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comfortwriting · 3 years

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I Hate You - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: Enemies to lovers smut! Fred is constantly getting his classmate into trouble, and Y/N is finding herself spending more of her evenings in detention with him - her hate for him growing. One evening, something out of the ordinary happens between them.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mention of blood, smut, fingering, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex.

"Stop shaking the desk!" you hissed at your transfiguration partner.

Fred smirked and squinted at you "no" he replied, his ego popping out in his voice "if you've got a problem go and sit somewhere else"

You watched Fred waving his wand at the mouse that cowered in front of him, letting out little squeaks each time Fred failed to transform it into a large cotton bud.

How this feud started between the two of you - you couldn't remember - you were past caring. All you know is that Fred hates you, and you hate him, his face pisses you off and your face - your body frustrates him.

He thought about you constantly, almost as if you were invading his mind on purpose just to taunt him - you appeared in his dreams and he couldn't stop it, he couldn't figure out why this was happening - why he would dream of you feeling nothing but hatred, only to wake up with his ejaculate spilling on his bedsheets.

"Don't ask me for any help during potions class, then." You replied, taking out your wand, the mouse suddenly going stiff, then turning round fluffy, losing its legs, ears, facial features, and tail.

Fred scowled at you, poking the cotton bud with the tip of his wand "I wasn't going to" he slouched back in his chair, pulling apart what once was the mouse, grumbling under his breath. "This is kids stuff" he huffed "It's only why you're good at it."

You rolled your eyes and snatched the cotton bud out of his hands, 'Reparo!' putting it back together and transforming the bud back into the innocent, shy, creature that curled up into and started to tremble in your hands.

"Miss Y/L/N, I think your partner can do his own work" Miss McGonagall spoke out, staring down at you whilst walking past your desk "Sit up Mr Weasley!" she hissed at Fred, hurrying to the front of the classroom.

Fred sighed and sat up grudgingly, "It's alright for you, being a good girl who never makes mistakes, who everyone loves so dearly."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes "you talk so much shit, Fred Weasley!" you huffed "I actually spend my time revising because I actually make mistakes, something I'm sure you've never given the time of day to work on!"

Fred huffed "You sound just like my brother Percy, it's as if he never bloody left!"

Whilst the back and forth continued to unfold between you and Fred, the class was dismissed, everyone leaving - you and Fred didn't notice, too wrapped up in arguing, his brother George and friend Lee stayed behind, watching and enjoying the entertainment.

"Well, you know what!" you raised your voice, picking up your bag and pushing your books inside "sod you! you're on your own next lesson, don't come begging when Snape rips you a new one!" you stood up from your chair and stormed off.

"Nice one Fred" George called out, walking out of the great hall and towards the dungeons "you're going to suffer in there, mate."

Fred pulled a sour face "she's the most obnoxious bitch I've ever met"

Unfortunately for Fred, you were in earshot of his insult "Obnoxious bitch?" you laughed out, catching up to him "lads like you are all the same, threatened by smarter women"

George laughed, bashing Fred in the ribs with his elbow, Fred felt mortified and could feel himself wanting to grab you and shove you against a wall, the thought of doing it however made him feel something he didn't want to admit...

he couldn't

no way

feelings for you? oh please...

Fred rattled his brain, trying hard to shake this intruding feeling out of him, he hates you, love is out of the question, anything intimate is a red flag.

"Well, with what you lack in looks and personality you make up for in IQ, I'm not threatened by you, you're just disgusting to look at and be around. My skiving Snack boxes wouldn't change your appearance you're that bloody ugly." he snapped.

Ugly.

Your heart pained at the word, why? you didn't know, whenever anyone attacked your looks and your body, you didn't care, it meant nothing to you - so why your heart is suddenly hurting did more than baffled you.

Why should you care?

It's not like you're in love with him or anything

You could feel your stomach doing flips, your blood boiling, how dare he!

"it's a shame because your dick will never match the size of your ego, regardless if it's flaccid or hard." You snapped back, pushing past him, bashing into him on purpose, storming towards the dark and dingy dungeons.

Fred went bright red, infuriated that you shamed him in front of his twin, especially for something that he believed determined his value as a man, his blood - like yours, now also boiling.

He wanted to storm after you, grab you by the wrist, pull you into him so you couldn't escape, he wanted to stare down at you whilst demanding an apology, hell, he wanted to show you - show you just how wrong you were.

"Come on now, Freddie" George spoke out, breaking him out of his thoughts "don't let her bother you, all the lasses say shit like that - if you let her get under your skin, she's winning."

she's winning

Fred couldn't and wouldn't allow that to happen, never in a million years - you wouldn't get away with embarrassing him like this, you were in for it, without a clue of what Fred is capable of.

Potions were nothing short of pure hell, you weren't able to switch seats, forced to endure two long hours with Fred who had never looked so angry before, he shot daggers at you, practically seething and speaking through gritted teeth when he needed to look over the ingredients and steps.

"I told you not to bother asking me for help" you snarled, stirring your cauldron, Snape watching the two of you argue in pleasure behind his test papers he should be marking instead.

Fred huffed "Well until you budge over, quit being greedy and let me pick what I need or I'll keep bloody asking!"

You bit your tongue, trying not to swear "Look, you forgot your book, either go and ask Snape if he has a spare or bugger off!"

Fred could feel himself losing his temper, his body temperature increasing, his heart thumping, his fists bunching.

"The two of you will have plenty of time to discuss during detention" Snape spoke, dragging out his words.

You shot Fred an angry look, your eyes widening and your nostrils flaring, Fred looked back at you, shaking his head whilst your Professor walked away, causing the two of you to argue even more.

"Look what you've done now! Thanks a lot!" you raised your voice, stirring your cauldron so angrily, specks of dark amber liquid splashed onto the desk and your skirt, hissing away.

Fred scoffed and stood up, snatching your book away from you, gripping it in his hand "What I've done?" he shook his head "You've caused this!"

"One more word and one detention will become a week's worth," Snape warned.

"Caused what?" You stood up, puffing out your chest "I haven't done anything! You're just an idiot, a dumb idiot who is jealous because I'm going somewhere in life and you aren't because you're fucking stupid!" You yelled, the whole room becoming silent.

Fred stared at you, his heart hurting, he wanted to cry.

idiot, dumb, fucking stupid, going nowhere in life.

"You're a fucking bitch, who everyone laughs at, who everyone thinks is a loser!" He yelled back.

These two weeks of detention would change everything and the two of you had no idea.

Arriving early in the Hospital Wing which surprisingly had empty beds that had been stripped from their bedding, Madame Pomfrey waved you over to her, a forced smile spreading across her face.

"You're rather early"

"I know" you sighed "It's to make up for Fred being late" you grumbled, the thought of hours with him this evening making your head pound.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey wandered around the hospital wings, laying out dirty bedsheets, pillowcases, pyjamas, empty dishes, and medicine bottles "the two of you - when he arrives - will be cleaning everything, without magic" she emphasised that last part, "I thought I'd be rather easy on you this time, you won't be scrubbing any bedpans this week."

You nodded, realising that she wouldn't be sticking around to watch you or Fred, you walked up to the long table and popped on the large purple rubber gloves, sitting down on the stool, waiting for your nightmare to turn up.

"You can only start when he arrives" Madame Pomfrey reminded you "Whatever you can't finish, you'll do tomorrow, and if there are any patients, you'll have extra work." She walked out of the hospital wing, leaving you behind, the waiting game beginning.

Two hours passed by, two long and dreadfully boring hours, you stared at Fred's matching purple gloves, itching to just get started and clean up; but you couldn't.

Instead, you filled the large bucket with laundry detergent, there was no point in adding any hot water, it would be left to cool anyway if Fred didn't show up soon.

Fred waltzed in, laughing and waving goodbye to his twin, shutting the door behind him. His face dropped when he met your eyes, he noticed your gloves and smirked, laughing lightly "you look ridiculous."

"I don't care what you think," you snapped "You're two hours late, everything just piles up you know, it doesn't just go away."

Fred pulled out the wand from his pocket "Oh come off it, love."

Love?!

Fred fell quiet, he felt embarrassed, mortified, and you stared at him confused, horrified even, your eyebrows knitted together. You brushed his mistake aside, knowing that pulling him up about it would just strengthen the argument.

"We can't use magic." You pointed to the line of buckets, sponges, scrubbers, mop, and broom "Everything has to be done by hand, the muggle way."

Fred's face fell, even more, something you thought wasn't possible, you picked up his matching purple rubber gloves and threw them at him "put them on."

Fred wanted to argue, but he couldn't, he didn't know what to say - the feelings inside of him confusing him, making him question everything, he felt sick, he could feel a strange fluttering inside of his stomach, something he only felt when he was in love.

Why was he feeling this now? How was he such a thing... love for you? He hates you.

Fred caught the rubber gloves and put them on, not saying a word. You filled up the empty buckets with warm water, the cleaning liquid making the water foam up with bubbles.

"You sweep" you passed him the boom "I'll mop after you've done, we'll take turns washing the bedding, pyjamas, dishes and bottles."

Fred's hate for you suddenly went through another wave, the fire igniting in his belly, he snatched the broom from you. "Just shut up and let's get on with it." He snapped, starting to sweep the dusty, grimey floor.

You walked away from him and sat down, huffing so the hair in your face moved away over your head, you placed the bucket on your lap, grabbed the pyjama shirt and laundry stain remover soap and started to scrub, focusing hard on the fresh spots of blood.

"I wasn't the one who turned up two hours late," you muttered under your breath, scrubbing the shirt harder, the red liquid slowly getting lighter.

Fred had swept the majority of the floor, he looked over at you, stopped sweeping and glared.

"Shut up," he grumbled

You grinned, the sight of him in purple gloves making you burst out into laughter.

"You look ridiculous" you laughed, dunking the pyjama shirt into the warm water, the stain finally lifting and ready to dry.

Fred dropped the broom, its long wooden handle clanked against the floor, you looked up at him as he stormed over to you, pulling off his gloves and throwing them across the room.

The way he walked with the expression on his face made you flutter, your crotch heating up and getting excited as he inched closer and closer to you, his hands now gripping on the table. You sighed and placed the bucket on the table, squeezing the water out of the pyjama top and handing it up to dry, Fred still staring at you.

You turned around, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, sighing and pulling off your rubber gloves, setting them down on the table.

"What?"

"Don't what me."

"Well stop staring!"

Fred pushed the buckets of water off the table angrily, the water splashing as the buckets collided with the swept floor, the foamy and suddy water spilling everywhere.

"What was that for!" you yelled.

Fred reached out for you over the table and pulled you into him, he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't ignore these feelings, his feelings, his wants, his needs, he couldn't deny himself of you anymore. When his lips crashed against yours, something that you couldn't describe clicked, like the missing piece to a puzzle, and you kissed back.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, lustful, and the two of you just wanted to fuck.

Your hands got lost in his hair, pulling at it as Fred gripped onto your waist, both of you now mounting the table, the dishes, bottles, bedding, and pyjamas fell on the floor, absorbing the water.

Moaning against his lips, Fred's hands pulled at your top, you moved your hands away from his hair and lifted your arms up, your top being pulled up before falling to the floor, being soaked by the water. The sight of you in your bra made Fred's face heat up and go red, he quickly unfastened your bra, unable to control himself.

He took your breast into his mouth, sucking your nipple, you lolled your head back and moaned, one of your hands held his gentle face as he sucked, the other fell down to his trousers, slowly undoing the buttons and pulling down his zipper. Your hand sneaked underneath the waistband of his boxers and you took hold of his erect length - you were wrong - his cock was as big as his ego, and you knew when you were able to look at it, it would be even bigger.

Fred's free hand dived under your skirt and went into your underwear, whilst wanking him off his index circled around your entrance hole - you were so wet, the thought of being this close to him usually repulsed you - but right now, you wanted nothing more than him inside of you, fucking you as much as he hated you.

His index finger slowly pushed inside of you, you moaned out and tugged on his cock harder, he started to finger you faster, knowing part of him was inside you made you so wet, and got you so excited. Fred added his middle finger, now pumping them faster as your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled off your red and saliva coated nipple and attacked your neck with kisses, then sucking, leaving his marks all over you.

Fred pushed you down on your back so your body was now pressed against the cool table, he continued to finger fuck you, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with both hands, already missing the feeling of his throbbing cock filling one of them. You glanced down - you were definitely wrong - his length was large, definitely outshining his ego.

"You wanted me to shut up, didn't you?" you asked Fred, he pulled away from sucking on your neck, a confused expression formed on his face.

"Is that what you want?" he smirked, catching on "you want me to shut you up with my cock?" he withdrew his fingers, now coated with your juices, sucking them clean.

Fred leaned back, taking his cock in his hand "go on then" he encouraged you "suck my cock."

"Make me."

Fred grabbed you by the hair - but not roughly or too hard - you were actually quite surprised by his gentleness. You were on your knees now, sucking Fred's large length, choking on it as you went down deeper and deeper, taking more of him in your mouth.

Fred loved the sight of you sucking him off, the sight of your mouth being so full you couldn't say something stupid, the sound of you choking made him happy, he was finally shutting you up - but part of him didn't want to shut you up, he wanted to listen to you speaking about your interests, your hobbies, what you thought of Hogsmeade and Zonko's Joke Shop.

This part of him pulled you off him, you caught your breath and wiped away the laces of saliva that were hanging from your mouth, swinging as you moved back with the back of your hand. Fred pulled you into a kiss, this time it wasn't lustful, it was gentle, caring, soft - it made your heart skip a beat and it made you weak at the knees.

Once more, your back was against the table, Fred pulled down your skirt and knickers whilst still kissing you, your hands back in his hair, massaging his scalp, Fred propped your legs around his hips, you pulled him closer to you.

Fred grabbed out a condom, but you stopped him.

"Don't bother with that crap" you sighed, wanting him inside you already "I'm on the pill."

Fred nodded, confident that this would be enough, and he applied lube onto his length.

You wondered why he had brought condoms and a sache of lube, Fred didn't know why - he never usually carried these items, but after weeks of the same dreams that he couldn't explain - that small part of him kept telling him, over and over to bring it.

Fred looked into your eyes, searching for your permission, you nodded your head.

"I'm ready, Freddie." you breathed.

Freddie.

He had never expected you - of all people - to call him that, but he liked it, and he hoped that he could hear it again.

Fred rubbed his erect length against your folds teasingly, and then slowly pushed himself inside of you, the two of you moaned and exhaled - he felt amazing - stretching you out, and your walls felt amazing - tightening around him. He started to fuck you faster, his large length plunging deeper inside of you as he bucked his hips, your legs tightened around him, as did your walls, your hands now resting on his back, your fingernails digging into him leaving marks of your own.

His moans were beautiful - perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. How could you hate him? How could you be so mean to him, insult him, mock him and shame him, he was perfect, everything about him - your heart now reaching out to his - how could you be so wrong?

You didn't hate him, you were madly in love with him.

Fred couldn't take his eyes off you and your body - the perfect shape and size of your breasts, your tummy, the feeling of your insides engulfing him in warmth, your gorgeous eyes staring into his, the feeling of your fingers tips gliding over his back, then your fingernails scratching him.

Fred felt stupid, he felt awful for what he said to you - the way he treated you - calling you ugly - you were far from such a thing. This moment felt better and meant more than any dream he ever had - this was real, this was the moment he had been waiting for - his heart finally finding yours.

"Fuck!" you moaned out, reaching the edge "Please don't stop, fuck me, I want to cum!" you wailed.

Fred couldn't stop, he didn't want to, even if he was getting tired and over working himself.

He continued to fuck you, feeling himself getting close, you lolled your head back, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and released - your cum spilling onto his length, your moans filling the hospital wing. Your orgasm face pushed Fred over the edge, he spilt himself inside you and collapsed, holding you in his arms.

The two of you said nothing, you were trying to make sense of this all, and you were in trouble - after tonight, you would have a lot of explaining to do - not just to one another, but to Madame Pomfrey who would be back in half an hour.

After coming to, Fred pulled out his wand and dried your clothes, so toastie to put back on. You started to mop the floor as Fred speedily washed the pillow cases and bed sheets, hanging them up to dry, then starting on the dishes. With the floor sparkling clean, you joined him, cleaning and rinsing the bottles.

"You're not an idiot" You spoke out, breaking the awkward silence "You're not dumb either, and I don't doubt that you're going to go far in life."

This meant a lot to Fred, it made him feel secure.

"You're not ugly" Fred replied, scrubbing another bowl "You're not an obnoxious bitch."

Looking up at Fred, into his deep brown eyes, your pursed your lips for a moment.

"I don't hate you."

"I don't either."

"I don't want to hate you, I-"

"I feel things for you too, Y/N."

Madame Pomfrey burst through the door, staring at the rows of dirty bowls and bottles that needed cleaning.

"Looks like you two will be back here tomorrow!"

You and Fred shared a glance, smiling, with a flush of pink across your cheeks.

These two weeks were the start of something special.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @lucymfer @escapingrealitybyreading @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Nervous

Hello! This is honestly just a bunch of fluff (a tiny bit of angst bc Spencer worries about everything) and the reader being very nervous! I am currently writing a sequel to take place directly after this one! Read part two here!

Summary: Reader is arrested by the BAU! Little do they know, she is dating the one agent who is currently on medical leave...

warnings: none!

Word Count: 4954

“Are you sure you can pick her up today?” You are currently running around your apartment, phone held to your ear with your shoulder. You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, but first you have to drop your daughter off at school, and you’re running very late.

“Babe, yes. I’m almost completely healed and I don’t go back to work until tomorrow. I’ll pick her up after school and then meet you at your apartment when you’re done working. Okay?” Thank God for Spencer Reid. He has been on medical leave for 5 days, slowly going insane. But, it meant more time for you and Lily to spend with him, so you’re not complaining.

“That’s perfect, thank you so much! I gotta go, I love you!” You are in such a daze, you don’t stop to think about the three words that just came out of your mouth. You hang up before Spencer can respond as you wrestle with your six year old to put shoes on. Grabbing both of your coats, you run out the door.

You met Spencer Reid 9 months ago when he came into the hospital you work in with a concussion and some pretty bad bruises. It was really a chance meeting. Normally, you don’t even deal with patients because you work in research. But, your best friend asked you to run some lab results to a patient’s room and you couldn’t say no. Dr. Spencer Reid happened to be that patient.

He wasn’t supposed to be in the room, but apparently something happened with the CT schedule, and he was done earlier than expected. So, instead of simply dropping off forms in an empty room, you hit a man with a door. Why he was standing behind the door is still a mystery to you, but you felt awful. This man is in the hospital and to make matters worse, you come along and hit him! With a door! You offered to get him some coffee as an apology, and in his concussed state he said “Only if we can go together.” You’ve since realized that was smoother than he normally acts, but you don’t care. He is the most lovable man you’ve ever met.

You met up for coffee three days later, and have been dating ever since. He met your daughter, Lily, on the second date. They clicked instantly. You knew then and there that you would love this man forever. You have not, however, actually said I love you before this morning. But, you’re still in too much of a rush to stop and think about it… or even realize it happened.

You pull into the parking garage at the hospital 7 minutes late. Honestly, better than you expected. The morning flies by as you work on research grants and hospital studies. All in all, a pretty average day. That is, until you walk back into the building from your lunch break.

You don’t get a lot of visitors in the research wing, so it’s strange to see two pretty official looking individuals at the front desk. It’s even stranger to hear your name come out of one of their mouths.

“Hi there. We are Agents Morgan and Rossi from the FBI. We’re looking Ms. Y/N L/N. Is she here?” That must have been Morgan talking.

Spencer has told you a lot about his team. You feel like you know them all already with how many stories he’s told you. You’ve been hesitant to meet them though because of Lily. You don’t want her to get too attached to him and his friends if things were to go sideways. You haven’t really dated anyone since her father, so you’re a bit nervous. Spencer, of course, completely understands. He just wants you to be happy. It’s hard not to love him even more at the thought.

You are immediately thrown into a panic at the sight of the two agents. Your thoughts are running wild with possibilities. They must be here because something happened to Spencer. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. He’s not even working today.

Your panicked train of thought pulls to a stop when the two agents walk up to you. “Ms. L/N? Can we speak with you for a moment?” You nod, leading them toward your office.

“Of course. My office is just down the hall.” You can’t help but feel nervous at the prospect of meeting Spencer’s coworkers without him. Especially if it has to do with a case they’re working. These are the people he loves most in the world. They are his family. What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re an idiot? What if they think Spencer can do better? It also doesn’t help that you know they can tell you’re nervous because you know they are profilers. You sit down behind your desk, offering them the seats on the opposite side.

“Ms. L/N, you’re in charge of the research department, correct?” Rossi says it like a question, but he clearly knows the answer.

“That’s right.” You are trying everything you can to get your nerves to settle, but it just isn’t working. You’re basically lying to two human lie detectors, even if it is just by omission.

“So if items were to go missing from this laboratory, you would be responsible for reporting it.” It was Morgan who spoke this time. It’s hard for you to follow their line of questioning. What would go missing? It’s not like you wouldn’t notice if a fume hood suddenly disappeared.

“I suppose so, although it depends on what items. We don’t have a specific inventory of commonly used products like syringes and gauze, we just order more when we get low.” You can’t decide which agent to focus on. Your eyes are flicking nervously between both of them.

“What about human tissue?” When the words come out of Morgan’s mouth, you freeze for just a second. You don’t have any human tissue in the lab, so how would it go missing? Of course, the profilers take the delay in your response to mean something other than confusion.

“We- we don’t use human tissue in this specific laboratory. We focus on small animal models. The other research lab is responsible for human tissue protocols.” You stutter through your words under the harsh glares of the two agents. It is really not helping your nerves.

“Then how do you explain this?” Rossi slides a paper across your desk. It’s housed in a large plastic bag with “EVIDENCE” across the top in big, block letters. It’s a form you have never seen before. The kind someone would fill out to transfer human tissue between labs. Your hands shake as you hold the paper, slowly trying to figure out what it is. You almost puke when you reach the bottom. It has your signature as an approval of the request. You drop the paper as if it has burned you.

“I’ve never- I didn’t- how did-” You’re cut off before you can try to finish your sentence, but you don’t hear what they are saying. You feel the cold click of metal around your wrists, tight enough to just pinch your skin. They lead you back out of the building, to a waiting SUV. You can’t help but be grateful that nobody was there to witness your arrest.

The ride to Quantico is silent. You keep trying to figure out how someone could have signed your name on that form, but you can’t focus. Your mind keeps drifting to memories with Spencer.

You remember your first date in the coffee shop a block away from the hospital. He ordered a black coffee only to pour in an exorbitant amount of sugar. He blushed slightly, as if he was embarrassed by his drink preferences, only for his features to transform into a soft smile as you did exactly the same thing. The two of you talked for hours, only ending the date when you had to go pick up Lily.

You remember running into him in the park with Lily, what you would come to refer to as your second date. He looked ethereal sitting at a table playing chess. Lily ran up to him, or rather the chess board he was sitting in front of, before you could stop her. She wanted to know what the horsey was for. You watched as he patiently explained to the five year old that it was a knight responsible for defending the king.

He told her how it moves on the board. He told her how it was special because it is the only piece that can jump over other pieces. He must have spent 15 minutes talking to her about this one piece. And she was enthralled. When he was done, he looked around to find the child’s parents only to meet your eye. You’ll never forget the way his smile grew when he realized Lily was yours. The three of you spent the rest of the day in the park, playing chess, walking around the pond, and getting to know each other.

You remember the look in his eyes right after he kissed you the first time. You remember how worried you were the first time he was injured on a case. You remember Lily asking you if he could be her daddy, and crying yourself to sleep that night because you wanted that too, more than anything, and you were so scared it wasn’t going to happen.

Then you finally remember he’s picking Lily up from school today. Suddenly, the car ride isn’t so quiet anymore.

“I need to call someone.” The words come out frantic and rushed. You are absolutely sure the expression on your face screams crazy, but this is about your kid, so you really don’t care. You need to call Spencer. Then he’ll come fix this. Explain how you couldn’t possibly be involved. The agent’s response is shorter than you expected.

“Why?” Rossi sounds skeptical when he asks it. You would later suppose that he had a reason to be skeptical of you. Right now though? You didn’t do anything wrong so the whole innocent until proven guilty thing feels a little fake to you at the moment.

“My boyfriend is picking up my daughter from school. I need to call him.” You don’t really know how to tell them said boyfriend is one Dr. Spencer Reid. You weren’t supposed to meet his friends yet and definitely not without him. You aren’t really in the right headspace to be deciding if right now is the best moment to out your relationship.

“If he’s already planning on picking her up, you shouldn’t need to call him.” It feels to you at this moment that they don’t even believe you have a child. Of course, they must know because they have the one and only Penelope Garcia to find out every little thing about you. Before you can say anything else, they are dragging you out of the SUV and into the building. You are pushed through security into an elevator that takes you to the fifth floor. The BAU. You thought the first time you visited Spencer’s work would be a happier occasion. And that he would be here. The whole situation would actually be kind of funny if you weren’t so worried and nervous.

The first thing you say when you are lead through the very intimidating glass doors is “JJ.” You would come to understand why that might earns some stares. The whole room is looking at you as if you have grown another head.

“How do you know my name?” That’s a loaded question. Spencer has showed you pictures of his godson, Henry. JJ happened to be in some of those pictures as he is in fact, her son. Of course, you can’t really articulate that because you are too stressed and nervous to form full sentences. It takes a lot out of a person to be arrested, dragged from their place of work, shoved in a car, driven two hours through DC traffic, and then pulled into the FBI building as a suspect.

Instead of properly calming yourself down until you can form a complete sentence, your eyes go wide and you say “Henry” as if that is enough of an explanation. If looks could kill, you would be dead.

“How do you know my son’s name?” JJ’s words are so harsh, you physically flinch.

“I.. it’s just that… You… Well… I-” You are a loss for words, yet again. You didn’t expect for Spencer’s best friend to ever look at you with such disgust. It’s honestly a little overwhelming to think the people he calls family all currently hate you. Even if they don’t really know who you are.

“Maybe a few hours in here will jog your memory.” And with that you’re left alone to sit in a cold metal chair and stare at your reflection.

Throughout your relationship, Spencer has tried not to worry. You frequently come home from work a bit later than you originally planned, especially if you feel like you got a late start. So, when you don’t enter your apartment right at 5:30, he doesn’t think anything of it. When 6:00 rolls around, he texts you. At 6:30 he calls. By the time it reaches 7:00 and he still hasn’t heard from you, he’s actively pacing your small living room. When his most recent call goes to voicemail, he breaks. He packs up Lily’s stuff and the two of them are on the way to Quantico, finding you being the only thing on his mind.

He replays his favorite moments with you in his mind as he drives from your DC apartment to Quantico. Normally, he’d take the metro, but if you really are missing it’s safer for Lily in the car.

He remembers the look on your face when you realized you hit him with a door. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful person. You looked so guilty, he felt the need to hug you to tell you it was okay. It was a foreign feeling for him. He’s never been one to physically comfort people. Maybe it was the concussion. It was definitely the concussion that gave him the courage to ask you to coffee.

He remembers the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach when he watched you pour almost as much sugar as him into your coffee. The soft smile on your face as the two of you spent hours talking about anything he could think of to keep the conversation from ending.

He remembers the utter joy he felt upon realizing the five year old who inquired about the horsey on the chess board is your daughter. He remembers how he felt when he looked up, expecting to find an annoyed parent given that he just lectured a five year old on one chess piece for 15 minutes, but was instead met with your kind smile and loving eyes. He loves Lily just as much, if not more than he loves you.

He remembers how you hung up the phone this morning before he could say “I love you too.” And now the thoughts he’s tried so hard to block out are circling in his mind. The words repeating in his head, over and over. What if I never see her again? What if I can’t tell her I love her?

He pulls into the garage, carrying Lily so he can run faster into the building. He puts her down when they finally reach the elevator. She’s been surprisingly calm despite Spencer’s nervous attitude.

“Spencie, where is Momma?” Spencer’s heart constricts at the sound of her sweet voice. He doesn’t know where you are, and it terrifies him.

“We are going to find out! How would you like to see my desk? You can play with the cube I showed you at home!” He pulls a Rubik’s cube out of his satchel, placing it in Lily’s small hands. He guides Lily to his desk, telling her to stay there while he looks for his friends. She looks so tiny in his desk chair, he would stop to take a picture if his phone had that feature.

He finds the team in the round table room. His eyes scan the room, landing on JJ’s concerned expression last. He’s surprised to find Will in the room as well. JJ notices him before anyone else.

“Spence, thank God you’re here. We need fresh eyes.” Before he can protest, Morgan is filling him in on the events that have unfolded.

“We brought a suspect in from DC, and she knew JJ.” Spencer’s eyes go wide. If the team is in trouble, that could be why Y/N was taken.

“When I asked her how she knew me, her only response was ‘Henry.’ Something doesn’t add up.” Movement in the doorway catches everyone’s eye.

“Spencie, did you find Momma yet?” Lily stands in the doorway, looking straight at Spencer.

“Not yet sweetheart. I have some cookies in my bag, why don’t you go back to my desk and eat them, okay?”

“Can I have two?” The little girl holds up two of her tiny fingers, unaware of the confused glances from every adult in the room that isn’t Spencer.

“Of course, sweet pea. Whatever you want. You can even spin around in my chair!” The child nods before running back to Spencer’s desk. Spencer turns around to find all eyes on him. The entire team wears similar expressions of shock and awe.

“Spencie?” Derek questions the nickname.

“Sweetheart?” JJ’s more focused on how Spencer responded.

“Who the heck was that 'sweet pea’ and why have you kept her from me?” Garcia is glaring at Spencer for hiding such a cutie pie from her for however long.

“She’s why I’m here. Well not her, her mother. We’ve been dating for the last 9 months. I picked up Lily from school today. We were supposed to meet back at her apartment, but she never came home. She’s not answering my calls and I don’t know where she could be.” Spencer breaks down as he tries to explain what’s going on. He can’t imagine a world without you in it.

“Reid, give Garcia her phone number to track her location. This could all be related to our case. If someone is targeting the BAU, we will find them.” Hotch’s no nonsense tone calms everyone in the room. Again, movement in the doorway catches everyone’s attention.

“Sir, she keeps saying she can explain everything. I know you said 3 hours, but I think she’s ready now.”

“Thank you, Anderson. We’ll be right there.” The agent leaves without another word. Hotch turns back to continue filling Spencer in on the case. “Reid, we’ve got a suspect in custody. She doesn’t match the profile, but we think she knows something.”

“She mentioned a boyfriend in the car. He might know something too.” Morgan pipes in as well.

“I want to talk to her. If she knows where Y/N is, I have to talk to her.” Spencer is out of the room before anyone can stop him. He’s practically running across the bullpen to get to the interrogation room.

“Y/N?” Morgan questions to the agents left in the round table room.

You are so cold. They must have the air turned down to put you on edge. You have finally calmed yourself down enough to form actual sentences instead of useless mumbling.

“Please. Let me explain! I can tell you everything. Well, not everything, because I don’t know how my signature ended up on that paper, but I can tell you about JJ! And Henry! Let me explain!” You never thought about how weird it would be to know someone could be watching your every move. You feel like you’re talking to nobody as you beg for them to let you explain.

The door flies open with so much force, you fall out of your chair in shock. There are hands on you, pulling you to your feet before you’ve even registered hitting the ground.

“Where is sh- Y/N?” Spencer’s tone of voice changes so quickly your brain can’t follow. You just look into his before you burst into tears.

“Oh thank God. Spencer, I was so scared. I was so nervous when Derek and Rossi came to interview me. I didn’t want them to hate me, you know? Even though they didn’t know who I was. And then I saw JJ, and I got even worse. I mean, she’s your best friend! And she sounded so angry, which was my fault, but I couldn’t even form words to explain myself because I was so sure these people- the people you consider family- were going to hate me and I made everything so much worse. But I-” Spencer knows if he doesn’t cut you off, you’ll ramble endlessly. It’s always like that when you spend too much time alone. As if all the energy you could’ve spent talking to someone pours out of you all at once.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. We can explain everything. I’m so happy to see you. To know you’re okay. God, I love you too.” You turn your tear stained face to look up at him.

“Wha- oh my God. I said that. I didn’t even realize I said it. But it’s true. I love you so much. I can’t imagine a world without you. That’s why I was so nervous about meeting the team. And they wouldn’t let me call you, so I couldn’t ask you what to do.” The two of you continue trying to fill each other in on what has lead you to this moment.

Hotch and JJ make their way into the room without either of you noticing. They both sit down before either speaks. “Reid, I’m going to need you to leave the room.” Spencer turned around with you still in his arms, your head pulled tight to his chest. He glares at his boss before responding. “No. She didn’t do this. The dates from the case file you gave me, they don’t line up. April 17th, we watched the new episode of Doctor Who and spent the rest of the night discussing theories. April 20th, we went to dinner to celebrate Lily’s sixth birthday. April 22nd we watched Tangled with Lily until she fell asleep and then we…” He trailed off, turning a bright shade of pink. You wiggled in his arms, trying to hide the blush on your face as well.

“Spence, where’s Lily?” You know he needs to leave if you are ever actually going to get out of this room.

“She’s at my desk. She looked so tiny in my chair.” He practically has heart eyes as he thinks back to where he left your little girl.

“Why don’t you go tell her you found me? I’ll be okay.” You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes as you sit back down in the cold metal chair. Spencer looks as though he would rather read Twilight again than leave you, but he reluctantly walks out of the room.

You start rambling before the agents get a chance to ask you a question.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve probably wasted so much of your time. I just freaked out when I realized I was meeting Spence’s family. That’s why I know your son’s name.” You turn slightly to look at JJ. “He talks about him all the time, and he’s shown me pictures. I’m so so sorry that you had to worry about your child’s safety because of me. I was just nervous to meet you. That’s why I haven’t met you yet actually. Because I didn’t want Lily to get too attached if something happened and we broke up. Not that I can imagine breaking up with Spencer. I would spend the rest of my life with him if he gave me the chance.” You can feel the tears brimming again. “I really don’t know why my name is on that paper. I never would have signed it! My lab doesn’t use human tissues.” You try to stress that point.

“Ms. L/N, we believe you. We never thought you were responsible, but it was a suspicious situation. You can never be too careful in our line of work.” Hotch still looks extremely serious, but his tone is slightly more relaxed than when he threw you into this room.

“Of course. I would’ve thought I was guilty if I didn’t know the truth. Is there anything I can do to help?” You are so relieved to know they don’t think you’re a crazy murderer.

“We need to ask you a few questions about the people who work in your lab.”

“Oh. Okay.” You have to actively force yourself not to start rambling again.

“Do you know any of these people?” The agent shows you three pictures of young women. They couldn’t be more than 25.

“No…” You can’t put your finger on it, but they look familiar.

“But?” JJ encourages you to continue.

“I’m not sure. They look familiar for some reason.” All three women have brunette hair and green eyes. Their face shapes are even shockingly similar.

“Do you know anyone who looks like these women?” You don’t know how they know that, but you do. They’ve planted the seed, and it instantly grew into a massive oak.

“I do! Her name is Renee. Um... Renee Watkins. She works in the hospital, in the lab where they run blood tests.” You look at the agents with hope in your eyes. Maybe now they’ll let you leave. They both stand up without saying anything else. Hotch leaves first. JJ stares at you for a minute.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, you’re his best friend. If you hate me, we won’t work. He cares about all of you way too much for me to get in the way of that.” You honestly still feel awful about the unnecessary fear you’ve caused her and her family.

“He cares about you too. He’s been happier than I’ve seen him in years. I knew something was up, but I didn’t want to push him.” You can’t keep your smile off your face at her words. “Let’s forget about all of it. I’m just going to focus on the relief of knowing nobody is after my son.”

“Thank you. I really am so sorry though.” You feel the need to keep apologizing.

“Really, it’s fine. Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

JJ leads you back to the bullpen. Right as you turn the corner, you can spot Spence playing with Lily and Henry. He’s captivated their attention with a magic trick.

“He’s so good with them.” Almost involuntarily, your hand brushes over your stomach.

“He’s always wanted to be a father.” JJ eyes your hand before giving you a rather pointed look.

“Oh! No, I’m not pregnant.” You let your arm fall back to your side. “He’s just so good with Lily; she asked me if he could be her dad.” You can feel the tears coming again. “I just know that one day I will have that man’s babies.” JJ snorts and suddenly the two of you break out laughing. Your laughter makes enough noise to capture Spencer’s attention, two little pairs of eyes following his lead. All three of them are suddenly running across the room to you and JJ.

Lily jumps into your arms, much as Henry does to JJ. You pull her close, leaning into Spencer as his arms circle around you both. The moment is interrupted when Penelope Garcia comes running into the room.

“I’ve got him. Shane Harrison, 28. He dated Renee Watkins in high school. He was recently fired from his position in the human tissues lab at Children’s National Hospital. There are reports of him breaking in, although nothing was reported stolen due to falsified transfer documents.”

“What made him start killing?” Morgan asks while you and JJ desperately cover the children’s ears.

“Renee recently got engaged. She posted all about her new fiancée on social media. I already texted you the address.” JJ says a rushed goodbye to Will and the team is out the door. Lily runs back over Spencer’s desk with Henry so she can show him the Rubik’s cube.

“Aren’t you going to help them?” You turn to Spencer who hasn’t left your side.

“I think they can manage this one without me. I’m needed somewhere else at the moment.” As if to prove his point, he leans in to kiss you. It’s short and sweet and everything you needed at the moment.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls the two of you out of your bubble.

“Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia. I’m sure the Genius Doctor has told you all about me.”

“He has indeed. You’re even lovelier in person.” Garcia is just as bright and bubbly as Spencer described her. It makes you smile to think that the team has her never ending positivity while they are surrounded by so much darkness.

“We are having a team gathering at Rossi’s tomorrow night. You should both come. And Lily!” Garcia smiles again before walking away.

“You know that means we have to go, right?” Spencer asks you the obvious question.

“I know honey. You’re afraid of what Garcia could do to you if you get on her bad side.” You laugh at his pout, pulling him down the stairs and over to Lily. It’s about time you all head home.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #spencer #spencer reid one shot #mgg

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that��s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY

#bnha 317 #all might #midoriya izuku #and endeavor and hawks and mt. lady and all the rest of them I guess #literally forgot all about them by the end lol #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #this wound up so long lmao I'm so sorry

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y-so-hungry · 3 years

Text

Midnight Food For Thought

Beelzebub x MC

Ok I wasn't sure whether to write it as "MC did this, they did that" or "you did this, you did that" or even "I did this, I did that" for this fic, so I went with the first option, lemme know if you guys prefer it a different style (I don't mind any way) and I'll keep that in mind for if/when I write another one of these!

This wasn’t the first time MC had gone downstairs for a midnight snack and found Beel already in the kitchen, but this was the first time they’d seen him in demon form at this hour. They supposed that’s why they lingered just by the steps, watching rather than going in. Not that he was scary in this form, but they worried he was upset, and would rather not be bothered. Beel didn’t have his head in the fridge like usual, oddly enough he seemed to be making something. Usually he was too hungry and tired at night to cook, so it was rather odd to see him kneading dough.

What was odder than that was it seemed he didn’t actually have any other ingredients out, just flour and a cup of water next to him. MC watched for a couple more minutes as he continued making more and more of this dough, adding flour and water and flour and water over and over again until the ball of dough was as wide as a dinner plate. That seems to be when he ran out of flour.

He sighed an oddly miserable sigh, and MC watched in confusion as he took a handful of dough and started… eating it. And it was only when he sat down a second later that they actually caught sight of his face.

There were tears running down his cheeks.

“Beel?” they said, finally calling attention to themself. Beel snapped up, fear flashing through his violet eyes before he saw them. After that, all that showed on his face was a mixture of guilt and embarrassment, his face turning as red as his hair and eyes filling with even more tears.

“Beel?” MC repeated, making their way into the kitchen. “What’s wrong, why are you crying? And why are you just eating dough? I’m sure there’s something a lot better than that to eat.”

Beel looked down and took another bite of his pitiful midnight snack.

“There wasn’t,” he muttered.

“What? What do you mean?”

“There wasn’t anything else to eat,” he said, louder this time. “It was all gone, there was only a little bit of flour left. I-I didn’t know what else to do. I’m s-so hungry, I-I didn’t think I’d make it to Hell’s Kitchen before I passed out o-or something so I-I just--” he cut off with a tiny sob, raising a wrist to scrub at his eye.

“Oh Beel, I’m so sorry,” MC said, wrapping their arms around his shoulders and pulling his head to rest against them. His horns didn’t feel exactly comfortable against their ribcage, but they didn’t really care at the moment. “I could’ve sworn there was plenty of food earlier today--jeez I don’t know what happened to it all.” They gazed around at the now completely bare cupboards, feeling almost angry at them for being empty despite the fact it’s not actually their fault.

“There was food! I saw it! We must’ve eaten it all at dinner, I didn’t even go in the kitchen to make sure I’d have something for tonight,” Beel said. His stomach snarled right then, and he quickly shoved another handful of dough in his mouth, grimacing at the taste.

“There should be more, Lucifer always takes into account how much you need to eat--wait, who went shopping this week?” MC asked.

“Mammon,” Beel growled. “He probably spent half the money on some sale and didn’t get enough food.”

“Goddammit Mammon,” MC said, pinching their brow and squeezing their eyes shut. I’ll have to beat him up later, they thought. Snag his credit card, buy poor Beel all the cheeseburgers he wants. They opened their eyes to see the hungry demon was already halfway through his tiny meal, more tears coursing down his face as he watched his food disappear.

“Hey,” they said softly, cupping his cheek and tilting his head up so he could meet their eyes. “We’re gonna go get you something to eat, okay? Something real, not just sticky dough. We’re gonna go to Hell’s Kitchen and you’ll end up so full your shirt doesn’t fit right, how does that sound?”

The rumble that sounded from Beel’s stomach at the suggestion seemed to be rather painful; he wrapped both his arms tightly around his belly, curling in on himself with gritted teeth and a small whimper.

“Oh Beel,” MC murmured, running a hand through his flaming hair. They gently pulled his arms until he stood up, still clutching his grumbling belly. They quickly grabbed his glob of dough still on the table and handed it to him, hoping it would be enough to tide him over until they both got to Hell’s Kitchen.

~~~

MC called the restaurant on the way, letting them know the situation, so despite the fact that it was a rather busy night at Hell’s Kitchen, they were seated quickly, and in a quiet, secluded area of the restaurant. Beel asked for his usual, a large plate of burgers, and said he’d give MC a few. He always seemed to forget that MC didn’t need ten whole burgers to feel full, but they appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Beel’s dough was long gone now, and he kept pressing his fingers deep into his stomach, it’s rumbles only growing louder with time. Besides his belly though, Beel himself was rather quiet, staring down at the empty table with his eyes unfocused and far away.

“You okay, Beel?” MC asked. They felt a little stupid as soon as they said it; it’s quite clear that he’s not okay. But he blinked and glanced at them, seeming to understand what they meant.

“I just… really hate when this happens,” he muttered. “I get all wound up and upset, and now everyone gets to see the Avatar of Gluttony being an idiot and crying because he didn’t have enough of his stupid snacks.”

His face was screwed up now, anger and disgust warping his features into an expression MC wasn’t sure they’d ever seen on him before. They’d never seen him so repulsed, not even when he found out about Lucifer trapping Belphie in the attic.

“Beel, you shouldn’t say such mean things about yourself. You’re not being an idiot, and your snacks aren’t stupid, you need them, and that’s okay. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about this, it’s not your fault,” MC said, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently. But his words were still bitter when he answered.

“I bet none of my brothers ever cry about their sins. Why can’t I just be like that? Why do I have to burst into tears if I miss breakfast in the morning, or if someone eats the rest of something I saved for later? Why can’t I just calm down?” Beel muttered, wrapping his arms more protectively over his belly. His shoulders and legs were tensed up so hard MC wondered if it hurt, he looked like he was trying to curl in on himself. Even his wings were wrapped around him, all in an attempt to protect his middle. His muscles bunched even tighter as his stomach gave another pitiful grumble, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

MC sighed and reached over, pulling at one of his arms curled around him until he moved it away with a questioning glance at them. They moved their own hand in to replace his, pressing their palm to his belly. They could feel it rumbling continuously against their hand, and they began rubbing gentle circles into his middle, loosening the knots of pain as best they could. Beel almost instantly relaxed, melting against the cushions of the booth. The grumblings of his belly didn’t stop, but they didn’t seem to be as painful as before.

“Your brothers do cry, you know,” MC said. “Sometimes about their sins, sometimes about other things, just like you.” Beel looked up at them, his eyebrows raised.

“Really?” he said. MC nodded, shifting closer to massage deeper into his middle. He relaxed further, leaning his head back with a small sigh.

“They do,” they said. “Yours I think is the worst of them to be honest. It causes you physical pain, and affects you more often and worse I think than the others. But that doesn’t mean their sins don’t hurt them.”

Beel scoffed, looking away from MC and down at the empty table again.

“What could Mammon possibly be crying about?” Beel snarled. “Getting his credit card taken away?”

“Well… yeah,” MC said. “Mammon can’t control his want for things. It’s a bit like if someone took food away from you. Not quite the same since that would actually hurt you, but it still upsets him. And I mean… He doesn’t actually like how greedy he is. He knows it can hurt people, he just can’t really stop. And that makes him sad.”

“…He actually feels bad about that stuff? I always thought he didn’t care,” Beel said.

“He does,” MC said. “It’s the same with your other brothers. Lucifer is so prideful that when he messes up even a little it can send him spiralling. Levi, his envy can get so intense he feels like he’s all alone in the universe. He gets so jealous of other people that it can blind him to what he has. Satan gets so angry sometimes that he starts crying out of rage. Asmo cries because he feels so much love for people that it hurts to see them in pain. That and of course he gets angry at himself for being so vain. And I’m sure you’ve seen how upset Belphie can get when he hasn’t slept. I've seen him go to bed with tears running down his face after a whole day with no rest.”

“I have too,” Beel said solemnly. “I used to hug him when he couldn’t sleep after Lilith died. Even when I got hungry in the middle of the night, I’d hold him until he fell asleep. …Though I think sometimes he’d pretend to be asleep when he heard my stomach, that way I would go downstairs to get something. He always worried that I didn’t eat enough.”

His stomach growled pointedly right then, loud enough that Beel actually looked down at his belly in surprise before wincing in pain. Those chefs are really taking their sweet time getting his food here.

“Well he had reason to,” MC said, rubbing deep, soothing circles into the place where it seemed to hurt most. “Basically my point is that you’re not the only one who struggles with their sin. I think you struggle the most, but you’re not an idiot for crying over something that hurts.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I never knew my brothers got upset about that kinda stuff,” Beel said, and he shifted closer to them, laying his cheek on their head for a moment and careful to avoid hitting them with his horns. “Thanks for coming with me, MC. You’re the best.”

His words were simple but they made MC’s heart swell with happiness. They were so happy actually, that they may have lost focus and pressed a little too deep into Beel’s stomach. MC only realized this after he grimaced and stiffened up, a loud growl erupting from his middle, the hungry rumbles shaking their fingers before tapering off.

MC opened their mouth to apologize, but Beel was already waving it off with a miserable glance at his stomach.

“Don’t even, it’s not your fault,” he said. “I’m starving. It’s just so empty now, it feels like it’s trying to eat itself. The chefs must be really understaffed today or something, they usually have my food out by now.”

Not a second after he said that though, the rich, thick smell of a variety of foods suddenly got a lot stronger as several people made their way to MC and Beel’s booth. They were waiters, about ten in all, each carrying at least two platters piled high with food, if not more. MC could see burgers, fries, pizza, sushi, and then it seems for dessert they had platters full of Wicked Cupcakes and apple pie.

At the sight of the food MC was reminded that the whole reason they even found Beel eating dough in the kitchen was because they’d been craving a midnight snack, and their own middle shifted hungrily as they gazed at the platters. Their stomach had nothing on Beel’s though, which gave a long, desperate rumble under MC’s hand. He even put his hand over theirs, pressing it deeper into his belly in an attempt to soothe his hunger.

“Sorry for the wait,” one of the waiters said, giving a small chuckle at the look of surprise and desire on Beel’s face. “We wanted to bring it out all at once as a surprise!”

“Well you definitely surprised me,” Beel said, eyes wide as they set down the food in front of him, swallowing thickly at the scent of the burgers only a foot away. But suddenly he got a rather sad look on his face, and he squeezed his eyes closed. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t take all this, Lucifer would kill me if I bought this much food at once--”

“Beel, you misunderstand, it’s on the house!” a curly haired waiter said, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder after setting down a platter of apple pie.

“What?” Beel said, his eyes flicking open again, but staring at the waiter instead this time. “Why?”

“MC told us what happened,” the waiter answered. “And when you came in here you looked so upset, we wanted to do something special for you. You’re our oldest customer here, you were here buying food back when Hell’s Kitchen was small and struggling to stay open.”

“I remember when you found out we were on the edge of going out of business you bought all your meals here for weeks until business picked up again so we could keep everything afloat,” another waiter chimed in.

“And you’ve brought your brothers here for every birthday you’ve had since we opened,” said someone else.

“You’ve been here for us for years, Beel,” the curly haired waiter said. “We figured it was time we tried to pay you back.”

Beel stared at the waiters gathered around him for a moment, his mouth open but with no sound coming out.

“Thank you,” he said eventually. “Thank you, that… that means a lot.” He looked down, his face turning red as his voice cracked with emotion. Several waiters made noises of sympathy or an understanding chuckle, before they all suddenly gathered around the back of the booth, reaching forward to wrap their arms around Beel. MC laughed at the awkwardness of everyone pressed around them, but they could tell Beel was enjoying the affection immensely, a small smile widening on his face, a soft blush in his cheeks.

However, his belly had other plans.

A loud rumble suddenly sounded from Beel’s stomach, sounding quite empty, and desperate for the food in front of it. MC could feel his stomach shaking under their hand, and it was certain that anyone who’s arms or hands were near his belly could feel it too.

“Aww, Beel!”

“Your poor belly!”

“Jeez, you’re really empty aren’t you?”

“Poor thing!”

If it was possible Beel turned even redder, laughing a little nervously as MC patted his belly sympathetically.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m starving.”

“No shit,” said the curly haired waiter with a laugh. “We’ll leave you and MC to your food. You fill up, let us know if you need anything, alright?” Beel nodded, waving goodbye to the waiters as they returned to their jobs.

“Wow,” he whispered, staring at all the food. “I… fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” He sounded overwhelmed, but in a delighted, eager way. His belly gurgled excitedly, and he quickly reached out, grabbing the first thing his fingers touched, which happened to be a burger. He ate half of it in one bite.

“Mmmmf,” he said, letting his head fall back against the cushion as he chewed. When he swallowed MC could feel his stomach immediately start to churn and contract, breaking down the food rapidly. It seemed quite happy to finally have something to digest.

“Feel better?” they said with a small laugh as he shoved the rest of the burger in his mouth. Beel just nodded, a deep sigh escaping him after he swallowed. It was in that relaxed, blissful moment that Beel’s form changed, his horns and wings retracting, his clothes shifting from the leather of his demon form back to his soft pajamas he’d gone to bed in.

“Much better,” he said. He reached for a slice of pizza next, folding it in his fingers so the whole thing would fit in his mouth easier. He looked a bit like a chipmunk now, and MC laughed at the way his cheeks puffed out.

“How the hell do you fit all that in your mouth?” they said. Beel swallowed, with a bit of difficulty it seems, but his eyes were bright when he answered.

“Lots of practice,” he said. “Chubby Bunny was my favorite game when I was little. I always won, even with Mammon stuffing bunnies in his mouth like a maniac.”

“…Human world Chubby Bunny is very different from Devildom Chubby Bunny.”

Beel laughed, grabbing a plate of sushi and ignoring the chopsticks, instead just picking it up with his fingers and popping the roll in his mouth. Then he suddenly looked down at MC, glancing from their eyes to their hand still rubbing his stomach, and back.

“Do… you want me to stop?” they asked, a little confused.

“Huh? Oh, no, well, I mean--Weren’t you hungry?” he said, pushing another roll of sushi in his mouth. “You came to the kitchen because you were hungry, right? Here, you like apple pie, right?” Beel pushed the large platter of pie slices over to them, looking expectantly from MC to the pie and back. They smiled and thanked him, transferring a slice to their plate and starting to eat. When MC took the first bite he beamed in approval before continuing to eat his own food.

For a while there was silence, each of them too focused on their food to talk much, but after finishing their second slice of pie MC was starting to feel a bit sleepy again. They turned to Beel, wondering if he wanted to box up the rest of his food and eat it at home, but when they actually saw him, that was no longer at the forefront of their mind.

Beel had actually stopped eating, though not because he’d run out of food, in fact there were a few platters still untouched. No, Beel had stopped eating because there was a significant swell in his middle that definitely hadn’t been there before. His stomach was so full it had begun to press against his shirt, making it look a bit smaller than it was supposed to. He looked up at MC after a moment, hands over his stomach, and a sleepy little smile on his face.

“Think ‘m full now,” he said. “You weren’t lying when you said I’d be so full my shirt doesn’t fit right.” MC laughed, reaching over to press their hand into his belly again. It was still grumbling, but it was in a muffled, happy way now. They weren’t sharp noises, more soft and low, almost like the sound of a kitten purring.

“You sure sound full,” they said, massaging slow circles into his stomach. “You wanna head home? We can get boxes for the rest of your food, we can eat it for breakfast tomorrow.”

Beel nodded, but suddenly leaned over, pressing his cheek to the top of their head.

“Thanks for coming here with me. An’ for rubbing m’ tummy. That felt really nice, even when I was hungry,” he mumbled into their hair. MC laughed and patted his swollen middle.

“Well tell you what, when we get home I’ll rub your tummy all you want, how bout that?” they said. Beel made a small noise of delight and wrapped his arms around them in a tight hug.

It was the best hug they’d ever gotten in their life.

#hunger #hunger kink #stuffing #belly kink #belly rubs #starving to stuffed #obey me beelzebub #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #beelzebub x mc #Y's writing

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imissthembutitwasntadisaster · 2 years

Text

O’er All The Weary World: Extracts From a Diary

February 7

It’s weird, the things that survive the apocalypse. The building had been torn apart before we got there, ransacked by scavengers I assume, but this notebook’s fine, and I even found some pencils. I’m not really sure why I’m writing all this, but I guess it’s something to do. None of the old stories about the end of the world ever mentioned the boredom. Although I suppose being bored is better than a few months ago when everything was really falling apart. No one could accuse that of being dull. Just frightening.

News doesn’t travel at all anymore really, but we know people are still dying. Mark and I have been avoiding cities mostly because of that, although there’s better food there. He’s trying to learn how to hunt; the animals may be dying too but they seem to be doing better than us. There are still deer around. That’s something at least. He’s not very good at it though, and we don’t have any guns or knives or anything. We’re trying to make traps but ugh it’s going so badly, I don’t know how much longer we can do this. It’s still too cold for anything to grow, if we don’t warm up soon it’ll be the end for us. Or more of the end than it’s already been.

Mark and the baby are asleep, thank heavens. We still haven’t named her, Mark was right to suggest we hold off in case she dies. This isn��t any life to raise a baby in. Still, it’s been a month and she’s still here, and she’s surprisingly healthy. Maybe she’s here to stay. There are a lot of good names out there, why not give her one to hold on to?

I’ve been thinking we call her Eve. I’ll talk to Mark about it in the morning.

February 21

The food we found at our last town search ran out two days ago. We haven’t been able to catch or find anything else. I can’t say I’m surprised. Or upset even, I knew this would happen eventually. It’s the apocalypse, who are we to survive? Silly little city couple.

Eve is crying. She’s just as hungry as me and Mark. I wish she wouldn’t. I want someone else to find this diary, maybe write in it, but no one will do that. Who could do that? Who’d be left to do that?

February 23

We’re walking to find Mark’s sister Sarah, but really we’re walking because there’s nothing better to do, and I’m writing because there’s nothing better to do while walking.

That’s basically illegible isn’t it. It doesn’t really matter.

A lot of people are walking.

We stopped at a house two evenings ago, the rest of what used to be a suburb was abandoned but there was one family left there, a family and some random kids they had picked up. I collapsed in the doorway. I can’t remember much of what happened but they had food somehow and a torn mattress and I woke up that evening not dead, which to be perfectly honest I hadn’t expected.

The house was warm, they had covered up holes in the walls with old blankets and there were a lot of people all crammed together. One of the kids, Oswin I think his name was, told us all stories to fill the evening. He had a whole bunch of them stored up in his head, one of the little girls told us, and he’d tell you any if you asked. She looked happy, happier than I’ve seen anyone look since it all started. Maybe the kid’s stories are really that good.

There was one I liked, about two sisters. One of them vanished, stolen by an evil king, and the other had to go and find her.

I miss Mary. I don’t know if she’s dead. She probably is. When we were little I was the only person who could understand her, I had to translate for our parents. Now even if she is alive I’ll never see her again, Delhi could be the moon and it would be easier. At least if she were on the moon I’d be able to see her every night but I can’t and I don’t know if she’s alright and you know what sometimes I just can’t bear it, sometimes I think it would be easier to just stop, not even to do anything drastic, just to stop moving, stop looking for food, stop walking because I can’t do this anymo

Evie woke up hungry and I had to feed her. I wonder if she’ll be as happy as the girl in the house. Even after everything. I’ll tell her the story about the sisters, I think. That’s something at least. I think she likes stories.

March 13

There’s news being passed around about camps setting up in big old buildings, shopping malls and hospitals and service stations. Places for people to settle down in, at least for a while. We haven’t run across any but we’d like to. Mark’s shoes are falling all apart and his feet are getting cut up, we need to find something better.

Oh, but this is something! About a week ago we met a woman who was travelling our way, so we joined up for a little while. She taught us how to set real traps and how to skin some of the animals around here, and she gave us a flint and steel because she had two and our matches ran out a week ago and she said we needed to be able to make a fire. Yesterday she branched off from us saying she was headed east. We could have gone with her, but Sarah should still be south, at least that’s where she was living last, so south we’re still going.

But! we made a trap today and we caught a rabbit! We’ve just been living off what we’ve found in old buildings before, this is the first time we caught anything, so it’s really exciting. And we skinned it and we took out all the insides and we’re cooking it now over a fire. Evie’s laughing and clapping her hands, she loves fire, and Mark looks much less tired now he’s off his feet, and I certainly am, I feel better than I have in days.

Her name was Iosune, and I hope she finds her son.

May 2

Attacked on the road, Mark injured, probably dying, lost so much blood, God God God what do I do

May 3

Mark unconscious I can’t move him God knows why I’m wasting time writing this

May 4

We lost all our food to whoever it was who attacked us. Mark couldn’t move, broken leg and ribs, deep lacerations.

Earlier today a foraging party found us. Their camp is in an old hospital, they took us there, I’m sitting outside the doctors’ room now.

Another woman took Evie, promised she’d feed her and take good care of her, so I’ve been left alone. I don’t know how to feel about the rescue to be honest, if Mark dies then maybe it would have been best for me and Evie to also

Absolutely not we are not thinking like that. It is better for Evie to live. And I need to make sure she does.

May 5

Mark stable but unconscious. The people here are kind. Except for the doctors’ assistant. She’s kind of a bitch.

May 6

Mark has woken up, and the doctors (there are two of them here) say he’s going to be ok. He’s eaten something, and he’s still really pale but he held Evie and he talked to me so that’s something at least. He’s asleep right now, holding my hand, so I’m trying to keep still while writing this so as not to wake him.

I really thought he was gone. I thought everyone was gone, I thought everyone would be gone. I thought we would all be dead by now. Maybe we were meant to be.

But we’re not.

June 27

Honestly there are days when I wish we stayed at the hospital. I know we’re still trying to find Sarah, but the road is long and hard and life was much more stable there, doesn’t matter how little time we spent staying.

I’m writing this while we walk, Evie’s on Mark’s shoulders. It’s warm but not too hot, right in the middle of summer, so that’s something at least. The trees are good shade as well. Sometimes I can’t believe there are still trees, but there are and they’re wider this year than they were the last. Can you imagine?

July 10

It’s my birthday. I only realised this afternoon. Last birthday I had a party, all lights and champagne and friends. All my friends. And Evie was barely showing. Perhaps my friends are still alive. I hope they are. I hope they’re doing as well as they can. And Mary, Mary has to still be alive, and the doctors at the hospital, and everyone there, and Iosune, and that family with all the adopted children, and the old man we met on the road who gave us shoes for Mark because he had picked up a spare pair and the young couple we passed who sang to each other to keep up their spirits and the group of teenagers with that massive dog who loved Evie so much. I believe they’re alive. I believe they’re well.

Mark and Evie sang happy birthday to me, or at least Evie babbled along. The evening was warm and we had food. It was a good day.

September 13

It’s getting colder, and we still aren’t near where Sarah used to live. I think we’re lost. Even Evie is cranky. We haven’t given up though. That’s something at least. And it’s not raining.

November 26

It’s snowing.

I suppose I should be worried. It’s making everything wet (and heaven knows it’s hard to keep things dry even when it’s sunny), and it’s freezing and I have no idea how we’re going to keep Evie bundled up enough. But somehow I can’t be worried. She’s never seen snow before, and she won’t stop staring at it or trying to catch it. It looks soft. It feels soft too. Mark almost made a snowball before giving up half-way through, looking sheepish, like he was acting without thinking.

I’m gonna throw one at him.

November 26 – Evening

Evie’s first snowball fight is something, I suppose. And that’s what we’re living on right now, somethings.

November 28

We’re staying in Sarah’s old almost-not-quite-dead suburb, only a few houses still lived in. She’s gone, but one of the men says he saw her leave, so she may not be dead. No children here, so everyone’s fussing over Evie like she’s the world’s saviour. An old man saw how red my hands were as I passed her to him to hold, and gave me an ancient pair of knitted mittens, all dirty and frayed.

I made an excuse and ran away to cry, I’m afraid. I’m still crying, Mark’s with the baby and I’m hiding at the back of a house writing this.

I honestly can’t remember when I last cried. There’s not much time for it during the apocalypse, funnily enough.

They’re not even very good mittens.

They’re green, I think, underneath the grime.

I’ve got to be getting back, they were cooking something over the fire (a lot of animals have started wandering back into the cities, everyone’s gotten good at hunting). It smells good, even from here.

December 2

They’re singing.

We heard from the last group of people about a camp in an old service station where Sarah might be, there were rumours of it anyway, so we set out. We’re definitely getting close to something, we can’t see any buildings but the wind is coming from before us and there’s this sound on it, and I couldn’t figure out what it was until I did. I think they’re singing. I think it’s hymns, advent songs. Dispel the shadows of the night. Rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing. Last winter I didn’t even think about Christmas, we had lost too many people to celebrate anything and being heavily pregnant in the apocalypse is not a good state. We were all just waiting to die and Christmas seemed out of place for that.

The singing’s getting louder as we get closer. Mark’s carrying Evie (and on a side note, look at how good I’ve gotten at writing while I walk! I can actually read my own writing now! Maybe in a few years Evie will be able to read it too). They’re listening as well, he’s humming along quietly. I haven’t heard these songs in so long. Let us find our rest in thee. I can’t believe I recognized them, I can’t believe they’re still being sung.

Mark just started, almost shouting out the melodies. He hasn’t sung in a year, I just realised. He used to sing all the time. He sounds different than I remembered, he sounds better. We can see the top of the camp on the horizon, or I hope that’s what it is, we’re just following the music now really. I’ve heard stories of how awful life is in some of these places, but how awful can it really be if they get to sing? We’ll only know when we get there, I suppose. All we can do is hope.

The hopes and fears of all the years.

I guess it’s Christmas.

@inklings-challenge for the Inklings Christmas Challenge

This story is part of my End of the World series.

#writing #my writing #this is called spot the references to other stories in my end of theworld series #but this time it ends with CHRISTMAS #alternate name was Dona Eis Requiem #sister stories

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bombyxluna · 4 years

Note

Hewo! I’m not sure if ur taking requests, but I have one fo ye. How would the brothers +the undateables react to mc (somehow) being turned into a toddler? I just thought of this, idk y, just did.

This one is so cute anon, and I was so happy to write it! Thank you for the adorable request, I think I’ll post a follow up to it: MC taking care of the brothers and the undatables if they become toddlers!

PS: I don’t think Satan was ever actually a toddler or a child or something, but I felt like it works for this hc because it’s funny jahsjhjsha

Brothers + undatables react to: MC turning into a toddler

Lucifer

He just knows Diavolo is behind this. what did he even do this time? Pick up on some old magic again? Try to shake things up so everyone gets along? Ask Barbatos to go back in time and pick up you as an actual toddler, just for the lolz? He doesn’t know and he doesn’t have time to care because toddlers are a handful and you’ve tried eating his quill three times now and he is panicking. Hard. He puts the quill and the pen on top of a shelf and when he turns around, you’re gone. He sighs, looking for you on every corner of the office, just to find you hiding behind the curtain. When he finds you, you scream and start running.

Oh, how he doesn’t miss the days Satan was like this. At least you are way less fussy than he was. As he watches you hide behind the couch, however, he can’t contain his smile nor the silly monster voice he makes as he announces he’s coming to find you. He manages to catch you this time and pretends to eat your arm with his hands, making exaggerated chomping sounds. On the third time you hide, though, he has to be honest: he’d take Satan’s mini developed anger over your climbing skills any day. How did you even get on top of the shelf? He blinked. That’s all he did. He blinked. And now his quill is in danger again.

He is completely spent at the end of the day. He hasn’t felt so tired since Diavolo decided changing the color of every single lamppost in the Devildom would be good for “morale” and he had to do the paperwork. He ends up dozing off holding you. When he wakes up to find that little project of human being cuddling to his neck, he smiles to himself. Sure, he’s worried about what happened, but maybe he can enjoy this for a bit more.

Mammon

No one knows who’s screaming anymore: if it’s you or him. It’s probably both - it’s definitely both. He thinks the witches got to you or something, and he is going nuts, not only because what the fuck why are you like so small now and how is he supposed to take care of you?

He ends up staying home instead of going out as he planned. Mostly because you refuse to leave his room and keep hiding under his car and in every corner you can find when he tries to get you to leave with him. Once he starts pretending he can’t see you and you giggle and run away from him, he melts a little inside. You play peek-a-boo for a while, but he gets worried easily. His room isn’t exactly the most childproof place in the house, so he takes you to the living room instead - to his surprise, you have no complaints about that.

As the day progresses he somehow gets the hang of taking care of a toddler again. Satan had been a handful but he was much calmer than you were when it comes to playing or tantrums (though if he is honest, Satan’s tantrums were terrifying). He finds an old coloring book in one of the many bookshelves around the house and steals Asmo’s markers for you to play with. You make him sit down to color with you, and he does. The rest of the day is spent with him listening to your made-up stories about the characters in the book. By the time dinner is ready, you’re already tired, and he has to carry you downstairs in a piggyback ride - he complains about it but in reality, he’s having the time of his life.

Levi

Honestly what the fuck. He has read about this in manga before but what the fuck. Couldn’t you have turned into something easier to deal with? A cat? A lobster? Anything else?

He doesn’t know what to do. Giving you an unplugged controller for his video game did not work as planned. You got tired of it easily and whenever he tried to ignore your whining, you’d cry. He thinks about taking you to someone more cut out for this - he remembers mammon being good with children and Beel too, but his envious side doesn’t want to lose to his brothers.

so he’s stuck with you. somehow he manages to kee you away from his figurines, giving his Ruri-chan plushies to play with instead. He has to admit you’re cute but by the end of the day, he is grateful it is over. As it turns out, he finds out he’s not ready to have children just yet, but maybe in the future?

Satan

He doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. After all, this is a side effect of the book he lent you. He thought you had read all the rules before giving it back to him, but it seems that you didn’t - rookie mistake really.

He feels somewhat guilty about it though, so he does his best to take care of you during the day. He’s a little awkward and unsure of how to engage in your plays, but he does his best. Ignoring his brother’s snarky comments over it being his turn to take care of a baby, he just takes you to his room so he can keep a closer eye on you. You end up asking him if he could read you a story and he breathes in relief - that he can do.

It turns out he can’t. He doesn’t have any books that would be appropriate for children, so he resorts to the internet instead - thank Diavolo for how useful DDDs are sometimes. He finds a small book about a little girl in a red hood, the parts with the big bad wolf seem to scare you, but he lets you cling to his arm and hide your face on his side. At the end of the day, he is okay. The day went by as peaceful as possible, and you both had enjoyed the story. For the entire following week, he finds himself wondering what it would be like to have a child of his own.

Asmodeus

He holds you in his lap as he dials the phone. “Solomon what the fuck did you do”. He didn’t do anything, no one really knows what happened, it’s a mess. Asmo doesn’t care much about it though, because you’re a little cuddle bug and he is happy to give you all the smooches and put a bunch of cute bows on your hair.

He manages to keep you calm the whole day. You don’t even have time to think of throwing a tantrum, because he already has a next activity planned to entertain you. he lets you do his hair as well, lets you paint his nails, and takes so many pictures of you in thousands of different outfits you get a little dizzy about it. He is by far the most careful when handling you and you have a joyful day in the safest environment possible. He lets you take a bubble bath and even if he’s in constant fear of the water being too hot or too cold or you drowning, he powers through.

He watches cartoons with you when you’re getting sleepy because it’s a more quiet activity. He even teaches you how to tidy up the room and you both go downstairs for dinner wearing matching outfits. When the magic (curse? who knows) wears off and you’re back to being a grown-up, he is pouty. He shows you all the pictures he takes and says you’re the cutest toddler he’s ever seen - satan is a little offended by that.

Beelzebub

This is unusual. You are much smaller than you normally are. He doesn’t really know how to act when you climb on his lap and push your tiny hands on his cheeks, but he laughs. He ends up taking you to the kitchen with him since it’s his favorite room in the house.

He keeps you away from the stove at all times, but is willing to let you participate in the cooking process - it’s his turn to make dinner after all. He starts by making cookies for a snack, then another batch of cookies for dessert. Then a final batch because he ate the ones supposed to go for dessert. He melts every time you giggle at his antics, and when you end up with chocolate smeared all over your cheeks, he can’t resist taking a picture and showing to his brothers.

He is careful when handling you because you’re so tiny now he’s even more scared of accidentally hurting you. He ends up caging you in his arms whenever you get too close to the edge of the kitchen counter, and then just giving you a piggyback ride throughout the entire house while you wait for dinner to cook. When the day is over he isn’t sad because you’re back to normal, but he is happy that he got to enjoy a day with you - he likes children a lot.

Belphegor

Well, this is inconvenient, to say the least. you’re staring back at him with huge questioning eyes and to be honest, all he wanted was to sleep. He picks you up nonetheless and sets you down on top of his pillow. Though he tries, talking to you about the importance of naps has zero to none effect on your antics. Instead, you pick up another of his many pillows and hit him with it, screaming about a pillow fight.

He chuckles, yawns, and picks up a pillow as well. Maybe this will tire you down enough for the nap conversation to make a comeback. It doesn’t work. You just got more excited and hyper. He played himself.

He thinks about leaving you with Beel but he’s making dinner and lord knows how weirdly focused he gets. leaving you with Levi or Mammon isn’t an option either, and he’d prefer to avoid Lucifer whenever it’s possible. He has no idea where satan or asmo are, so truly, he is stuck. He whines about it to you, and to his surprise, you hug him, asking if his booboo is better. He chuckles again. maybe this won’t be so bad.

Diavolo

“Barbatos look at this.”

“Barbatos, MC is tiny now isn’t it wonderful?”

“Barbatos, look at how cute they are - cancel all my plans I’ll spend the day with tiny MC.”

You’re not sure what’s going on but Diavolo is fun to play with so who cares? He indulges in all of your makeshift stories and he doesn’t care if you climb his furniture and go wild. He laughs with you, picking you up and making airplane noises as you “fly” around the castle. He is ecstatic.

He encharges Barbatos with the mission of taking pictures of the two of you playing together and being silly. He never had many opportunities to be around children so he will cherish this to the last minute. You play house, play with legos Barbatos has no idea where Diavolo found, walk around the Devildom together to look at the flowers. The students of RAD are confused because ?? No one knew the prince had a child wtf??? He thinks it’s cute that you’ve been labeled his kid so he goes with it, introducing you as the future ruler of the Devildom. Barbatos warns him it might be a bad idea, but he is sure is nothing Lucifer can’t handle.

Barbatos

He is calm. This isn’t anywhere different from the situations you have to deal with when you can time travel, and nowhere near as stressful as babysitting being the butler for the demon prince is. He handles you with care, but he is not too attached and doesn’t participate much in your plays.

He does answer all your questions and allows you to tag along wherever he goes. Patient as ever, he will explain what every single object you point to is. At some point, somehow he is roped into picking you up because you got tired of walking around the castle. Your hands go directly to his hair, playing with the skeleton wings coming out of his head. He doesn’t mind it, only explains to you what they are and let you try to make them expand and close.

When you find out he has a tail, he doesn’t mind letting you hug it and touch it. Your curious eyes are adorable and at least it keeps you distracted. When you giggle as he picks you up with it, he thinks maybe he should have filmed that to show Diavolo later, he’s sure he’d appreciate it. He gives you a small plastic tray they have laying around in the kitchen because you want to be like him and carry your own tea - it’s actually juice. Overall, it’s a nice change of pace from his usual days.

Solomon

Whatever magic this is, it’s weirdly insistent in staying put. He tries making you turn back but ends up giving up because he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you in any way. He is not the best with children but he does what he can, keeping you away from his room and all his potions as soon as he realizes you’re stuck like this for the time being.

He ends up taking you to one of the gardens around RAD. He entertains you by making the flowers dance with his magic, and giving you butterfly wings - though making you come down from the tree once you flew over there proves that to be a dumb idea. He sends a bunch of pictures and videos of you to Asmo, who is now in urgent mode and willing his class to end as fast as possible so he can hang out with you as well.

He gives you ice cream and chats with you about your favorite cartoons - being human has its perks, he knows them all by heart. He even sings some of the opening themes with you. When you start to get too tired, the games on his human phone solve all the issues. Sure, DDDs are great and all, but despite it not working on the Devildom, a human phone has its advantages.

Simeon

He is used to this. He is always near the younger angels in the Celestial realm so it’s really no surprise that he is so good at handling you. He doesn’t understand how you got turned into a toddler, but he will protect and take care of you until you return to normal. He has many ideas on how to keep you happy, and they all work. Collages? He will get you magazines. Drawing? He has multi-colored markers at your service. Hungry? He knows the recipe to the perfect pancakes - and you can decorate them yourself.

You don’t cry or throw a tantrum once under his care. he is delicate when dealing with you, and always listens to all your stories and complaints, comments on them and offers easy solutions. He doesn’t understand some of the references - who is Hello Kitty and why on heaven does she have no mouth? But he does his best to engage with you.

By the end of the day, he has issued Solomon’s help on finding out how to properly work his phone camera, if only to film a little bit of you and Luke playing together. he is glad you’re okay when you turn back to normal, but he confesses he enjoyed taking care of you all day.

bonus:

Luke

“There can only be one”, he says before he charges at you with a foam sword. It makes no effect but Simeon has never been more confused.

He ends up enjoying being able to boss you around and act like an older brother, telling you to color inside the lines and about the proper colors of the sky and the sea. He doesn’t understand what’s so cute about the two of you playing that Simeon just has to take a picture, but he lets him do it anyway.

He complains when you’re back to normal because he was truly enjoying not being the only child anymore.

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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part III

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so.

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored.

He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status.

Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy.

He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

“What do you mean?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

“Are you calling him a predator?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

“A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

“Even him perving on you?”

“Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do.

“A little.”

You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

“Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.”

You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

“Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

“Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

“It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

“That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

“Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?"

All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

Fuck yes. Half the battle is won.

“Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

You snort. “Try again.”

“Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

“Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

“I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

“Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

“Holy shit.”

Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

“I guess.”

This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable.

These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group.

It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands.

“Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped."

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.

Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

“Ah, of course he did.”

Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks.

“Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.

“Glad to hear it.”

The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit.

“You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

“Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

“That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

“Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before.

It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game.

You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom.

“You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

“It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

“Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience.

He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire.

You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick.

“Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs.

“Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

“Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

He chuckles, “You know it.”

Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head.

“You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

“I have a refractory period, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower.

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality.

The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well.

But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

“I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time.

He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

“So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

“I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him.

You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time.

“No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things.

Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips.

“We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible.

It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

“Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning.

Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall.

“Is Erwin here?” You ask.

Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before.

“Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“You know which one it is?”

Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

“Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

“Studying?” You question.

“Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did).

“Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move.

“So, what’s going on?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks.

“You need to make up with Mike.”

Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

“Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

“Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

“Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he smirks.

You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

“So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds.

You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil.

In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls.

Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did.

“You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate.

Are you calling him a predator?

He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea.

“You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

“Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response.

But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

And, so you do.

"Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

"So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.

"I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

"I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

"Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick.

"You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up.

"No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare.

And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike.

Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?"

"Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours.

Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you.

Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

"No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

"Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?"

"I… I don't know. You just—"

"Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

"Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic.

"Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt.

"Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

"Yeah, okay," he nods.

You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess.

Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from.

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him.

"What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows.

"Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to.

Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike.

Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

And, of course, Mike is too smart for that.

"Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

"I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night.

Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?"

The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin.

Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to.

Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out.

"I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him.

He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college.

The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this.

"Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him.

You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing.

"Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks."

"What're your plans?"

You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek.

When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort.

And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

"Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

"Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind.

Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them.

"I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

"Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

"And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

"I'll think about it," you stop him.

Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes.

Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'.

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch.

It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs.

You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object.

It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones.

Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint.

You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to.

Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog.

A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired.

The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family.

He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money.

Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park.

You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep.

The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.

"What in the world…"

Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house.

It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food.

"Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion.

Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt.

"Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!"

She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest.

Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic.

What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you?

It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

"Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

"Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

"I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

"Obviously not."

He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time).

"I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days."

"I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

“Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

“And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.”

You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him.

"Yeah."

It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead.

"Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

And, she's hugging you again.

"I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say.

"Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear.

"So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

"It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life."

Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

"Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off.

Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later.

Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something.

The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day.

When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father.

"Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?"

"Dad!"

Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

"Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

"Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier.

All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

"Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle.

Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches.

You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

He grunts. "That makes one of us."

Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy.

You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?"

Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins.

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school.

"Look how cute you are with braces!"

"Please stop."

"All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?"

"Mom made me."

"You were so skinny. What happened?"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap.

It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his.

He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you.

Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream.

You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders.

You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh.

He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more.

So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day.

"She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

"Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were."

"What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous.

Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

"We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

"Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?"

"That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

"We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

"So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?"

"Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader #mels prima vista

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Note

Ok so I've been coming back here to reread all of your work and I never get tired of it (the NSFW alphabet one is low-key my favorite one 👀) and let me tell you that you're one of my favorite writers and love all of your work.

You don't have to do it if you don't want to, but do you have hc of how Billy Russo would react/ be when he finds out that he's going to be a father? Based on your NSFW alphabet you did for him, you described him as a (extremely) sweet and caring person and I couldn't help to think about how he would be if he ever had a kid of his own.

(Once again, feel free to ignore this if you want to or feel uncomfortable doing it. It's a thought that hass been in my head for a while and wanted to get it out of my system lmao 😂)

First off, thank you! I really appreciate that 🥺🖤🖤🖤

Also, I love talking about headcanons, never worry about asking me about them lmao

So I just wanna say since I did write a multi chapter series about how Billy walked away when he found out that like, the idea for that happened because the first part, his letter to you, is what came to my head. And I wanted to write something sad and angsty. I feel like he's much more likely to stick around in all honesty but the boys got so many issues who even knows loool

But I just wanted to point that out because this will be different and I don't want people to be like; 'But Thalia... you did a whole thing where he left...' 😂

So yeah lmao

Remember, this is my Billy. AU, still bros with Frank Billy 👀😂🖤

I've split this into a few scenarios because I feel like there would be small differences depending on the context.

One night stand:

You had a one night stand with Billy. An amazing, ruin you for other men, kind of one night stand. But then you found out you were pregnant and went to Anvil to tell him. Of course when you turn up there he has no idea the bomb you're about to drop on him. Instead, he gives you a filthy smirk as you enter his office.

"Couldn't stay away?"

When you tell Billy you're pregnant, there's a long moment where he just blinks at you and you're pretty sure you might have broke him.

He cycles through a million and one emotions before it settles on a mix of sheer terror, shock and happiness.

He tries not to get offended when you blurt out that you'd understand if he didn't want to be part of his baby's life. He didn't want his kid to grow up feeling like he didn't love them. He's not his mother.

You're not offended when the first words to leave his lips are asking if the baby is definitely his. Its a valid question since you'd slept with him just hours after meeting him in a bar.

He tells you he wants to be there and of course he takes care of all medical bills and even tries to convince you to let him buy you a better place to live. Somewhere closer to him so you and the baby will be close by.

It wasn't planned or expected by any means but he wants to be there.

Casual sex/friends with benefits:

Billy comes over expecting to get some great sex and instead has you thrusting a pregnancy test in his hands. You're scared and upset and have no idea how he'll react. You've been sleeping together for a while but been friends for longer than that. His commitment issues are exactly why you're worried.

He sits down and stares at it, letting his brain try to absorb the fact he's going to be a dad. He feels the shot of anxiety run through him, wondering if he can do it. What kind of dad could he be? His own mother never loved him, would he be capable of loving a child?

But he knows the answer is yes. Because despite not even being in a relationship with you and this coming out of the blue, he feels excitement welling inside of him and he doesn't even realise he's smiling at the test in his hands.

When he looks back at you, sees how scared you are, he feels a pang of something in his chest that feels an awful lot like panic. He asks what you want to do, scared of the answer you'll give him. But of course you scoff and tell him you're keeping the baby.

Relief and happiness flood his body then as he gets up, hugging you tightly and stroking your hair.

"You don't gotta worry. I'll take care of you both, I promise."

And he means it. Once again he pays all the medical bills and he shockingly tells you he'd like to make a real go out of what you two have.

He buys a house for you and the baby but doesn't pressure you about him living there too. He let's you set the pace for what's happening between you.

Relationship/marriage:

He cries. Like a lot. Planned or not, the news has him weeping like a little girl. You're living together so he notices when you're feeling unwell. Notices that you haven't had your period since he normally gets you ice-cream and also gets you pads and things if you need them. He doesn't say anything though until you do.

So he gets the test for you. The pair of you sit on the bed after you did what you needed, a timer on his phone. The test is on the dresser across the room. Both of you are silent. Overwhelmed by what might happen. He really wants it to be positive. (If this wasn't planned then when you told him you might be, he started to really think about it and found he wanted a baby with you).

When the timer goes off you both jump up comically but hesitate near the dresser. Billy ends up being the one brave enough to look. You watch his reaction for a moment and you're startled when his eyes water, the way he looks at you with a beaming smile as the tears fall without him even noticing.

"We're havin' a baby!" He grins like a mad man, picking you up and twirling you around.

He's so excited that the second your feet hit the ground, he's on the phone to Frank telling him the news. Still crying, mind you.

Once he's made his phone calls, he tells you the penthouse is being left behind. He's buying a house near the Castle's for your new little family.

Both he and Frank fix it up and decorate it.

No matter which scenario it happens:

Billy goes to every appointment with you, every ultrasound. The first time he sees his baby, he cries. When he finds out if its a boy or girl, he cries. When he first feels the baby kick, he cries. When the baby's born, he's a mess. He attends every class with you and reads all the books he can get his hands on. And of course he asks Frank for advice about anything and everything.

He frequently talks to your bump, regalling the baby with tales of his life or reading from a book. He takes good care of you, anything you need, he gets you. You want pickles and a donut at 4am? Don't worry, Billy's got you. You need crazy good sex because the hormones are driving you up the wall? Billy's got you. You're sobbing because you feel like a beached whale and none of your clothes, even the pregnancy ones fit you? Billy's there. Telling you that you're absolutely beautiful. Radiant even. He gets one of his guys to buy you a bunch of clothes that fit and he cuddles you until you feel better. He dotes on you constantly, always calls and texts if he's not with you to make sure you're okay.

When you go into labour, he's there holding your hand and cheering you on the whole time. And the second the babys there, he's sobbing and smiling like an idiot. When he first holds his baby, it's a feeling he's never felt before. He feels complete in every way. So full of love he just might burst from it. And while a tiny part of him grieves for the baby version of himself that didn't seem to ever have that, he's overwhelmed by the pure happiness and love as he gazes down at his little ones face.

"Shit... you're so perfect."

He vows to be the best damn father he can be and the baby will never feel unloved for even a second.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo imagine #billy russo headcanons

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bucky-at-bedtime · 3 years

Text

Stucky Fic Recs

So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).

Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!

Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!

Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:

‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear

Rating: M, Words: 117,692

https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516

“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”

[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]

‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar

Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789

https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577

"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."

"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."

Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"

"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."

"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”

[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]

'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid

Rating: M, Words: 71297

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814

But Steve was fine.

Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.

He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.

AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.

[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]

‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends

Rating: E, Words: 67,775

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217

“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."

Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"

"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”

[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]

‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous

Rating: E, Words: 34,537

https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736

“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”

[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]

‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic

Rating: E, Words: 88,570

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077

“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”

Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.

He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.

Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”

[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]

‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)

Rating: E, Words: 94,364

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481

“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.

James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.

“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.

“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”

“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.

[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]

'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou

Rating: E, Words: 111695

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]

Propietary Information by Notlucy

Rating: E, Words: 85141

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777

“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”

[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']

‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB

Rating: M, Words: 17280

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941

“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.

So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”

[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]

‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday

Rating: E, Words:75562

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530

“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”

[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]

'War, Children' by Nonymos

Rating: E, Words: 106615

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394

“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.

Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”

[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]

'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow

Rating: G, Words: 51191

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072

“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.

It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”

[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]

#stucky #stucky fics #stucky fic recs #fic rec

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 4)

platonic! mori ougai x f!reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

author’s note: it’s port mafia time! ages are still one year younger than canon

also!! my 100 followers event still has 7 5 4 3 2 1 spot open for requests!! go check out this post for more info!! i’d like to get the whole prompt list done early so i have time to write them! (event is now closed as of feb. 10, 2021)

another doctor? oh wait, another doctor and his daughter

as you expected, ranpo and fukuzawa have not let you go easy after what had happened a couple days prior (3 days ago to be exact)

one of them, or more often than not, the two of them would go visit the bakery at least twice a day

once in the morning right before opening, and the second time right before closing

if they could, they would visit around lunch time, but that was usually yosano

tbh you were thankful that yosano hasn’t been as overbearing as the other two but you knew she probably wanted to give you a break because holy shit are they extremely over protective

currently, it was the fourth day of being watched by the two eldest ada members, but there were no said ada members with you at the moment

and boy were you overjoyed

turns out, the ada has an important escort job for a government official or smth, and on top of that, fukuzawa has a bunch of meetings to attend

even ranpo has his hands full with a couple of difficult murder cases across the country

you’re lowkey, no highkey, worried bc you learned literally 3 days ago that ranpo doesn’t know how to ride the train 😀😀

you were worried abt them, there’s no question, but on the inside you were a bit relieved to which ranpo called you out on it immediately

that led to the two of you going at each other’s throats for nearly half an hour

let’s just say fukuzawa scolded the two fo you for a while

going back to the present, it was around one pm and you had just finished sending a text message to both fukuzawa and ranpo (cause they insisted) when a little blonde girl with blue eyes wearing a red dress matching with a red bow in her hair and red shoes walked in

she immediately went to the glass case to look at the desserts displayed

as she looked around, you watched her at the corner of your eyes and a with a smile as you wiped down one of the tables

after wiping down the table, you quickly went to go wash your hands and you walked over and stood next to her

you bent slightly and smiled bigger as she stared at one of the treats in the glass

“is that the one you want?”

she nodded without looking away from the glass

you giggled before going to the back and placing the one she wanted on the plate and held it out to her

the blonde was honestly so confused bc one, no adult supervision, and two, there was no tell tale way to know that she had money

to you, she was an open book so when she looked at you, her face immediately read “but i have no money, or a parent...??”

you simply patted her head and pushed along to one of the nearby tables and pulled a chair for her

you did not regret anything when you saw the look on her face when you told her that it was on the house

“name’s elise!” “i’m (y/n)!”

you sat with her for a while continuing to give her sweets she reminded you of ranpo in all honestly and talking abt random things

she mostly complained abt a “rintarou” though

speaking of which, when a man in a doctor’s coat came through the door near screaming “elise-chan! elise-chan!” you figured that was probably the rintarou she was complaining abt

you smiled as you watched the two interact

“elise-chan why would just disappear like that?!”

“i wanted to see rintarou cry”

“so mean!”

...their behavior was questionable but endearing ig

“rintarou” suddenly turned to you, thanking you for “taking care of his daughter bc she’s always getting into trouble”

*cue angry noises and face from elise*

he introduced himself as a “local neighborhood doctor”

you smelled bullshit but didn’t say anything bc he has been kind to you so far

he asked you how he could repay you and you were thinking that you can actually win something bc you’re not refusing an ada member oh you poor oblivious child but you were appalled when elise answered for you

it went like this

“is there anything i can repay you with for taking care of my dear elise-chan? perhaps paying for all the sweets she has eaten?”

“oh no! don’t worry abt that, it’s nothing! it was a pleasure getting to know—”

“let’s buy out all of her food!”

h u h

you knew she enjoyed your pastries and stuff but like w h a t

you inwardly sigh in relief when the doctor agreed with you that “that’s a bit much elise-chan” and you were thanking every deity out there when suddenly

she threw a temper tantrum

you watched in confusion and slight horror at the 180 of the sweet little girl you were talking to like 10 minutes ago

her guardian panicked slightly and tried to get her to calm down but ahaha no that didn’t happen

“WAHH rintarou!! but i want it!! (y/n)’s food is the best i’ve ever had!!”

“b-but elise-chan, we can’t just buy—”

“i’ll wear all the dresses i’ve ever rejected and more if we buy it out right now and keep buying sweets here forever”

“...deal”

your eyes twitch at the “innocent” smiles the two gave you after their “talk”

fast forward literally 5 minutes and you’ve already flipped the close sign on your door with note (saying you’re sold out) and you’re all over the place running around behind the counter trying to fit everything into boxes as the two are sitting on a nearby table lightly chatting

about 20-25, nearly 30 minutes later you finishing packing everything in the glass case

it was a lot

we’re literally talking about tiered cakes and dozens of batches of cookies, cupcakes, literally everything and anything

when the two notice you’re done they get up meet you by the register

“a-ano, you really don’t have to buy all of this...the total is going to be quite large...”

“no worries!”

honestly at this point, you kind of missed the chaotic calls from ranpo that happened like every half hour

you thought you were done being surprised for the day but next thing you know men in suits come into Sakura’s and begin to load the boxes into a black car

dealing with the detectives was already starting to be a handful and now you have to deal whoever the hell these two people where

quite frankly, you were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this

like-

who buys out a whole bakery?!

and who has the money to buy out a whole bakery?!

what kind of job could you possibly have?!

was this guy really just a doctor?!

right before the two leave you call out to them

“a-ah wait! i don’t think i ever caught your name!”

the two blink at you before eyeing each other

“mori ougai” 😄😄

you started smelling bad shits again

>:/

it was a weird feeling

you felt something off but at the same time, you weren’t really afraid

and with that the two left

you were already tired from this whole thing but you now get the rest of the day off

so i guess something worked out in your favor

until the next fricking day

again, ranpo and fukuzawa canceled out on you

you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not

and as soon as you thought you were going to have a normal business day, guess who walked through the doors

yeah that’s right

“the local neighborhood doctor” and his daughter

you froze before eyeing them with suspicion

if mori was amused, he didn’t show it, only giving you a smile

elise immediately left his side and practically leaped onto you making you cut yourself with the knife you were holding

well shit now you’re bleeding

it was only 7:15 in the morning; you had literally just opened

you were cursing every deity out there

you quickly grab a nearby and press it against your wound and scrambled around looking for the first aid kit you had nearby

“oh? (y/n)-kun are you bleeding?”

“(y/n) i’m sorry!”

“a-ah, no worries elise-chan”

you really need to stop spacing out bc next thing you know, the sign on your door is flipped to close again (along with the same note from yesterday explaining you’re sold out taped on the door) and you’re sitting at a table with elise in your lap and mori wrapping your hand in a bandage

“tsk tsk (y/n)-kun you need to be more careful...but it is elise-chan’s fault”

“die rintarou!”

“but no worries! it’s not that deep so you don’t need stitches”

“thank you, mori-san, but can i ask why you and elise-chan are here again? not that i mind...”

whether or not you were lying is up to you

“oh we’re here to buy out your stock again!”

“wait what-”

the fuck???

did they not just buy everything yesterday???

frozen, you stare at the man in front if you with said man giving you another “innocent” smile

this little shit

wait till you meet dazai

but i guess that’s why the sign on the door is flipped to close bc you don’t even remember flipping it yourself or taping the note from yesterday to the door

you spent the next half hour trying to convince the two over some tea (your signature one of course) that “no you don’t need to or should buy everything i have, you’re going to deprive the rest of my customers”

cough cough ranpo

like the day before, you were losing this argument

can you just never win?

as you were losing the argument (obviously) you realized that you don’t even know why they want to buy everything again

“mori-san, why do the two of you even want to buy everything in the first place?”

“ah it was elise-chan’s request of course! but i do admit, after trying some of your sweets myself, i grew quite attached! so did the rest of my subordinates after my precious elise-chan made them try it, not like they could refuse her or me; i am their boss after all (y/n)-kun.”

*cue confusion*

“subordinates? wait are those the guys from yesterday?? aren’t you a doctor...?”

“ah ex-doctor actually, i’m the leader of the port mafia”

...

“ah (y/n)-kun that’s quite the coughing fit you have going on, do you need water?”

if it wasn’t obvious, you choked on your tea and had quite the coughing fit; you were wheezing and everything making elise leave you lap and settling for dangling over mori’s shoulders

“...you’re kidding”

“im afraid im not”

this man confuses the hell out of you??

like-

w h y would he just say that, to you of all people

but it explains the bad shits you were smelling/feeling yesterday

“are you afraid?”

“being completely honest with you, mori-san, not really”

“and why is that?”

you simply shrug not really knowing the answer

you aren’t lying, you just aren’t

maybe bc yesterday, he seemed more like a doting parent than the boss of the most criminal organization of yokohama

yes, you’ve heard the rumors, obviously, but just saying, if the port mafia wanted to hurt you, you’d probably be dead in a ditch by now

and they haven’t really been a bother to you, they were more like background characters in your life

well

until yesterday of course

mori simply raises an eyebrow and a smile seemingly okay with your very vague answer

“why did you tell me that mori-san?”

the man only smiles a bit wider at you and this time, you’re the one raising an eyebrow

“just a feeling”

yeah you were starting to smell bad shits again

“and besides! elise-chan seems quite fond of you (y/n)-kun! i wasn’t planning on doing anything to you in the first place, but even if i wanted to, i don’t think i could! i wouldn’t want to upset my dearest cute elise-chan”

“die rintarou!”

“that’s mean elise-chan!”

your eyes began to twitch in slight annoyance

cause istg the duality of this man—

this strange strange man

oh dearest you haven’t even met dazai yet

after that has been said and done, somehow you found yourself in front of stores being dragged by elise

how did you end up there you ask? i don’t know either so there’s nothing we can do abt that

eventually, you found yourself holding a bunch of shopping bags full of dresses and clothes of the sort

some of it your size and the others elise’s

...

“mori-san?”

“yes (y/n)-kun?”

“why do i have bags of clothing that are fit for me rather than elise?”

“oh that’s because elise refused to go without you and if you didn’t get anything!”

yeah

that makes perfect sense, of course

you could see why elise kept on complaining abt this guy

the two of you actually bonded over making fun of him

you have n o fear

actually, maybe just a little

the three of you were out for basically the entire day and you were exhausted

cause holy shit there was a lot of money wasted, shopping bags obtained, and walking involved

it was around 5 pm when the three of you were making it back to Sakura’s

along the way you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with mori

even if he was a questionable person to be having a pleasant conversation with, you enjoyed it nonetheless

you hoped that it makes it harder to get rid of you if he ever changed his mind but we don’t talk abt that

anywho

when the three of you arrived, you immediately dumped all the bags you were holding and went straight to work packaging everything for “the local neighborhood doctor”

before they left, mori agreed to not buy out all of your stock except for some occasions but instead settled ordering massive batches of a little bit of everything every few days

how that’s not the same as buying everything you won’t ever know

you were standing outside Sakura’s watching the two get into the car that had arrived when suddenly, mori turned to you

“ah (y/n)-kun, i know that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this, it wouldn’t be like you to, but just a reminder, it would probably be in your best interest not to let anything slip to anyone okay? we wouldn’t want any enemies using you against the port mafia. so take care of yourself hm? see you next time”

and bippity boppity boo just like that, they were gone

how that man managed to get your personality down in just like 10 hours you don’t want to know

and that’s basically the story of how you started making more food/bake goods to sell

true to his word, every few days, or sometimes consecutive days, mori called you and made a large order

and i mean large

on those days, someone from the port mafia would pick it up and then you get paid

thankfully, by increasing the amount of food you made, you always had enough to put out on display and to sell even after the large order

before doing that, on those days you didn’t have a large stock, someone by the name of edogawa ranpo would weep at your feet

he will deny this; after all, great detectives don’t do weeping

or so he says

and speaking of the detective, you never did tell him what had transpired the two days he and fukuzawa were absent on checking on you

but tbh, i even think ranpo could’ve deduct this one

you didn’t tell him bc you were afraid, no of course not that’s ridiculous mori, in elise’s words, was a loser

you didn’t tell him bc you knew he and fukuzawa would flip the fuck out

and that would be a major inconvenience to you

you didn’t see the point in telling them anyway

so whatever, it’s like it’ll be important

and if ranpo and fukuzawa noticed the abundant of bags near the door leading up to the staircase when they visited you at the end of the day they didn’t say anything

of course one of them said smth

“ne (n/n)-chan since when did you like to buy a bunch of things; waste of money if you could just be using that money to make more food so you wouldn’t sell out right away and have food to feed me”

your eyes twitched

he could’ve worded that a little better but whatever

it is ranpo-san after all

“i just got carried away since i closed up early; you know it isn’t often i get to go shopping”

and if he smelled your bullshit he didn’t say anything

for real this time

that slightly concerns you ngl

anyways

let’s just say quite a few heads were turned when they saw their boss leading a bunch of lower level subordinates carrying many light pink boxes of different sizes to his office for the second time

oh and just another thing

*whispers* he was lying when elise made his other subordinates eat your food; they kept it all to themselves”

was that a ruse to help lead the revelation of his real occupation who knows

“(y/n)-kun is a very interesting person don’t you think so elise-chan?”

“quiet. i’m eating cake.”

“that’s so mean elise-chan!”

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gothgirlmahi · 3 years

Text

Tight Fit

Summary: This is just porn. You’re a receptionist that gets stuck in an elevator. Everyone is very happy about that.

This was just an excuse to write my faves :) Masterlist

No beta, I live on the edge.

Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader

Warnings: All the smut. Very corny porn with no plot. One line of implied Stucky. Minors DNI

The situation you found yourself in was altogether ridiculous. You had to deliver some documents to another floor. The information could have been handled by a phone call but bureaucracy. After hitting the button on the elevator, you realized you left one of the documents at your desk. A quick jog back to grab them left you running back to the elevator, scrambling to get between the doors before they closed. Then it happened.

You were stuck.

Somehow, you managed to get caught around your waist. Your upper body and head faced the inside of the elevator while your lower half was still stuck facing your desk. The papers you held spilled to the floor inside the elevator. The doors were tightly cinched around you, giving no leeway as you tried to wiggle your way out. You could feel your skirt riding up with the effort you exerted.

Steps coming down the hall caught your attention. Someone could help you!

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

Judging by the voice it was Captain Rogers. America’s golden boy. Gorgeous Steve Rogers. You went weak in the knees at the sound of him and if you weren’t being held up by the elevator, you were sure you’d be swooning.

“Uh,” you tried your best to look behind you and through the doors, “can you help me out of here? I kind of had a little incident.”

“Oh?”

With your head turned, you watched as he came closer and put down his shield. The angle soon became too much for your neck and you turned back around, sighing and dejected.

“How bad is it?” you asked. He was silent for a moment.

“It doesn’t look bad at all. Maybe I can help.”

Steve came closer and firmly held you by the waist. The first attempt to pull you out was unsuccessful but he was undeterred.

“Maybe if I just...get closer.”

He stood right behind you to ground himself. His crotch was pressed up against your behind and your eyes widened.

Was he hard? That very much felt like an erection.

He pulled again, with a little more force this time. You may have budged by about an inch but no more.

“I don’t think it’s working,” you told him. He didn’t say anything. His hands began to wander along your lower back and down the sides of your thighs.

“Uh, Captain Rogers? Is something wrong?” you asked.

“Sorry, I just...your ass is so—I mean. I think maybe if I pull your skirt up I can get you out.”

That didn’t make a whole lot of sense. But if Captain America wanted to ogle your ass you’d be a willing model for him. Even if he wanted to do a little more than that, it would be alright with you.

“Go ahead,” you urged him. You heard him sign in relief behind you before bunching your skirt up at your waist. He made a pained noise behind you.

“Your ass is amazing.”

“I thought you were getting me out?”

“I will, but consider this. You want to get out. I want to get off. Maybe we can help each other out.”

This was better than any wet dream or any fantasy you crafted. Captain America was asking to fuck you.

“Yes, yes, a million times yes.”

Steve spanked you lightly before rubbing his hands all over your ass. He massaged it tenderly, kneading and appreciating the supple flesh. One of his hands lifted your thong and held it by the string.

“You always wear these to work?”

“Every single day,” you answered him. He chuckled behind you before pushing the material to the side.

The sound of his belt buckle excited you. How many people could say they got fucked by Captain America, one of the hottest people on the planet? How many people knew Captain America was an ass man?!

You both let out groans as he entered you. He was big, but you were ready. Plenty of sleepless nights riding dildos and imagining it was him had you prepared for anything he could give you. He slammed into you hard and you let out loud moans into the space of the elevator.

Steve’s hands never left your ass as he fucked you. Pinching and squeezing while he rammed into you. Soft groans of pleasure left his mouth, spurring on your own enjoyment. You bit your bottom lip, trying to keep your screaming to a minimum and braced one of your hands on the wall even though Steve was doing a good job of keeping you in place.

“Steve, it feels so good,” you cried out. He cupped your ass cheek, shaking it in his hand.

“I love watching your ass jiggle. Everyday you come in wearing these skirts. I’ve wanted to fuck you for months.”

The idea that you could have had this months ago made you want to kick yourself. You could have been fucking Captain America months ago?!

Steve sped up the rhythm of his hips, eagerly fucking you. Your body was alight with pleasure, happily taking everything he gave you.

“Such a tease, sweetheart. It’s like you’ve been taunting me all this time. Is this what you wanted?”

“Oh fuck yes!”

Steve laughed at your reply and reached his hand under you to play with your clit. Your legs shook at the stimulation and you cried out, clenching around him. Steve slapped your ass hard and had you coming all over his cock, moaning and squirming as much as you could in your position. He touched you until you were overstimulated and soon he was filling you up while a low moan of your name escaped his lips. He pulled out and let some of his cum spurt over your ass. You let out a deep sigh at the feeling of him dripping out of you.

Steve stood straight behind you and you heard him shift his weight while he fixed your underwear in place and pulled your skirt back over your ass.

“I’ll be back. Maybe Tony has something that can help.”

You sighed as you heard him step away and enter the stairwell. Sure he was fast, but he’d have to find Tony first. And there were how many floors in this building? Even with the elevator it was still a sizable ride from the first to top floor. You would probably be stuck for a while.

With nothing to do, you twiddled your thumbs before trying to wiggle around and get out. No luck. You were really jammed in there.

You perked you when you heard the door to the stairwell open.

“Steve?” you called out.

“Hey—whoa, what happened to you?” Definitely not Steve.

“Sergeant Barnes?” you asked. This was an embarrassing position to be caught in. Never in your life did you think you’d be greeting the Winter Soldier ass first. Oh well.

“Are you okay?”

You had just been fucked by one of the hottest men you’d ever met. Things could certainly be worse.

“I’m okay, but I’m stuck. Steve was here and he went for help. Do you think you can get me out of here?”

He had a metal arm for crying out loud. If he couldn’t get you out, who could?

“Hmm, let’s see.” You heard him approach and stop a bit behind you. He made a thoughtful noise.

“You have something on your skirt.”

Oh no. Now this was embarrassing.

Found stuck in an elevator covered in Captain America’s jizz.

“Oh, I must have, err, sat in something earlier!”

“I’m going to try to pull you out, okay?” he asked.

“Sounds good to me!”

Bucky placed his hands on your hips and pulled, receiving the same result as his friend.

“Geez, you’re really in there. How did this even happen?”

You shrugged as best you could in your position.

“By all means it doesn’t make sense and yet, here I am.”

Bucky chuckled behind you.

“Okay, I think I get what’s going on here.”

“Huh? What’s going on?”

“If you wanted me to fuck you, you could have just told me. You didn’t have to do some elaborate scheme.”

“But I’m not—“ you stopped yourself as you realized what he was saying, “umm, yeah. You caught me. Was it that obvious?”

It was really your lucky day. Getting laid by two Avengers? What could be better?

“Steve is such an overachiever. He covered you. God, I want to taste you.”

You perked up, suddenly not very keen on your escape plan.

“Then do it! I mean—that would be great! Do whatever you want to me!”

Bucky pulled your skirt up from where it clung to your skin. He groaned at the sight of you before getting to his knees.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll. I gotta get my tongue in that pretty pussy. Clean you up. Stevie really made a mess.”

You were nearly rabid from excitement.

Bucky pulled your thong down your legs and you happily stepped out of it. He lowered his face to your pussy and licked a stripe from your clit to your folds. He sucked on your lips sloppily before pulling away.

“Oh yeah. That’s definitely Rogers.”

You quirked an eyebrow.

“How would you—oh fuck!” Bucky took your clit between his plump lips and sucked hard, leaving you gasping for air. He moved his mouth up, pushing his tongue inside you and moaning as he cleaned you up.

He ate you like a starving man. Within minutes your legs were weak and ready to give out while he pressed against all your sensitive spots. His tongue began to circle your clit and you squirmed, pushing back against his face desperately. Bucky pushed a metal finger deep into your cunt and you moaned his name, still trying to push your hips even further against him. When he pressed another thick digit into you and curled his fingers, you were a goner. Vision blurred and body convulsing while he continued through your orgasm. A little burst of liquid from between your legs had your face heating up in embarrassment as you came down from your high.

Bucky pulled away from you and sat back on his heels.

“That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen in my entire life.”

“That’s never happened before,” you confessed. You could practically hear the smirk on his face.

“Didn’t know I was that good, but glad to be of service. When I get you out of here, I want you to sit on my face.”

“No complaints from me. That is, if I ever get out of here.”

“Hey, don’t worry. We’re going to get you out of here. I’m going to go find Steve and we’ll figure this out.”

He pulled your skirt back down and skipped off into the stairwell. You couldn’t help but notice he kept your underwear. You supposed it didn’t matter at this point, you weren’t exactly doing great at keeping up an air of modesty. You were starting to get sore around your middle from the cinch of the elevator door and hoped they would be back soon.

When the door to the stairwell swung open and someone else stepped out, you could tell by their gait it wasn’t either of the men you had already encountered.

“What is this? Who has done this to you?” Thor bellowed at the sight of you.

“No one did this to me,” you explained.

“This is strange. Some sort of Midgardian tradition?”

“No. I had to deliver some files and I got stuck in here.”

“A helpless maiden. This is certainly a problem I can solve. I’ll have to hold on to you. I hope that is not indecent?”

“Go ahead. Might as well try,” you encouraged him.

Thor circled his hands around your waist and pulled at an angle. To your surprise, you moved just the slightest bit. An idea hit you and you called out for him to stop.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked in concern.

“No, uhh—“

You had one chance to get this right. If Thor could actually get you out of here, maybe you could wait just a little longer and request something else.

“Thor, if you want to, we could do something else before I get out of here.”

“Oh? What could we do in this position?”

“I don’t mean to be forward, but if you want to fuck me you can.”

Thor was silent for a moment. You wanted to hit yourself for sounding so slutty. But you’d be crazy to set aside the opportunity. This wasn’t just anyone, there was a literal god standing behind you. It would be ridiculous not to even offer.

At east that’s what you convinced yourself.

“Well, who am I to deny a beautiful woman her carnal pleasure? I would love to fuck you,” he nearly growled.

You felt like you won the lottery.

Thor pushed your skirt up and gasped at what he saw.

“Oh, you are absolutely dripping. A very welcome sight.”

“Oh, yeah. Steve and Bucky are to blame for that.”

“Ah, they arrived here before I did. This won’t do at all. I’ll have to fill you with my godly seed.”

“You are more than welcome to do that.”

Thor pressed his thumb against your clit and you sighed, reveling in his touch. While he touched you, you heard him fumbling with his armor with his other hand. Thor pulled his hand away from you. Before you could complain, the head of his cock was pressed against your clit and rubbing in mesmerizing circles.

“Ah, that feels good,” you told him.

“I have something that will feel even better. Are you ready?”

“I can’t say yes enough.”

When he pressed against your entrance you realized just how thick he was. Certainly larger than Steve and bigger than any man you had ever been with. He pushed slowly into you, opening up your tight channel for him. Your inner walls clung snugly around his length as he fed you more and more of his cock. Just as you felt like it would never end, his hips were pressed firmly against you.

You let out a shocked gasp.

He stayed there for a bit to let you adjust but you wiggled your hips in protest. You wanted it now. His first thrust had you arching your back and holding onto the elevator door to keep yourself upright. It was like he was touching all of your insides at the same time. Brushing past every single sensitive spot you had and driving you crazy.

You were out of your mind as he fucked you. Absolutely drunk on his cock.

This is it, you thought. My hoeing is going to get me killed.

But what a way to go.

Thor grunted behind you and placed a hand on the back of your neck while the other firmly kept hold on your hip.

“You are breathtaking,” he complimented.

“Yeah,” you managed to get out, “we’ll have to do this again some time.”

“You’ll have no complaint from me,” he assured you.

This experience would probably ruin normal men for you. Nothing could compare.

Thor made you cum so hard your legs went limp. He was pressed deep inside you, leaving you clenching hard around his thick length. Thor fucking growled as he came, thrusting so hard that both of you were pushed through the elevator doors and onto the floor.

His quick reflexes were the only thing stopping him from landing directly on top of you, instead landing beside you at your back. Sometime during your fall his cock had slipped out of you, leaving cum dripping down your thighs.

You had to laugh. The situation was too insane. But you were free! You turned to Thor with a bright smile.

“I could kiss you!” you yelled in excitement. Thor looked intrigued and opened his arms for you.

“I encourage it!”

You fell on top of him, smothering his lips with yours. Neither of you noticed the doors closing and the elevator ascending.

The doors opened to a shocked Tony and Pepper, looking down in horror at the mess of papers you and Thor were lying half naked in, still making out.

“How the hell are we going to explain this to HR?”

Important Author’s Note: I really wanna make out with Thor.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter solider x reader #thor x reader #thor x you #stucky x reader #marvel x reader

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