you ask rafe, stepping away to join him at the wheel while your group of friends find places to sit while rafe navigates the boat towards the ocean.

“i am.” rafe nods, having disconnected the last line. no matter what is happening, you always sit next to rafe on the bench as he directs the boat, ready to be his second in command at any moment, even if its just fetching him a drink or checking the water depth.

“i can’t wait to swim.” you say with a sigh, having not gotten out into the water all week, which is rare with how much peace you find in the ocean.

“how about that one sandbar we took wheezie to?” rafe questions, wanting you to decide where he anchors the boat.

“ooh, yes.” you nod.

“she complained to me last night that you weren’t over.” rafe smiles at you when you let out a laugh.

“i don’t spend one friday night and she complains! ugh, i love that girl.” you grin thinking about wheezie, treating her like she’s your own little sister, having known her since she was born.

“you’ll stay tonight, right?” rafe asks, missing you sharing his bed like you do every weekend.

“mhm, i’m not driving home after being out on the boat all day, gonna be so exhausted.” you roll your eyes.

rafe smiles at you, wrapping one arm around his shoulder, leaving him to drive with one hand, but wanting you close to him, secretly hoping hayden would look through the windows from the lower deck and see you all cuddled up into his side.

neither of you have ever broached the topic of taking things beyond just friendship, despite rafe desperately wanting to take things further, he doesn’t want to mess up the one good thing he has in his life. you’re such a source of brightness that when you’re around him he forgets all about his fights with his dad, or issues with barry.

“here.” rafe nods to you, immediately going to drop the anchor, planning to stay in one spot all day.

you help him make sure its secure before moving to the main deck with everyone else. “alright, who is ready to swim?” you shout with glee.

“you know i am.” hayden smirks at you, pulling his shirt off over his head.

“mhm, that’s why i like you, not afraid to get wet.” you say, rafe carefully watching the interaction, unsure if you meant the innuendo or not.

you take your tshirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile that everyone is making on the sofa, revealing swimsuits underneath their clothes. rafe also undresses, but slowly and quietly.

you tug your yoga pants down next, having kicked your shoes off upon entering the boat. you turn towards rafe, always checking in with him, seeking him out amongst the crowd.

rafe smiles at you, his eyes dropping subtly down your body, quickly checking out your pale lilac swimsuit before he sees a different shade of purple, this time blossoming around your knees.

hayden seems to notice too, a smirk growing on his face when he sees the localized bruises.

“what the fuck did you do?” rafe grunts out before he can stop himself and use the calming methods you so carefully taught him.

“what?” hayden turns to look at rafe, but he’s already charging at him. rafe shoves hayden backwards, making him stumble but he manages to maintain his footing.

“rafe, chill!” you shout, grabbing at his arm.

“did he-did you fucking blow him?” rafe questions, pointing to your knees. “how did you get those bruises?” “jesus, rafe!” you take a step back, but don’t drop your grip on his arm, not sure if he would try to pull away. “you seriously ask me that in front of all our friends? for your information i was working out in the garden yesterday and bruised my knees kneeling on the pavers. but thanks for embarrassing me.”

you drop his arm when you feel tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning and sprinting into the interior of the boat.

you throw yourself onto the bed in one of the two bedrooms, hiding your face in the white pillow as you cry.

“y/n…” rafe says softly. you don’t jump at his voice, you expected him to follow you, but you don’t feel like talking to him.

“please, y/n.” rafe pleads, and you feel his weight dip the bed down as he climbs onto the mattress.

“stop it.” you whine when rafe pulls you into him, but you don’t struggle as he cuddles into you, pressing a kiss against your hair. you’ve cuddled rafe before, of course since you’ve been friends for so long, but never with this little clothing on, and you are very aware of how much of his bare skin is touching yours.

“i didn’t mean to embarrass you, y/n. i just… i just got so angry thinking about you possibly doing anything with hayden. i don’t like him. he’s not good enough for you.”

“why would you even think i would do that though? you know im a virgin.”

the words shock rafe, and you can physically feel him tense up. you pick up your head to look at him, brows furrowed together.

“i-i didn’t know that.” rafe just assumed you lost it to one of your short term boyfriends.

“no… no i would have told you, rafey. you’re my best friend, i… you told me when you lost yours.” you remind rafe of when he was 16 years old and had sex for the first time, calling you only an hour after to confide in you, partly hoping you would get jealous.

“i thought you knew that i wouldn’t want to hear about you sleeping with someone. i guess i just figured you kept it to yourself for my sake.” rafe doesn’t realize the implication of his words as they flow from between his lips.

“why would i?- wait… you like me?” you blink up at him.

rafe pauses. now is as good as time as any, especially with the growing threat of hayden and other guys who aren’t scared of rafe potentially taking you away from him. “yes. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since first grade.” “holy shit, you asshole!” you shout, and it’s not the reaction rafe was expecting as he tenses, waiting for you to run off, or get mad, but instead your shout turns into a laugh, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” and then your lips are on his, finally feeling the perfect meld of your mouths together as rafe quickly snaps into action, his lips moving against yours as he cups your face.

“i love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious.” you whisper against his mouth before resuming the kiss.

“thank fuck, i was ready to murder hayden just because i thought you liked him.” rafe laughs, tugging on your waist to bring your bodies even closer together, leaving his large hand resting against your bare back.

“pshht.” you shake your head. “he’s not even half the man you are.”

“holy shit, i love you.” rafe repeats, taking you in for another kiss.

“my friends are never gonna believe that we finally got together.” you giggle. “i think they’ve all placed bets.”

“your friends?” rafe shakes his head. “baby, i think even our parents have.”

“i… i’m really happy we admitted are feelings.” you say shyly, a blush covering your cheeks as you look down, breaking eye contact. “everyone told me that you liked me too but i was too nervous to ruin what we had.”

“hey, it’s okay.” rafe says softly. “we have forever this way.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes again as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head into his bare chest.

“gosh, i can’t wait to go tell everyone.” you admit with a giggle.

“yeah? wanna go get in the water too?” rafe asks, unsure if your friends waiting for your argument to be over to swim.

“hell yeah.” you slide off the bed, rafe taking a minute to check out your body, not hiding his heated gaze as you catch him.

“holy shit, you are checking me out!”

“duh, you’re my girl now.” rafe smirks, also getting off the bed, placing an arm around your shoulder. “gonna give you bruised knees for a different reason, baby.”

“wait, rafe-” you begin, suddenly not feeling like swimming anymore, but he pulls you out onto the deck, seeing all your friends sitting awkwardly on the sofas, waiting for whatever argument to be over with.

“don’t worry baby.” rafe drops his mouth to your ear, making sure your friends can’t hear. “we can talk about that virginity of yours later.” rafe doesn’t give you a second to respond, placing his fingers on your chin and tilting your head towards him to press a kiss to your lips to the chorus of all of your friends letting out woops and claps, along with shouts of “finally!”

“i told you!” tiffy shouts, holding her hand out towards stephanie. “you owe me 20 bucks!”

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hyunnie04 · 5 months

Text

cat and mouse

summary: your co-worker has been on your case ever since you've started your time at the company. a strange turn of events and circumstance changes all that.

pairing: coworker! lee know x reader

trope: enemies to lovers <3, office au

genre: slight angst, smut, and fluff

warnings: fem-bodied reader, oral, creampie, overstim, unprotected sex, bulge kink, spitting, etc. 18+ mdni

word count: 9.8k

a/n: a little practice piece for you guys, i hope i did well;; so sorry this took me so long to write :( i also hope it's cohesive enough, i keep writing this fic on and off sleep deprived lol

tick…

tock…

tick…

to-

“the clock isn’t going to speed up just because you keep staring at it.” the cubicle beside you chirps in, momentarily shaking you out of your thoughts. by now, you’ve trained to pay him no mind as you keep your focus on the clock that reads 4:56 pm, almost taunting you in a way.

a few more minutes and you’ll be home free for the weekend. maybe you can finally relax and get away from your dreaded paperwork. perhaps look through your shopping apps since you had nothing else better to do for the weekend, or better yet- you could run a well deserved bath with that bath bomb you always wanted to use but never got a chance to. all the possibilities sounded heavenly although all that would have to actually wait until you get home.

one other thing that you had been anticipating all day was having that dinner after work with jeongin- your close friend and coworker from a different department. he had been begging you for ages to finally try that one soba place that opened up nearby with him. you being a good friend, agreed.

“you might actually melt the clock if you keep doing that y’know.” your cubicle neighbor- lee minho smirks, now standing and leaning over your workspace.

"what do you want?" pointedly asking him.

"oh, nothing. nothing."

“you just don’t ever shut up, do you?” you deadpan and tilt your chin up to stare at him, minho just offers a sly smirk in return. he always liked to bother and butt into your business for some odd reason.

minho shrugs, “it’s fun teasing you. you do that thing where you scrunch your nose when you get riled up.” a vain visibly pops up from your forehead, but turn to your computer, hoping to drown him out with your typing.

you knew better than to give him a reaction. if you had a penny for how many times that particular vein popped from your forehead because of minho, you’d probably be a millionaire by now.

“oh, one more thing-” the brown haired man saunters back to his desk, and comes back to yours with a huge stack of papers. he unceremoniously plops it down, the annoying feline-like grin on his face.

“what’s…this?” raising an eyebrow at him, you hope it's not what you think he's planning. you have plans. he crosses his arms and pushes his framed glasses back.

“paperwork, of course.” you wanted to strangle him. “yes, i’m well aware that this is paperwork. why is it now on my desk?”

before you could protest any further, “they want this finished by next week.” he leans to practically whisper in your ear. minho grins mischievously after he sees your pink flustered face take a step back.

the humongous stack was already on his desk, so your boss most likely assigned it to him in the first place. you furrow your eyebrows and turn to him, worst fear coming true.

"ohh no. not in a million years." you get up from your seat, avoiding the offending pile. he starts going back to his desk, neatly placing his things in it's organizers.

“why can’t you finish it? you- what are you doing?” but minho was already grabbing his bag and blazer and looking at his wrist watch.

“would you look at the time- thanks for covering for me!” aaaand he's gone.

plopping down on your chair, you bury your face in your hands, stopping yourself from pulling out hair. frustration creases on your forehead. well, you could kiss that dinner with jeongin goodbye. now you definitely want to strangle him.

lee minho. if you were to find a personification of the word annoying, the brunette would certainly be it. that man has done nothing but annoy the hell out of you ever since you started your time in the company. other people in your department often regarded him as one of the most reliable and polite employees here.

you would inwardly scoff at the frequent mention of minho and his apparent “reliable-ness and politeness” since all he was, was just the opposite. to you at least. it was hard to believe at first.

but then you actually saw the way he carried himself with effortlessness and composure, handled business affairs, and how he mingled so seamlessly with fellow colleagues. it was nothing short of professional.

so you had a theory that he was only like that towards you. a complete dick only to you. you although weren’t quite sure why.

the girls in your department would often talk about him as well, mostly for his appearance. you really weren’t one for gossiping but you would listen in sometimes, curious about what they see in him. it was hard not to when they would gush about their workplace crushes and love lives so openly, a tinge of envy seeps through your bones every time it would be mentioned. you have got to get laid one day.

“he’s totally my type, you think i should ask him out?” your other cubicle neighbor says quite loudly during her break. her friend beside her shakes their head, “no, no you can’t.”

“why not? isn't he hot and available?” she asks absentmindedly. you start to zone out for a minute, only catching bits and pieces of their conversation. but you contemplate about what she said for a second, you would be lying if you said that lee minho was unattractive.

far from that actually. distinctly remembering catching a few glimpses of him from your first day, intrigued and interest piqued. his sharp nose and cheek bones, features were like sculpted by michaelangelo himself, his toned and lean figure accentuated by the perfectly well fit suit that he always seem to wear.

you definitely found him attractive at first.

that was until he started annoying you, so all of that was quickly out the window.

but you would probably end yourself before admitting that to anyone. you let out a disgruntled sigh, appearance wouldn’t really matter if he wasn’t such a knob to begin with.

as you approached your dimly lit street, all you could think about was that feline faced jerk. what was he thinking, dumping all that work on you last minute? you felt really bad about cancelling on jeongin, texting him earlier about the sudden change of schedule. the dark haired man you've come to know just replies with a little;

'we'll just try again next week lol'

you breathe out a relieved sigh, thankful that he wasn't mad. kicking the pebbles on the side of the road, you imagined that the little rocks were minho's face. you could not wait until you get home.

“stupid paperwork, stupid minho, stupid…”

your muttering fades and you suddenly stop in your tracks as your elderly neighbor waves you over from her front door, grandma lee or just grandma- as she insists you call her instead.

you bowed and greeted her, “hi grandma, did you need something?” you were quite close with the sweet old lady, her gray hair swaying lightly in the wind.

the elder would often check up on you after hearing that you traveled all the way from your hometown to the city, almost taking you in as her own. you were grateful for the company since homesickness would often creep up. she would also often bring you comically large jars of kimchi which you appreciated greatly.

she smiles as she gestures to the multiple bags she was holding, "i just need a little help getting these inside the house, dear." you take the heavy bags from her hands. what were in these, rocks? grandma claps her hands together in remembrance.

“have you had dinner yet? i made extra.”

grandma sets a bowl in front of you, the sight of seaweed soup instantly brings you comfort. your stomach grumbles as you dig in. she watches you intently as you practically inhale the soup, starved from the long and terrible day you had.

you sent her a polite questioning look. “i want to ask you for a favor.” she finally starts, flicking through the channels of her tv. the weather was on, the forecaster droning on about rain happening this week in the same monotone voice for the past 10 minutes. you look at her and nod immediately, she had done so much for you, doing a few favors aren't going to hurt.

“do you have a car, dear?”

blowing on the steaming hot seaweed soup, you nod again at her question, wondering where this conversation is heading.

“i need someone to drive me to my son’s house tomorrow, i'm staying over there for the weekend and my bags are a little heavy. would that be alright with you, dear?” you’ve heard about her family from her stories when she would have you over like now, little bits and pieces. you smile and agree.

a cheshire grin graces your features after a moment. “what’s in it for me?” it was a joke of course, grandma knew it too. having spent a large amount of time with her, your humor must’ve rubbed off at some point.

you didn’t expect her to actually answer but she replies, “actually, i’d like you to meet my grandson as well. i think you two would get along. he's the same age as you too.”

the aforementioned grandson was someone you’ve seen in a bunch of grandma lee’s hallway pictures. you remember that he was an only child, often the only kid and the lone subject in the photos. your favorite was the kid in red with a toothy grin. he must’ve been 5 when it was taken.

"it was a joke, grandma. i'm sure your grandson wouldn't want a stranger suddenly coming to meet him." she shakes her head,

"nonsense. that boy doesn't know what he wants." you laugh at her persistence. getting another bowl of rice, you ponder her offer for a second. maybe this could finally cure your dull and dry love life, it couldn't hurt to try. if worse comes to worst, you could just pretend it never happened.

“but of course, i’ll drive you there. i have nothing to do anyways.” you say with a mouthful of rice. grandma pats you on the back and continues to flick through the channels once more.

“thank you dear.”

the sunset blears through your windshield, sun rays momentarily blinding you. it was clear as day. the ride to her family’s house was relatively quiet, the elderly lady in your passenger seat preferred to sleep the whole ride through after handing you the address, giving you a moment to leave you in your thoughts.

pulling up to the neighborhood, you let out a low whistle. the house was at the end of the street, steep and uphill. it was surely going to be a struggle to get the car way up there.

you get to the curb, reverse and try to park your car as best as you can. the house was really pretty, you thought. it looked pretty lived in too, but in a cozy way. vines was sprawled all over the brick exterior and flowers had bloomed all over the property.

you wake up grandma and start to haul her luggage up and out the car.

"you go up, grandma. i'll catch up."

after struggling to get the multiple bags of luggage up hill, you finally waddle to the front door. the door was left slightly ajar, probably for your convenience. you took a quick peek around, hoping for someone to let you in.

calling out before entering, you were met with silence. you figured they were too busy catching up so you eventually let yourself in.

the furniture adorning the hallway and rooms were made out of wood, the handiwork and craftsmanship was evident, intricate carvings on each and every one of them. it must’ve been made by grandma lee’s son as you’ve heard from her many stories.

a ginger cat with white stripes greets you as you enter the front door, it strides over to you in intrigue. leaning down and dropping grandma's bags gently, you let the feline sniff your hand before allowing itself to be pet. soon enough it starts rubbing its body on your legs and purring loudly. adorable cat, you thought.

silence fills the house, aside from the soft chatter coming from the other side of the wall. the cat leaves it's spot, not wanting to be pet anymore. you sit up and observe the house again, noticing a myriad of family photos adorning the walls and some of the tables.

coming closer to one of the pictures, again, you encounter the same young boy in red but this time he was wearing a cap sideways and a puffer jacket that seemed to be way too big for him.

"hello! you must be y/n!" a feminine voice suddenly calls out from the living room. you straighten your back from the mention of your name, hoping she didn't catch you closely staring at their personal and probably private photos. grandma lee comes out from the living room as well and walks towards you with a younger and kind looking woman in tow. she had another cat in her arms, this time it's coat was gray with dark streaks.

you smile and greet her politely, exchanging pleasantries. you quietly pick up the neglected bags and place them near the guest room. they continue their conversation with each other from before, you now awkwardly standing in the middle. looking at your wrist watch, you figured you should probably head on home.

"i suppose i'll get going now, it was really nice meeting you." mrs. lee looked startled at your sudden announcement.

"why don't you stay for a while? it must've been a long drive here, you're probably hungry." these two women weren't related by blood but they practically were, having the same idea when it came to hospitality.

"well, i don't want to overstay my welcome. i'm just here to give grandma a ride." smoothening out your non-existent clothes wrinkles in apprehension.

she waves her hand in dismissal, "but you must stay, you're already here anyways." she grins and pats your back. mrs. lee didn't seem to budge at your refusal.

you relented, finally accepting her offer. "my son is in the kitchen whipping something up. he's a great cook." you totally forgot about her son being actually here. the joke offer from yesterday completely forgotten and flew out of your mind. slight embarrassment runs through you, realizing that the offer was somewhat serious. you would surely need to mentally prep yourself for more socialization than you've anticipated.

but you instantly believe her claim that her son was a great cook, the amazing and aromatic smell of what seems to be steak and multiple herbs and spices from the kitchen wafts through out the entire house.

"okay- while we're waiting," mrs. lee gestures for you to take a seat, "you should go sit on the couch, y/n. i've been dying to meet you."

she hands you a mug of hot tea and sits down next to you. "mom here talks about you all the time, thank you for keeping her company."

"it's no problem at all, i like her company too." and with that, the three of you fall into a smooth and comfortable rhythm of conversation. the younger of the two women across from you continues to poke and prod into life, not that you minded. she would ask you about your life, where were you from, where you went to school, and where you went to work and among other things.

she offers you stories of her son gleefully in return, laughing about a particularly embarrassing story when he was younger. you learned that he was quite fond and talented in dancing, loves cats, and loves to cook. oddly enough mrs. lee never mentioned his name at all, you didn't want to pry. now that you've thought about it, grandma hadn't mentioned his name at all either. all you had for a lead was initials you remember seeing etched on one of grandma's photos. you figured you'd meet this person soon enough anyways.

after a while, grandma lee retreats to the guest room they've set up, assuming that she'd want to fix her belongings. mrs. lee starts to drag you around the house, urging you to help her set the plates up and talk more while doing so. midway through placing the chopsticks on the table, the sound of pots and pans clanging from the other room shakes you out of your thoughts.

"mom?" a voice calls out from their kitchen. it must be her son. you slightly raise your eyebrows, he sounds oddly familiar but you can't place your finger who he might've sounded like. you quickly brush it off.

"yes?"

"have you seen the slow cooker?" the man finally reveals himself and pokes his head through the entryway to the kitchen.

you lift your head and lock eyes with the said person. shock freezes your movements, dropping the utensils that you were holding. blinking owlishly in surprise, you weren't sure if what you were seeing was real.

you feel the wind knock out of your lungs. this was not happening. the brown eyes, brown hair, and cat like face from work that you've come to dislike stared back. you must be hallucinating.

standing across from you was lee minho, the lee minho. grandma lee’s grandson. the same one that's been tormenting you all year round. you just couldn't believe it, wondering what kind of luck you had to end up here.

you think back to when you looking (--more like snooping) at grandma lee's framed hallway photos, the kid- that was him all along? you're really bad at recognizing faces, you thought to yourself. well, she certainly made him seem like a complete angel from the stories.

"oh! this is y/n. your grandmother invited her to eat dinner with us." mrs. lee pulls your figure closer into a side hug and beams at her son.

he furrows his eyebrows at you, glancing back and forth at you and his mother. he must be as confused and shocked as you are. "hi." minho says, nodding at your direction. you purse your lips and shuffle uncomfortably in place.

minho again asks where the slow cooker was since the first time he asked was ignored. he was wearing a loose fitting shirt, his broad shoulders looking more prominent. you realize you've never seen him outside of his work attire before. he looked comfortable, domestic even.

his mom says to check the cupboards, paying him no mind and continuing to set the table up. minho nods slowly, eyes not leaving yours and heads back to the kitchen. a little shell shocked about your little encounter, you clear your throat and go back to the task at hand. you'd just have to deal with this for the evening and then you could go home.

when the table was done, mrs. lee turns to you, "y/n? would you mind helping minho over there with bringing the side dishes to the table?" you freeze at the realization that you would have to interact with him alone.

"sure." you say meekly. she thanks you and goes to the guest room to presumably get the older lady for dinner. psyching your self up before entering the kitchen, his broad back facing you. he senses your presence and chuckles.

you were sure he was going to make this whole night unbearable.

"well, this is a nice surprise."

"what are you doing here?" stupid question from you seeing as this was his own house. mentally face palming your head, he hums smugly and starts dividing the side dishes onto smaller plates. you notice his very toned arms flexing as he puts the tubs away.

"i should be asking you that. i didn't expect you to be here." he says nonchalantly, but you could feel a sly smile forming on his face as he speaks.

"neither did i." you grumble and lightly shove him aside, wanting to get the side dishes out to the table already. you ignore the way he looks so domestic right now.

you stare at him from directly across the table, hoping he would keep his mouth shut. he smirks while he eats, purposefully riling you up and glancing at you with a knowing grin.

do not lose your cool, y/n.

silence rings out the dining room aside from the quiet clattering of utensils on plates.

"y/n?"

"i'm sorry?" you snap out of your little less than friendly staring contest with him.

"do... you know each other?" his mother finally breaks the silence and here eyes flickers back and forth between both of you.

"yes-"

"no-"

a full on headache is surely forming now, it's going to be hard to hide your annoyance. quick, think of a lie.

"we're coworkers. same company." you grimace as he answers for the both of you. no use in hiding it now. "oh! that's wonderful." the older lady to your right clasps her hands in delight.

"you didn't tell me you worked together." grandma turns to you grinning brightly. you avoid eye contact with her, nodding and forcing out a smile. you wanted nothing more than want the ground to swallow you up right then and there.

"you two must be close." his mother says, sipping at her drink. you were about to open your mouth to say that you really aren't actually, but minho beats you to the punch.

"we kind of are." minho rests his elbows on the table and turns to you. he's enjoying this. the bastard was enjoying this. resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back to finish your meal.

hatred for the man aside, he really was a great cook as mentioned countless of times. you actually find yourself enjoying the meal he had prepared.

"tell me what you two get up to at work, i want to hear all of it."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, being honest wouldn't be the best idea. you didn't want these two lovely women to know how much of an unpleasant man their son and grandson is. and it was his house after all, the best decision might be to at least be civil with him.

so you play along with his facade, not wanting to disappoint them even if it was probably going to bite you in the ass later.

minho starts cutting the meat up into bite sized pieces while the conversation between the two ladies continue. he places it on your plate without saying anything. this takes you by surprise, looking at his face for an answer.

the two audience members among the dining table seems to have noticed your little exchange. a wrinkly hand touches over yours catches your attention.

"oh, so are you two..." she trails off, implication heavy on her tone.

"no- no, grandma. i told you i wasn't seeing anyone." you shoot a discrete glare towards minho.

"ah, i see..."

you shrink down your seat for the remainder of the hour, embarrassment flooding your being. why did he have to do that? you were already practically fighting for your life not to get too involved with all this, and he pulls that?

after that very eventful dinner, it was already nearing 8 pm. you figured that you should probably get out of their hair, not wanting to disturb them than you already had. that bubble bath and movie marathon you had planned in your head sounded amazing right about now. maybe that would help you forget about this crazy night.

"grandma," she turns in response, "i think i better get going." you smile at her, digging through your pockets for the car keys. a different cat from the other two that you've met takes long strides, stopping by your feet. you greet it by petting it's head gently. you wondered how many cats they have.

"now? look at the weather dear," you look briefly at the window nearest you, surely enough it was heavily pouring. you deflate at the sight.

"i don't think it's a great idea to drive out in a storm." she looks at you in concern. crap. the conversation at dinner must've carried you away, not even noticing the angry rumble of thunder that came from the sky. she was right, you don't think you could drive out there immediately.

the last time you drove into hard pelting rain, you couldn’t see through the windshield and almost crashed your car in the process. you could still remember how your car swerved and screeched when you couldn't control the way the tires' direction.

reluctantly dropping your hands to your side in defeat, "i guess i can wait it out for a bit." you finally say.

"yes, please do stay. we made extra dessert!" mrs. lee chuckles, seemingly enjoying your presence. glancing at minho, he was leaning on the side of the couch watching the exchange between you three, uncharacteristically silent and expression unreadable.

you reckon he wasn't all that thrilled about the whole thing either.

"the storm isn't letting up." minho sighs next to you, observing the dark and heavy rain pelting the window. it continues to pour down, filing in the silence.

"great." you mumble lowly, crossing your arms. a loud cackle of thunder makes you jump from your spot. he just laughs in response. you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, anxiety quietly eating at you. damn weather man. you should've paid more attention to the forecast.

the smart watch on your wrist flashes with a notification. it was 11 pm now. "you should stay until tomorrow, dear."

you feel a comforting hand on your back, it was mrs. lee. it was only her staying with you two right now since grandma had already retired back to her room.

"tomorrow? oh, i- uh... i don't want to intrude." you stutter and look down, unsure how to accept her offer. but as much as you wanted to turn her down, you knew deep down you don't really have a choice in the matter.

another strike of thunder confirms your pitiful situation.

"i know what you're thinking, you can take minho's room." her words take you aback, that really wasn't what you were thinking. but she wasn't serious, was she?

at the mention of his name and apparent lending of his own bed, he whips his head towards his mother. he points to himself silently and gawks in disbelief.

you try to stifle a laugh at his ridiculous face. it wasn't often that you see minho all flustered.

realizing that mrs. lee might actually kick minho out of his room if you don't say anything, you decide to spare him. "that's okay, i'll take the couch."

"are you sure? the couch isn't the most comfortable..."

you reassure her that the couch is fine and not to worry. mrs. lee takes this as a confirmation that you'll stay for the night. she beams and grabs her son's shoulder,

"minho, do you have clothes that you can lend to y/n?" she catches you about to protest at the unnecessary offer, "don't worry about that, you're going to end up uncomfortable if you sleep in your clothes right now."

she leaves not long after with a quick good night to you both, also not leaving any room for any counter arguments. minho nods after registering what she said, hesitantly gesturing you to follow him towards the room at the end of the corridor.

he was quiet these past few hours, you observed. the annoying minho that you have gotten used to was no where to be found. putting yourself in his shoes, you understood. having a person that you dislike come into your home and spend the night would irk you as well.

the unexpected warm lighting and a subtle citrus scent with notes of jasmine and sandalwood welcomed you upon entering. it instantly brings comfort. not really expecting anything coming into his room, it was truly a pleasant surprise.

you stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, not wanting to touch or disrupt any of his space or belongings. he heads straight to his closet near his bed.

"it's alright, uh..."

minho ignores your attempt to refuse and starts digging deep for clothes that he could lend.

okay, nevermind.

you quietly glance at the homey decor that adorns the wall of his bedroom. multiple pictures of what you assume to be his friends were strewn all across the room. some of them seemed to be taken when he was in high school and some more recent. there were doing various funny and serious poses, minho seems to be really well liked.

"alright,"

he starts handing you a pair of black jogging pants and a plain white t-shirt. you reluctantly take the pile of clothes from him, your fingers momentarily brushing. you were certain you could hear your pulse thump in your ears. it confuses you greatly.

"this is the smallest one i have, sorry."

he coughs and rubs his neck, "the bathroom is over there, if you wanna change."

awkwardly shuffling on the way to the bathroom, a sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you lock the door behind. why were you so affected by a simple touch of his fingers? this was minho. you quickly shove the odd feeling down.

you hold the white shirt up to your torso, it was definitely too big. the hem of the shirt reaching your thighs and sleeves reaching your elbows as well.

peeling out of your clothes, and hold up minho's large shirt to finally wear. as you put it on, you could faintly smell the cleanness of detergent and a faint musky patchouli scent. your cheeks burn with the realization that you were really going to spend the night here.

when you return to the empty main corridor, the leather couch was already set up with a cozy looking blanket and multiple plush pillows. you struggle to hide a smile.

tossing and turning, you struggle to find a comfortable position on the couch. the blanket proving to be too hot right now, you push it off. you check your phone out of boredom and the led screen lights up.

1:19 am. it was in the middle of the night and the rain continues to pour outside. the occasional rumble of thunder once again evoking anxiety in you. sighing, you don't think you will be getting any sleep tonight. it's just you and your thoughts for now.

thinking back to this afternoon, the whole situation seems so absurd and surreal. who would've thought that you and minho would pretend being friends even if it was just for one night. it was a strange chance of circumstance.

the door from the end of hallway opens, a scruffy and disheveled minho rubs his eyes to get rid of his sleepiness. you sit up in curiosity to observe his sleepy state. he pads over the wooden floors to the kitchen looking for water, not sparing you a second glance.

when he was out of sight, you start thinking of ways to distract yourself, wanting to already succumb to slumber.

“oh, it’s you.” he says after coming back, finally noticing your slumped figure. "didn't sleep yet?" minho ruffles his hair haphazardly, trying to smoothen it down. you shake your head,

"insomnia. it's the thunder."

"ah."

"the couch is making your neck hurt isn't it?"

"yeah, that too."

he opens his mouth to hopefully offer another solution, but shuts it immediately. he wasn't sure if it would make you comfortable so he just stands there quietly.

"i'll go get you more pillows." he places his cup down on the coffee table before going to his room. minho stops in his tracks when he feels your fingers tug on his shirt. another strike of thunder flashes outside making you flinch.

"stay." you catch yourself saying before even realizing. it's selfish to ask but you don't think you could stand the thunder alone. watching him stare into your eyes, as if looking for an explanation- you offer him no words.

minho takes a seat at the end of the couch silently joining you, sipping at his mug. to fill the awkward silence, you clear your throat and fiddle with the ends of the cotton blanket.

you start thinking of ways to justify your selfish request of making him stay.

"i finished that damn paperwork you dumped on me. dick move by the way." you chortled to try to lighten the mood. he seems to notice your attempts to distract yourself and indulge your sudden desire to chat.

he folds his hands on his stomach, grinning. his bunny like teeth poking out. you always thought it was endearing. "it's fun seeing you all grumpy."

"sadist." you simper, the anger you felt from a yesterday dwindling at the surprisingly pleasant banter.

quietness takes over again. he stares into the celling, pondering. "i didn't know you were close with my grandmother." he says after a while. he avoids your gaze and places his mug back on the table.

"neither did i. it wasn't deliberate," you reply. he turns to you, curious about the story. so you explain to him how you met, for how long and that you didn't even recognize him despite seeing the photos.

he chuckles, "i bet it was this pose, wasn't it?" minho imitates the very same pose that he did in the photo, eliciting another laugh from you. it was exactly the same.

minho shuffles a little bit closer to you, now propping his arm on the back of the couch. you straighten up, now being hyperaware of his presence and proximity. he looks really different without his glasses.

a furry tail suddenly brushes against your exposed leg. you lean forward to check what had just rubbed past you, it was one of the cats. it meows for attention, pawing at the base of the couch.

"your cats are really cute." you watch him pick the orange haired feline and place it on his lap. one by one, two of the other cats that you've seen this afternoon start padding over to where you and minho were seated, jumping on the couch.

"that's dori," he points to the gray furred kitty. "doongie," an orange cat with a predominately white underbelly, "and soonie." the last one who's also orange but more so than the other. minho raises soonie's paw, waving it at you. cute.

"this one looks like you."

you scratch soonie's chin, the low purring getting louder the longer you do it. minho stares longingly at your eyes with an unreadable expression at the comment. you're not paying any attention to him.

after a while, the cats start to get tired of the two of you. they walk of to the end of the couch, now ignoring you and minho. you fold your arms and relaxing into the back of the couch, falling into a deep and comfortable silence that would be sorely missed.

"why do you hate me?" you say abruptly. the curiosity finally won, anxiety gnawing at your every fiber of your being. it was finally starting to be peaceful between you two and actually talking like normal people, your sudden comment might've affected it's chances of becoming true.

his head whips towards your direction in what you assume to be disbelief, furrowing his eyebrows. "since when did i hate you?"

you struggle to not scoff at his blatant charade, "minho, you have it out for me." this was strange and ridiculous. was he really being serious? how could he not be aware of the months of months of his incessant attitude towards you, and only you.

you remind yourself to be calm, to be civil. but he continues to feign ignorance. it was starting to get difficult.

"you don't treat me like the others, you constantly make my life harder by teasing me, and you dump your own paperwork on me. only me. the only time you talked to me normally was just a few minutes ago." your voice rising with exasperation.

"what did i do?" voice ultimately faltering, tired.

"i-..." minho refuses to meet your eyes, offering no solace.

instantly feeling vulnerable by your little outburst and by the lack of response on his end, you hug and bury the plush pillow for comfort. you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home and pretend this conversation did not happen. confrontation wasn't your strong suit.

after a long while of silence, he at last utters a low, "i'm so sorry."

"that was very, very stupid of me." minho's eyes are now trained on the hardwood floor, unable to even glance at you.

"what? the paperwork?" you scoff, "no, not just that. all of it."

you furrow your brows at him, "i just find you really really cute when you're mad." he continues. you stare at him, incredulousness and anger painting your features. before you could give him a piece of your mind, he speaks.

"and i realized i didn't know how to actually approach you normally without the teasing." he purses his lips, the cup on the table long forgotten. minho is staring up the celling now, still refusing to look to your direction.

"would you also believe me if i said i was jealous?"

you don't know what to say in return, heavily processing what he just said. what was happening? your mouth runs dry, confusion knocking the wind out of you.

"of your friend." he says, emphasizing the last part. you try to rack your brain of who he was referring to.

"jeongin?" you tilt your head. he says nothing, confirming the assumption. "i overheard him talking to his friends, bragging about how he was gonna take you out to this restaurant that he wants to drag you to." you couldn't possibly think of a reason why he would be jealous, you and jeongin are just friends. and why was he jealous in the first place?

"why are you so worked up about it? he's just a friend, minho."

"i'm not even sure myself," minho shakes his head in exasperation and turns to you. "but i like you, y/n."

standing there, paralyzed at his unexpected confession. minho likes you? he was giving you crap all year round, and yet he likes you? you shoot him a perplexed look, "wait, what?"

"let me get this straight," you hug your legs, trying to decipher what he was saying. "so your plan was to annoy the hell out of me, dump your paperwork seeing that you don't want me hanging out with jeongin because...you like me?"

"well, now it sounds stupid when you put it like that." he huffs, crossing his arms and pouting cutely.

deafening silence falls between you two, unable to say anything meaningful without stuttering and fumbling through your words. you just sat there, not really saying anything and staring at the floor. realizing that you probably don't feel the same, he sighs. its about time he went back to bed too.

"it's late. you should probably get some-"

before you knew it you felt your pulse roaring in your ears, grabbing his wrist and stopping him from standing up. you were going to regret it if you let him go.

"i like you too."

a magnetic pull causes you both to inch closer together, wordlessly gazing into each others eyes. you make the first move to lean into him, slowly placing an experimental peck on the side of his lips. you unsurely place your hands on his chest, "is this okay?"

his eyes flickering down to your lips and then back to your eyes. he licks his lips, still staring intensely- lovingly at you. he softly grins, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears and returns the kiss on your lips.

eyelids fluttering shut, you feel him press against you with much enthusiasm, deepening the kiss. you cup his cheeks as a reply, roughly pulling him towards you.

you already forgot about the rain outside.

he hoists you up his lap, a hand on your waist as he trails desperate kisses on your neck. minho pays his attention back to your lips, sloppy and open mouthed, saliva stringing from your mouths. urgency and eagerness was reflected in the way you both tangle your arms around each other, touching and caressing every part that you could reach.

all of the unresolved tension was slowly slipping away, replaced by desire.

a sudden meow breaks the two of you out of your trance. the green eyes of soonie stares up at the two of you, sitting quietly and their tail swishing side to side.

you loosen your arms around his neck, you two bursting out in laughter at the interruption.

"do you want to maybe take this to my room?" minho asks, placing a thumb on your lips. you didn't need to think twice.

your head hit his plush pillow, the cold and crisp linen feeling heavenly against your hot and flushed skin. shuffling up to the headboard, you watch minho with hazy eyes as he inches towards your form and props his knee on the edge of the bed.

he smirks as he sinks down on the mattress, hovering over your feverish body. minho sneaks a hand behind your back, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you over so effortlessly to the top as if you weighed nothing.

"now, where were we?" he murmurs into the column of your neck, his hot breath sending tingling and electrifying shivers down your spine. you respond by trailing your hands all over his clothed chest, wanting to get the offending article of clothing off.

he chuckles and grabs your wrists, halting you from doing so. minho kisses the inside of your wrist, a teasing smile dawns on his face. you look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, wanting to have him already.

minho adjusts his tight hold on you, biting his plush lips in anticipation. with you now towering over his figure, you lean down to capture the lips that you had been fantasizing about all evening and bury your hands into his hair. the kiss was wet and messy, your tongues sloppily and desperately swallowing each other's moans. a trail of saliva strings from both of your lips.

it was starting to get too hot for your liking. you cease your movements for a second to remove minho’s borrowed shirt from your body. minho’s eyes shamelessly rake over your chest, his finger leisurely trailing the middle of your breasts. you let out a low chuckle, finally unclasping the hook of your bra. you release a breathy shudder upon feeling something hard poking you from where you sat. grabbing both of his wrists, you eagerly put them up to your tits, you could feel your sensitive nipples harden because of his cold touch. minho starts pinching at the sensitive buds, prolonging his eye contact with you, clearly enjoying your erratic squirming.

you suck in a sharp breath and almost topple over him in pleasure as he takes a nipple into his mouth, hot, warm, and wet. it was overwhelming, having no one touch you like this before. he continues to lap at your hardening bud. minho groans, closing his eyes and further burying his head in your chest. your tits were covered in spit, glistening under the subtle light of his night lamp.

minho, while smothering himself in your chest, takes a moment to hook his arm over you. his skillful hands trail over to the waistband of your jogging pants and pulls it down. you oblige, leaning closer to him and lifting your hips so he wouldn’t have to leave your tits. you jump in surprise once you feel a light teasing smack on your now semi exposed ass, only covered by thin panties. it elicits a small moan from you, pulling his head closer. you lightly pet his head and thread your hands in his hair affectionately as he continues his sucking, feeling a coiling sensation from your core.

but before you could cum, he detaches from your breasts, leaving his lips glistening with his own spit and his breath raggedy. a sly grin that you have come to love and hate graces his face upon seeing you whimper. the lack of stimulation makes you deflate, heaving frustratedly at his relentless teasing.

the familiar throbbing heat from your pussy suddenly gives you an idea. his hungry gaze watches you in curiosity. the bulge you were currently sitting on now immediately taking all of your attention. you do an experimental hump on it, hoping to relieve the aching heat from your cunt. minho's hands fly to your hips, groaning at the sensation.

"all this time, you made me think that you hated me-" you moan out, the fabric of his pants providing just the right amount of resistance. "when really you liked me?"

he stifles his moans by biting his bottom lip, his pants surely soaked through now.

"i did say i liked seeing you mad." minho manages to grunt out, licking his lips. you almost reel in disbelief but you keep your composure.

"you're confusing." another thrust.

"and i'm still mad at you." you huff out. hips now wildly humping against every ridge and curve of his cock. the sight of him makes you delirious, even more so that you’re humping against him.

"i-i'll make it up to you," he murmurs lowly, hissing the more times you buck up against him. "fu-fuck..."

despite the way that you were using him, it does nothing to quell the horniness you were feeling, in fact, it even spurs you on further. the wet patch from your panties soak and slowly transfer on to the front of his pants, your own wetness spreading messily every time you grind on his delicious dick, the ridges providing the needed friction that you've been so desperately craving. minho watches you, your tits bouncing up and down- he feels like drooling. "i love it when you use me." he finally breathes out, hands still on your hips, his nails making crescents on your skin. and finally, you cum, his words sending you over the edge.

it tremors through your body, white hot cum leaks out from your panties and you can’t seem to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on his broad chest. you clench your eyes shut in shyness, suddenly embarrassed from using minho so blatantly. he coos and pats your head in comfort, almost like how he pets his cats.

planning to make it up to him and eat his words, you sit up and shuffle down his hips. you admire the wet patch that stains his front, mouth watering. this surprises him, watching you with tantalizing eyes. you make a move to grab at his waistband, pulling it down slowly. he hisses out in pleasure as the waistband runs over his still clothed dick. minho’s boxers were thoroughly wet, you could see a dark patch on the front where you sat on him and where precum leaked out. you lift up a hand to experimentally give his bulge a tight little squeeze, him letting out a little shudder response.

it hardens even more under your touch- so you decide to tease him to test the waters even further, running your fingers over and over his tent causing him to hiss out, sending you a warning look. taking this as a sign, you lift the waistband of his boxers and stare at his eyes while doing so. it springs up immediately after freeing it from its confines. his long and fat cock stands tall, the tip a deep red, and the veins prominently running along the sides. the sight makes your mouth water in anticipation. you place a thumb on his cockhead, running slow circles on his slit causing it to drool heavily on your hand.

his cat like mouth parts in ecstasy once you start teasing the underside of his length with your hand and licking the oozing liquid up. minho’s hips start thrusting at the sensation, forcing you to hold him down. it was admittedly hard to do so, his thick thighs almost the size of your head but you still managed to restrain him from rutting wildly. the groan that leaves his lips sound is absolutely nothing short of sinful when you finally put your mouth on him. every desperate huff from him leaves you light headed, wishing you could record and replay it over and over again. when couldn’t fit all of him, you resorted to pumping the remaining of the shaft were you couldn’t reach. you egg him on even further by running a hand over his abs, seeing how his thighs and abdomen tense up.

you look up through your lashes to watch minho unravel. his eyes were screwed shut, focusing on the stimulation. while it bobs messily in your mouth, you try to pay special attention to his hot and heavy balls, rubbing it back and forth in the palm of your hand, hoping to get him to cum. minho closes his eyes shut again and tenses his thighs, finally cumming. his hands travel down to grasp at his length, taking it over yours, spurting his essence everywhere. minho finishes with a loud relieved groan, slapping his dick lazily against your cheek which you greedily lapped at.

“that might be the best head i’ve ever had, bunny.” he bites his lips, his voice light and airy. you quickly sit up from your position and gawked at him, suddenly feeling bashful at his apparent pet name for you.

minho gives you a mischievous cat like grin in return, feeling absolutely delighted at your expression. he begins to lightly graze your leg, leaving tentative touches and gentle pecks along the stretch of your lower limb. lifting your right leg up, you stop minho from inching any closer towards you by putting your foot on his chest.

"y/n..."

you pretend to think for a moment, stretching this out for as long as possible. he would just have to wait since he had yet to make up for being so mean to you. a little fun also wouldn’t hurt, right? no, you were quite wrong.

minho again grabs your ankle albeit more roughly this time and continues to place chaste kisses with more passion this time, clearly adamant about giving your legs and thighs hickeys. at long last, minho slides the wet and abused fabric off you, the panty is thoroughly soaked and it’s material sticking and clinging to your core.

he hooks ur leg over his shoulder, urging to part your legs apart and spreading them obscenely open. staring intensely into your eyes, minho starts teasing your core with feather light touches. “you like this?” he says his mischievous grin, continuing his ministrations. you offer him no response as he traces figures and shapes on your wet pussy that has you seeing stars. his fingers now erratically sliding up and down your folds. you almost sob at his nonchalant teasing, eyes clenching shut and begging him to put something in.

something about observing his veiny hand treading lightly just the outside of your lower lips leads you to tuck your face into your hands, the sight was like straight out of porn. “no, no. hands up bunny.” minho takes a hold of your wrists, putting them effortlessly above your head.

“you have to look.”

his free hand drags along your legs to pull them apart and starts lowering his chiseled face down to your core. his nose just close enough to feel the small exhaling puffs of hot air on your pussy, causing it to twitch in suspense. the brunette sneaks a peak at your trembling figure before diving right in, the first contact of his tongue on your cunt was searing hot, instantly making jolt out in shock and cry out. minho takes this as a sign to hold down your hips, pressing, flattening, and letting his tongue rampant against you all while avoiding your clit. he hums at the taste, huffing and delving further into your pussy, eating you out with such intensity, placing open mouthed sloppy kisses. he spits to make your pussy wetter so he could languidly and erratically make out with your cunt.

you throw your head back into the heaps of pillows behind you as he starts to pay attention to your clit, softly biting the bundle of nerves. minho then moves to swipe his index up at the large amount of cum and spit trickling from your core, using it as lube for his fingers. he gently prods his index in your entrance all while still licking you up. his long fingers, deliciously stretching your hole, deeper than all those nights you've tried to do so yourself. the bliss you were feeling was overwhelming. minho croaks out a little ‘hah, hah, hah…” every time he would come up for breath, completely drunk off your musky and intoxicating scent. you also don’t miss how he subtly humps the bed sheets he was lying under either. you began to arch your back upon hearing his desperate sounds, your arousal spurting on his face.

minho looks like a cat who got the cream, his pupils blown wide open and wetness trickling down the side of his mouth. he lets go of your hands after you were finished, the numb arm falling on your forehead as you catch your breath. he stands up to re-adjust your form on the bed, pulling you closer to his pelvis.

minho stares at your eyes, asking silently for permission. you look up at him with a toothy- fucked out grin.

the feelings that you couldn't place earlier was now clear, you wanted him.

minho reaches a hand over your face, caressing your flushed cheeks. he wordlessly leans to tenderly place a kiss onto your forehead and on your lips. you reciprocate lovingly, capturing his lips once again. minho without warning, pushes his long and girthy dick into you, the abrupt intrusion making you sob out. the bulbous head of his cock rubs deliciously against your gummy walls, you swore you could feel it in your throat.

“there we go. there we go…”

minho sets a rough pace, his hips thrusting against your pelvic bone. “ah-ah!”

toned and skillful arms cage you in, forcing you to look deep into his dark pools. "you better keep quiet, or else the whole house will hear you." that for some reason makes your cunt even wetter, weeping more than you thought was possible. the sole idea of getting caught with their precious son doing such lewd acts, it seems sacrilegious and absolutely sinful.

he once again reaches for your hardened nipple, tweaking and pinching the bud between his thumb and index. the bed was now creaking with how fast minho was going, you silently prayed that no one in the house suspects anything. the thought mortifies you.

minho leans against your figure and nuzzles up on your chest, looking up at you with an oh so innocent grin while he continues to pound your cunt. his movements start to stutter once he feels your walls clench around him. your mind begins to feel like mush but you still try to make an effort to suppress your groans of pleasure. a strangled sound between a moan and a whine leaves your throat once he hits that one particular spot in you.

“keep quiet, little kitty.”

you start squirming uncontrollably at the huskiness of his voice, not having experienced an intense orgasm like this before. “cum, you can do it.” your rutting hips stop to convulse for a moment, feeling your orgasm rip through the ends of your nerves. leaning back on his chest, you struggle to catch your breath, heaving from the aftermath of your orgasm.

fogginess still clouding your vision, you caught a small glimpse of minho to notice that he still hadn’t pulled out, his hands circling your waist gently. you unintentionally clench on his cock, yep he was still hard, very hard. minho sets his eyes on you, and gives you that look. oh no, you knew that look. the same one that he uses around the office to persuade a higher up to heed to his request. you nibble on your lower lip in excitement.

“one more, you can do one more right?” he coos, lifting your legs and his hips starting his monstrous once pace again. you double over in overstimulation, crying out in pleasure. his breath hitches after a particularly hard thrust, choosing to muffle his own cries by shoving his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your exhilarating scent. you respond by coyly playing with the hair on his nape, hoping that it would ground you to reality.

minho then sneaks a hand from below you and hugs your figure, pulling you impossibly closer. he swallows your moans, kissing you feverishly and running his hands wildly all throughout. it was so urgent, so intense, like he’s finding a way to meld your bodies together, his erratic and messy thrusts reflecting that.

your fingers clutch his thick bed sheets, euphoria piercing your body every time he drives another rough thrust into you. the lewd noises coming from the two of you echos and bounces off the walls, the conversation tomorrow morning was going to be so humiliating and awkward at the dining table.

you can’t hold it in any longer, and by the looks of it, neither can he. minho cums with a loud groan, spurting inside you. "goooood kitty." minho rasps out. you gape at the warmness, causing you to finish as well. minho reaches his hand downwards to spread your combined release, spreading it messily. it drips out of you obscenely as he pulls out.

you were positively flushed. he was too, sweat still glistening on the wide expanse of his chest and forehead. minho brushes your hair back affectionately before plopping down tiredly next to you. you turn to him, wanting to admire his fucked out features but he looks occupied and staring into space.

“what's the matter?”

"i really am sorry about the misunderstanding. i feel terrible that i made you feel like that. and i do really like you. wasn't lying about that." minho sighs out, closing his eyes for a moment and then faces you. “i want to start over, properly this time.”

"apology accepted. and yeah of course." you say, quite happy with how this whole misunderstanding turned out. "i really like you too." he kisses the top of your head, making you wrap an arm around him to cuddle.

"now you'll just have to figure out how to reject the girl beside your desk. she wants to ask you out."

"maybe we can start by just making out in front of her."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids hard thoughts #lee know #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst

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some-bunniii · 3 months

Text

Lucifer protecting an artist reader

・❥ You left the hotel that day to go shopping, and you came back with blood splattered across your clothes

x: 13k words?!! this is why the wait was long y’all 😭😭 i spoil you too much

Warnings: Swearing, violence, blood, SMUT!!

“Uno!”

“Damnit, Husk! Why’d you got to do me like that for?!” Angel Dust hissed, clenching the cards in his hand tightly as he stared at the freshly placed ‘Wild +4’ on the table in front of him.

“You askin’ a gambler to play a game of cards and still expect princess treatment? Please.” Husk rolled his eyes before taking a sip from his glass of brandy.

“I know your games, Kitty. You could’a played that on Charlie when the order was reversed but saved it just for me didn’t ya?”

“Whatever you say, the color is green anyway.”

Angel Dust huffed in annoyance as he placed the extra cards in his deck, muttering something under his breath. Besides him, Vaggie placed down a green card of her own, her eyes squinted with a look of concentration, calculating her next move.

You were sitting a few chairs over, on the other side of the table. Besides you was Charlie, leaned back in her chair, only three cards left in her hand. She would be the last person to go before it was Husk’s turn once more.

When they had invited you to play some cards, you were expecting something like Blackjack or Poker, not UNO.

You were shocked they even had something like this in Hell, but in truth, it could become a very bloodthirsty game rather quickly. Not to mention, it was a cult classic, and it made sense for even the residents of such a place to still hold nostalgia for it even after their death.

Charlie had proclaimed it was a great bonding session while also helping to teach valuable skills like patience and communication. As being part of the staff, it was mandatory for you.

It had only been a few days since Lucifer kissed you on that rooftop, and your cheeks still heated everytime you thought about it.

Looking back down at the cards in your hand, you analyzed your possible moves. You had a good amount of cards still left in your deck, but the one you had been eyeballing was a green ‘+2’. Maybe that single card could help turn the tides, and someone other than Husk would win for once.

The spot besides Vaggie was empty, a small hand of cards laid face-down on the table in front of the chair. It was Sir. Pentious’ turn, but he was nowhere in sight.

“How long has Snake Boy been in the bathroom? Somebody better go check up on him.”

“Give him a few more minutes, I think it was the Mexican we had earlier coming back to haunt him.”

“Well if he doesn’t hurry, we’re gonna replace him with Niff.”

You ignored the other’s conversation, instead pivoting slightly in Charlie’s direction. You had a plan, but it would only work with the assistance of the demon princess.

“Pssst, Charlie!” You whispered, using a hand to shield your words from the rest of the players.

“Yes?” She inquired, leaning closer to you. KeeKee lifted her head from Charlie’s lap, and you gave her a quick scratch between her ears.

“Do you have a ‘+2’?”

“Maybeeee,” Charlie answered, her eyes scanning her cards before landing back on you, “Why?”

“If I put one of mine down, stack it with yours. That way Husk gets four!”

Charlie looked over at Husk, who was sitting with his chest puffed, and a single card in his paws as he eyed the winners pot. Which was a couple of mints, a large candy bar, three dollars, and a coupon for a discount on movie tickets.

There was a bag of a mysterious white powder in the mix that Angel Dust had placed earlier, but it was gone now. You assumed that Charlie had probably swiped it so she could burn it later.

Charlie turned back to you, her mouth downturned.

“But that’s so meannnn,” She whimpered, her eyes glistening, “Husk has worked so hard to get down to that!”

“It’s UNO, Charlie! It’s not a game for the weak. Husk only has one card and I swear if you let him win, i’ll- i’ll… I won’t paint your nails tonight!”

Charlie grimaced, grief written across her face as she contemplated the incredibly tough decision she had to make.

“Hey, you two stop plotting over there!” Vaggie glared in your direction, her arms crossed “Pretty sure that counts as cheating!”

“We were just talking about the weather!” Charlie quickly responded, before nervously biting her lip.

It was then Sir. Pentious arrived, apologizing profusely before returning to his seat and picking his deck back up. He analyzed his cards for a moment, before quickly placing down another green.

‘Damnit’, you cursed internally, ‘The color hasn’t changed, now it’s really up to Charlie.’

It was finally your turn, and slowly pulling out the ‘+2’ from your hand, you placed it on the table. You hit Charlie with a hard stare, silently threatening her with the loss of a manicure.

You two had been spending more time together recently, ever since she appeared at your friend’s art studio, leaving you to wrangle in a practically nude Lucifer for the duration of your class.

After that, you were no longer worried about whether Charlie was unsupportive of your relationship with Lucifer. It was clear she wanted the best for her father, and his mood had been improving with you around.

Sometimes, while you were sketching out new ideas for your next project, she’d knock quietly at your door, asking for your assistance in matters pertaining to the rest of the residents in the hotel.

“I just wish Angel Dust would try harder to drop the heavy drugs,” She had moaned to you one day, sitting on your bed as she clutched a stuffed animal of yours to her chest, “I mean the drinking? Whatever, for now. I’m sure those in Heaven probably do the same. But, Cocaine?”

She exhaled a large breath and averted her gaze, her lips pursed as she continued.

“I messed up big time when I tried to put my foot down for his sake back at the filming studio. Now i’m just.. scared to say anything about it, I don’t want to re-ignite any fire between us.”

You had nodded along while listening to her words, your fingers tapping against the wooden easel as you contemplated.

“Maybe you should try sitting him down and having a heart-to-heart with him?” You suggested gently, putting down your pencil.

“Express your concerns and offer your support. With the business he’s in and the.. culture that surrounds it, I have no doubt those closest to him are only continuing to perpetuate his, erm, activities.”

She regarded your words for a moment, staring down at her shoes as she let that sink in.

“You could even take it a step farther and invite him to different groups or classes. There are many places around the city that do things like pottery, poetry, even shitty horse riding lessons. Maybe if he found something of interest, it would help in replacing those bad habits.”

Slowly, Charlie’s head started to nod, and she met your gaze with fresh determination.

“You’re right! It’s time for me to step up and be his support beam. If I can’t get him to make better choices, then what’s the point of the hotel? I’m sure the others will agree to help!”

She crossed the room, and gave you a large bear hug. She squeezed the breath out of your lungs, but you only returned the hug, eager to show her your support.

Quickly, like she had done something wrong, she pulled her arms back to her sides and stepped back, creating a gap between the two of you. Nervously, she twisted a piece of her hair around her finger and bit her lip.

“To be honest, I really enjoy talking to you about this kind of stuff. You just have this aura that makes me want to spill all my secrets, just like I used to with my mom...”

Those last few words that left Charlie’s lips were in a whisper. Your eyes widened at that. Did she regard you as a semi-parental figure now that you’ve slowly slipped into the Morningstar family?

Her mother was a tough subject for her, since she had no idea where Lilith had scurried off to during these last seven years. All she had was the dream that her mom had left in her absence, and the will to enlighten the lost souls of Hell.

You never would imagine replacing Lilith, for either Charlie or Lucifer. She was the Queen of Hell, their rock during the beginning of Hell’s creation. It was only natural she still held a piece of their hearts.

Slowly, you reached out, and gingerly took her hand. You squeezed it, a silent gesture of comfort.

“I’m just glad I can be your support beam,” You had conceded, “you’re doing such a great job with the hotel. Your ideas deserve to be heard, deserve to be tried. I’m really proud of you for taking such a large step, and i’m glad to be along for the journey with you.”

It was then that Charlie’s breath hitched, her cheeks turned a faint shade of red, and her eyes began to glisten.

You rushed forward quickly as her lips began to quiver, and pulled her into another warm embrace. She melted into it, leaning into your chest as you heard quiet sniffles originating from the princess.

“That is just so refreshing to hear, you have no idea.” She answered after a moment, before standing up straight and taking a step back. Rubbing the short trail of tears away, she sent you a warm smile before waving farewell and disappearing out of your room.

Days like that continued, where she’d ask for your advice or share the latest gossip around the hotel.

“Jesus, Charlie. What’s got you so twisted? Play a card!” Angel Dust’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. Blinking a few times, you twisted your head in Charlie’s direction to see what the fuss was about.

She sat there in her chair, the cards slightly trembling in her hands, as she was faced with an uncomfortable decision. You swore you saw a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead, like she was deciding the fate of Husk’s life instead of the number of cards in his paws.

“I.. I just- Oh! I just can’t do it!” Charlie sobbed, before hastily pulling two more cards into her hand from the small deck on the table.

You groaned, slapping a hand to your forehead. Damnit, you should have known better.

There was a chorus of groans intermixed with yours as Husker let out a loud, boisterous laugh. Slamming his final card on the table, he quickly reached out and pulled the winner’s pot towards him.

He plucked out a mint with his claws before throwing it in his mouth, sucking on it loudly, letting everyone hear the tastes of victory.

“Yeah, yeah. Y’dont gotta rub it in.” Angel Dust muttered, before standing up and stretching his arms. After a few pops of his joints, he sighed, pulling out his phone. He grimaced as he read the words on the screen.

“It looks like Val needs me in the studio, I better run.”

The group of friends began to clean up the table, shuffling cards before placing the deck back into the small box. Watching him leave, a pang of sympathy hit you. You couldn’t imagine being stuck in a contract, let alone as volatile as his.

You didn’t miss the mirrored look Husk gave as he too watched Angel Dust walk through the doors.

Rising from your seat, you stepped away from the group. Checking the clock, you realized you still had enough time to go on your resupply run before it got too dark out. You had your money on you already, so it was just a matter of writing up a quick list and walking out the door.

Walking up to the front desk right next to the hotel entrance, you rummaged through the drawers before pulling out a small notepad.

Placing it on the desk, you reached over and grabbed the pen from its respective holder. You began scribbling down different items you needed to gather:

Acrylic paint

Cleaning sponge

Extra palette knife

Laundry detergent

Catnip

Nail poli-

“Greetingsss!”

You jumped, the pen you were holding clattering back onto the desk. Spinning, your eyes land on the tall snake-demon resident, his fangs extended in an imitation of a smile.

“Sir. Pentious! You can’t sneak up on me like that!.” You exclaimed, exhaling a large breath to calm your nerves.

His hood drooped slightly, guilt crossed his face at your fright.

“Oh dear, i’m terribly sssorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to speak to you, only for a moment.”

You perked at his words. You didn’t know much about Sir. Pentious, he rarely had the courage to have a full conversation with you. He reminded you more of a mouse, then a snake. Always very polite, careful not to push others' buttons, and with a bit of anxiety. It humored you that he used to be a bad person, he was so sweet!

“Of course! What is it you need?”

“Well..” He started, rubbing his hands in a self-soothing motion, “There is ssomeone I would like to pursue romantically, and, well, I wasss hoping you could help me in courting her?”

“Oh, well- I’d love to but I'm not exactly qualified for that.” You laughed, surprise written on your face. That was not what you were expecting him to ask.

“Of courssse you are! You managed to establish an intimate relationsship with His Majesty, the ruler of Hell!”

Your eyes widened. That’s why he wants your opinion? Sure, you did manage to bag the most powerful being in the realm. Someone regarded as cold and narcissistic by outsiders, but not to you. He was more than just his power and his fame when it came to what you loved about the fallen angel.

“Well, yes. That’s definitely true. But, it wasn’t really the conventional way. Lucifer is a.. colorful character.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember that art class I hosted a few months ago? Yeah, he was laying practically butt-naked on a couch in front of me the entire duration.”

“Oh dear.. perhapss you are right.”

You contemplated his question, though. There had to be something you could give him that would help. Perhaps, to gift her something unique. That would prove his interest.

“Well.. what does she like?”

“Pardon?”

“Does she have any hobbies or interests? You are a very talented inventor, and some people really enjoy hand-made gifts. That tells them you care about them enough that you’ll sweat a little to make them happy!”

“Oh, why yesss! She is interested in blowing things up with her grenades!” Sir. Pentious squinted in concentration as he considered your words. His eyes widened as a lightbulb went off in his head.

“Thatsss it! I will design her grenades that do a better job at blowing stuff up!”

“Okay, I wasn’t really thinking tha-”

“Oh, thank you! You are such a good lissstener, I must come to you more often for advice!” Sir. Pentious took your hand in glee, shaking it vigorously as he continued, “I will ssstart working on it right away! She will be head over heels for me now!”

You smiled warmly at him as he spoke. Though you weren’t expecting him to choose a dangerous weapon as a gift for whoever he was trying to court, at least you managed to help him in his endeavor.

“I’m happy you’ve found a solution! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go do some shopping.” You turned away from him slightly, scribbling down the remaining item on the notepad.

“Oh, what are you getting?”

“Just some art supplies and a few other minuscule items over on the East Side,” you responded, “I should be back in a couple of hours.”

“Oh, my! It’sss getting very dangerous over there recently! Are you sure you want to go?”

You lifted your head at his words. That side of the city was dangerous now? Isn’t that where Angel Dust’s studio is?

“What do you mean, Sir. Pentious?”

“A large group of thugs have moved in, causing all sssorts of chaos! It’s not safe to go out alone in that area right now..”

You pondered his words. You didn’t regard yourself as a master of any kind of combat, and you weren't exactly afraid of the mention of gang-members, but, gang-members from Hell? Those were the worst of the worst.

It’s not like you could ask anyone to join you. Alastor was who-knew-where, Sir. Pentious was going to some kind of annual inventor show soon, and Charlie and Vaggie were off for ‘date night’. You were pretty sure Husk was confined to the hotel unless someone with authority could give him the go.

Lucifer was busy at some kind of meeting with the other six Deadly Sins. You never pried him on that part of his job, he hated going so you assumed he hated talking about it. He wouldn’t be done for awhile.

‘Guess i’ll just wait fo-‘

“You ssshould take my Egg Bois!” Sir. Pentious’ words broke you out of your thoughts. Those little egg demons that followed him around everywhere? They were cute.. but could they really protect you?

“What?”

“I cannot take them with me tonight, and they are trained for all kindsss of combat! They will protect you against any threat.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet of you, but I don’t know if-“

“Nonsssense! I insisst! A payment for helping me today.”

You bowed your head slightly in defeat. You weren’t too thrilled about having to babysit a bunch of eggs, but you trusted Sir. Pentious. If he said his boiz could protect you, then you’d believe it.

“Alright, fine.”

✧༺🤍༻∞

“Your eyes are so pretty!”

“Thank you.”

“Uh, Not-Boss? I have to pee!”

“That’s why I asked if you had to go before we left, Frank, now you’ll have to hold it in.”

“Can we stop for ice cream?”

“After shopping.”

“Yay!”

It was only when you arrived at the East Side Market did you realize how badly you needed a car. That way, your ear wouldn’t have been talked off for so long.

It wasn’t too bad, really. They were very obedient, never straying from your side as you traveled across the city. They told jokes that were so bad, you laughed at how much they made you cringe. They had very good manners too, always saying ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’.

Just one more street to cross, before you’d be at the art supply shop. Your little group neared the busy intersection, the light still green for the cars that sped by. Halting at the curb, you looked down at the Egg Bois before addressing them.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s hold hands while we cross. Here, Frank, come over to the right and take my hand.”

Frank sidled up to you, reaching up to grab on to your pinky. His entire hand wrapped around the single digit, and you wondered how exactly these guys had black belts in martial arts.

As the ‘Walk’ signal blinked, you strode across the road. Squeezing past other pedestrians as they walked besides you, your eyes always glancing down to make sure the bois were safe.

Walking past a few more shops, your feet rested in front of a large, pink building. A paintbrush and palette imprinted on its front door. Turning towards the Egg Bois, you bent down to address them.

“Alright, i’ll only be in there for a few minutes. Guard the door, please.”

The cluster of eggs saluted you, their features serious.

“You got it, Not-Boss!”

Giving them a quick farewell nod, you walked through the open door. Disappearing from their sight.

Inside, you zig-zagged through the aisles. Each was one specific to a different art form. There was a row that held webs of colorful yarn, and you saw shades you honestly didn’t even know existed.

You reached the aisle containing the paint supplies, your hand skimming across the shelves as you searched for a palette knife. You needed a smaller sized one, that way your accuracy in texturing feathers would improve.

Recently, you found your paintings were filled with more and more waterfowl and angels. It was a repetitive pattern that only refined your abilities on recreating such ethereal scapes.

Before, your work exhibited many sexual themes. It wasn’t that much of a bother, you were making good money and still doing what you loved. But, damn, did it get mundane. How many tits were you going to be forced to see in your lifetime?

When Charlie welcomed you to the hotel, it was like a breath of fresh air. Finally, you could crack your knuckles to get your creative juices flowing. It really brought back a ton of nostalgia too, from your time living on Earth.

Placing a few more items into your basket as you walked, you began to head for the cashier. Hopefully, the Egg Bois were doing okay an-

Bzzt Bzzt

Your eyes shot to the phone in your possession. It vibrated softly as it buzzed, and you quickly reached for the phone. Someone was calling you. Without even looking at the name, you tapped the green button, and held the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Darling~”

Your cheeks heated just hearing Lucifer’s voice on the other end, the familiar velvet tone like music to your ears. A smile formed on your lips as you stopped in your tracks.

“Hello, Handsome. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just got done with that meeting with the Sins. Thank god.”

“Was it bad?”

“It was the usual. Satan can’t control his cowboys from causing trouble outside his Ring, and Leviathan just complains about everyone else getting special treatment,” Lucifer cleared his throat, before continuing, “so, I was wondering what you were up to. Working hard?”

“I’m out shopping right now, actually.” You replied. You heard shuffling on the other end, like Lucifer had stood up.

“Oh, really? Let me guess.. your resupply run?”

“Bingo.” You smiled. He was catching on to more and more of your routines as time went on.

“Well,” His tone turned playful, you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, “lucky for you, i'm also out.”

“Really?” You questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep, and actually-”

Lucifer’s voice turned to static, and you pulled the speaker an inch away from your ear. Was there a bad signal? You didn’t have enough time to think about that, before his voice returned crystal clear on the other end.

“-I think I see you right now!”

What?

“What?”

“Wow, is that a new outfit you’re wearing? It looks good!”

Slowly, you turned to the direction of the large storefront windows. Your eyes scanned the streets, looking for any signs of the fallen angel. It wasn’t until you scooted slightly over, to look past the large poster covering your view, did you spot the glint of pale blonde hair.

Your mouth dropped. Standing across the street, looking directly at you, was Lucifer. He didn’t sport the usual overcoat and hat, instead he wore his casual red-and-white striped waistcoat, the sleeves of his undershirt rolled up to partially expose his forearms.

He also wore a pair of black sunglasses, which you found kind of odd. You’ve never seen him with any kind of eyewear before today. Noticing your gaze, he waved to you, slightly bouncing on his toes.

You quickly tapped your screen to end the call, rushing toward the check-out counter. You kept taking glances at Lucifer through the windows, your smile widening everytime your gaze traveled down his frame.

The cashier handed you the receipt, and you hurriedly ran out the door. You skidded to a halt at the curb, just as Lucifer crossed the street. He sidled up beside you, grinning warmly.

“I’m really happy to see you, but aren’t you worried you’ll get, like, mobbed or something out here? It’s pretty busy today. Don’t most demons recognize you?” You asked.

Lucifer nodded his head, before tapping the sunglasses on his face. You wondered how they held to his face so well. Magic?

“That’s what these are for, they mask my appearance to everyone but you. And, now that I mention it..” Lucifer trailed off, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of sunglasses, “here, I bought these for you.”

He extended his arm, holding the sunglasses towards you. Reaching out, you gingerly pull them from his grasp, turning them over in your hands. There are words etched into the side of one the arms, and your eyes widened as you read the brand.

“These are Ray-Burn sunglasses! How much did you spend on these?” You questioned him. Ray-Burn was a very high-end retailer, and they were a luxury you could never have afforded. Lucifer only shrugged, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t check, I just thought they’d look great on you.”

Heat creeped onto your cheeks at his response. Your finger caressing the glasses as you processed his words. You had been checking out this specific pair quite some time, they were stylish and bold.

“A work of art,” You had joked to Lucifer once, “They always come out with such pretty designs, one day i’ll get my hands on one.”

He must have kept your promise for you, and that made your heart flutter. Except, for the fact he didn’t need to do that. You would have loved any pair if Lucifer was the one giving it to you.

“Why didn’t you just make one, instead of spending money on me?”

“Because, you were eyeing this specific pair. While I have no doubt one of my versions would have looked fantastic on you. I can’t argue with your choice of style. Now put those bad boys on.”

Carefully, you slipped them on your face. You adjusted them slightly, centering them before releasing your grip. You blinked, the light hitting your eyes was much softer now, which was actually quite refreshing.

Lucifer whistled flirtatiously at you, “You look ravishing. Now, what about me?”

He twisted his body and lifted his head up, posing like he was a cover girl in a magazine. Puckering his lips, he lifted his brows at you. Waiting for your response.

Stupidly gorgeous, you thought, ogling him.

“Perfect.”

“That’s right.” He agreed, nodding his head.

It was then that five eggs rolled into view. They bounced into one another, before standing on their legs. They looked up at you, before saluting.

Lucifer recoiled at the sight of them, stepping behind you slightly.

“What the hell are those things?” He whispered in your ear.

“My bodyguards!” You proclaimed with a smirk, pivoting to face him. Placing your hands on your hips, you eyed your temporary entourage.

“Ohhhh, I get it. Paint a few portraits and suddenly your top dog, hm?”

“Obviously. The Envy Ring has eyes on me 24/7.” You tried to hold in a laugh.

Lucifer smiled, before pulling you besides him. “Well, it’s a good thing I have you all to myself now.”

He leaned forward, lips puckered for a kiss. Eyes widening, you quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, side-eyeing the multiple onlookers.

“Not in front of the little guys, they're too young to fill their heads with such things.”

You felt air hit your palm as he sighed at your response, before pulling away. He turned his head toward the Egg Bois with a slight glare, and Frank walked forward.

“Is this guy bothering you, Not-Boss? Want us to rough him up for you?” He raised his fists, giving the air a quick punch to display his combat prowess.

“Excuse me?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. You realized he was probably not used to lower demons like the Egg Bois speaking to him in such a manner. Even in a disguise.

“I don’t think he knows he’s talking to the big bad boss of Hell.” you teased, amusement glinting in your eyes.

Frank’s eyes widened, he jumped back. It made both you and Lucifer reel back in surprise at the egg’s frightened reaction.

“Boss of Hell? You mean like Lucifer?!”

The Egg Bois behind him looked amongst themselves, fear flickering across their face. They whispered to each other, you could only make out a few words like ‘kill’ and ‘torture’.

“Haven’t you heard?” Frank continued, “He steals souls and drinks the blood of babies!”

“Oh, he does more than just that,” Lucifer started, stalking toward the egg-demon menacingly, “he roasts them alive to eat, and anyone of similar size!”

The egg boi trembled, his little legs starting to shake as he listened to Lucifer’s words.

“Oh, golly..” He whispered with a quivering lip.

Sending Lucifer a glare, you not-so-gently elbowed him in the side.

“What are you doing?” You whispered. Was he trying to make the little guy crack?

“Just keeping up my image, can’t have anyone thinking the almighty ruler of Hell fancies taking his lover for strolls down the markets!”

You shot him another glare and Lucifer sent an apologetic smile. He slowly knelt down to Frank’s height, patting him on the top of his shell. “Don’t worry, little guy. I heard he prefers pancakes over scrambled eggs.”

Frank’s frown waned a tiny bit, his legs stilled as the panic subsided. The other eggs behind him visibly relaxed as well.

“And, who could ever eat a wittle adowable face like yours,” Lucifer cooed sweetly, rubbing the sides of Frank’s shell like he was trying to squeeze his cheeks, who giggled at the touch. Lucifer stood up, a smirk gracing his lips.

“Well, now that I'm here. That means you don’t need any bodyguards. Say goodbye!” He turned to you, snapping his fingers. Your eyes widened as the Egg Bois vanished in a flash of golden waves. You felt bad you didn’t get to say goodbye.

“You know, I did promise them ice cream.”

Lucifer waved his hand in a brushing motion, “we’ll stop and get them some on the way back.”

You both continued to walk down the street, glancing into different shops as you set your eyes on something unique. Lucifer filled the time by continuing his rant of the other Sins. You listened intently, your knowledge of other powerful demons— apart from alastor, wasn’t very vast. He also mentioned wanting to find a gift for Charlie, and that got you scanning every display window on the street.

It wasn’t until the two of you stopped at a storefront and peeked through the glass display did you see something of interest. Across the hidden barrier, was a mannequin with feminine features, sporting a rather stunning red tuxedo with gold lapels.

“I think Charlie would like that,” You smiled, turning to Lucifer, “she was mentioning a need for a wardrobe upgrade, and it would show you care about her passion with the hotel since she’d wear it for work.”

Lucifer pondered your words for a moment. He cared about his daughter deeply, but his relationship with her was still in the works. Her interests were still foreign to him, and he struggled with coming up with gifts for her, despite acts of service being his love language. Slowly, he nodded.

“What size does she wear? Oh, I guess it doesn’t matter. I can just adjust it for her. Are you coming in?”

“I’ll wait out here, see if there’s anywhere else we can stop.” You replied. Lucifer nodded, before pulling open the front door and slipping inside.

You turned, scooching as close to the wall as to not impede on the flow of pedestrian traffic. Your eyes scanned the other stores. Wait, didn’t you still need nail polish? What stores around here would sell tha-

Bzzt Bzzt

Your phone vibrated again. Raising your eyebrows, you checked the name this time. The words on the phone read ‘Charlie’ and you quickly answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but are you still shopping?” Charlie asked, her tone strange to you. Worried, perhaps.

“Yes, I am. I’m almost done though, why, what’s up?”

“It’s Angel Dust,” She spoke quickly, “the last time I talked to him he stopped at a bar at the edge of the East Side Market hours ago, and now he won’t answer any of my messages. I’m just worried about him.”

“Well, I’m at the East Side Market now. I can check up on him, if you want, maybe even drag him back to the hotel.”

“Really?” Charlie said, her tone lifting at your words, “Oh, thank you! That would be great, please let me know what happens..”

You promised her you would, before hanging up. Just as you set the phone down, Lucifer exited the store. He held a large pink bag in his hands as he strolled towards you.

“Alright, where to next?”

You turned to him, arms crossed. “Angel Dust is somewhere around here no doubt blackout drunk, and I have to go make sure he’s okay. It’s the club right down the street here, will you come with me?”

Sensing the urgency in your tone, Lucifer nodded. He laced your fingers with his before speaking, “if that’s what you want, of course.”

Quickly, you pulled him down the street. A large, dark building came into view. To be honest, if the figure of a stripper wasn’t etched into its sign, you wouldn’t have guessed it was a club. It looked like a run down industrial building, but the heavy vibrations from the music inside told you otherwise. A large crowd of people were standing up front, some held cigarettes or beers in their hands as they chatted waiting to enter. You couldn’t see a bouncer, maybe it was going to be easier than you thought to get in.

“I think this time, it’s your turn to go in alone,” Lucifer stopped at the doors, turning to you, “this crowd is a little too big for my liking..”

“That’s fine. I shouldn’t be long, i’ll be down here in a few minutes.” Your lips brushed his cheek before you reluctantly pulled your hand from his grip. Maneuvering through the crowd, trying not to bump into too many stumbling drunks, you stopped at the door. With a quick glance at your surroundings and Lucifer, you pulled open the large door and slipped inside.

Flashing multi-color lights hit your eyes as they lit up your frame from the other end of the dark hallway. Shadowy figures passed your peripheral vision as they danced. Round tables were stacked with empty drinks, with groups of partiers standing around them as they chatted and laughed.

The music was loud too, drowning out your thoughts so all that was left was the single mission: Find Angel Dust.

Quickly, you crossed the room, your feet stopping at the bar. You turned your head, scanning for any signs of bright pink fuzz. You found none, and your eyes instead landed on a staircase. There were multiple floors to this place? Hopefully, Angel Dust wouldn’t be far away.

A man at the bar winked at you, and you quickly turned away, hurriedly making your way to the stairs. You lept over multiple steps, until your feet touched a hard, wood floor. This area was definitely built for those that wanted to forget whatever shitty day they had come from.

Strippers danced around large poles on top of platforms connected to each corner of the room. A wall lined with doors, labeled rather indiscreetly as ‘sex’ rooms, caught your eye. He couldn’t be in there, could he?

“Y’know, my fur gets pinker the more you touch, toots. Ever seen a spider change color?”

Your head snapped to that familiar voice. Angel Dust leaned against a wall, near the open doors of a large balcony. It was a dark corner of the room, and you would have missed it if not for hearing his voice. He looked really drunk, and you contemplated whether you were actually going to be able to get him out of here. There were multiple large demons around him, leaned in as they listened to Angel talk. They kept glancing at each other, before turning their attention back to the spider-demon.

You didn’t like the look of them, their faces weren’t friendly and the scars across their skin made you nervous. It wasn’t until one adjusted their position slightly, did you see the gleam of a small dagger attached to their waist belt. You tensed, were these the thugs Sir. Pentious had mentioned?

“Why don’t you let us take you somewhere nice. eh?” One of them started, scooching closer to Angel Dust, “get some more drinks in your system, relax, whatcha say?”

You didn’t like where the conversation was going as you eavesdropped. You hurriedly crossed the room, throwing your hands up in the air as you walked towards them.

“Angel! There you are, i’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Hot cakesss,” Angel Dust slurred in surprise as he turned away from the men and met your eyes, “What are you doing here? This ain’t your type’a place.”

“That’s because i’m here to get you home, buddy. Come on, you’ve had a rough day, doesn’t a warm bed sound nice?”

Angel nodded to that, before turning away from the group of feral-eyed men. He held a small shot glass in his hand as he stumbled up to you, holding it out for you to take.

“Hereee, have a drink.”

You shook your head, “No, I shouldn’t, we need to-“

“Cmonnn Hot Cakes, we’re at a club! I ain’t going until you drink.”

You eyed him, before your gaze snapped to the liquor in his hand. That’s right, it was Angel Dust you were trying to drag home. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, especially with the fact he was almost eight feet tall. With a sigh, you took the shot glass and lifted it to your lips. You threw your head back, downing the contents in one go.

It burned as it traveled down your throat, but slowly, the flavor hit your senses, and you blinked your eyes. You felt.. different, already. You looked at Angel, before setting the glass down on a nearby table. “This was actually kinda good, what is it?”

“Amrita.”

“What?”

“A sex potion. Y’know, makes your juicy parts tingle, and gets ya craving for a strong man to come satisfy your desires. It works, I promise.”

Your mouth opened, and then it closed. No way did Angel Dust just give you a libido booster. You put a hand to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut. Was one shot going to do much? Were you going to become a mess right next to Angel? Fuck, you should have resisted that temptation.

You wrapped your fingers around Angel’s forearm, pulling him towards the staircase. “Let’s go, Angel, we don’t have time for games.”

He wasn’t able to take a step forward before one of the large onlookers pushed forward between the two of you. His head and body resembled that of a Great White Shark. His cold eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and you took a step back to widen the distance.

“Where are you two heading off to in such a hurry? You interrupted us earlier, friend. Us and the spider were just chatting about him joining us for the night. Isn’t that right?” The man turned to Angel, who only nodded absentmindedly. He mumbled something about never having any ‘real’ fun, whatever that meant.

“My friend here is too drunk to make any kind of decisions by himself,” You replied sternly, hoping your nerves weren’t trickling into your voice, “He needs to go home and rest, now if you’ll excuse me..”

The man put a hand up as you moved forward, halting you in your tracks. “Your friend here is a big boy. He can make his own choices, and he chose to come with us.”

You shot him a glare, before looking past him to see the group of demons slowly converge on Angel, who was looking at you with a mixed expression. As if actually deliberating whether to take your hand and leave this noisy place.

“Ow! Watch it, meathead!” Angel snapped as one roughly grabbed his wrist. Pulling him away from you, towards a closed door on the other end of the room.

In a flit of rage at their man-handling, you surged forward, yanking at the thug’s wrist, trying to get him to release Angel. “Hey, let him go! I already told you-”

The words died in your throat as you felt rough hands wrap around your arms, and the sharp pain in your back as you were slammed into the wall. Your eyes snapped up, meeting the shark-faced demon’s cruel gaze and he glared intently at you.

“And I already told you he’s coming with us. Why don’t you take your little ass back downstairs to where the party is, before I make you.”

You struggled against his grip, but this guy was strong, and your strength was dwindling with every second you fought against him. “Let go of me!” You snapped.

“We should take them with us,” One of the thugs called from behind him as he pulled Angel farther away from you, “don’t want to risk them stirring up trouble.”

Your eyes widened in fear, and your gaze landed back on the demon locking you in place. He looked at his comrade, for a moment, before turning his head to face you. His lips upturned in a vicious grin.

“Well, what do you think about that, Hot Cakes?” He asked, his grip still tight around your arms, “want to join us for a little fun? Come on, i’m sure you’ll like it. Especially with that drink in your system.”

Oh no, this was bad. Really, bad. You had no chance against these guys, if only you could get Lucifer’s attention..

Suddenly, you were jerked forward, the man’s harsh grip dragging you along towards whatever lay beyond those sex rooms. You struggled, twisting in his grip. “Let go of me!” You begged.

The heavy bass of the song as it spilled out of the loud-speakers only drowned out your cries. How the hell was everyone so drunk and caught up in their own world that they didn’t notice you being forcefully removed from the scene? The demon just ignored you, and as you crossed in front of the open doorway to the balcony, your breath quickened. Your arm reeled back instinctually, fueled by the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“I said, let me go!” You screamed, clocking the shark-faced demon right in the jaw. He reeled back, a curse falling from his lips. His head snapped down to you, before he closed the distance, his chest bumping with yours. You felt your feet lift off the ground for a moment as he shoved you backwards. Your back hit the railing of the balcony, and you stumbled for a moment, trying not to fall backwards.

The demon pulled you forward by your top, his hot breath hitting your face. His eyes a darkened shade as he fumed before you. “You think you’re top shit, huh? Think you can hit me and get away with it?” He snarled.

Slightly turning your head to look below you, you realized the balcony was facing the back of the club. There was no one in sight, but you could hear the faint noises from the crowd in the distance. Was Lucifer still at the front door, waiting for you?

Your heartbeat quickened as you locked eyes with him, slowly, you felt him push you forward. Your body leaning farther and farther over the railing, you struggled against him once more. The only thing keeping you from tumbling over was his steel grip on your top. A pang of regret flashed through your mind. Fuck, you were dead.

“Enjoy your night, Hot Cakes.” He chuckled darkly, before his hand opened, releasing your clothing, and your balance faltered.

“No!” Angel Dust yelled from behind you, his eyes wide in fear as your body flipped over the railing. The man turned away from you, stalking back into the club. The balcony doors slamming shut behind him. You flailed helplessly, letting out a scream as you fell.

As you plummeted, panic surged through your veins, every instinct screaming for survival. The wind whipped past your ears, drowning out all other sound except for the pounding of your heart. In that terrifying moment of free fall, you wished desperately for something, anything, to save you from the impending impact.

At that moment, for the first time in your life, you prayed. You prayed that if not you, at least Angel Dust would make it out alive and unscathed.

‘Please, don’t let Lucifer find my body’ You begged, as the ground rushed up to meet you.

Just as suddenly as the fall had begun, it halted. Your body jerked to a stop midair, suspended in an inexplicable stasis. Confusion clouded your mind as you blinked. What just happened?

A soft chuckle resonated beneath you, and slowly, you turned your head to see Lucifer. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he extended his arms, a subtle shimmer of golden magic enveloping your form.

With a gentle motion, he guided you down, easing your descent until you landed softly in his embrace. As you caught your breath, relief washed over you.

“When you told me you’d be down in a moment, I didn’t think that meant leaping off the second story.” Lucifer teased.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You buried your face in the crook of his shoulder, trembling slightly. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be a splatter on the ground.

Inhaling his scent, you softened against him as that familiar smell of apple cinnamon and roses. Fuck, he smelled so good. Your face heating up as you breathed deeply, your thighs beginning to ache. Did he always smell so.. mouth-watering? It made you want to lean over and take a bite, would he taste as good too? He’d probably let you, if you aske-

Wait. What were you doing?! SAVE ANGEL.

Your brain screamed at you, pulling you harshly back into reality. Was this that drink making you all mushy? Damn, it really was a potion.

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the fog in your mind as you stared up at him. Quickly, scrambling out of his grip. You took his arm, a pleading look in your eyes.

“You need to help! Angel Dust is up there, and he got taken by a gang or something! They tried to take me too, but I fought back. The-they threw me off the balcony!” The words tumbled out of your mouth in one breath, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. You couldn’t imagine what could be happening up there, you didn’t want to.

Lucifer frowned, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate behind the shades.

“Who threw you off the balcony?” He growled.

“The men up there, come on, we need to hurry!” You turned, but not before you felt hands wrapping around your midsection. You heard soft rustling from behind you, and upon turning your head, took in the sight of Lucifer’s large wings extended widely.

“Let’s take the shortcut, hm?” He said, before you both were in the air with a single flap of his wings. You quickly looked around, what if someone saw him like this? It's not everyday a demon saw angel wings, and multiple of them for that matter. Hopefully, they’ll just blame it on their drunken stupor.

Lucifer lifted you up the railing, and you slowly maneuvered out of his grip, your feet hitting the metal landing. He gracefully lowered himself next to you, his wings furling before disappearing into his back.

Slowly cracking the balcony door open, you both peeked from the doorway. Your head snapped to each side of the room, no Angel. You scanned the chairs situated around the stripper stages, no Angel.

It wasn’t until your gaze landed on an adjacent room, near a hallway directly to your right, did your eyes narrow.

“See those guys over there? That’s them. There are a lot more now though. I don’t know where they took Angel, he could be behind that door at the end of the hall.” You whispered to Lucifer, who’s gaze intensified as he analyzed the group.

Tip-toeing back into the building, you stopped short at the corner. Just around the bend, you’d come face to face with your attackers.

“I can take them, no sweat.” Lucifer replied, full confidence in his tone. You didn’t doubt it, but could he fight them without risking Angel Dust’s life?

“Okay, but I need to check the other rooms,” You replied hurriedly, “There are multiple, um, private rooms up here. He could be in any of them. I need to find him, before it’s too late!”

You were about to turn away before you felt Lucifer’s grip on your wrist, preventing you from moving. Your gaze met his, but you couldn’t see what he was feeling behind the shades masking his eyes. The slight tinge of fear laced in his voice gave you a clue, though.

“You should wait,” He spoke soft, but firmly, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You shook your head at him, your gaze scanning the large crowd, before turning back with panicked eyes.

“It’s Angel Dust who’ll get hurt if I don’t find him quickly.” Your breath quickening with every second not searching for your friend.

Leaning forward, you grazed his lips with a quick kiss, “I promise, i’ll be alright.”

He looked at you for another moment, as if contemplating whether to force you to stay in the safety of his presence. He didn’t though, instead letting out an exhale of breath.

“Fine. I’ll distract them for you then, and try not to make too big of a scene,” Lucifer adjusted his sunglasses, before continuing, “but, if I don’t see you back here in ten minutes, there won’t be a club to come back to.” He threatened.

You sent him a reassuring smile, his protective nature making your heart flutter. There was no time for swooning now, though, you had a spider-demon to save.

“Oh, and take this. You know how to use one of these, right?”

You looked down at the object in his other hand, your eyes widening at the sight of a small pistol.

“Enough.” Was your only answer as you took it from his grip, adjusting it between your fingers. You weren’t going to ask him where it came from, instead just sending him a silent thanks as you turned away.

Quickly, you slid your wrist out of his grip, and hurried off. Lucifer watched you leave, your form melting into the rest of the partierers on the dance floor.

His gaze lingered on the spot where you had disappeared, before he turned towards the group of demons across the room.

They stood in a huddle, snickering between themselves near the entrance to a mysterious back room. Lucifer cleared his throat, and their heads snapped to him.

The dark corner they were standing in partially masked their features, but that bloodthirsty glint in their eyes was unmistakable.

“So, tell me,” Lucifer began, no hint of emotion in his tone, “Which one of you douchebags has a kink for throwing people off of balconies?”

“Who the fuck are you?” A tall, shark-faced man demanded harshly.

“Oh, you know…” Lucifer responded, a slight growl dripping from his voice, “Just a concerned citizen.”

“If you don’t slither back to whatever shit-hole you came out of, Shorty, i’m gonna make sure your last memory is my dagger between your eyes!”

“Oh, I’ll remember you, alright,” Lucifer chuckled darkly, rolling up his sleeves as he stalked forward, the tips of his horns protruding from his head, “As the latest bottom-feeder who thought he could fuck with the devil.”

The group of demons regarded him with a confused expression for a moment, their gaze bouncing between each other in silent questioning. Unsure about the stranger’s lack of fear.

The shark-demon turned to face them, his frown deepening as he watched them stand there like children waiting for Mommy’s instruction.

“Well? What the hell are you waiting for!? Kill him!”

Brandishing their close-combat weapons, five demons charged at Lucifer. Their menacing frames towering over the smaller man.

“Finally,” Lucifer grinned wickedly, before rolling his shoulders, “Some fun!”

Fingertips igniting with a golden flame, he surged forward, meeting the oncoming demons halfway. The closest one gripped their axe tightly, before pulling it behind them. In a blink of an eye, they swung their arms forward.

The axe sliced through the air, aimed right at Lucifer's throat. It didn’t connect, as he gracefully leaned backwards, pupils dilating as he watched the weapon whisk right above his hair.

“Missed me!” He yelled playfully, before dodging another swing of a blade. A throwing knife whizzed right past his ear as he evaded the attack. It hit the chest of a demon charging behind him, who fell with a loud thump, their body twitched for a moment, before stilling.

“Missed me again! Wow, you guys suck at this!”

“How is this guy so fast?!” One of the gang-members yelled incredulously, before chucking another throwing knife in Lucifer’s direction.

He melted into the shadows of the room and the knife hit the opposite wall, embedding into the cracked paint. The group twisted their heads around the area, eyes scanning for the vanishing stranger.

“You look tired!” Lucifer grinned behind one of the thugs, who pivoted with a yelp of surprise at his appearance. The mace in their hand beginning to rise for an attack.

“Why don't you—” Lucifer snarled and reeled back an arm, an enclosed fist at the end of it. He swung it forward and it connected with the larger demon’s stomach, a strangled gasp escaping their lips.

“—Sit down!”

With a flash of golden light, the demon shot backward. He flew through the air, his back smashing into the window on the opposite wall. He sailed right through it, letting out a shriek as he plummeted towards the ground.

The scene halted for a moment. Multiple wide eyes snapping from Lucifer to the large, broken window that their comrade had just exited. Pieces of glass scattered across the room were the only remnants of the crime.

“Holy shit..” one muttered quietly in shock, fear etched onto his features. He dropped the weapon in his hand, and scurried off towards the staircase leading out of the club.

“That’s called karma, bitch!” Lucifer laughed. He stood in the same position he had punched the guy, casually brushing off a few specks of dirt from his sleeves. Adjusting his sunglasses once more, he surveyed the rest of the demons.

“Who’s next?” he grinned.

The gang-members exchanged nervous glances. Some withdrew a few steps, a few tightened their grip on their weapon with calculating glares. None made the first move.

“Alright then,” Lucifer hummed, “Guess i’ll just have to pick.”

Snapping his fingers, a whip appeared in his hand. A long, thin wire coated in golden flames dragged across the floor. Scorch marks trailed behind as he slowly stalked forward. With another burst of magic, the room filled with thick, gray fog. To any demon that would walk into the room, they’d probably just think it was the fog machine acting up.

“Eeny..” He started.

Right as the bass dropped, and the floor vibrated beneath his feet, Lucifer cracked the whip. It shot forward, slashing one demon right in the throat. Blood spurted from the gash, and with a few gurgled screams, the demon face-planted onto the floor.

The room went into a panic, as the gang-members frantically searched for the way out of the dense fog. One ran straight into a wall, knocking him unconscious as he slid down the side of it.

“Meeny..”

The music drowned out the whip once more as it curled around the foot of a wolf-built demon, with a harsh tug, the demon clawed for something to grab before he was thrown out the now-broken window. He screams echoing in a mirrored symphony of the last.

“Miny..”

The whip evaporated from Lucifer’s hand, as he charged an unsuspecting gang-member. They pivoted in his direction, right as he wrapped his hands around their throat. Golden tendrils seeped from under Lucifer’s sleeves, and curled tightly the demon’s neck. With a snap of his wrist, the thug’s head twisted an un-natural angle, and he fell backwards.

Landing softly in front of the body, Lucifer’s eyes narrowed on the area in front of him. The fog cleared, and the only one left standing was the leader of the gang. His eyes were dark, his teeth bared as his gaze traveled across the broken bodies of his comrades. His rage was going to be the death of him.

“I’m tired of this shit. Let’s finish this, Pipsqueak!” The Shark-demon roared. Reaching behind him, the gang leader carefully pulled a large, silver machete from the sheath strapped to his back.

This one was rather different, though. It was laced with shimmering white etchings, that pooled at the tip of the blade.

Angelic steel.

Lucifer only grinned widely at the sight. Before planting his feet firmly into the ground, the demon would regret thinking he had the upper hand. He should have ran when he had the chance.

In a flash, Lucifer’s wings unfurled. Bathing the room in a red glow as the tips of his flight feathers grazed the opposite walls. The shark-demon’s eyes widened, his stance faltered for a moment, but the grip of the blade tightened.

“Moe.” Was all Lucifer uttered, and with a large beat of his wings, shot straight for the demon. With a battle cry, the leader raised the machete high, ready to slash at the fallen angel.

At the last second, Lucifer ducked, curling his wings around himself as he evaded the blade and slammed right into the shark’s chest. The heavy blow knocked the demon backwards, and the weapon flew from his grip.

Reaching out an arm, Lucifer snatched it, turning it on its user. With a downward swipe, he planted the blade right into the fucker’s heart. The demon’s knees hit the floor, as blood dripped from his mouth, the life fading from his eyes.

“This is to make sure you keep your filthy hands off what doesn’t belong to you,” he snarled in the demon’s ear, “know you died simply because your mama’s manners never rubbed off on you.”

Lucifer stood there for a moment, on the dead man’s corpse. His breath heavy as the thick scent of blood and pain filled his nostrils. He may have descended from the Heavens, but ruling a place like this for so long can really turn a guy feral when it comes to protecting the ones he loves most.

With his wings disappearing back into his frame, Lucifer turned towards the closed door. With a flick of his wrist, it slammed open, and he took a step inside.

It was empty, stacks of cash laid strewn on the table before him. Bottles of empty liquor sat on the small bar across the room. It seemed like a hideout for the gang, but Lucifer deathly was aware of the silence. There was no Angel Dust, which meant..

A moment of panic overtook him as he backtracked out of the room, his eyes feverishly searching for you. Were you okay? Did they hurt you? It had been long enough, you should have been back by now. He bolted out of the hallway, pushing through the crowd of drunken partiers.

He needed to find you, before it was too late.

✧༺🤍༻∞

Your feet skidded to a halt in front of the first private room. The line of doors sat in an adjacent room to the dance floor, away from the prying eyes of club-goers. The sign on the door indicated it to you as it was occupied. You took a deep breath, before gripping the handle.

You yanked open the door, taking in the unwanted sight of two demons naked on the bed. Their heads snapped up, eyes wide at your intrusion.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!!” You screamed to them, covering your eyes.

“It’s okay, Sugar. You can join us if you want!” One yelled at you flirtatiously.

“No thanks!” You replied as you scurried away, your gaze already zone in on the next room. Jiggling the handle, you found it locked tightly.

You placed an ear to the door, straining for any sounds. Angel was in one of these rooms and you’d make sure he’d come out unscathed.

“Get the fuck off me, you murderer!” You heard a familiar, muffled voice yell behind the door.

Fear gripped at your heart as you recognized his cry. Your head whipped to the bar closest to you, searching for something you could use to break through. Besides the shelf of bottles was a fire extinguisher, bolted to the wall.

You rushed forward, scanning the area for any signs of the bartender, before grasping the handle tightly. Using all your strength, you pulled it towards you. It snapped off its hinges and caused you to stumble backwards from the force, clutching it to your chest.

Your head snapped back to the door and you crossed the room. You lifted the fire extinguisher above your head, and waited. Just as the beat dropped, and the speakers filled the room with deafening bass, you smashed the red canister against the handle.

It flew off, skidding across the floor. You dropped the extinguisher, before picking the pistol back up. Lifting your leg, you used all your strength to kick the door open, revealing the scene inside. The scene before you was chilling—Angel, bound to the bed with his clothes slightly torn, struggling against a demon holding him down. Without hesitation, you raised the pistol, aiming it at the demon's head.

"Let him go," you commanded, your voice trembling with fury and determination.

The demon’s eyes widened at the weapon aimed at his face, before quickly reaching his hands in the air to surrender. “Let’s watch where you point that thing, now.” He joked darkly.

"Get the fuck out." you snarled, your voice low and threatening. You weren’t sure whether you had the strength to actually pull the trigger, nor did you want to further traumatize Angel Dust.

The demon backed up to the wall slowly, tip-toeing around you as you turned on your heels to continue facing him, the gun never leaving it’s sight of the man. After reaching the door, he quickly fled with his tail between his legs.

Breathing heavily, you rushed to Angel's side, helping him stand. "We need to get out of here," you said urgently, glancing around for any other threats.

Angel Dust’s eyes widened at the sight of you, his mouth opened in shock. “I-I thought they killed you!” He sputtered, gripping your arms tightly as his hands came free from the bindings. He looked like he was about to burst into tears.

It was then that another figure barreled into the room, eyes wide and panic in their voice as they called out for you. You turned sharply, gun drawn once more, aimed right at.. Lucifer’s face. This time without the sunglasses blocking those pretty eyes of his.

Your shaking hands loosened around the gun at the realization, and it dropped to the floor at your feet.

You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was okay! Of course he was, but that didn’t mean your mind wasn’t racing with worry for his sake. It was the other way around too, as Lucifer returned the hug ten fold. You could feel his rapid breath against your neck as he melted slightly into you. The worry fading from his eyes, as he gave you once over for any injuries.

“About time, you dick!” Angel muttered besides you, rubbing his wrists where the rope marks were no doubt beginning to bruise beneath his fuzzy. He seemed offley sober now, unlike you, who’s mind was still a bit fuzzy from the Amrita.

Releasing Lucifer slowly, you stood up, turning back to Angel Dust. He was relatively untouched, it seems you made it just in time.

“Those thugs are taken care of,” Lucifer began, his pupils still dilated to slits as he hissed out the words, “they won’t bother you anymore, although, i’d recommend you stay away from this place from now on.”

Angel Dust nodded besides you, “Y’dont gotta tell me twice. Now, how about we use some of that sick teleportation magic of yours and get the fuck outta here?”

“That sounds really nice, right about now.” You breathed, a faint smiling appearing on your lips.

You turned towards Lucifer, but a shadowy figure behind him caught your attention. In the doorway, a demon bleeding profusely from his side glared daggers into Lucifer’s back. Raising an arm, you caught the sight of a silver-tipped pistol lifting to aim right at his head.

“Watch out!” You screamed. Instinctually, you shoved Lucifer aside, positioning yourself between the gun and your love. Lucifer’s head snapped in your direction, and his eyes widened as they turned a midnight-red.

“Wait, no-!”

Lucifer started, pulling you close to him, right as the thug pulled the trigger. You heard the sickly pop as the gun fired and squeezed your eyes shut.

You saw a flash of golden light behind your eyelids, and felt your feet lifted off the ground. You felt a cool breeze hit your face, with the familiar feeling of floating midair. Were you being teleported?

Suddenly, your back hit the hardwood floor of your room in the hotel and your head bounced on the ground. Pain seared through your body as you landed harshly, and you were knocked unconscious.

Lucifer’s face appeared before yours, his eyes searching for signs of life. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared down at your motionless form. Panic clawed at his insides, threatening to consume him entirely. He reached out trembling hands, fingers shaking as they brushed against your cheek, desperately searching for any hint of warmth. Did the bullet hit you? If it was truly an angelic weapon, there was no chance to save you.

"No," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "Please, no."

Your eyes flew open, and you shot up from the ground, gasping. Taking in the sight of your atelier, with its canvases strewn across your room, you turned to face Lucifer. Relief flooded his entire being as he watched you awaken.

A wide smile spread across his face, breaking through the darkness that had threatened to engulf him moments before. "You're alive," he breathed, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He scanned your body for any blood or injury, and found none.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as if afraid you might disappear if he let go. "I thought I lost you," he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you're here. You're safe."

“Angel Dust?” You asked hoarsely.

“Fine. I dropped him in the lobby.”

He held you for a moment longer, before pushing you back. Your breath hitched, watching him. His teeth were bared, his eyes still dark as he regarded you.

“What were you thinking? Trying to save me?”

“What was I supposed to do?! Let the bullet hit you?”

“Yes!” He snapped, before he closed his eyes, and his features softened. He hung his head, averting his gaze.

“Your life is much more important than a few holes in my body. I would gladly lay down my life for you or Charlie, I don’t care about the circumstances.”

You wanted to retort, tell him how stupid he is for saying such things. Instead, you sidled up to him. Your knees gently grazed his own, and you took his hand.

“And what about you, hm? Do you think your wellbeing doesn’t matter? You may be a super powerful fallen angel, but you’re still my super powerful angel. You can’t just run off and die and think nobody is going to care.”

Lucifer hummed softly, his head tilting at your words. A smile formed on his lips as he listened. He hadn’t heard anyone speak to him like that in a very long time.

You took in the sight of the most powerful being in the realm. His hair disheveled with sweat beading down his forehead, as the soft red glow from the window lit up his features. You sat there, drinking in his presence. He looked absolutely beautiful, breathtaking even. Watching him practically come apart at the very thought of seeing your lifeless body, it awakened something in you. The driving urge to claim him, once and for all. To make him yours, forever.

The thought of him defending you, in a way no one ever has before, made you horny. A primitive urge that’s sat dormant since you were first born.

Is this how the lioness on TV felt when she watched her man tear into a pack of hyenas to protect her and her cubs? Maybe, you were finally understanding it.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, or that damn drink playing with your head, but the heat that slowly crept from between your thighs was unmistakable.

You wanted him so fucking badly.

“What?” Lucifer’s eyes snapped up to you, surprise written on his face.

Shit, did he hear that?

“.. I want you, Lucifer,” You whispered, “I want your heart, your mind.. and your body.”

He tensed, and you hoped he understood what you were implying. But it wasn’t long before you felt strong hands pushing you backwards. You laid back slightly, using your arms to support your upper body. Lucifer kneeled in front of you, his pupils practically invisible as he pulled off his shirt.

You sent him a sultry smirk, before Lucifer closed the distance, climbing on top of you. Gripping at your top, he pulled it from your frame, leaving you bare-chested as well. His eyes traveled down your nude body, as if he was memorizing every crevice and line in your skin.

You felt a slight bulge in his pants as he kneeled above you, and you bucked your hips. Hearing a hiss of pleasure escape him.

You leaned forward, taking his lips in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, using his weight to keep you upright as your teeth grazed his lip. Lucifer broke from your mouth, trailing quick pecks down to your throat. He placed a wet sloppy kiss in the crook of your neck, and your eyes rolled back with pleasure.

You moaned as his lips trailed down father, in the valley of your chest, and down to your waist. Gripping your lower garments, he tugged them free. You sat back, legs spread as you allowed him to do as he wished.

He stopped suddenly, and looked up at you with those pretty yellow eyes of his.

"Are you sure about thi-" He started to say softly, but you cut him off.

"I’ve never been more sure." you said, your hands caressing the side of his face.

He smirked before picking you up, which was no effort, considering the angelic strength he held. He laid you gently on the dining table and trailed kisses down your body once more. The only piece of clothing you had left was the one that covered your nether regions.

"Oh, Luci," you moaned as he slowly took off your underwear. He kissed the inside of your thighs, teasing you before pulling away. You glared at him, and he sent you a smirk, before taking your mouth in another kiss.

“You’re mine,” He muttered, lapping at your collarbone, “no demon, angel, or any other being in creation will ever come between us. Not a single soul will ever wish you harm and lay their filthy hands on you again.”

You felt his erect manhood pressing against your entrance. You hadn’t realized he had fully removed his clothes until you felt his nakedness against you.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned. You jerked your hips against his, teasing his tip into you. He shuddered for a moment, before stilling.

You bit your lip and gave him a sultry grin. That was all the encouragement he needed; with a single, long thrust, he surged inside you, burying himself to the hilt.

Desperate to have him closer, you hooked your legs around his back and pressed your heels against his ass.

“More.” You moaned, and he obliged, thrusting again. Your legs trembled at the sensation.

You felt a growl— or maybe a purr— resonate from his chest. Your audible sounds of pleasure only further spurred the intensity of his thrusts, as he slammed into you harder and harder.

You screamed his name loudly as you came, bliss blooming across your body. He didn't wait for you to come down from you high as he continued his thrusting. With him in control of you now, he was hitting your insides from an incredibly pleasurable angle, and even before your first climax ended, you felt another one rising within.

You tightened your thighs around his back as you came again, your walls flexing around his cock and gripping it so tightly you could feel it pulsing inside you. You both stilled for a moment, and you felt him starting to lean against you.

Except, you weren’t quite done yet. Now, it was your turn.

Sitting up straight, you moved your leg forward and pushed him backwards with your toes. He stumbled and limply sank into the chair behind him, his hair coated to his face with sweat, his half-lidded eyes watching you intensely.

Your feet hit the cold floor, a rather refreshing feeling from the burning within you, as you sauntered over to him. Taking a finger, you let it graze the underside of his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“You’re such a good boy,” You whispered, your voice like honey to Lucifer’s ears, “always doing what you’re told. Never fussing. Good boys deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

You swore you heard him whimper, and that surprised you. The big boss of hell, coming undone beneath you before you even began. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you lowered yourself.

You slowly sank onto his length, your ass meeting his thighs as you accepted all of him. Slowly, you grinded your hips, and he whimpered again. It was a musical sound, and it made you desperate to hear what else could come from that pretty mouth of his.

Using your legs to strengthen your movements, you bounced atop him. Every smack of your ass against his skin sent you deeper into ecstasy. Leaning your head down, you bit his shoulder as another wave of pleasure hit you. He moaned beneath you, and you bit him again, lapping at the teeth marks left in your wake.

You felt his breath hitch as you came down with more intensity, his own climax nearing. You increased your pace, and felt his waist lifting to meet you as you descended upon him again. His grip around your midsection tightened, his claws digging in your skin as he threw his head back, a moan of pleasure escaping his lips.

Heat blossomed from your stomach and you let out a breathless gasp as you reached your own climax. Your body trembling from the intensity, as you collapsed into his arms.

Breathing hard, you both sat there for a moment, before you lifted up your head and used your hand to push his curls back that were plastered to his face. You wanted to see those pretty eyes of his in their full glory. The look he gave you was of such adoration you wanted to cry.

Have you ever felt this loved before?

“Stay with me tonight, won’t you?” You pleaded with doe-eyes. He smiled, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his skin turning you to liquid against his touch.

“Anything for you,” He whispered into your ear.

His wings unfurled, and you felt them curl around your naked body. Your eyes began to close, and Lucifer’s gentle hums lulled you into a state of blissful sleep as you sank further into his chest.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I hope that wasn’t too long of a fic, but in my defense i need it that long for my writing 😩 This part had me studying over on wattpad to get the smut accurate lmaoooo

lmk what you think!!

Tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hellaverse #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader

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moongothic · 4 months

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Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #Nico Robin #THIS POST WAS AN ACCIDENT. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. WHY DID I WRITE THIS. WHAT DEMON POSSESSED ME #I'm sure someone's written this already right #Right #Surely this fanfic already exists #Please tell me it exists #I dunno what to tell you I am not immune to a Juicy AU #Anyway on a more wholesome side of things: Robin accidentally calling Crocodile ''dad'' and he just inhales and swallows his whole cigar #Nearly chockes to death. Gets burns on his throat.#Robin feeling less alienated because of her DF ability because Croc has seen weirder AND is made of sand himself #If anything if they're literally by themselves then Robin being able to literally lend a hand to Croc at any time could be extremely useful #Like. In regular life situations. 'Cause Croc only has one hand. And Robin as many as she wants. Perfect duo.#(Also if they were travelling on like a small ship then it'd probably be built for a Tall Motherfucker like Croc right)#(Robin's ability would just make the ship more accessible to her and Croc would find that independence good)#Robin still gets a codename because Croc can't have anyone realize who she is. Maybe she even wears like a mask or summin' in public #If Crocodile's openly trans and the news of him transitioning recently broke out. Like. No avoiding that convo eh #Baby Robin's like ''...I read in a book once that some reptiles can change sex but I didn't know crocodiles could do it too''#''💦.../Humans/ can't do that normally either''#''Hmmmm. Weird. I don't think being a girl would suit you though'' // ''...I'll take that as a compliment''#I just. I think they could have really cute interactions if they warmed up to each other after a little while #And I'm Extremely Normal about that

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mockerycrow · 8 months

Text

UNDER THE SURFACE (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist — ghost icon by @yumethefrostypanda concept post here!

authors note; this is not my best work tbh, i wish i could improve it somehow, but i’m hoping you guys will like it anyway. Pretty sure this is my longest singular post, too! 4.7k words :-)

[WARNINGS: angst, spiraling thoughts, near panic attack, hurt/comfort, inaccurate medical stuff, vague descriptions of physical violence, very brief mention of possible self harm.]

YOU WERE USED to Simon being gone for long periods of time; you have been his roommate for two years now, nearly three. You know he’s military, it’s part of the reason why you were able to score being his roommate in the first place. At first, it was a very awkward arrangement. Simon himself wasn’t a very awkward person, no—he’s actually quite charismatic in his own way, a way that you could get along with. One of the reasons why the arrangement was strange at first was because you weren’t exactly able to get a one on one tour of the flat before agreeing, but you were a bit more trusting of this mysterious man because a mutual friend—Kate—sent you his contact information, considering you were looking for a new place to live since your lease was up.

Simon’s flat was void of any personality, really. Yes, you could tell by the way he organized everything that he had been in the military, probably for quite a while—but there weren’t any photos. No gaming systems; you discovered he did have a bookcase of quite a few books, but it was covered in a layer of dust. Despite this, when examining the books he owned, you could tell they were worn down—definitely loved. It made you smile a bit, seeing the different variety of books. A bit of personality, you think. Besides his room, it was like a completely furnished, no personality flat. You weren’t allowed in his room, not unless he gave you explicit permission, which you honored his boundaries. Simon was kind enough to offer you a space in his home—but you know he was quite weary of you, which was understandable. He helped you move in and you could tell he was watching you and your body language. Searching you for danger—but he slowly warmed up to you.

Another thing that you discovered that Simon was quite emotionally.. constipated. Over the first few months, you could tell he didn’t sleep as much as he probably should. He was always awake before you, and you would always find him in the kitchen, sipping on a hot cup of tea. After a few weeks of this routine—Simon rising much earlier than you, you figured maybe he couldn’t break the military’s strict routines.. Until one night you woke up from the sound of his heavy footsteps walking down the hall. You tensed in your bed and you sat up because Simon was silent as a ghost all the time. You didn’t even know if it was him at first, so in your half-asleep panicked state, you felt for your phone and you texted Simon’s contact, asking a messily texted “is that you walking around?” You blink your sleepiness away and wipe your eye as your phone vibrates with a “yeah. sorry.”

That was the first time you got some notion that Simon was thrown off guard from something, after another week of awakening from his noises, you began to realize that he was experiencing night terrors every couple of nights. His nightmares were never a thing you two discussed, exactly.. It was more of an unspoken rule to not talk about it. You would occasionally find yourself in the kitchen around the time you calculated when Simon would wake up—and you were right nearly every time—and you just.. coincidentally made him a cup of tea. To Simon’s pleasant surprise, you managed to get his tea right every single time. You’ve had your fair share of night terrors, so you knew how it could be sometimes. You wanted to do something nice for him, and he seemed flustered every time.

It took you a while to get used to him being gone for long periods of time. Simon appreciated that you never questioned too deeply into his career, even the times he would come home sporting a new injury, you were always willing to play doctor for him. Simon saw the concern in your eyes and sometimes he would share small stories of what happened, or maybe to get you to stop thinking about his injuries, a small story about his teammates. You slowly learned their names over the course of a year and a half, and you learned Simon’s rank as well. He is a lieutenant, and there’s a man called Captain Price, another man named Sergeant Kyle Garrick, and one more man named Sergeant John MacTavish, who Simon referred to as “Johnny” fondly.

It wasn’t common that Simon talked about work, which is the reason why it took about a year and a half to even get the information you did out of him. Over the time you’ve lived with him, you had decorated the flat to feel more comfortable and home-y. Simon only had a few requests, which you honored, and one of them was no pictures of him with his face showing. You shot him a curious and questioning look, but as always—you didn’t question him, and he was very thankful. You had gotten a few indoor plants as well that didn’t need much caring for and you wanted to liven up the place, y’know? You were okay with Simon not sharing much about his past or his work, because he was willing to listen to your little rambles about your interests and work. You were a bit hesitant, but Simon was very emotive and he never seemed annoyed or brushed you off.

Despite Simon’s reluctance to share anything of his own, he always heard you out if you needed to vent about something. He made sure you knew you could talk to him, even on days where you felt like you had no one to go to. You spent an entire night with him, just talking about anything and everything. It was the first real conversation you felt like you have had with anyone in such a long time. It was also the first night Simon really saw you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed from uncomfortableness, the vulnerability being nearly too much to handle; something he could relate to on a personal level. So when you started showing these signs, he knew exactly when to change the subject. Simon quickly realized how to read you, and he somehow knew what you needed at different moments.

Simon flies into the airport late at night with a small duffel bag, tagged as a military bag. He sends you a quick “be home soon.” text. Simon doesn’t expect you to answer due to it being around 3 in the morning, and you indeed don’t answer him. He catches a taxi to your shared flat. Simon collects his things from the taxi before paying the driver and sending them off, and Simon lets out a slow breath as he takes in the achingly familiar sight of the place he lives in. He tugs the hood that remains sitting over his head closer to his face, which is covered by a black surgical mask. His hand tightens on the straps of the duffel bag before he approaches the flat building, taking out his keys as he approaches the elevator. Once Simon reaches the third floor, he wastes no time getting to the front door, and he isn’t sure why, but his heart is pounding inside of his chest.

Simon unlocks both the top lock and the doorknob to enter the flat—something he had taught you to do every single time. He pockets his keys as he enters and Simon pauses for a moment because he can’t put his finger on it, but something feels off the second he glanced inside. His eyes trail the living room which is clean, not one thing out of place. Simon takes a deep breath and he doesn’t brush off the weird feeling, because even when there’s no evidence something happened—he’s usually right. The blanket on the couch is perfectly folded and laid over the back cushions, the mini bookcase by the TV is dusted as always, your shoes.. Are not by the front door, but a different pair are..? These either are not your shoes, or they are new. You always warned Simon about bringing people over, and you definitely would’ve told him this time. The lamp is on in the living room, but it seems the lights are out everywhere else. Simon silently goes through his routine when he gets back late at night—taking his jacket off and hanging it up, he leaves his boots by the door, and he drops his keys into the dish.

Next step to his routine is to step into the kitchen and get a cup of actually good quality tea, unlike the shit the military provides him. He fills up the electric kettle and sets a timer on it, grabbing his favorite mug and the box of his favorite tea from the cabinets. Simon glances down the dark hall—he’s seeking for a sign of life from you because you’re usually getting up around this time to greet him. No matter what, you always seem to know when he returns—yet you aren’t leaving your room. There’s no light emitting from the hall nor underneath the doors, and fuck, it’s eating at him. Something is wrong—and what the fuck is it? Simon stands there for a moment, turning his head to watch the blue light blinking on the electric kettle. He watches it blink slowly as he tries to rack his brain for what could be wrong—maybe those shoes are someone else’s, but he could just have a stern conversation with you about it later. Maybe you came back from drinking with friends—no, if that was the case, he knows for a fact your belongings would be everywhere, maybe even a spilled glass of water in the kitchen. He’s had to clean that up a couple of times.

He raises his wrist and pulls up his sleeve a bit to look at his digital watch; it’s nearly 0400 now. Simon puts his hands on the counter, leaning his body weight against it. Did something happen at work, maybe that’s why it feels off? You’ve always had a commanding presence like he has, so maybe— “Fuck.” Simon hisses quietly, hooking a finger into the strap of his black face mask and he rips it off, tossing it without care onto the counter. He leans forward and checks the kettles timer for a second, and then he’s walking towards the hall. Simon passes by his room and he walks up to yours, and he tries to turn the doorknob to peak in to check on you, but—it’s locked? Simon lets out a harsh breath before trying the door again, and yeah, it’s locked. Simon swears under his breath and he knocks on the door, his stomach twisting and turning. Something is wrong, very very wrong, very fucking wrong—

You unlock the door and you open it just enough for you to peak out, and you use your phone flashlight to shine it in Simon’s face. He squints and puts his hand up, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Hey—you locked your door.” He points out quietly, and you’re just staring at him, your eyes wide and alert. Simon’s anxiety lessens, but your reaction doesn’t make it go away. “Y’alright?” Simon drawls out, his hand on the wood panel of the door. You let out a harsh breath and you let go of your phone, letting out a quiet, “Simon..” before you suddenly pull your door completely open, and you wrap your arms around his thick torso into a hug. Simon swears his heart jumps into his throat and then into his stomach, bouncing back into his chest because you hugged him. You two were never particularly touchy like that, maybe a fleeting touch here or two, usual drunken affection from you—but you barely ever hugged him like this, even when he returned from deployments. Your touch burns hot through his clothes, and he knows you wouldn’t touch him without asking, so when you do? He wraps an arm around you, his free arm resting on your shoulder. “Hey..” Simon breathes out, lost for words.

You don’t hold on long enough for the uncomfortable worry to creep up his spine just yet. You rip yourself away from him like he burned you, his hands falling to his sides. You offer a tight, weak smile—one that you could easily play off as a sign of fatigue. Simon’s breath stutters as he watches your hands linger near your chest in a subconscious defensive gesture, your fingers closing into a fist for a moment; as if you’re uncomfortable, almost overstimulated. Simon feels the way for the light switch and he flips it on, and your room looks normal—but you look.. off. You look a bit clammy, almost like you’re sick or bouncing off the walls with anxiety. His eyes flick to your fingers and the skin besides your thumbnail and your middle finger are picked to all hell, and you just.. don’t seem right. All of these.. signs, you’re showing are actually very subtle—he just notices everything about you. Simon knows what food you favor, what your favorite color is, what social situations what you tick, what makes you mad—he knows it all. “Three months went by slow,” You murmur, trying to start a conversation. Simon’s eyes narrow at you for a moment as he watches you back up to your bed; no, you don’t turn around, you back up. You don’t turn your back to Simon at all. Fuck. He watches you lift your mattress, causing him to lift an eyebrow. “They did,” Simon confirms. “What happened while I was gone?”

This wasn’t an unusual question for Simon to ask; but it had a completely different meaning to you this time. You feel your muscles tense as you grab something from under your mattress, and you put it back down. It glints from the overhead light in your bedroom—a.. pocket knife of some sort, a switchblade perhaps. Simon’s eyes narrow at how you pocket it oh so quickly into your pocket. “Nothing much,” You reply quickly, smoothing out your shirt. “Same old same old, work has been fine, uh..” You trail off for a moment, clearing your throat. “Look, let me take a shower—I’m sure you’re itching for something to eat, huh?” Simon watches you open your drawers and pick out some pants and a shirt. The knife comes to mind—why are you taking it with you? “I can make it myself.” Simon responds, his feet planted firmly where he had been standing the whole time. You shake your head and close the drawers once you collect your clothes.

“It’s tradition, Simon. I gotta.” You offer a stronger smile as you make your way towards the door, still avoiding showing your back towards him. Simon watches as you glance at your bedroom window before exiting your room, muttering a quiet “close the door when you leave”, which Simon obeys. He shuts the door with a click, and he watches you quickly scurry down the hall towards the bathroom. “Just let me shower first.” And with that, you step into the bathroom, close the door and you lock it before Simon can interject. He stands there for a moment, stunned. His chest tightens for a moment because you just felt so far away. You’ve created such unwanted distance—even as you’re not very touchy with him, you still bother him for every detail he’s willing to give up when he returns. You are constantly making jokes, inviting him into the kitchen when you’re about to make a welcome home meal—but this time? You were hiding in your room, locking your door, bringing a knife with you—in front of him. Did you think that could slip past him? Did something happen whilst he was gone, to cause you to bring it with you? Is it for self defense against something or someone?— Is it to use on yourself?

Simon feels his stomach turn at his thoughts. He shakes his head and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He walks past the bathroom, his footsteps stuttering for a moment in front of the door before he presses his lips into a thin line, returning to the kitchen to make himself some tea, the electric kettle had beeped long ago.

The next late morning, not much was different. Simon only slept a few hours, three or four—as per usual, he still woke up before you. He threw on a pair of sweatpants, and a black hoodie. He made his tea, made you a cup of what you prefer to drink in the morning, and he made a light breakfast for you both. Despite being in the military for a while and relying on cooks as well as MRE’s to get through his days, Simon is a decent cook. He made himself some sausage and fried eggs, and he made a plate or a bowl of what you prefer to eat in the morning. Simon sighs for a moment as he glances at the time—around 1100, and you still haven’t emerged from your room which is odd, especially now that Simon just came back home. He takes a moment to look at his food, and he decides then and there he will drag you out if he has to. Simon scoops up his plate as well as your food, and he heads down the hall towards your room. With his hands full, Simon balances for a second as he gently kicks the door as a way to knock, and then he stands on both of his feet again. “Oi, wake up!” Simon shouts, leaning close to the door to listen for your movement.

It takes a good minute and when Simon is about to knock again; he hears your doorknob unlock and you peak out the door, your eyes wide and alert again, although it’s obvious you had just woken up. You seem to relax when your tired mind’s gears turn and you realize it’s just Simon. You open your door wider and you rub your eye, and he spots the knife in your hand, partially obscured by the door. “Mm, sorry. I overslept.” You say, your voice heavy with sleep, vibrating in your chest. Simon makes a noncommittal noise before holding out your food, which you stare at for a moment you take it, your lips twitching into a weak smile. “Thanks, Simon.” He waits a few seconds, and you nearly shut your door on him.

Thanks, Simon. That’s all??

“Can I eat in your room wit’you?” Simon gruffs out, feeling sudden determination from this weird act you have going on. You blink for a moment and then you nod. “Just give me a sec.” You murmur. You shut the door in his face and he hears you shuffling about, moving something—sounds like your mattress. Are you putting your knife away??—and then you open your door, gesturing for Simon to walk into your room. Surely you don’t think you can hide this type of thing from him of all people, right? Why are you hiding it from him?

Simon enters your room, and you close the door behind him. You never used to do that—“What happened?” Simon stares at you for an answer, watching your face contort in a bit of confusion. You don’t say anything at first, and when you were about to open your mouth, Simon speaks. “I mean this in the nicest way possible—do ya take me f’a wanker?” Your jaw drops for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing. “What? No, of course not, Simon. Nothing happened, I’m not sure why—“

“Don’t,” Simon interrupts, putting his plate of food on your dresser. “Something has happened, and you’re lyin’ to me. You’re jumpy, you’re carryin’ a blood knife around, lovie—don’t think you can get that past me—and you won’t turn your back on me.” His lips press into a line as he watches your shoulder hunch up a bit, in an all too familiar defensive, tense position. The pit in Simon’s stomach begins to grow as you avert your eyes from, too. “You are barely talkin’ when you bloody damn near talk my ear off when I come home—you said, ‘Thanks, Simon.’ Not an over the top reaction about me doing something for th’both of’us, not a invite in, and last night—you’ve been locking your door.” You put your food down near yourself, and Simon catches the way your fingers are trembling. “I.. I’m allowed to lock my door, Simon. You don’t need to question me.” You say, attempting to hold a steady voice which barely works, your voice nearly cracking on the last word. Your heart is racing out of your chest and all you want to do is bolt at the door; which Simon catches on to. You watch him as he slowly begins to step in front of the door. “You tell me everything—even how your damn showers go. Why won’t you tell me this?” He demands, and his heart is pounding against his ribcage, too.

He watches your face contort into several different emotions and feelings; panic, sadness, anger, relief—the whole nine yards. Simon walks towards you when you begin to sob, and you sit down on your bed to avoid collapsing. His chest tightens as he murmurs name, wondering if he went too far. You reach your hands for him and not for one second does Simon hesitate this time. He wraps his arms around you, sitting right next to you on your mattress, your thighs touching together. He reaches up and rubs the nape of your neck as you openly sob and shutter into the crook of his neck and in his arms. His skin burns from your heat seeping into his clothes, a lively warmth that burns so hot but he welcomes so much more than he remembers that he used to. Your tears are hot, burning his skin with every drop that slides onto his neck, but he welcomes the sensation. “It’s alright, lovie. Let it out.” Simon murmurs, one of his arms tugging your body closer to his. He holds you in almost protective stance, like someone is threatening to drag you away from his grasp. You grab at the back of his hoodie, your chest beginning to heave. “Mm, no, c’mere; look at me, yeah?” Simon beckons you, his voice smooth and soft—which is extremely rare. Simon cups your cheek and lifts your head from where it rests in the crook of his neck, his hand instantly getting covered in the wetness of your tears that are streaming down your cheeks. You inhale sharply as you try to look at Simon, your eyes unfocused and you try so hard to focus on his pretty brown eyes, but you can’t seem to get ahold of yourself. You let out a panicked sob as your hand now tug on the front of his hoodie, and his voice is so far away, but his hand is molding to the curve of your jaw, like it belongs there.

You shut your eyes for a moment and you let Simon move you around as he wants, which he ends up guiding your head to his chest, and his grip loosens some so you don’t feel trapped. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, to catch your bearings; you can hear a faint ringing sound that you didn’t notice before, but you do note it’s slowly fading away, and in fades is Simon’s voice. He’s murmuring praises—and oh, he’s laying against the headboard of your bed frame now, with you laying on his chest. You feel yourself trembling against him, and embarrassment hits you hard. You’re tense—you don’t want to talk about any of it at all, but you know Simon. He will push you until you snap, even if it’s in your best interest to tell him. You reach up and play with a hoodie string of his, listening to his soft breathing. You hesitate for a moment before your lips part. “It was a week after you left.” Simon’s heart skips a beat, which you hear—you vaguely find it amusing, but he’s silent to allow you to continue. One of his hands is on your back, his thumb moving back and forth. “I..” You swallow spit so you don’t croak, as you’re convinced you might sound pathetic. As if Simon would ever think of you that way. “I was walking home from the pub, y’know, the one only just a few blocks away? It was late at night, I think the police said it was around 2 am. I stayed until closing, I was with some of my friends, uh..” You trail off for a moment, trying to recall everything that happened. Your hand pauses, and Simon senses your state. He begins to rub your back full on, murmuring, “It’s alright. Go on, then.”

You let out a shaky breath before continuing. “I was absolutely wasted, and there was this guy—grabbed me and I tried to get out of his hold, but he ended up fucking stabbing me. Robbed me of my shit.” Your voice cracks and the silence is deafening. Simon feels his heart drop into his stomach. You got stabbed? “Fuckin’ hell.. Why didn’t you call me? Or at least let me know?” Simon’s voice treats carefully, knowing that you’re still freaking out by the way you’re incredibly tense against him. “I know how important your focus is when you’re gone,” You respond, your voice staying quiet as well. You don’t look at Simon’s face because you know that you’ll break once again. You pick at the fabric of his hoodie, seeking comfort in his warmth, despite how you usually aren’t like this with him. “I didn’t want to take your focus because I know you, Simon. You would’ve backed out of whatever you were trying to do to come and help me.” Simon presses his lips into a thin line, staying quiet because you both know that you’re correct. Simon would drop everything to come home to you, to help you. “The guy nicked my lung, was in the hospital for a while.” Simon’s hand stutters for a moment, the smooth pattern of his palm rubbing your back being interrupted from shock. “Jesus—“ Simon hisses, and he can’t help but tug you closer. “You should’ve told me anyway, lovie.”

You sniffle and you rub your face into his hoodie, a muffled noncommittal noise coming from the back of your throat. He doesn’t say anything further, nor do you. Simon lays there with you on top of him, one of his hands caressing your back, the other wrapped around your body, sometimes coming up to rub the back of your neck. You don’t mention the way he doesn’t seem to tell you to move, and he doesn’t mention how touchy you’re being. Simon doesn’t want this moment to end—one where you’re vulnerable and trusting with him, one where you’re alive and well. He can’t help but wonder if he ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell him something? Simon feels simmering, muffled anger in his stomach because you didn’t want to interrupt his work for being stabbed, nicking a vital organ no less—he makes a mental note to sit you down and make you promise to call him if an issue or an injury like that ever arises again. He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to push away what would happen if you didn’t do that—if that guy were to come back to try to finish the job and Simon wasn’t here, would you call him? Would you pick up your phone and dial his number? Would you text him? What if you got hurt again—would you call him?—Or would the hospital? He always imagined you’d be getting the call of his death, and not the other way around. Simon swears under his breath for a moment and opens his eyes; he doesn’t want to think about that anymore. He wants to stay in this moment with you—both himself and you alive. He glances down, your tear stained cheeks slowly drying, your eyelids closed. His fingers slide from the nape of your neck to the side, and he presses his fingers against your pulse.

Being here with you—he wants you to trust him, too; like he trusts you. That’s all he wants.

tag: @zzzennin

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classicalchan · 6 months

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liar

pairing: bangchan x f! reader

rating: sfw

tags: sharing a bed, just pure softness, cuddling, best friends to lovers, pining, confessions, tired chan

wc: i'm too lazy to count but idk it's probably 2k 😭(I'm definitely wrong)

your doorbell rings when it's close to midnight, its sound reverberating through every corner of your little apartment. your socked feet carry you from bed to the door on autopilot. you weren't sleeping, but you were nearly there.

you open up your front door and off-white light from the hallway spills shamelessly into your dark living space. Chan stands there, bag slung lazily across his shoulder, eyes droopy with sleep.

"they borrowed my place for a party i don't wanna be at," he declares. "I'm sleeping here."

he walks in without waiting for an answer, wrapping you in a quick, one-armed hug for a greeting on his way. his bag finds its place on your couch. he switches a couple of lamps on here and there and fixes a photo frame on his way to your bathroom with a towel and some clothes in hand.

you kind of like how it's so natural for him to be at your place. like he belongs here. like he could live here.

you wished he would.

you lay back in bed, shifting to a side, leaving the rest of the space for Chan. ever since you first cuddled up with him a few months ago, it became an unspoken rule between you to always sleep cuddled up when alone.

it was one of the best parts of your friendship with him. you could abandon every care in the world when he was around and just be. He was always there- gentle, warm, protective, kind. everything you wished for in a man.

everything you can't have.

it had been weeks since you had gone to bed without thinking of him. even in the face of extreme exhaustion and no contact, Chan never failed to slip into your thoughts. he needed to compensate you for all the nights you couldn't sleep just because he did something adorable during the day and you wouldn't stop thinking about it.

he needed to apologize for every time you accidentally called one of your friends by his name, just because he wouldn't leave your head.

and he needed to desperately make up for nights like these. nights when he would touch you and let you touch him, but never enough. there was always a weighted, invisible boundary you hated with all your guts. a burning line you couldn't cross.

so, over the days, you had learned to make peace with what you got, no matter how little. you had learned to make the most of his arms around you, the firmness of his torso pressed to your back, the warmth of his breathing behind your ear, his occasional sleepy rambling.

sometimes he said your name.

before you knew it, the mattress dips beside you, the familiar scent of Chan's shampoo filling up your senses. you came alive a little.

his arm slips across your middle, pulling you as close as humanly possible into the abyss that was his warmth. you could spend an eternity here without a syllable of protest falling from your lips.

“i don’t have a shirt on, is that okay?” he mumbles into your hair.

more than okay, you wanted to say but for the sake of the friendship you had spent years building, you resorted to a small hum. he usually slept barely clothed, but when with you, he always asked. he made sure never to cross any lines. he was cautious, reserved. too far.

“is everything okay?” you ask. “you usually do not turn down a chance to party.”

you feel him move behind you, long fingers fiddling with the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he yawns like a puppy.

“i’d had a busy day,” he begins. “i needed some sleep and you know how bad i am at getting to sleep alone...”

his knuckle accidentally brushes your navel. you shiver.

“…besides you weren’t there. i’ve missed having you around y/n, now that i see it.”

your skin flushes hot, lips involuntarily swelling into a smile. you turn your face into your pillow, determined to bury your happiness into the fluff.

“i’ve missed you too,” you confess.

his blunt nails graze against your flesh again, and you wonder how much of it was accidental anymore. could Chan tell? did he know how down bad you were for him?

“liar,” he whispers, squeezing your body lightly into his own.

he liked to do that, you had noticed. almost as if finding a way to inch closer, as if making up for the fact that there would always be some molecular distance between you no matter what.

or maybe you were just reading too much into it.

you place a hand over his own, fingertips drawing subtle lines into his pale skin, tracing the veins you stared at shamelessly in broad daylight.

“you really think i’d lie to you?”

“you wouldn’t?” he asks.

you turned around, facing him. your hand settles on his bare chest. you could feel his heart beat beneath your touch.

“no,” you confirm. “never.”

he smiles, his hair getting into his eyes as he puts his forehead against yours.

“okayyy,” he giggles. “tell me something then, since you claim to not lie.”

your heart picks up pace, hammering beneath your chest, and you were half afraid Chan might hear it. you swallow thickly, a small lump forming in your throat.

“yeah?”

his gaze wraps over you like a veil, clouding everything else just enough that he is all you can see.

"do you like me?" he whispers.

the question drops in your heart and sinks into your gut. you've been caught, red-handed. but you were so careful, so vigilant, looking but never for too long, complimenting him but being careful not to flirt, telling him you love him when he needed to hear it but taking care to conceal the love you felt.

you want to play it cool. you're scared of how it's going to go.

"duh," you say. "of course i like you, why else would we be friends?"

he clicks his tongue, a soft laugh escaping his lips. he drops a light kiss on your forehead and you sigh.

"you're not that naive," he states. "come on, I'll wait for you."

you feel your cheeks heat up. it gets harder by the second to stay still, not with chan's fingers rubbing warmth into your back, his face so close you could steal a kiss. he was no fool. he never had been. who did you think you were hiding from?

"i..." you begin, your mouth drying up. "yeah."

you feel his marble fingers slip under your chin. pressure, soft but commanding, forced you to look at him.

"you what, sweetheart?"

the endearment sent you spiraling. you squeeze his muscled shoulder, fingers digging into flesh.

"don't be an ass," you say. "i'm not gonna say it."

he chuckles. you watch his gaze move across your face, settle on your lips, and then back to your eyes again. you didn't want to think ahead of yourself.

you didn't want to break your heart.

he leaned in, his arm circling around your waist, his mouth leaving a soft kiss to your temple. you could die like this and it wouldn't be so bad.

"please," he whispers. "you said you'd be honest."

and who were you to turn down chan with his gentle voice and sturdy hands and body warmth and huge heart and ---? you could go on forever.

you grind your teeth together unconsciously, draw in a deep breath, and sigh. he knows you're giving in.

"i do like you," you admit finally. "so much more than a friend."

his palm slides up your back and finds your hair, long fingers gripping them and pulling you in. he smiles when he kisses you- mouth tasting of cinnamon and longing and want.

"fucking finally," he breathes. "you've got no idea how long i've waited for this."

you melt into a caramel puddle in his hands. you lean in again, pressing your lips onto his like he'd disappear, like this is all you've got.

taglist: @tinysoftie

NAVIGATION

join the taglist <3

#bangchan #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #bangchan skz #chan skz #chan x you #bangchan fic #bangchan headcanons #bangchan stray kids #chan fic #stray kids #skz #chan fluff #cuddling #best friends to lovers #bang chan #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz imagines

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ellemj · 4 months

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Right Here: 12 Days of Smut #6

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

Summary: The team decides to interrupt your spicy moment with Bucky. The two of you have to sit through a debate about Christmas movies while being as discrete as possible about what's going on beneath the blanket that's covering both of your laps.

Warnings: profanity, teasing, cockwarming, slight exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected sex, sex in a common area, dirty talk, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 1.8k (it's a lil one)

A/N: I let @littlemiss-yeehaw read this first and her biggest concern was that I originally spelled Santa Clause without an 'e' on the end and she wasn't having it. But special thanks to her for catching my embarrassing mistakes and keeping me from having a big head.

It’s so damn big. It’s so big that you don’t know how the hell you’re supposed to sit still and stay quiet enough to make it through the next fifteen minutes until everyone has gone their separate ways for bed. It’s so big that even just taking a deep breath is too much movement for your body to handle. It is so fucking big that Bucky doesn’t know how you’re taking it so well. He knows his size is pushing you right to the edge of your limits, he knows you’re probably feeling more pain than pleasure in this moment, and honestly, all of that only makes him want to hold you here longer.

Bucky probably doesn’t even know that there’s a word for what you’re doing right now. You know he’s still a decent bit behind the times when it comes to modern-day dating and sexual education, so there’s no way he would have the vocabulary to accurately describe what this is. It’s cockwarming. If he knew the word for it, he’d add it to his list of favorite things. He might even go as far as writing it down in that little notebook he got from Steve. It’s the best thing he’s experienced since the first time he slept with you.

“Come on, nothing beats the original Santa Clause movies with Tim Allen. You can’t tell me that you really think Home Alone is better.” Sam says while giving Wanda a look of disbelief. The group has been arguing back and forth about Christmas movies for the last five minutes. You and Bucky had been watching, or more accurately listening to whatever festive flick was suggested first when you’d originally settled in for a movie by yourself. It wasn’t long before Bucky finished up in the gym, showered, and found you looking all irresistible on the couch. You were curled up under your little fleece blanket with a mug of hot cocoa in one hand and the other hand running through your hair. You barely even noticed Bucky when he joined you on the couch, completely invested in the most mediocre movie you could’ve chosen. That’s when he started running a hand up your thigh, innocently at first. He let his fingertips grace your skin so lightly, gliding back and forth from your knee up to the hem of your little pajama shorts. He liked the way you tried to pretend that it didn’t give you goosebumps or make your panties a little wetter than before. He knew that he had you right where he wanted you when he let his pinky finger brush over the fabric of your panties, just underneath your shorts, and you didn’t make a single move to stop him. In fact, you actually spread your legs a little more for him, giving him a silent go-ahead. Somehow, all of that built up and led to where you are now, firmly seated on his lap with your shorts and panties pulled to the side, silently sitting with Bucky’s entire length buried deep inside of you.

The Christmas movie argument drones on around you with no sign of dying off as you fight to breathe as slow and even as you can. Bucky’s impressive girth has always been an adjustment for you, no matter how many times you’ve fucked. He always has to give you a minute or two to get used to his size before pushing himself all the way in, but there wasn’t any time for that tonight. He had been watching the tip of his cock disappear inside of you when you both heard the commotion in the hallway, warning you that you were about to be interrupted by the rest of the team. Your first instinct was to get off of him and take your seat beside him on the couch but Bucky just couldn’t let that happen, so he gripped your hips even tighter and pulled you all the way down onto his lap. You let a whimper escape your lips at the stinging pain you felt increasing with every inch that penetrated your tight little entrance, but quickly silenced yourself and sat still as Bucky arranged the throw blanket just right to cover both of you from prying eyes.

“You’re so fucking tight. If you don’t relax, you’re going to make me cum in front of everyone.” Bucky grunts in your ear, his words so hushed and whispered that no one could have possibly heard him except for you. You take a deep breath, trying your best to relax around him. You focus in on Wanda’s speech about why Home Alone is the superior Christmas movie, but your focus is quickly broken when you feel Bucky’s right hand slip under the blanket and slide along the outside of your thigh. You want to tell him to keep his hands to himself, to calm the fuck down until you can get away from everyone and have a little privacy, but there’s no way for you to do that without revealing your current situation to everyone. So, you sit there, gently biting on your bottom lip as Bucky’s fingers reach your clit and begin rubbing agonizingly slow circles. After a few seconds of stimulation, you can feel the stinging pain of Bucky’s cock stretching your walls residing.

“That’s it, you’re getting used to it, aren’t you?” Bucky whispers, referring to the size of his cock. You let out a sigh but don’t even offer him a nod in response, too scared that someone will start to suspect something’s going on underneath the thin blanket. “My cock isn’t too big for you, huh baby?” Fuck. He knows it’s too big for you, but he also knows how determined you always are to get used to it and take it all just for him. You’ve always been ambitious. Bucky speeds up his actions on your clit, and you’re just starting to feel that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach when he spreads his index and middle fingers apart and slides them further in between your legs. It’s a new sensation for both of you as you feel his fingers slip between your folds and go around either side of where his dick is currently buried inside you. You feel Bucky shudder beneath you at how wet you are for him. He so wishes he could try adding a finger in alongside his dick, but he knows it would be too much for you, especially when you’re supposed to be staying quiet. He’ll save it for the next time he has you all to himself.

You’re sick of the Christmas movie talk. You’re sick of not being able to ride Bucky’s cock until you’re a mutual mess of sweat and cum. You’re sick of sitting here so still and stoic. So, just as you think the Christmas movie talk might be nearing a close, you stretch your arms up above your head and let out an audible yawn. That small movement alone causes Bucky to move his hands to your hips abruptly, gripping you tightly as a warning for you to stop moving. You smile and pretend it’s a smile at whatever the hell Sam is saying about Santa Clause. Testing the waters, you circle your hips once, as discretely as possible. You grind down on Bucky’s cock, letting your clit press against his balls, sending a nice little rush of pleasure throughout your body.

Shit. Bucky needs everyone gone. He needs you alone right fucking now. He needs the chance to flip you over so you’re face down and ass up on the couch, giving him the perfect angle and opportunity to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to remember what holiday you’re celebrating tomorrow. Bucky holds your hips so tightly that he knows your perfect smooth skin will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he couldn’t care less. He keeps you still on his cock until Wanda and Vision finally stand up and bid their goodnights, heading off to bed. That leaves the two of you, Sam, and Torres. The two men remain in the living area for another two minutes until Bucky’s cold stare and your oddly out-of-character lack of conversational skills drives them both back to their separate rooms.

As soon as Bucky hears the final bedroom door shut in the distance, he’s lifting you off of his cock and tossing you onto the couch.

“Bucky, not here.” You laugh lightly at his impatience.

“Oh, we’re doing this right here. Don’t move.” Just to make sure you won’t move, Bucky places his vibranium hand over your middle back and pushes you down until you’re in the exactly position he wanted you in, before pulling your shorts and panties to the side once more with his right hand and slotting the head of his cock into your entrance. He doesn’t give you the usual amount of time to adjust, since you just sat on his entire length for so long. Instead, he slams into you and then watches as you quickly clamp a hand over your mouth. He doesn’t care how loud your bodies sound as they collide over and over again with each thrust. He doesn’t give the slightest shit that anyone could walk in right now. All Bucky cares about is feeling you come undone all over his cock.

He fucks you with every bit of pent-up frustration he’s withheld for the last fifteen minutes, dragging his cock out of you before pushing it back in repeatedly. You know he’s close when his vibranium hand leaves your back and he uses both hands to grip your hips and pull you back to meet every thrust. With your hand clamped over your mouth still, you fail to warn Bucky that you’re right on the edge of an orgasm, but you don’t even have to. He can feel the way your walls are clenching around his shaft and the way your legs are fighting to spread even more so he can reach impossibly deeper inside you. You want more, you need more.

Bucky snakes his flesh hand between your legs and begins giving your clit the stimulation that it needs to force an orgasm out of you. He fucking hates when you hold it back. As your orgasm rips through your body, causing your legs to tremble and pussy to tighten around his cock even more, Bucky continues to fuck into you until he can’t contain himself. He copies your annoying little move, refusing to tell you that he’s close. You figure it out yourself when you hear a deep groan rumble past his lips and feel him thrust one final time, making sure he’s balls-deep before filling you with his cum. He ends the night with one simple question, as he pulls his length out of you and situates your panties and pajama shorts back where they belong.

“So, do you have a favorite Christmas movie?”

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes fic #12 days of smut

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angel-eyes05 · 11 months

Text

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count: 4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late.

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end.

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

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#miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #spider-woman reader #across the spiderverse #fem!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #spiderman #spider man #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderverse

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