sour candy i love it but tears are in my eyes rn I didn't think it would be so sour 😭😭 -🐻🍯

OMGOGMGIA HI 🐻🍯 ANON IT’S BEEN A YEAR SINCE WE’VE LAST SPOKEN MWAH MWAH MWAH!!! SO GLAD TO SEE YOU HERE <3333 and yes you’re right. i mean the only type of sour candy i’d eat are sour patch kids because those are MMMMMMM

my spice tolerance is super low so it makes sense that nobody would catch me eating anything that gives a little kick to your tongue 😭😭 now that you’re saying that i’m curious dear 🐻🍯 anon. what kind of sour candy are you eating??

can I get some more octavinelle with pregnant!mc? how they would react around mc and when the baby is born if they would cry or anything

in case I'm violating any rules or the requests are closed feel free to delete this! I'm just a big jade simp and I love my octatrio a lot too!

Requests are currently closed.... but.... I'm a sucker for domestic stuff and an Octavinelle stan, so I'm gonna do this anyways asddf

This will be the one exception [note post writing everything: YEAH this will definitely be the ONLY exception.... this is looooong]

Tried to keep everything as gender neutral as possible: when referring to pregnant partner and the babies alike

--

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 💜

When you're pregnant

Proud papa!! Azul definitely cried from happiness when news of your pregnancy reached him

Was also a nervous wreck, however. He's very insecure about his abilities to be a good father and role model his children would like to follow and look up to

You know him, he's studious and booksmart. Ashengrotto will take to reading many parenting books and blogs entries to prepare himself for the arrival of his baby

Definitely had you both enroll in classes in a local hospital so you know how to act and what to expect when time for labor arrives

Health and being healthy is important to him. For you he will put up with eating all sort of balanced meals, regardless of how much he dislikes them (so you're not alone while keeping up a diet)

Always accompanies you to your gynecology appointments. Cried every time your baby's heartbeat was heard through the echo/ultrasound machine

We know how he is, grown up Azul probably has a business of his own and it takes a good amount of his time to attend. Still, he will take time to call you through the day to make sure you're fine

Probably had either of the twins look after you in days he really couldn't take time off his job. Jade being the more helpful one with chores and emotional rants (you've both probably sniffled at natural documentaries), while Floyd is perfect for food prep and hysterical laughs over fail videos

Every night, before going to bed, he spends time talking to your baby bump, places some kisses on it too

He goes sooooo soft in those moments before sleep takes you away, his love lulls you to refreshing rest

Always makes sure to give you a kiss and a rub goodbye to your bump when heading off to work

Really enjoys watching you cook. the pregnancy glow looks beautiful on you when doing mundane tasks, he thinks

Maternity pictures? He's a little reluctant, but if you really want to... *end up carrying a small copy of his favorite pic in his wallet* *sends a copy of the whole pack to his mother and grandma* *frames his favorite and puts it on his office*

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

SCREEEAAAAMS!!!!

But after a nice yell of surprise, fear and nerves, he's ready to go and put your plan of action learned in those classes ready!

He's collected for the most part, but every time you scream from the contractions, he screams too because "he can feel it"... but it's really just his nerves getting out of hand

However, once you get to the hospital, this man will burst in and yell loud and clear "SOMEONE HELP ME, MY SPOUSE IS IN LABOR!!!" because the ride was so stressful he can't hold it together anymore

Be it through natural labor or C-section, Azul will want to hold your hand and be there for you through it all.... He might get light headed at times, but again, he'll push through anything to make sure you and the baby are fine

If he somehow manages to translate his grip strength to his human form now that he's older, he will be squeezing your hand just as hard as you're squeezing

Is a mess of tears once your child's first cry echoes through the room. It feels so relieving and miraculous.... You're now parents to your first little baby!!

Can't help to smile so tenderly at his chubby little angel. Runs a finger delicately against their cheek and sheds more tears at how warm and soft and alive they are

"My precious little pearl... What a blessing you are, little one, already making us so joyous. Welcome"

Azul holds his child so gently. If you had a glow while pregnant, Azul has a glow as a new father. You swear you can see a golden halo around him whenever he's pampering and carrying your child

Reads them a bedtime story every day. They may not understand him, but Azul wants to acquaint them to his voice quickly

Since he has paperwork to do at home, there have been times the octomer left you to sleep while he attended the baby's necessities. It relaxes him, and the rocking to get them back to sleep refreshes him. How can one not be powered up after seeing a plump little munchkin sound asleep with a smile on their face?

This private moments with the baby get him emotional, has probably cried during all of them. He just feels blessed with a mountain of happiness when he sees his baby sleep so comfortably, knowing they're surrounded by love and care.

Is curious to see if his baby will manifest a merfolk form later in life, or manifest any sort of magical powers.

BONUS: It was during a family vacation to the beach during their 2nd year in primary school where your child manifested their mer-form. They were ecstatic!!

🐬 Jade Leech 💜

When you're pregnant

His expression was as collected as always, but his heart jumped into outer space when he got the news of your pregnancy. Held you close and kissed you with so much passion and love, you saw a new Jade that day.

He thinks you don't notice, but the loving gaze he shoots your way when doing the most random things around the house is so soft, your heart stops every time (think of his lab coat groovy, that smile)

Like Azul, he's very keen on keeping you healthy. Along with a proper diet, he makes sure you take your daily supplements

But he turns a blind eye when you wish to indulge a liiiittle too much on that snack you adore

With his big appetite, it doesn't come as a surprise that he willingly subjects himself to your strange cravings

Jade is another one that accompanies you to each and every doctor's appointment. Is well read of what to expect in every month mark, so he asks the most questions to clear up any doubts you may have.

His eyes filled with tears when hearing your baby's heartbeat for the first time. Held your hand tightly and kiss your forehead so many times while you were in the ultrasound room

While he's patient, sometimes your mood swings also get him in a sour mood. Thankfully, he has a way to destress with his job and terrariums. It's not long into the day when he calls to apologize for any dumb things he said, and to make sure you're doing fine

Floyd sometimes tags along to your home. It's always 50/50 on what it'll be: nice funny harmony, or utter disastrous chaos that leaves you sobbing in your husband's arms.

Perhaps the one thing Jade dislikes of your pregnancy is ho hard it is for you to find a position to sleep in because your constant tossing and turning interrupts his sleep every time

Jade speaks to your bump in whispers. Likes to lay his head on your lap and talk to the baby. He tells stories of his childhood, tells the little one how much they're loved, and sometimes indulges in singing

He also likes to play classical music for your bun

The one thing he adores? Feeling your baby kick, it always lights up his face with a bright pointy smile

If you want maternity photos, Jade is quick to convince! He acts like it embarrasses him, but he does secretly want some nice pictures to commemorate this period in your lives (plus, Mama Leech wants some to display in her home!)

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

His mind is running a mile a minute. Excuse him is he calls you "hospital" instead of your name, everything's flashing before his eyes quicker than he can register.

Would crash the car into the entrance from how fast everything's happening, but he doesn't. He does carry you to the front desk and hurriedly pants "Spouse, baby, NOW! HELP!!"

For x or y reason, Jade ends up waiting to hear the news of you and the baby. He's not in the room with you. The whole time he's left alone, he's bouncing his feet and pacing back and forth. In a short moment of clarity, he dials up Azul and notifies him of the situation, asking the octomer to pass the information to his twin and parents.

With how long births are, it shouldn't be surprising to see Mama and Papa Leech, Floyd and Azul arrive at the hospital. However, with how worried and stressed he is right now, it does catch Jade by surprise.

This moment of uncertainty, of not being by your side, is the one time where the eel lets his emotions and thoughts go unfiltered.... which may provoke his twin a little. But it's exactly these small quarrels that snap sense into him and remind him that he should focus his attention on doctors and nurses for any possible news about you. They also help refresh and keep him awake

His mother and Azul are the most helpful, calming him down and quelling his anxieties about your and the baby's safety

The moment he sees the familiar face of one of the doctors that entered the same room as you, he's up and speedwalking to them.

As soon as the merman gets permission to see you, he's already making his way to you

Finally, he can rest and let it all out. There's visible tears flowing out his eyes and sobs coming out of him while he holds your little bundle of joy. Not even a thousand kisses are enough to show his gratitude to all that you've done for him

He was already in love with your baby the moment he laid eyes on them, but once their tiny hand wrapped around his finger.... HE WAS DONE FOR, THIS BABY WOULD BE SPOILED BY PAPA FOR ALL ETERNITY. In fact, it was this moment the one that made him ugly cry

His instincts got the best of him. Jade literally snapped around to bite his father and Floyd when they got a too close to the sleeping baby. By a miracle he allowed his mother coddle them for a split second. Can you blame the poor man? He's sleep deprived and stressed, cut him some slack

Once he got some rest, Jade was embarrassed by his words and actions, but oh well... The past is in the past

He adores spending time with your baby. Every time he's in charge of bathing them, he does the cutest babytalk. He lives to see them giggle and relax in the water

Feeding time is also one of his favorites, and you also enjoy it too. Jade is just wonderful when taking care of the baby, your heart swells and a smile reaches your lips (partly because he turns so silly to make the little one eat)

He is helpful when attending the child at night, but whenever he had a stressful day at work he pleads you to go and calm them down

Talking about stressful days, feel free to send him some selfies and pictures of your baby through the day. They surely will cheer him up a little while he works.

When your child starts attempting to talk, Jade will go along with it. He nods and answers attentively to anything your baby says

BONUS: At around 5 years of age, your kid turned into their merfolk form in the middle of bath time. They cried from panic while Jade had a proud smile on his face

🦈 Floyd Leech 💜

When you're pregnant

He takes a minute to process the news. Frankly, he's nervous about this big leap, but he's sure he wants to have kids with you. His excitement may be subdued at first, but you will see him throw more smiles and tender gazes your way within the following weeks

If you notice him spacing out during the first weeks, urge him to speak out. It will take many tries to get him to open up, but one night he goes to spoon you, hand carefully caressing your tummy. "I'm unsure... isn't this... too fast?"

Understand that his doubts are more about feeling unprepared (specifically him, he has no clue how to even begin preparing), not about not wanting to have kids. "Accidents happen, Floyd, we can't control every variable in our lives. We have one another, I'm certain that together we can do this."

"Plus, we can always consult your parents." Cue a groan from him, but soon after there was a smile

Slow but steady, Leech begins researching and reading up about parenting and pregnancy. Lemme tell ya, he's not looking forward to the mood swings. Sure enough, when they arrive, he handles them very poorly. At the end of every day, however, he hugs you close while in bed and asks for forgiveness through kisses to your back

He sometimes gets bored by all the technical talk your gynecologist speaks, but follows their orders to a T. They're the professional, he barely knows the surface of what your body's going through.

After being told that was the baby's heartbeat, Floyd's wide mismatched eyes remained glued to the monitor showing the silhouette of his little bun. Chills coursed through him and his eyes watered, heart leaping with joy.... It felt so strange, but he didn't wish this magical emotion to stop

He probably buys you one of those pill organizers with pretty colors so you know and he knows if you've taken your supplements

Whenever he has a very shitty day at work, being greeted by you waddling up to him due to your feet hurting from carrying the baby once he arrives home is the best. It makes him chuckle, but he soon drops down to place a kiss to your tummy to dispel any irritation you may feel his way after his small laugh

About work... Azul kinda lets him do as he pleases, he's aware there's no changing his decision. If he wants to skip half the shift to keep an eye on you, he allows it. But Floyd must heed important calls whenever he's summoned urgently.

Will ask to bath together. Intimate, soothing, and relaxing. Bathing with you while hugging you from behind to feel the bump reassures him you're both doing a good job so far, that there's nothing to fear

It's mainly in the few seconds before bedtime that he drops onto your lap to chat with the little one. Likes to hum melodies to the bump

He has a little game where he'll poke at your belly and wait to see if the baby kicks the spot he prodded

Sometimes, Azul pops up for a visit. Very calming to have the grey haired to talk to about emotional messes. Jade sometimes calls to make sure you're both fine and have everything you need. If he visits, they're short and to the point.

Maternity photoshoot?? Nah, he'll pass.... but if you are stubborn and very insistent, he relents. You better not send them to his parents behind his back (but you totally do, of course).

When you're in labor/the baby arrives

You want chaos? Because you definitely got chaos! Don't get me wrong, Floyd is actually doing a tremendously amazing job carrying your bag and yourself to the car. He's actually driving superb while reminding you to take repeat the breathing exercises you were taught. It's just...... the other people's slow pace and stupidity the ones making him yell profanities

Absolutely throws his signature crazed look at the first nurse he finds when asking, no, demanding help

That crazed look was reason enough to keep him out of the room you'd be in, his consequent aggressiveness after given the news is an even grater reason. If you can muster it, tell him you will be okay and to trust the doctors.

Sits on the closest waiting space to your room. Probably goes up to a bending machine and punches it a couple times to release some of the tension (he got a free snack, too)

Now it's when the nervousness settles in. He's so afraid at having you and his child away from him, he's worried about everything. May shed a couple tears of frustration, fear, and stress. His instincts tell him to protect you even if he knows there's nothing to protect you from, you're in a hospital for goodness sake!

That's when he calls Jade for comfort, and soon after dials his mother. It's her voice the one that helps him break through the confusing fog in his mind to go back and sit as close to your room as he can

Probably ends up stress eating everything in that vending machine he punched as he waits for any news about you and the baby He's munching on the last bit of a candy bar when a new one crosses his field of vision. It's Jade, with a bag full of treats, and some much needed water. Azul's beside his twin

It feels strange, but Floyd feels very vulnerable and needs the familiarity both of them bring. He lets his head fall on Jade's shoulder, which the twin takes as cue to hug him by placing an arm around his shoulders. Azul kneels in front of him and asks "How are you feeling, Floyd?"

"Scared.... and alert. Like I need to protect them, but... I know they're safe." He probably ends up crying a little more right then. After being calmed down by Azul, he probably sleeps for 10 minutes

Wakes up to find his mother replacing Jade by his side, and his dad is also with them now. Definitely feels much better after some shut eye and after seeing he's now surrounded by familiar faces

When he hears his name be called out by the doctor, he's immediately shooting up and throwing questions at the doc. Thankfully, the professional firmly states everything went swimmingly and he can now see you.

Will you look at that? TWO little babies are waiting to meet him!

You're holding one, and the second cutie is placed in his arms and.... There come the waterworks again It was such a natural reaction, he had no time to try and suppress it. Not like he would've wanted to, but the way you "aww"ed at him made him feel a little embarrassed

The twin in his arms reached out and tugged his black strip of hair after it tickled their face, Floyd couldn't help giggle

He can't lie, his arms were shaking the whole time he held the little one. He was scared of hurting them...or dropping them

He wonders how everyone missed the elusive second baby, but he's so happy!! He has two cute kids!! Oh, you're such a wonderful and strong parent! You carried their weight combined and powered through the pregnancy just like that!

He really wants to climb into your bed and hold you so close, but he knows you need rest. Settles for peppered kisses all over your face while uttering "I love you, thank you" in between

While his instincts do tell him to chase away the "dangerous" males away from his newborn kids, Floyd does let his father get close and look at the babies along with his mom. Jade and Azul are a different story, however, he growled at them.

Like Jade, Floyd loves spending time with his twins! His top fav is bathing the twins because he's always eager to see if they will turn into merfolk (spoilers: they do!! And quite early! A few months after their 1st birthday!)

Another thing he loves doing is laying a blanket on the floor and watching his cuties play with their toys and giggle at each other

He tried their baby food once and decided to make homemade baby food from then on. He says he wants his little ones to taste only good things since those prepackaged stuff taste terrible. Just keep an eye on his spice use.

Night necessities are your task though, he does not take kindly to being interrupted in his sleep

He likes reenacting baby photos of him and Jade with his babies

Once his kids get the hang of their mer-form, most of your vacations will be under the sea~

Parenting - Satoru Gojou

I started these when I needed a distraction from my own thoughts lmao. Purely fluffy and light hearted, I hope you don’t mind the little emoticons and whatnot. I just wanted to try something different uwu.

Warning[s]: Pure fluff and possible errors I didn’t bother to check for.

❖ First of all, the moment Gojo hears the news that you're pregnant, he just kinda stares like he had shut down for a moment. Don’t take it the wrong way, his mind is just running in circles, processing the news and then the biggest, brightest smile breaks on his face and you're in his arms, being spun around. No one has probably ever seen him so happy, literally nothing could knock the smile off his face or the budding excitement and swell of love swirling in his chest.

❖ Definitely is the one to keep a copy of the first ultrasound to show off to his students, bragging that the little spec on the paper is his baby. He can't keep a secret like this, it's just too exciting so he has to let it out somehow.. If someone says they can't tell what they're looking at, Gojo will gladly point out his child. 

"Aren't they precious??" 

"You can barely see–"  

(╬ Ò ‸ Ó)

❖ If he wasn't already protective before, Gojo is now like a looming shadow whenever he's home from work. Which he will deliberately take more time off just to be with you. There's no point in arguing with him once his mind is set, he doesn't care if he pisses off the higher ups. You and his baby are the only thing that matters to him. He's always there for you, helping you out in any way in his typical manner. Often says the most random things while aiding you too, like it's quiet and then he's just like: 

"You know the longest pregnancy ever recorded was like 375 days?" 

Leave it to him to look up little interesting tidbits in his free time while you rest. The whole experience is fascinating to him, especially watching you grow and change.

❖ Gojo's hands don't know how to keep to themselves. He was already handsy, but with your growing belly..my word he just loves to rub it and touch it. He can't get over that the life he helped create is in there, his heart had never been so full. 

Also low key finds you even more sexy. Definitely loves spooning so he can hold your stomach gently and roam while he loves up on you. Ugh so tendy unless you want more of course. But he'll always put your comfort first over desire. 

❖ The more you progress and grow, the less you get to do. Gojo doesn't want you to put yourself at risk..for anything. You want something to drink? He'll get it. If he has to go somewhere, one of his students will be with you to aid you. He'll say it's training or some sort of excuse while you just..have to take it or face his pouting self. 

"You know I'm fully capable right?" 

"No you rest, we can't have anything happening to the baby." 

Don't argue, it won't work. But his concern and willingness to do just about anything for you under the sun is absolutely precious 🥺.

❖ On the day your baby comes into the world, Gojo probably cries more than you. It's those silent tears of awe, when his newborn is placed in his hands and that sudden realization that this little life he holds is so vulnerable and his to protect..his heart is already sealed and he's wrapped around their tiny fingers. 

❖ At home, dealing with the nightly duties of parenthood, Gojo really steps up considering he doesn't sleep that much. He isn't too fond of changing times but doesn't complain and really enjoys rocking his baby to sleep after they've been fed. It's so relaxing and he thrives on the tender bonding time.

What's even cuter is if you wake up and find them both; Gojo holding the baby on his chest while his head is leaned back, dozing lightly from the peacefulness. Truly wholesome and your heart melts truly 🥰.

❖ Gojo is definitely the type to always be taking photos of his child. He captures every possible milestone he can manage. He has videos from when they first sat up on their own, finally being able to hold their bottle and even when he thought they said their first word, which was just baby gibberish..but to him it counted and he just had to have it documented. Don't get him started about the day his baby learned to walk, he's never been more proud of them and thankful to finally get rid of the evil walker that rammed his legs more times than he could count.

He will also make sure to have you in most of the moments, even if you're glaring or telling him to stop because you're tired or busy, he just wants to capture memories dammit 😤🥺.

❖ Don't blame Gojo if your child really enjoys sweets. He'll let them try just about anything he buys, finding it humorous if their face twists in disgust or from something potentially sour. He gets a kick out of it but he's more happy when they enjoy the treat and will give it to them..when you're not watching. He has to be extra cautious if it's before dinner, if there's one thing that scares him..it's his beautiful, perfect, loving, wife. 

And yes, he will try to charm his way out of trouble with sweet words and handsy actions. There's just a 50% chance of it actually working hehe.

❖ He likes to say he's the lenient parent because it's true. If your child acts up, he will either encourage them or try his damndest to get them out of trouble. You have to deal with two children and one is unfortunately stuck in an adult's body. Gojo will probably teach your child one or several things that they shouldn't know at their age. Like climbing on something to jump off of or anything that raises immediate concern. While you're off having a panic attack from watching your child literally propel them off something, Gojo is just smiling like a fool.

"They're a natural babe!" 

"What if they get hurt?!?!" 

"You know I wouldn't let that happen."

(¬_¬)

Let's just say after a firm scolding and a promise to ban him to the couch permanently, Gojo will no longer encourage daredevil stunts to his child. Though he is a little sneaky when you're not around. He just has to pray his child doesn't let it slip when you come back or he's a dead man. 

❖ Gojo cannot say no for the life of him. If his child wants anything, consider it theirs. He pays attention to everything when he's out and about with his child. If they linger on a toy, ten to one it'll be in their hands within the hour. Now he knows what not to get them considering they're just a tiny little thing, so he can limit himself. But when he comes home to you, loaded with one too many toys and nothing that you listed, he can't help but give that sheepish smile and melt.

"You know I can't say no to them.."

"Did you get what I asked for?" 

(⌒_⌒;)

It's a good thing he's cute and already leaving to do what he needed to do in the first place. Which left you to go through every little toy, stuffy and whatever else he bought for your child. 

❖ Now when we talk about the first day of school, Gojo is more worked up than his own child. He can't wrap it around his head that his baby, the light of his life is finally leaving the house on a daily basis. It almost feels illegal and you're the one that reassures him that it'll be fine even though you're just as sad. 

Don't mind Gojo, he'll be back to his normal self after an hour after realizing that he has more alone time with you if he isn't busy 😏. 

❖ All in all, Gojo was taken back by the idea of parenthood but as time progressed he became more excited and embraced this beautiful new life. He's protective and light hearted, always making sure his child isn't put through any of the stress he dealt with growing up. And most importantly, he'll love his child unconditionally and make subtle hints about wanting more down the road 😉.

The Bros as Dads

PSA: The boys would be very attractive dads (emotionally and physically). That is all.

Note: the headcanon also includes genders for the kids. I can see some of them having sons, and others having daughters. And, obviously, everyone is older (20′s-ish).

Lucifer

Takes a while to process the news. It’s kind of a big thing. His love life was something of a roller coaster (or nonexistent) until you. The ‘L’ word was a hurdle, now there’s a B word and a P word?!

When his brain realizes what you’ve said or if you show him some proof, the pride takes over FULL SWING (you can feel it explode in him, like his aura) and he purrs

You are truly his stars, his moon, and the heavens he so dearly misses

There’s this raw, vulnerable love in Lucifer’s eyes and it pretty much awes everyone because he’s usually so proper and reserved

The memories are old and dusty but Lucifer’s parenting instincts are strong

A type-A, fussy person. You may have 7 months left before you give birth, but the house will be spotless and perfectly proofed before you hit bed rest

Piles of parenting books suddenly sprout around the house. No one’s sure where they came from or how there’s even that many WRITTEN about parenting.

You and the child become his world. You’re his kryptonite, the only thing to convince him away from long hours or break him out of sour moods

Lucifer is very stressed, more than he thought he’d be, because you’re carrying his child and he worries for your health.

He’s with you every step of the way, from appointments to birth

He’d absolutely drop everything to tend to your needs, or appoint one of the brothers if he couldn’t.

Likes to busy himself with making a nursery and is actually good at themes/interior decorating

Has a tiny desk built in his study. The child won’t be able to join him for a while, but the idea of his tiny joy working on something beside him warms his heart

Hunts down obscure herbs and items from folklore that are supposed to bless pregnancies or benefit the unborn. Turns out he’s really nervous and superstitious.

Lucifer is the worst when it comes to shopping because his pride outweighs his logical restraint. If he convinces himself IN THE SLIGHTEST that his child would look good in something or the nursery could really use an item, it’s coming to the House of Lamentation

He ugly cries when he realizes you’re having a girl because he feels like Lilith has been given back to him.

Refuses to name his child Lilith because of everything that happened. Can’t settle for anything close to her name or any nicknames they gave her.

Makes you a sleeping space in his study. Loves to take breaks to watch you sleep. Unintentionally takes a break to kiss your stomach and talk to the baby.

Firm believer in ‘in the belly’ enrichment so you’ll have music playing and Lucifer will read to them all the time.

If the baby’s not with you, she’s with him. Lucifer has definitely shown up to a meeting with Lord Diavolo with his baby in a chest carrier. The meeting went flat because Diavolo wanted to play with the baby.

He’s the type of dad that demands total silence when the baby’s sleeping. Might have tied up some of his brothers to achieve it.

He’s not a total hard-ass (this kid has made a sucker out of him, okay?) but his kid will definitely have manners and knows to help clean up.

The type to take naps with his kid. He’ll get up at 2 in the morning and climb into their crib if they’re fussy.

Lucifer spent so much of his life being the primary caretaker for his bros that he forgets he’s not alone this time. When you push him back down so he can sleep, and tend to your daughter, his heart almost bursts with love.

On the fence about another child. The kid’s going to have pride in spades and he thinks a sibling will humble them (and make them less lonely). He’s also afraid of that prideful wrath and doesn’t want two prideful little demons always fighting

Isn’t the best with dressing up his kid but likes to give them fancy shoes. The shoes are always on point even if the rest of the outfit is a disaster.

Is 100% ready to receive any and everything “#1 Dad” because he IS, DAMN IT. He’ll use it regularly, too.

Mammon

He’s freaking out hardcore (”You sure? Really, really sure? Maybe you just have gas or something. Y-yeah!”)

Doesn’t believe it until he sees a test. Promptly faints. Dead-ass faints as soon as he sees it.

Kind of remembers it when he wakes up, and you have to remind him again.

This time he’s pretty excited because THE GREAT MAMMON will be having a child. WHAT A GIFT, RIGHT? THE BEST GIFT!

All the magazines are snapping up this gossip and, for once in his life, he puts the earnings away. Kid has a nice fund going before they’re even born.

His schedule is 50% work, 50% family because YOUR MAIN MAN HAS TO BE THERE. Work just pays the bills and pads the nursery account, okay?

The Devildom has something similar to a baby shower and Mammon puts all KINDS of high-dollar shit on there. His baby’s going to be stylin’, okay?

Some crying in front of others, but an entirely different kind of crying behind closed doors. Vulnerable, grateful crying about being loved and having a tiny someone who will love him, too

Pays someone to explain baby stuff to him. How to change them, feed them, what type of breathing you should be doing. It surprised his bros because Lucifer could just give him that info. The fact that Mammon paid for it means he’s pretty serious about learning.

Gets tons of free maternity photos because all his magazines want the scoop. He gets to pamper you and see you all dressed up and beautiful and EVERY magazine has a shot of him crying like a proud sap.

Mammon hoards all of those pictures. Has a pile of them in his room, totally separate from everything else.

Has a lot of nervous energy and can get frustrated with all the baby books, so he distracts himself with scrap-booking. Surprisingly good at it.

Mammon thinks you’re just the most beautiful thing ever. He loves taking pictures of you. Wants the kid to have no doubts about how much he loves them and their parent.

He’s so lovesick. When you sleep or hug your belly or just touch it he melts.

Stacks Grimm on your belly when you sleep. Thinks it’s fun. Likes to record how big the towers get.

Not the best at getting up for your random-hour cravings and has definitely made you cry with his bluntness. When he’s more awake he’ll apologize and you guys will work it out.

When he finds out he’s having a little boy, the bros throw a party. Mammon gets semi-drunk and has a huge, ass-chewing lecture about how the bros made him feel for centuries and how they better not say ANYTHING like that to his kid.

You shot down any and all attempts to name the kid anything money related.

Almost passed out when you had the baby.

Cried when he first held him. Calls him Mamm-mini.

Totally planning the baby’s first photo shoot. Has people on standby to make matching outfits.

He now has a partner in crime and the kid can charm the pants off of anyone!

Mammon is 100% devoted to this kid and he secretly hopes he’s the favorite parent.

Lives for any second of bonding he can get. NEEDS IT TO LIVE. 100% a sappy dad.

The most supportive dad, always saying nice things because he knows people didn’t always say nice things about him.

Levi

Brain stops working. You almost think you’ve given him a heart attack

Levi feels you take the controller from his hand and instantly has to fill it with something else, taking yours. He looks at you and asks you again if you’re sure.

He can see it in your eyes and he just crows. He doesn’t know if he’s excited or scared but he made the noise.

Worries A LOT about the idea of becoming a father. Can gross otakus be good fathers? How does he dad?

Gets pre-stressed about social interactions. Kids have to go to school and have play-dates and Levi’s going to have to talk to people...ugh! Gross!

Definitely has a few break-downs (feelings of inadequacy, etc.) before Lucifer or Satan comfort him. He’s better than he thinks, just insecure. Everyone learns as they go. They have classes (”They’re like cheat codes, Levi.”) and it makes him feel better

His gaming friends send their congratulations and he gets lots of themed blankets and onesies.

Wants you to have a water birth because the water is his child’s calling. Really attached to the idea.

He’s constantly looking up guides to baby-proofing, double- and triple-checking safety specs of anything before buying it.

Spends HOURS scouring Akuzon, comparing brands, and reading reviews for everything.

Akuzon noticed he was buying lots of baby books and looking at baby-related things so they sent him a onesie.

You get a lovely beach/water-themed maternity shoot and Levi is so love-struck he gets a nosebleed. Once he’s cleaned up it makes a darling photo shoot.  

Has already made lists of anime for the kid to watch. Some are his favorite, some are for the lessons and moments that stuck with him

Asmo messaged TSL on the down-low and Levi got some quality kid-sized merch.

Tries to get you to name the baby Henry if it’s a boy. When he finds out it’s a girl, he pushes for Henrietta.

Reads TSL to the baby and plays ocean sounds.

As you get further along in your pregnancy, he buys a fridge for his room and stocks it with your favorite cold stuff. Any snack foods are just added to his stash.

You are absolutely worshipped. Craving something? Akuzon has it and the fastest pig is on it’s way. Your feet hurt? Try a water bath!

You’re his Player 2 now and forever (always have been), and he’s keeping you in perfect health.

Probably keeps a video journal for the kid or of the two of you during your pregnancy. Big on preserving stuff digitally.

Probably makes a game for his kid just because. They’ll be able to play it when they’re older.

Bought a ton of Magical Girl-style hairbows and things for when their hair grows in. His daughter’s a fucking princess, okay?

Belphegor bought the baby a goldfish onesie and Levi loves it to pieces.

Bought the baby a seashell bassinet and rocks them to sleep with his tail.

Levi has a bad sleep schedule and wakes easily, so he’s usually the first one to get up and handle the baby.

He has this complex about being a good dad. People can call him a weird, gross otaku but they’re ALSO going to mention how good of a dad he is!

Super affectionate with his kid in a quiet, whispering, mumbling way. Just thinks they’re the best thing.

Having a daughter really makes him rethink some of the ways he viewed anime characters and made him super critical. If his daughter ends up liking anime he’ll make it very clear what he thinks and how she shouldn’t let other people treat her like an object. 

His demon form gets triggered REALLY EASILY if his bros hold her for too long. THAT’S HIS BABY, THANK YOU!

Satan

Secretly hoped to be a father one day. Wanted to prove so badly that he could be one, and move past the constant fear of his temper looming over him. He didn’t want wrath to be his only legacy.

Can’t manage more than a genuine smile and a lilting laugh when you tell him, but he’s literally almost sick with joy. He’s just not the type to jump from the rooftops or anything

Asmodeus and Mammon convince him into drinking because he needs to let loose and really show it!

Satan ends up drunk-stumbling to Lucifer and plunking his head into his chest and crying. He’s crying because he’s happy and mumbling something about ‘granddad’. When his tears dry he’s happy as can be, smugly calls Lucifer an ‘old fuck’ and promptly throws up.

They’re past most of their bad blood but even Lucifer wasn’t surprised Satan never got EVERYTHING out of his system. A lot of his childhood memories are tainted with pure wrath instead of coming into his cardinal sin through some other mean. Or naturally, like puberty.

Between his personal research and Lucifer’s expertise, the baby-proofing is totally covered.

His book binges are strictly about pregnancies, suspicions, rituals, parenting, and anything he can think of that has to do with kids.

He’s big on teas and brews that are supposed to help with pregnancies and pains. Uses his many connections to get ingredients for said teas

Reads the classics and big epics to his unborn child.

Buys you some Hellcats for protection. They’re fiercely loyal, so he’ll know you’re safe.

He’d be the type to nag you about your diet, but not to be mean. He’d support it with this absolute WALL of evidence that turns into a lecture that could last for hours.

Has to fight the Hellcats to sit next to you or touch your belly a lot more than he thought he would. He’d never say it out loud, but he’s starting to hate the cats (he doesn’t mean it though).

Starts cleaning up his book piles a lot more. The baby would get hurt if the stacks fell on them. His room becomes virtually spotless.

You pick books to read together. You end up reading Satan to sleep, too. He keeps a hand on your belly.

Gets nervous about you wanting to go out, and basically tries to keep you in the House of Lamentation. Relents a little because hormones make you scary. He was basically afraid of nothing because the walks were fine.

You like to sit in the Devildom gardens and he thinks you look picturesque and wonderful. It takes his breath away.

Asmodeus is your personal photographer because Satan doesn’t think anyone else will do you justice.

Finds out you’re having boy-girl twins and totally shuts down. What does he say? How does he respond? BELPHIE OR BEEL WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE TWINS! WHY HIM?!

Lucifer is BEYOND amused. This is definitely payback for everything Satan did in his childhood (so the saying goes).

It doesn’t bother him as much when he starts buying smart little cardigans, button-ups, ribbons, and bowties. He’s actually quite happy.

The Hellcats act weird and tip him off to your contractions before your water breaks. Satan gets you to the hospital and helps you give birth. The twins grow to look more like him than you, but if someone mistakes you for the nanny or says something derogatory, he’s pulling two ferocious kids off an idiot

Satan was afraid he’d be a short fuse, but he becomes the parent that explains everything to death (for better or worse). The kids will get a lecture when they’re bad, when the ask ‘why’ to something, he’ll explain why he gave the punishment he did, and be very clear with anything.

Asmodeus

Quickly falls in love with the idea of you being pregnant. It’s the best! Proof of his truest love, the thing that makes his heart beat!

He loved you to pieces before you were pregnant, and loves you even more now (if that’s possible).

Always wants to be with you, smothering your belly with kisses and touches and looking at it like it’s the next greatest love of his life

Takes names very seriously. “My child is a gift unto this world. People will know their name, so it has to be a good one!”

Gets really wrapped up in decor and aesthetic. He’d be a one-man force for all of it if you didn’t tell him to stop and breathe! Asmodeus just has lots of ideas, okay?

Has a really hard time understanding the value of baby-proofing until Satan smushes a few of his lipsticks in his hand and knocks around some finishing powder (”Now imagine that. All the time. With anything you love.”). 

Hires someone to baby-proof the room because that’s just not his thing. He’ll handle securing the valuables, okay?

Constantly reading about beauty rituals and things to do for his pregnant wife. She’s doing something really hard and deserves to be pampered!

You’ll constantly be pampered or trying ‘this and that’ because he read it was good for the baby. Good for beauty, good for health, etc.

Has a pretty decent diet, himself, and keeps you on yours.

You definitely have pregnancy sex a few times. Anything he can do to help you out, you know?

Asmodeus ADORES watching you grow round with his child and LIVES for helping you take care of yourself. He’ll let you lounge in his fantastic tub and has no issues sitting on the floor and doing your toes

Picks out all your outfits. Wants you to look your best! Don’t worry, you’ll be comfy!

When he finds out you’re having a girl he cries. A lot.

SO MANY BABY UPDATE BROADCASTS ON DEVILGRAM! There is an official ‘baby watch’. It’s trending more than you thought it would.

Takes TONS of videos.

His baby is easily the most fashionable child in all of Devildom.

Takes really candid, private photos that have a lot of sentimental value. A lot of your pregnancy photos are you looking comfy in bed or sitting at a vanity in breezy clothes as he does your makeup.

The type of dad to sit down in the middle of the store to play with toys (are they good enough for his kid? Like, really?). Must feel everything before he buys it. If he doesn’t like how it feels, he won’t buy it.

You end up giving birth earlier than planned and Asmo almost throws up because birth doesn’t look like he thought it would

Super nervous during your pregnancy because you’re in pain and there’s lots of noises.

Busies himself doing your makeup because that’s the only way he can handle the situation. You’re holding his tail and he SWEARS you’re going to break it off!

The bros help deliver his little angel and Asmo is SMITTEN. ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN.

Holding his baby 24/7.

Loses sleep just because he watches them sleep. Sometimes he loses sleep for real because DAMN, babies don’t sleep a lot, do they?

It’s really hard to adjust to and he’s surprised his skin isn’t god-awful.

Doesn’t regret a thing, fawning over their tiny nails and little curls, and OMG EVERYTHING! Cries a lot because they’re just perfect

His wardrobe reflects his dad status but he still looks like a DILF. You can give him the most classic dad attire and it just looks good on him.

Beelzebub

He’s excited about your pregnancy. Boy honestly tried for it, you know? Studied positions and everything.

Beelzebub has so much love and the idea of holding a tiny someone just warms his heart

Everything kid-related is totally foreign to him except for how to act with them. He and Belphie were the youngest so he was used to being taken care of until he got old enough to climb and eat on his own.

The type of guy to need explicit, step-by-step instructions on EVERYTHING. He doesn’t have a brain for it like Satan or Lucifer, so he needs help

Seriously. Give him a checklist for baby-proofing and he’ll get it done.

Gets pretty down about not being able to cuddle and snuggle like normal, but he’ll look into safe ways to do so.

Has special snuggles with the baby. Kisses your belly and rubs it. Talks to your baby like the little demon it is (even if it doesn’t have a name yet).

Lives for the times you talk to the baby, talk yourself out of bed, or how you absently talk to your belly throughout the day.

Works out to deal with stress and nerves, but also because he wants to be a good, strong dad

The doctors give him a list of exercises you can do and he does them with you

Can’t really take the nutrition advice seriously. He eats pretty much everything and you probably will, too.

When people ask him about your pregnancy, he uses very inclusive language (”We’re expecting, etc.”)

You make mini-dates out of your late-night cravings. Beel is totally in love with it.

Beelzebub becomes your food finder. There’s been times where you look at him so cutely, so imploringly, and all you can manage is ‘spicy and crunchy’. He’ll find you something, don’t worry! He’s an expert!

Big on massages and cuddling. Likes to cup his hands over your belly and trace it.

The type of dad to gain weight with you as your pregnancy moves along. Becomes soft, strong dad.

Finds out you’re having twin boys and has the happiest crying session ever. Belphie is the first to know and all Beel can say is ‘Just like us!’ as he nearly crushes his twin to death.

Likes to dress them in cute and comfy clothes. Animal onesies? Yes!

At some point yours twins are going to look like hotdogs and hamburgers. There’s no shortage of food costumes thanks to Levi, Asmo, and Beel.

Suspicious about baby food, bugs Satan about how nutritious it is, and tries all of it just to be sure.

Some of their teething toys look like real food. Beelzebub ate one on accident.

Is a perfect gentle giant. Afraid of hurting them, for they are tiny and precious, but gets over that pretty quickly.

Always wants to cuddle and hold them. You have to make him leave them alone to sleep. Gets kind of sad when they’re napping because he can’t make faces at them or hear them laugh. Right back to his usual self when they wake up, though.

You best believe they learn their alphabet by studying food. Beelzebub will stand in the kitchen and dig through the pantry until he finds things that match the letters of the alphabet 

Belphegor

He’s kind of surprised you ended up pregnant because the sex is usually lazy and casual. Yes, he has the moments where it’s pretty hardcore, but...wow. For some reason, he just didn’t see you getting pregnant.

Secretly hopes you have more than one kid. Something in him would just be happy if there’s more than one kid. You think it comes from the time he spent alone in the attic but never say it.

Sleeps a lot more. Not out of avoidance or anything, but because naps will be rare in the future. He likes to think he’s stockpiling sleep.

Makes sure you’re comfy at all times.

Would love for you to sleep and be cozy but apparently that’s not healthy for humans, so he takes easy walks around the house and keeps you semi-active.

He’ll give you his cow pillow to use as a back pillow. It’s his way of letting the baby use it until he can share it with them.

Listens to a lot of audiotapes about parenting. Looks at books, too, but does better with audio. 

Reads a new bedtime story to your kid every night.

Sometimes you guys sleep in the star room so he can talk to them about constellations. They can’t see anything, of course, but he still goes into detail.

Isn’t much of a picture person and doesn’t see the point in taking maternity pictures. It’s actually because Belphie has a photographic memory so he remembers everything.

The bros force him into taking maternity pictures.

The type to journal everything. He writes a big-ass, super-detailed diary for the baby.

Is kind of worried about his temperament, so he’ll take some classes on how to handle stress and stuff before the babies arrive

Becomes King of Lists. There’s lists for everything. Lists help. Lists are good.

When he finds out you’re having triplets (a boy and two girls), he doesn’t know how to react. You saw him smile though. It doesn’t sink in until you’re hugging him. “I’m never sleeping again,” he realizes with absolute terror.

Beelzebub is super excited. “That’s twins plus a bonus!”

Very snobby about the nursery decor. Also very tactile like Asmodeus. If it doesn’t feel good, it’s not going in the nursery.

Wants a barn-themed nursery (to include as many cow-related things as possible)

You get the comfiest PJs.

With three kids, he lives by embroidery. He has to have a way to tell them apart, after all (the girls, at least).

Can’t hoard the babies but wants to. Hates that he doesn’t have enough arms to hold them all at the same time.

Is very interested by their tendency to hold each other and nap together. Finds it super adorable.

Makes a super-sized crib he can climb in and sleep with them. It’s basically a Belphie-sized bed with little attachments his kids sleep in. Separates them all just enough so he doesn’t worry about hurting them, but there’s still contact

Thanks whatever god exists that they mostly stay on a schedule together. Makes it stressful for changing diapers, but very fun to feed them.

Almost dies laughing when Lucifer holds them for the first time because one vomited on him, the other sneezed in his face, and one pooped so much it got on his pants leg.

Lulls them to sleep with his happy purr, and gets woken up from a dead sleep by pure love when they make the sound back. Suddenly there’s three chirpy purrs rolling against him and he’s in love.

Proud they love their mama so much (to the point of being TOTAL mama’s kids), but also kind of relieved he can breathe.

The three trade off occasionally when they realize he’s free real estate and come to him for snuggles. They all love him so he doesn’t mind.

This house supports cuddle piles! Belphie got them hooked on group naps for a young age and they sleep together now. 

Hope you liked it :)

🧸 Congrats on 50! It is very much so deserved and so are all the future followers! If it’s not too much could I request a fluffy blurb with the one and only Remus Lupin, like a classic friends to lovers awkward and sweet first date shenanigans? Ilyyyy

thank u my beloved anon! <3

i think i’m in love with you. (pt. 1???)

pairing - remus lupin x reader

summary - the good ol’ best friends to lovers trope

warnings - cussing, lots of awkwardness, mentions of underage drinking

a/n - this is vaguely inspired by my ‘you are the kind of boy that they write love songs about.’ spotify playlist— because it’s adorable + has the same vibe

a/n continued; pls let me know if you guys want me to continue this fic to include the date! i honestly think this is just so sweet and cute, and would love to hear some feedback about it :) (might make it a two parter if y’all like it enough!!)

you and remus had been friends since fourth year, and while it wasn’t quite the ‘perfect’ first impression that brought you together, recalling the memory makes you smile nonetheless. most would claim that first impressions are truly everything, but you would beg to differ- seeing as being drenched in pumpkin juice by a very apologetic and slightly aloof boy has now led to one of the best friendships you’ve ever had.

tonight was just an average friday night in the gryffindor dorms as the marauders were hosting their usual ‘study’ night; obviously there was lots of chatter and laughter with an absence of any real studying happening, the name only aided in the fight against being caught by any teachers.

you and remus had claimed the couch whilst lily, james and sirius were scattered about the floor, peter sitting in a chair beside the couch.

glasses in hand, you were all slightly tipsy off of combinations of muggle alcohol that sirius managed to get his hands on, chests feeling as if they were alight. your skin tingled, brain and tongue feeling fuzzy as you laughed along with the others about something that james said.

you looked over at remus and caught him staring at you, you made brief eye contact before he looked away, a bit shy, but you giggled at decided to brush it off.

“you guys will never guess what i got for us tonight.” sirius started, legs slightly wobbly as he stood up. he reached into his pocket and retrieved a vial of veritaserum, “what better way to play truth or dare... then with some of this?”

you all looked around at each-other skeptically, knowing all about what that tiny vial can do to friendships, relationships, and your head. “i say we do it.” james pipes up, a smirk coming to his face. “...unless any of you have something to hide.” he turns to look at you and remus, raising his eyebrows a bit. you and remus turned to look at once another, cheeks darkening as your faces start to heat up. you look away quickly and try to ignore it, again.

ignore that feeling pooling in your stomach. the way your heart begins to flutter when you lock gazes. no, it can’t mean anything, right?

you all eventually give in to sirius’ antics, passing around the vial- everyone taking a shot. you’re the one to finish off the potion, it was an odd taste, your face contorting as you swallow it. not sweet, but not bitter, but also not sour- somehow all three combined to be one of the weirdest things you’ve ever tasted.

you place the glass vial down on the table in front of you, everyone waiting for the potion to take its effect. you sipped on your drink as you waited, hoping the taste of whatever lily mixed up would wash away the taste of the veritaserum.

and soon enough the ‘truth’ serum, as its called, began to work its magic on the rest of the group and yourself. your thoughts began to run- what if i mention the way that remus makes me feel? no, y/n, we’re not doing that tonight, plus no one will ask about it anyways. well, you spoke-thought too soon. everyone knew in some way or another that you and remus each had a thing for one another, so why not play on it when you’re both forced to tell the truth?

lily turned to the two of you with a wicked grin, just finishing up her dare, which you had missed due to the fact that you were consumed by your thoughts. her voice snapped you out of the haze, “so, y/n, truth or dare?” she drawled. both were terrible options. you knew that if you chose dare, you would end up licking someone’s foot or running down the corridor topless. but! truth was all the more terrifying. though, you suppose it’s the lesser embarrassing one of the two.

“truth.” you responded flatly, mumbling under your breath begging the universe to not mention remus. “what’s going on with you and remus, hm? do you like each-other?” her eyes glinted mischievously as she swirled the remnants of the drink in her hand around her cup. you wanted to say ‘nothing!’ but that wasn’t happening, mouth going before mind.

“i think he’s cute, and he gives me this weird butterfly feeling in my chest and sometimes talking to him makes me feel nauseous because i’m so nervous, maybe i think i’m in love with him.” you slapped your hand over your mouth to stop what felt like a stream of verbal diarrhea, eyes widening at what you just said. “shit, fuck. remus, i’m so sorry.” you said turning to him as you stood up.

you could almost cry from the embarrassment, well, that’s what you were doing as you speed walked back to your dorm. you couldn’t stay there, not after that, and you definitely couldn’t face remus. you just told your best friend you were in love with him, for merlins sake! if that wasn’t going to ruin the friendship- no, don’t even go there. that will ruin the friendship.

you launched yourself onto your bed, door shutting behind you. burying your head in the pillows, you just wished the mattress would swallow you so that you didn’t have to face reality. tears were scarce by this point, most of them streaming down your cheeks as you sped away into the hall.

remus was still sitting in the common room, dumbfounded. “shit.” he mumbled, mind completely scattered after your turn. james and sirius turned to him, sympathetically, well as sympathetically as they could until sirius cocked an eyebrow and started to muse, “you gonna go get them lover-boy?”

“yeah-“ he smoothed his hands on his sweater, “i am.” remus stood up and took after you, knowing that you always holed yourself up in your dorm whenever anything upset you. ‘they’re bound to be wrapped in blankets, face in the pillows’ he thought.

and that’s how you were exactly. wrapped in a crocheted blanket, face in the pillows. you didn’t know if you wanted to scream, or cry, or just run away and get a new identity and start a new life at beauxbatons or something as a transfer student.

remus reached your dorm, fist quivering as he started to knock on your door. “y/n.” he called, voice wavering. you sat up, “the doors open, rem.” he peeked in, a goofy grin coming to his face. “there you are.” he chimed, closing the door behind him as he walked in, sitting on your bed beside you.

“you always do that, y’know? whenever you’re upset or embarrassed, you always wrap yourself in that blanket and lay face down. sometimes you scream, or cry, or just end up taking a nap.” he chuckles lightly. “i hope you don’t feel bad about earlier.” remus stares at his feet, tapping one against the hardwood flooring. “i just don’t wanna ruin our friendship with my stupid crush.” you admit, feeling defeated, but he chuckles again.

you turn to look at him and cock your head, “what’s so funny?” you feel even worse, is he mocking you right now? laughing in your face? ouch- remus you absolute douchebag.

but it’s none of that, “well, y/n, to put it plainly, i think i’m in love with you too.” he stops his foot, looking up at you. your eyes meet, hearts both racing. “oh.” is all you can manage. his eyes dart back to the floor, “would, uh” he clears his throat slightly, “could i kiss you? maybe? would that be okay?” remus’ face starts to turn pink, a colour that you always thought complimented him quite well.

“yeah. that would be fine.” you replied, breathlessly. him saying that completely winded you. he gently placed his pointer finger under your chin, thumb bumping against your bottom lip as he leaned in. your eyes fluttered shut as you met him in the middle, lips brushing. it took everything in you not to just die then and there.

you bumped noses a few times throughout the kiss, giggles filling the room as you both pulled away- feeling the same breathless feeling once more. “so, this isn’t gonna ruin our friendship, right?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips. “of course not, if anything, now i just want you to be my best-friend AND my partner.”

“that would be lovely, rem.” you smiled even wider, pulling him in for another kiss.

maybe this whole awkward and messy confession wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“Vivienne x Mc, where Mc gets injured and falls unconscious and later Vivienne taking care?“

Pairing with:

Mc x Vivienne - QoT Mc was really close to an explosion during a heist, causing her to permanently loss her hearing. You can include the other members too because I want to see how will they handle future heist when one of their has been injured, how does Vivienne react? Will she let mc continue or not? And how does mc feel? Does she feel she cannot as much as before lost her hearing?

HEY... how do you think Vivienne would deal with a deaf MC? im deaf myself 😳😳 headcanons work if they're easier!

QOT MC gets caught up in the blast from one of Jett’s explosives, and now has severe burns acrros her face and other parts of her body along with slight deafness. Could I get a fic of Vivienne comforting her, and telling her she’s still beautiful? Thanks!

…

Warning: Writer’s first time writing a hard of hearing character.

TW: Panic attacks. Mentions of injury. Mentions of scarring.

Introspection-heavy fic.

…

The explosion was one of Jett’s finest work up to date.

Vivienne could feel it rattle her very bones, even though she was quite a distance away. The building crumbled easily and readily, becoming nothing but a sour-tasting memory. She nodded approvingly, letting out a small sigh in relief. There it went, up in smoke, all the incriminating evidence Benicio had gathered on them. And, as a bonus, most of his fake career.

“Ha! That was amazing!” Jett laughed, his voice bright with happiness, high with adrenaline. The rest of the Poppy soon joined in, albeit in less boisterous chuckles.

Coming down from the building she was in was child’s play. She abandoned Benicio’s unconscious body for the authorities to find, humming to herself as she made her way over to Leon, just barely paying attention to the conversation of the rest of the Poppy.

It doesn’t take long for her to notice that something is wrong. That something is missing.

She balances on top of the balcony she’s on, dread creeping over her body like lead, making her feel sluggish.

“Has anyone heard MC?”

The idle chatter stops. Vivienne can feel the shift in the atmosphere, can practically hear it become tense and chilly.

Amidst the muttered ‘no’ of the rest of the members, Zoe’s voice sounds surprisingly clear, a tinge of panic and worry that makes Vivienne lurch forward, desperate to reach the ground. “I lost her signal. Something must have happened!”

“But Benicio is out cold this time-”

“Nadia backed off, right? She couldn’t have-”

“And there is no way Francesca would-”

“Maybe,” Jett’s voice sounds hesitant, an echo of his usual self. “She got… caught by the explosion.”

Remy scoffs. “There’s no way that could have happened, MC knew the dangers!”

“Keep an eye out for the police, Zoe. We need to look for her,” Nikolai commanded, his voice as cold and hard as steel, immediately cutting through the panicked chatter.

Vivienne lets her teammates handle the distractions to stall the police a bit longer, her mind set only on making sure MC was all right. She hadn’t felt so frightened since everything that happened with Isadora, and she refused to let anything even remotely similar happen again. She couldn’t lose anyone precious to her. She couldn’t. One more person, and her soul would have been shattered beyond repair.

Not to mention, the whole issue with Benicio was her fault in the first place. If MC got hurt… god, if she got hurt…

“Ambulance! Can someone call an ambulance?”

Her head whipped around, eyes wide. There was a man shouting desperately a few meters away, making frantic motions to something behind him. Mouth dry, Vivienne relayed the situation to the rest of the Poppy. Her legs felt like jelly. She wondered if she’d crumble into an unrepairable mess when she got close enough, but no such thing happened. She moved forward as if possessed, dropping to her knees near two bodies. One was a small child, and the other was MC, cradling the child as if she was trying to protect him from the entire world.

They were both unconscious. Vivienne’s eyes trailed MC’s exposed skin, painted an angry red down to its very core, from her left shoulder down to her thigh. Her clothes were ruined, charred beyond recognition, sticking to MC’s body like a second skin. Vivienne’s first instinct is to throw her cape over her, just to cover the burns. Her hands are shaking so bad it proves to be quite the difficult task.

The child MC is holding seems fine, his burns less severe than MC’s, which eases Vivienne’s worry somewhat.

Jett was right. She had been caught up in the explosion.

…

“I had to pull a lot of favors to erase our trail, but at least the police won’t find us for a while. We can lay low while MC recovers.” Zoe informed them, a few nights later, exhaustion sipping from her like water out of a waterfall. Nikolai is in a similar state, sitting near Zoe by the couch, one hand covering his face and the other gripping his knee so tightly his knuckles are almost white.

“And the boy’s father?”

“He’s been trying to locate MC, but I don’t think we should worry about him. As for the boy, he’s much better than MC. His hearing wasn’t as affected, either. She really saved him…”

“Then again, if it hadn’t been for him, MC wouldn’t be like this in the first place.” Vivienne icily mutters, tightening her hold over her glass of wine. Nikolai and Zoe just give her a glance, too tired to pick a fight with her. “If he hadn’t rushed in recklessly-”

“He was scared, Viv.” Remy says, from somewhere in the kitchen. “He wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Vivienne’s scowl deepens. “Yes, but who runs into danger? You’d think the fire alarm would have gotten him to run the other way.”

“Someone who didn’t know there was going to be an explosion, that’s who.”

The seductress growls, a dark expression over her face, bitter frustration raging inside her like a chemical reaction about to explode. It just doesn’t make sense. Everything that boy had done that day was simply moronic, and MC – the angel she was, putting others before herself as she often did – had suffered dearly for it. The burns would leave scarring, no doubt; they had become angry red lines and spots that Vivienne mapped with a careful touch every time she had to apply the ointment the doctor had recommended. She had to watch how MC flinched at the contact, how she bit back a cry of pain, hiding it behind a shuddering smile and glistering brown eyes.

Vivienne couldn’t stop thinking about her expression. About how everything had changed, suddenly and without warning, all because of a boy. She can’t help but think about what Remy says and seethe in anger at the sheer absurdity of the boy’s actions, but she decides to stay quiet. The last thing the team needs is another fight.

Zoe speaks again after a few moments, voice soft.

“How is Jett?”

“He hasn’t left MC’s side,” Vivienne answers, after taking a deep breath. “His guilt is practically eating him alive.”

Zoe gives the couch a mournful, exhausted look, but gets to her feet nonetheless. “I’ll go check on him.”

No one blames Jett.

Ever since she had regained consciousness, MC’s sole focus had been on him. Vivienne didn’t mind. It felt relieving to walk inside her room and find them close, enjoying life, doing Art Club activities or laughing over some funny meme. Or, well, trying to. Jett’s laugh was muted, worried, tinted with sadness and regret; it was a sound that haunted Vivienne wherever she went, something that mirrored her own conflicted feelings. MC’s laugh was restrained and also wistful and a little distant. Sometimes she grimaced in the middle of it, her happiness crumbling in a burning flash of pain that made Vivienne’s heart clench and drop.

But they were trying. They were doing their best.

They would get through this. They all would.

…

Changes are inevitable. MC stands through it all like a stubborn rock holding its ground against a current, taking everything in stride. Vivienne had always found the artist fascinating, a fantastic enigma that Vivienne had foolishly thought she had cracked a long time ago.

MC always surprised her. After everything, Vivienne couldn’t help but feel awed by her. True, the first few weeks were hard, but MC had accepted her condition sooner rather than later, while Vivienne still cautiously danced around it, not sure what to think or feel or do.

MC had lost 65% percent of her hearing due to the explosion. Her left ear was slightly better, only at 50%, but the doctor had warned them she would lose more as the years went by. And while Vivienne had once again thrown herself into a bitter spiral of resentment against the boy, that damned boy, MC had pursed her lips with a determined expression and thrown herself into learning sign language and working around everything.

Everyone had agreed early on that MC couldn’t participate in heists anymore. She’d still be their forger, of course, but she’d stay with Zoe when the heist was underway.

“It’d be too dangerous,” MC had admitted, distractedly playing with the hem of her black jacket. She had this solemn look in her eyes, hollow and heavy with resignation, but it wasn’t defeated. It had this quiet intensity to it, like a volcano about to erupt; no one had dared to say anything as she explained. “I can’t even tell where sounds come from anymore, so I wouldn’t react properly to a threat.”

Vivienne couldn’t really wrap her mind around it. MC had described sounds as muted, fuzzy, distant, as if there was a giant wall of glass between her and the world, and on top of it she was underwater. Sounds simply became a cacophony in the background, nothing for MC to really pick apart. It was disorienting, at first, mostly because Vivienne hadn’t really fully processed everything yet.

Sometimes she would turn towards MC with her usual flair and dramas, all but spinning on the chair of her vanity like the typical movie villain, only to find MC engrossed on her work and not aware at all of the dramatic sigh Vivienne had delivered not two seconds ago. That was, perhaps, the biggest change. It didn’t take long for Vivienne to get used to it, no, but there had been something special in calling MC’s name from across the room and watching her reaction unfurl, be it an amused smirk or a heated stare.

MC carried on, not considering her hearing loss a disability at all. It made things different, but not impossible, something Vivienne had irrationally feared in the beginning. She loved MC and everything that entailed, be it scarring or hearing loss or grumpiness or that annoyingly stubborn personality of hers. There was no in-between, no extremes. There weren’t moments where Vivienne had loved her more or less. One day she had woken up to realize she had fallen hopelessly in love and she had never quite managed to get back up after that.

So these changes? Vivienne would accept them. Welcome them. No matter what.

…

The hearing aids helped. A bit.

MC had put them on, frowned for a second, and then beamed at Vivienne saying: “Oh, I can tell your voice apart from all the sounds now!” And that was it. No magically being able to hear everything again, no magically being able to pick apart the words. There was just a vague tone piercing a muted world, an anchor making lip-reading easier, but nothing else. Zoe had looked. Oh, how had she looked, but that was it. Everyone had accepted that. MC was just happy to her their voices again, however fuzzy they were.

Now, Vivienne could actually come sashaying into the room and call out to MC, and MC would look up and search for her – she still had a hard time telling where the sounds came from – and then roll her eyes with a fond smile at her girlfriend’s antics.

Something Vivienne had discovered about hard of hearing people: they listened. No, really. Somebody else would be distracted by something that happened around them, or would look at their phone or watch or hands or anything else before rejoining the conversation. Small things, really. MC didn’t do those anymore. Her attention was solely focused on whoever was speaking, watching their lips, interpreting their words. Or watching the signs, the body language, everything she could do to figure out what was going on and answer accordingly.

It was only at night that MC confided how difficult and exhausting and frustrating lip-reading was. The Poppy made an effort to sign, they had all gotten quite good at SSE, but sometimes they would go out and encounter somebody that didn’t know how to sign or somebody that wasn’t aware of what had happened to MC. It was all sort of situations, but MC took in stride.

“Baby?” MC’s drowsy voice cut through Vivienne’s thoughts. The pronunciation was a bit off, but charmingly so. MC had been horrified when Zoe commented on it, trying to correct it as soon as possible, but privately Vivienne didn’t really see why she worried so much over it. Her voice was beautiful no matter what. Or maybe Vivienne was just far too whipped. Hm.

She smiled against MC’s skin, feeling the heat of it call out to her like a siren’s song. She shifted a bit, so she could rest her head over MC’s chest, snuggling under the covers. It was a cold night, after all.

“Yes?” She mumbled, internally screaming in joy over the pet name. The vibration of her voice was all MC needed to know she was awake.

“I don’t think I’m up for seeing Jace tomorrow. Think we could reschedule?”

Vivienne hummed, toying with the thought. “I think so.” She finally drew the words on MC’s skin. Her fingers slid over the charred, dry zone that had been burned and she frowned a little, wondering if she should apply more ointment in the morning.

“Great.” MC said, softly. “And… we could… maybe we could watch a movie? There’s a new one that just began airing – I’ll ask Zoe for a subtitled version tomorrow.”

“Lovely.” Vivienne drew back.

“I love you.”

The little heart that was the seductress’ reply tingled in MC’s skin like invisible ink, pure and happy and warm like the first few rays of the sun, something that would linger for many days to come.

…

In the morning, as she had been doing this past month, the first thing she did when she woke up was straddle MC under her.

MC blinked owlishly, staring at her with a soft smile. She let Vivienne move over her, sighing contently at the soft touches from her lover. Vivienne made sure to stay in sight, so MC could see her lips.

With all that done, Vivienne began her worship.

Her hand cupped MC’s cheek, tracing the cheekbone down to the soft angle of her jaw, adoring. Long fingers then glided over her throat, down, down so she could move over her collarbones, one hand to the right, one to the left.

One hand slid over smooth, soft silk, while the other traveled against rough and dry edges carefully. MC’s eyes shifted at that, always hesitant over the marred skin, and Vivienne leaned down to place a kiss just above where the burns had been, as reverently as an astronaut would kiss the ground after months away from the Earth. She hovered there for a few seconds while her hand moved from MC’s shoulder to her side, finally coming to rest over her hip.

“You are beautiful.” She mouthed, leaning back. MC’s eyes flickered to her lips, catching the words, her smile stretching just a little bit more.

Vivienne continued, leaving a trail of kisses over that side, as she often did.

“These tell a story,” she said, and MC listened, brows knitted in concentration. “Of a brave woman that was too caring, and of a silly boy.”

MC starts to shake her head, aware of Vivienne’s resentment, but Vivienne is quick to place a finger over her lips to shush her.

“A silly boy,” she repeated, and for once her voice carried no venom. “That would have had a much difficult condition had that brave woman not intervened. These scars tell a story… and its outcome, filled with obstacles and changes and that one stubborn woman in the center of it all. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more determined in my entire life. But here you are, MC, here you are…”

She shudders with delight, her smile widening even more. One of her hand comes up to rest over Vivienne’s heart, to feel the vibrations of her voice.

“A warrior, an angel. You are the sun my thoughts spin around, always, forever. You came into my life and gave me a reason to become the woman I am today. You are always so optimistic, so breathtakingly beautiful, with you I-” Vivienne cut herself off, remembering to breathe, to pace herself. MC gave her a grateful nod, her expression soft with affection. “With you I feel like I might soar. You’ve taught me so much. You’ve taught me how to be accepting. To accept mistakes. To not run from them. And now, you’ve taught me the importance of not giving up. I admire you, you know?”

Vivienne looked at the scars again.

“The story these tell… It’s awe-inspiring. I’ll look at them every morning and remember how strong you are. Beautiful isn’t perfect skin and perfect hearing. It isn’t daring heists and life on the edge. Beautiful is you, are you are now.”

The kiss they share is gentle, loving, pure.

The Queen Makes Her Choice: Part 6

This is the final chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys. This might be the filthiest thing I've ever written 😂

This whole series is for those 18+ only.

Catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Miracle finder makes it impossible to see anyone, and even if it hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter.

Gavin is on a mission, Victor is on a trip, Kiro is on tour, and Lucien…

…well, Lucien isn’t replying, or posting, or commenting.

No surprise there.

I have no idea if he’ll show on Saturday even though the rest of them will be there. I’ve booked us a private room in one of Loveland’s hottest “sky clubs” - a lounge located at the top of a high rise with nothing but large glass windows and views for days to accompany the drinks and people.

It was a splurge on my salary, but I have to do this right.

If I do this right well...

...maybe there's hope of keeping them all by my side.

There’s still no reply from Lucien as I get ready an hour before everyone is supposed to meet. I decide to tell him that I need him there, and let that be the end of it.

I don’t have much in my closet for this event, but buried in the back I find an old clubbing outfit from my birthday two years ago. The top is an iridescent blueish-purple with spaghetti straps, a revealing back, and cropped to show my midriff. I pair it with a flowy dark skirt that balances out its sex appeal, tying my hair back, and putting on a simple necklace to show off my neckline.

I feel pretty and knowing that I’m about to meet four (well, hopefully four) men who have all confessed to me, I feel confident that they will too.

—

I arrive early and finish my drink too quickly in the hopes of calming my nerves. The waitstaff gets me another and I tell myself to cool it for fear of getting too drunk before they all arrive.

The room I’ve reserved is bigger than I expected, with seating that could easily accommodate 25 people. There are standing cocktail tables and ink blue couches that have a soft, velvet fabric accompanied by tables for drinks.

I’ve settled into the center of one of the couches and I’m distracting myself on my phone, hoping that my nerves will fade when I hear the door open.

I’m surprised that its Lucien who I see first.

“I didn’t think you were coming?!” I say.

He kisses me before sitting next to me, looking around the room.

“I wasn’t sure if I would.”

“But why?”

He sighs and shakes his head, smiling.

“Too much thinking. Too much worrying.”

I have more questions, but I won’t get to ask them as Victor enters next. Upon seeing Lucien I can see his defenses go up. He puffs out his chest, tilts up his chin sneering at him, making no attempt to hide what can only be described as a very sour expression.

I get up and stand between them, gently taking Victor’s hand and guiding him to sit beside me on the couch. Sandwiched between him and Lucien, I thank him for coming. The mood only grows more tense with each addition.

Gavin is next.

Kiro is last.

It’s clear that they all thought I had planned something for them and them alone based on the disappointment I see on their faces when they register their competition in the room. Once they’re all assembled, Lucien and Victor on either side of me, Gavin pouting with his arms crossed and standing by one of the cocktail tables and Kiro who paces like a wild animal in a cage, I begin.

“I know you’re all eager to understand what this is about,” I say. “And I first want to thank you all for being in my life.”

There are gruff acknowledgments all around, but no real words or statements from anyone. I can tell by the way they’re drinking and refilling their glasses that they’re just as nervous as I am, and not wanting to drag things out I continue.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want in my partner, and I keep coming back to daily life. Waking up next to someone I love each morning, making breakfast, hearing about their day…”

It’s then I look at each of them, one by one.

“…and I’ve come to the conclusion that none of you can do that for me.”

“Now wait a minute,” Gavin starts to say and I cut him off.

“You’re always gone on some mission for God knows how long.”

I turn to look at Lucien, “You disappear on me at the drop of a hat…”

Then Victor, “…you spend 50% of your time doing business outside of Loveland City….”

And finally Kiro, “…and you’re on tour for the foreseeable future.”

They all seem bashful because they know I’m right.

They all know they couldn’t be 'the one' unless they all made major concessions for me.

“So I think for now, until things change, I will commit to none of you and all of you.”

There’s shock from Gavin.

Laughter from Victor.

Annoyance from Kiro.

Anger from Lucien.

Gavin quickly spits out “That’s…” but Victor cuts him off.

“Only fair. None of us can really run to her side when she needs us, but between the four of us we can take care of her.”

I’m stunned that he actually agrees, not just understands.

I thought that out of the four he might be the most difficult to convince, but suddenly I’m watching as he argues with Kiro about what it means to love me. Lucien is silent, along with Gavin. They listen as they wrestle with what they already know about our world to their ability to accept being a part time boyfriend.

There’s silence when Victor reminds them aloud of the danger I face.

Being with me is not just being there for the good times, though I’m grateful that lately there’s been many. This time of peace may disappear just as easily as it arrived and they all know it, even if they don't want to admit it.

I’m surprised when Gavin is the second to agree to keeping things as they are, with the caveat that I not think about anyone but him when we’re together. I find myself feeling shy and can feel the heat creep into my cheeks as I nod back at him, knowing that his request is easily fulfilled.

Satisfied by my reply he smirks before making it known that he doesn’t want to discuss things further and will invite me on a date soon, leaving me with the others.

I can tell that Kiro is close to compromising, but Lucien beats him to the punch.

“Alright,” he says with that smile of his. “This just gives you more time to decide that you love me most.”

The comment makes Kiro look as if he’s going to rip Lucien’s head off, and he charges towards him. Victor puts his hand out and holds Kiro back, reminding him that this is not about how they feel about each other but how they feel about me.

Lucien quietly laughs and whispers in my ear, “I will try sticking around in the future in order to prove to you that I’m all you need, if that’s truly what you’re looking for.”

“It is,” I say.

I’m not lying, but for now I’m relieved to have found a loophole.

I’m relieved that it seems I will not have to choose after all.

“While I don’t like the idea of leaving you with these two, I must be off to a prior commitment. I only meant to stop by because you were insistent. And because I will always be there for you, despite what you may think.”

He’s being mysterious but I can tell whenever we’re together he can’t help but be pulled back to me as much as he tries to run away.

I can tell that he looks for excuses to be with me, even when he's busy.

“Thank you Lucien,” I say and mean it.

I’m grateful that I don’t have to say goodbye, especially to him.

I’m surprised when he kisses me, deeply, in front of the others and I can feel that his eyes are on them as he does it, almost as if he’s challenging them.

When he pulls away I watch as Victor rolls his eyes as Kiro grows incensed again. Lucien pretends not to care and leaves, ignoring the string of obscenities that flows out of Kiro.

“Enough,” Victor eventually says, sighing and returning to the couch next to me.

“I understand why we’re doing what we’re doing,” Kiro says, still standing. “But doesn’t it bother you seeing that?”

“No,” Victor says coolly. “It only motivates me to please her more.”

I feel his hand wrap around my midriff and he kisses me, passionately, in front of Kiro. I let out a surprised moan and after a moment he pulls away with a smirk.

“See?”

I’m embarrassed and I quietly scold him for kissing me like that in front of Kiro. Not to be outdone, Kiro comes over and kisses me too. I can taste the cocktail on him and the wine on Victor and between the alcohol and their touch I realize that I feel a bit light headed.

As Kiro kisses me, I feel Victor’s hand travel under my skirt and up my thigh. He starts rubbing me and I moan, prompting Kiro to deepen his kiss, moving his hands from my face to my neck and then chest. When he pulls away, Victor capitalizes on the opportunity and kisses my neck as he slides one of his fingers into me.

I can tell they’re both more intoxicated than they’d ever admit, and to be honest, so am I.

Sober me would have stopped this but drunk me is flying high on everything that is happening. It feels too good to worry about the waitstaff walking through that door, and I close my eyes knowing that Kiro is watching Victor play with me, eagerly awaiting his turn.

He’s impatient though, and my top comes off leaving me fully exposed to both the men and the city beyond the large glass windows. I feel myself reaching for both of them, to make them feel as good as they’re making me feel and I feel Victor’s other hand unbutton his pants.

--

What happens next is a bit of a blur.

It’s almost as if I come back to myself, stripped bare and breathing heavily on a couch that isn’t mine and in a lounge where anyone could have walked in at any moment. I see the two men next to me, panting and satisfied on either side, tucking their shirts back in as they return to a disheveled version of the men that appeared earlier in the night.

I will pretend that I don’t remember bouncing on top of Victor as I sucked on Kiro. I will pretend that I won’t remember finishing both of them on my knees, with my hands and my mouth before letting Victor finish me with his mouth while Kiro watches on, all the while stimulating my other sensitive spots.

I will pretend I don’t remember Victor playing with time to drag out my pleasure when it finally comes, and that I do not giggle when Kiro whines, “Oh come on, that’s just cheating…”

When the waitstaff finally do enter, we are all fully clothed and in the process of sobering up with cold glasses of water. I worry that the room reeks of sex and that they know what happened, but it would appear that they are none the wiser.

Victor grabs the tab that I was supposed to pick up and pays for everything, leaving just as much in tip before saying to us, “Let’s get out of here.”

On the street we are silent - the cold air sobering us to the reality that lies beyond.

“Do you mind if I take her home?” Victor asks Kiro politely, and I’m surprised when Kiro shakes his head.

“I have to catch an early flight for our next leg of the tour.”

“You’ll keep in touch, right?” I ask, almost scared that the greediness of my actions will catch up with me, but Kiro just smiles his bright, pop star smile.

“Of course Miss Chips. Until we meet again.”

He kisses me sweetly, and neither he nor Victor seem to care that the other is present for this moment.

He leaves and Victor takes my hand, slowly walking me back home.

We’re silent for a few blocks before he starts chuckling out of seemingly nowhere.

“What?!” I demand.

“You continue to surprise me.”

I look at him, puzzled as to what he’s talking about and he continues.

“I’ll have to come up with a new contract to ensure I get at least one fourth of your time.”

He’s teasing me, but I know him well enough to know that he’s actually impressed at how I’ve managed to get what I want despite how things are usually done. He’s known from the start that I haven’t wanted to say goodbye.

That I’m not ready to.

There’s kindness in what he’s saying, and it’s not lost on me. As much as I know he wants me for himself, he won’t rush me.

He loves me too much to do that.

They all do.

The topic changes quite naturally and before I know it we’re chatting as if our salacious night never happened. He’s mocking me for being a glutton and I’m pretending to be outraged that he’d call me such.

I invite him in because I’m back faster than I expected and to my disappointment, he refuses me.

“LFG calls,” he says, and I can tell he’s disappointed too.

“Ok. Thanks for walking me home.”

He smiles and kisses me and just as I turn to open the door to my building and head inside, he grabs my arm.

“But now that I know what you want, soon enough you won’t have this excuse to keep the others around…”

He lets go and turns on his heel, not glancing back and walking away with the kind of confidence and swagger I know only he posses. My heart races as I watch him turn the corner and out of my sight before turning in.

—

I shower the night off of me and change into cozy pajamas, crawling into bed. I have four messages, one from each of them, all wishing me good night and reminding me that this is for now.

“One day work won't consume my life,” Victor repeats.

“One day I will prove to you that I can stay,” Lucien says.

“One day my mission will be complete,” Gavin promises.

“One day it will only be us,” Kiro muses.

One day.

But until that day, I will savor having all them in my life.

And I will love them all as much as they love me, for as long as I’m allowed.

--

This was fun to write and *very* out of my comfort zone. As always, if you’ve enjoyed the story, please show your support by sharing it with a friend, liking it, commenting to say that you enjoyed it/what you liked, or buying me a coffee!

While this is most likely the last installment of this short series, if you like my writing I hope you'll follow me for more in the future.

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congrats on 50 followers!! I literally adore your knifetrick stuff you write them so well :D for a prompt, i first thought of either spyglass or greenhouse. it can be ran or jackie pov, and preferably light hearted?? but go wherever it takes u <3 congrats again this is a v cool thing u are doing!!

here you go ^_^ this isn't really light-hearted sorry but i wouldn't call it angst (sort of the in between area?) so i hope u like it!!

Jackie’s been disappearing during lunch breaks. Not that him and Ran have been talking much anyways. Ever since everything happened they’ve been taking a distant approach. Spending time together during the training sessions – trying to project a professional relationship for the recruits – and that’s it.

Because Jackie, miraculously, doesn’t want him dead. He doesn’t even want him out of the castle or the army. Which means they can’t exactly tell people why they’re suddenly distant. It was an incredibly awkward conversation, going over the exact details. Jackie was tense – his face practically unreadable. And Ran was feeling so much all at once (both physically and emotionally) that he’s just glad he made it through the conversation without throwing up.

And Ran’s sure some of the more observant recruits know something’s wrong. They haven’t mentioned anything yet, thankfully. They came up with a cover story in case anyone pried past the vague excuse of “we had a falling out”, but he doesn’t really want to put it to the test anytime soon.

What Ran isn’t sure of is whether Jackie is leaving during lunchtimes because of him. Because that doesn’t seem right. Ran’s the one that’s intruding in Jackie’s space. So he’s the one that should leave during lunchtimes. It’s going to be another incredibly awkward conversation but those couple of uncomfortable seconds is better than Jackie being uncomfortable for long period of time daily.

Ran just needs to catch Jackie before he leaves.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Yeah?”

“Um, I just…” Right. He’s not sure how to word it. Because he’s working on a lot of assumptions. And if Jackie has taught him anything it’s that his assumptions aren’t always accurate. “Do you want… me to leave? So you can stay?”

Jackie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, the skin between them crinkling. Ran gets the urge to reach out and smooth the skin. He hopes Jackie doesn’t notice his hand flinching as he barely restrains himself from doing just that.

“No, I just found this cool greenhouse.” Jackie shrugs. “’S nice to eat in.”

“Oh.” Ran nods stiffly. “Okay.”

“Do you want to, uh…” Jackie tugs at the bottom of his jumper. “Want to come with me?”

“Do you… want me to?”

Jackie shrugs again. “Yeah sure.”

“Alright then.”

The walk to the greenhouse is mostly silent. Every now and then Jackie will make a comment and Ran will respond and then the conversation will die out.

Ran can’t say he’s ever been to a greenhouse. But Overworld plants fascinate him. There’s so many different types – Terminus only has chorus trees. And he’s seen a lot of the Overworld plants before. But he’s not sure whether them being in a greenhouse will be a separate experience.

At the very least it should be nice. If the awkwardness with Jackie doesn’t sour it.

“Well,” Jackie says with a mix of false cheer and real cheer, “here we are.”

He swings open a door and leads Ran out into the greenhouse.

It’s massive. It’s beautiful. It looks like the front sections are dedicated to the smaller bush flowers and fruits, while the larger ones tower up behind them – some reaching the roof. Along the sides of the walls are vine plants, some so thickly tangled you can’t see the wall behind them.

Ran’s snapped out of his reverie when he hears Jackie’s laugh.

“Sorry, sorry.” Jackie holds his hands up in mock defence, but there’s something fond in his eyes. “It’s just… sweet. You’re sweet.”

Ran turns away, not sure how to respond to that.

“It’s beautiful.” He says instead.

Jackie walks past Ran to where a makeshift bench has been set up in the middle of the rows and gestures for him to follow. They sit down and Jackie starts taking out his lunch.

“Now you know why I keep sneaking out here.”

“I would too.”

“Well, you can if you want.” Jackie’s says, voice casual. Ran’s not sure whether Jackie isn’t looking at him because he’s focusing on his lunch or if he’s purposefully avoiding his gaze. He’s not sure what he’d do if he knew.

“I mean-“ Ran takes a page out of Jackie’s book and carefully stares down at his meal. “It’s sort of… your thing.”

“It could be our thing.”

And if Ran had an ounce of psychic ability, he would be able to feel Jackie cringing at his own cheesiness. Fortunately for Jackie, he doesn’t. Even more fortunate, Ran isn't the kind of person to recognise whether something is cheesy or not.

“If-“ Ran tugs at his earring for something to do. (He’s not about to start eating during a conversation.) “If you don’t mind…”

Jackie nudges him. So Ran looks up to meet Jackie’s gaze. Sees the softness of his smile and the overwhelming honest fondness in his eyes.

“Of course I don’t. I think it’ll be nice.”

Ran thinks maybe he’s been forgiven. Properly forgiven; not the makeshift version he was given after the warehouse. He’s not sure why. It’s barely been a month. But Jackie’s opening up to him – Jackie’s trusting him – and Ran’s not about to throw it back in his face just to continue to wallow in self-pity.

“Thank you.” And he hopes Jackie knows he means for more than just the new lunch spot. “I’d love to.”

Hey, I have an ask for Elliot struggling with disordered eating. Love you for keeping up with the gender neutral fics, not too many of those around.

notes: this was a little harder for me because i currently struggle with a disorder like that and at first i didnt want to do it, but i think itll be good for me WC: 1.3k

Warning: Obviously, this has eating disorders and general bad stuff going on. Read at your own risk, you know the deal.

+

Every now and then, just every now and then, the signs start to pop up. They worry you incessantly for about a week, but they go away fast. Things return to normal. He shows no remembrance of his strange behavior, or at least he denies his behavior was strange in the first place. It keeps coming up though––he'll stop eating, stops dead and claims he's too busy to remember. He stretches his hands towards the ceiling and his sweatshirt rides up, and you can't help but to notice the visibility of his ribcage. The accent of his collar bones. Usually the sight of them has you yearning to kiss him––now though, sickness wells in your stomach, and it feels as though you're taking on his hunger so he won't have to experience it. A buffer between Elliot and the real world.

You can't really take him to a doctor though. It's not a diagnosable problem, it's just––it worries you. Elliot maintains a pretty standard form of body throughout these waves of eating habits, so there shouldn't be an issue. He has it under control, according to him, but sometimes it gets bad, and you have no idea why. Does he have body issues? Is he legitimately just forgetting to eat?

The knife in your hands––freshly sharpened that morning––easily peels away the skin of the round pear, large in your outstretched palm. Generally you try to stay away from knives, as you have a nasty habit of frequently slipping up and cutting yourself, but your strokes are slow and methodical. A long line of yellow peel falls from the pear in one, curly stroke that you maintain for the whole of the fruit. When you cut it into slices juice runs down your fingers. You lick it away and clean everything up, only then taking the plate to Elliot, who is typing furiously on the computer.

Not once have you ever known what the hell it is he does on his computer all day. He even talks about it, but you just don't understand all the tech jargon, and he's surprisingly alright with that. To him, it means he can talk and talk about everything and you'll never leave for the horrid things he's done.

"Not hungry," he says, and his unused voice is barely audible above the clicking keyboard.

"You also haven't eaten in two days," you say softly, pushing the plate ever so slightly closer to him.

Two days––you counted, watched him carefully, but he didn't notice. He never does.

He says nothing and doesn't take any of the fruit. They're special, too––you had to go down to the Asian market to get them, and that's an hour drive in the city traffic. More than anything you feel useless––useless to help him, to understand him, useless to him. You could cry, but you don't. Not in front of him. He's never seen you cry and you're not about to let him see.

Instead you leave him there with the plate, lock yourself in the bathroom for about five minutes, and come back out.

Still hasn't taken one, you think to yourself, counting the number of slices on the plate.

Fourty-two minute TV episode later, there's still twelve slices. Sneaking out of his apartment to return to your own, still twelve slices, beginning to yellow. Your teeth grind yet you do nothing, which is what you usually do, which is what you hate yourself for.

Next time you bake chocolate chip cookies. He has a single bite of one but you nearly cry (again) with the amount of relief you feel. So the next time you make sugar cookies, cut them into fun shapes and decorate them with colored, homemade icing. You give him the heart colored red and blue––he eats the whole thing. Granted, it is one of the smallest cookies, but he ate the whole thing.

You grin like a maniac while mixing up a batch of banana bread, the mildly sour-yet-sweet scent reaching you as you hum. If you can find the right baking pan in your bag, you can make it into a cake, with sweet frosting you're sure he'll love.

"What are you doing," he asks in a monotone voice. You whirl around, finding him on the other side of the small kitchen.

"Banana cake, or bread, depending on if I can make the icing," you say.

"... why."

He doesn't even say it as a question. He says it as a statement.

"I don't have anything better to do," you lie. Actually, you're skipping out on a lot of work, all of which you will have to make up on your vacation days. Telling him straight out why you're baking all these things will only make him stop eating, you know that. 

After that he returns to his computer. Later that night you serve up the banana cake––which you manage to make a great frosting for––and the two of you watch an old 50's movie on sex education. He doesn't eat the whole slice, but he eats about half and that satisfies you.

"My cupboard is getting full," he notices one day, talking to you from across the kitchen. His head is stuck in the cupboard while you continue to stir the mix in your metal bowl.

Since the bowl is in your hands, you scooch over to him, looking over his shoulder. The four levels are mostly empty except the presence of plastic containers, all of which containing your various creations. You hadn't checked, but none of them are smaller, an indicator that he still hasn't eaten without you watching him.

"You should take your stuff home," he suggests.

"I think you need it more than I do," you say, and he has no rebuttal. He straightens his back and scans the cupboard once more before looking to you.

"You're a good baker," he says, "but I don't like cookies."

"Good thing I'm making pie then."

He eats half of the slice you give him, and none of the Chinese food you order for takeout, much like all the previous nights. You kiss his cheek before you leave and he lets you––stands still as you lean forward, doesn't flinch when you touch.

"At least keep drinking water," you say, desperate to reach him in some way.

"I know," he says, and shuts the door.

Your spine is pressed tight against the outer wall of his apartment, knees beginning to ache as they're held fierce to your chest. The stinging sensation in your nose reaches your eyes, forming tears that you despise, ones that come in big, fat rolls that mess up the fabric of your sweatshirt. He won't ever listen, will he? He won't ever take care of himself. Why doesn't he care about himself?

Probably because he's too worried about the world. There are things he does that you will never understand––both on computer and within the mind, and despite how many times he's talked about it, you don't get just how much effort he puts into helping the world. All that strength, all that fierceness, it pours into his work and leaves nothing left for himself but sickness in his stomach.

So why doesn't he care about himself?

He doesn't have the energy. It's spent, used on the world, on the poor, on the needy, on the desperate, on those clawing their way through a world that hates them, and on you.

You're so busy trying to take care of him you don't notice the little things he does––buying new ingredients for your creations, cleaning up the spots you miss, paying your parking tickets when you forget, washing the clothes you accidentally leave at his apartment. You don't need someone looking after you, but it's so nice you hardly notice it. Those little weights are off your mind, and the clarity shows just how thin Elliot is spread across everything he can't bear to leave to fend for itself.

There's not enough time in the world for him to help everyone, so he excludes himself. That's alright to him. That's logical to him, it's normal, it's all he can think of being right.

You just wish he'd let himself be taken care of.

Bite Me ~ Chapter 5

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Cussing, Biting, Choking, Sex Dream

Word Count : 2880

Back to writing again!!

Chapter 5

Micah was laying behind you on your cot, fingers running up your thigh, over your hips and to your side. You could feel his moustache graze against your bare shoulder.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“I want you, Mr. Bell. I’ve been craving you, needing you. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

Your can feel a smile form on his face as his lips push against your shoulder. His hands move back down to your hips, squeezing them while pushing your ass against his crotch. You can feel that his bulge through his pants as he grinds you against him.

“Y/N?” someone calls. It was not Micah.

You become alert, trying to look around but realizing you can’t. Your name is called again, this time louder.

You wake up, the morning sun making your tent glow around you.

“Y/N? You awake in there?” Arthur calls from outside your tent.

You are startled, sitting up in your cot. You are still shirtless from the night before, wearing nothing but your underwear. You pull your blanket up quick, hiding yourself from the empty tent. “Uh, yes, well, now I am. Don’t come in!” You say too loud. You shake your head, trying to clear it of sleep. You lower your voice to a better tone. “I’m not dressed!”

“Alright. Head over to Dutch’s tent when you’re done.” You can hear him walk away.

You pull your legs out of bed and sit on the edge of your cot. “What is wrong with you?” you mumble to yourself. “Micah you son of a bitch, what kind of hold do you have on me?” You try to be upset, but your mind still spins around the dream you were having, replaying it over and over again. Why is it that the best dreams always happen when you’re about to wake up?

You get out of bed and get dressed. After putting on your gun belt and pulling on your boots, you tie the tent flap up and head to see Arthur and Dutch. It’s still early morning, the sun is sending rays through the trees.

“Y/N!” Dutch says in his ‘I have a task for you’ voice. “Sorry to have woken you up like this, but there’s something that we need you to do this morning!”

“Of course, what’s up?” You ask cheerfully, even though you’re a little sour about being woke up.

“There was a man out of Strawberry that was going to pay us for some information on a train that was going to be passing through tomorrow. As you know, Arthur and Micah had a rather unfortunate event take place there the last time they visited, and I was wondering if you could make the trip for us. We were going to send John, but he has brought another lead to our attention that he is going to help us with. Do you feel comfortable heading to Strawberry on your own?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll just need a little time to get ready for the ride, but I can do that, no problem.” You say, joyful of the idea to have a day to yourself.

“Then it’s settled!” Dutch stands from his cot to fetch the papers you’ll be bringing with you.

“Be careful out there,” Arthur says to you. “I know you know what you’re doing, but that’s a long trip to take by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll tuck my hair in my hat so I don’t scream ‘female’ to the wrong people.” You shoot him a wink. “What are you and John going to be doing?”

“Sheep herding.” He shakes his head.

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Are you serious?”

He nods as Dutch returns with the papers. You say your goodbyes and good lucks then head to your tent. You want to get ready for the journey ahead.

You enter your tent and jump, startled. “Micah, what the hell are you doing?” He is sitting on your cot.

“I was waiting for you. I heard Dutch talking about sending you back to Strawberry.” He stands up. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? When I was arrested, they knew you were with me, you just got away before they caught you.”

“I’m not worried about the law, Micah. That was over a week ago, they aren’t gonna be looking for me anymore.” You push past him to get to the chest on the floor. You dig around for some extra bullets and your jacket while he continues.

“It’s still risky sending you, there are creeps out there, O’Driscols, Pinkertons, you name it.”

After putting on your coat, you tie your hair up to tuck under your hat. “Never knew you’d be someone to care.” You sarcastically pout your lip at him. “You were so mean to me last night.” You catch him completely off guard by pushing yourself up against him and wrapping your arms around his neck in a flimsy hug. “But still, I promise I’ll be careful.” You leave a quick kiss on his cheek, and then one on his neck, finishing off with a small bite. You pull away from him and as you’re walking out you turn to him once more. The shock on his face after seeming genuinely worried made you smile. “That’s just a little something for you to think about.”

~~~~~~

You had been traveling for a few hours when you start to get close to Strawberry. You’re glad that you wore your coat, because the further you got from camp, the foggier and mistier if got. The sun disappeared about 45 minutes after you left, and it got colder almost instantly.

A few turns away from Strawberry, you saw a small camp hidden off in the woods. One of the men was on his horse and once you got closer, you recognized him as an O’Driscol. Keeping your attention to the road, you hope to appear just a simple traveler. You pass them with no issues and continue into town.

Stopping your horse in front of the general store, you hop off and tie up the lead. You make your way across town and towards the house Dutch marked on the map he gave you with the papers. There aren’t many people out today due to the weather. Once you arrive at the house, you put the map away and walk up the stairs and to the door. You only get to knock once before the door is pulled open. There is a man standing in the entrance.

It startles you, but you compose yourself instantly and ask, “Is a—” you glance at the papers for a second. “—Mr. John Peters available?”

“That would be me,” He tells you. “And you are?”

“Mr. O’Malley sent me.” You say using Dutch’s alias.

“Oh, my apologies.” He says as he gestures you into the house.

After he glances through the papers and determines he has what he needs, he excuses himself, retuning in a minute with a small bundle of cash. You count it—50 dollars, the specified amount—and give him your thanks and farewells.

After leaving his house, you return to the general store. You buy a couple carrots for your horse, and some crackers for yourself. You’re dreading the journey back and decide to spend the night in Strawberry.

~~~~~~

After you buy a beer, you head to your room. It was still early in the day, 3 according to your pocket watch, but you still feel exhausted. You decide to pay for a bath and start winding down for the day. You hang your coat on the rack in the room but keep your bag with you. Last thing you want is to lose the money you were just paid.

The bath water was so refreshing, the warmth against your skin was a luxury. Although the door was locked, you couldn’t help but tense up every time you heard footsteps pass the door. Something about bathing always made you feel vulnerable, not having your guns let alone clothes.

After the few passerby’s were gone, you leaned your head back against the tub. Your mind starts to wonder back to your dream, and you let it. You start to imagine what would have happened if you weren’t woken up. Micah’s hand would’ve moved from your hips, to your thighs, and then to the front of your panties. He uses the perfect amount of pressure to rub you through the thin fabric. His other arm reaches underneath you to grab your breast and tease your nipple.

Then something in the hotel banged and you jumped from your thoughts. It sounded like something fell over on the other side of the wall. You sigh, not thinking much of it until you realize that’s your room. You quickly finish your bath, dry off and get dressed.

With your gun in hand, you peek out of the doorway, there’s no one in the hall, so you make your way to your room. You push the door open quick and point your gun. There’s no one there, and you don’t see anything out of order.

You make sure to check everywhere; under the bed, behind the furniture, any where someone could be hiding. You start to let your guard down when you notice your coat on the bed. You clearly remember hanging it up. You grab it without question and leave quickly.

Your horse is still in front of the general store so you hurry over and mount, kicking your feet to get out of town as fast as you can.

You come to the place where the O’Driscols were camped and notice that they had packed up in the time that you were in town. Your heart is racing, there’s no way it could’ve been them. The O’Driscols don’t know who you are. It isn’t long down the road when you have to pull your horse to a halt. On each side of the road stands an O’Driscol. You begin to turn around when two more come out of the trees on horses. You can’t take all of them, so you raise your hands in the air.

“I have no business with you, men.” You say. “I am just traveling through.”

One of the men dismounts and walks your way. “Well, well. It is her.” He says to the others, ignoring what you said. “This is the one that got away that night I got arrested.”

You recognize him then; he was one of the men Micah was playing cards with that night in Strawberry. There always seems to be a loose end somewhere.

He coaxes you off your horse and ties your hands behind your back. You feel humiliated and scared. There’s no telling what they’re going to do to you. After getting you on the back of his horse, he mounts, and they ride off. You feel tears begin to fill your eyes. What have you gotten yourself into?

~~~~~~

It was dark now; they had set up camp leaving you tied to a tree. You weren’t close enough to the fire to feel any warmth, so you sat there shivering helplessly.

The men were drinking to the point of not being able to walk in a straight line and they were singing terribly. One of them finally acknowledges you.

“So, what are we going to do with that one?” He turns and looks at you.

“I say we kill her; we haven’t had the pleasure of torturing anyone in awhile now.” He laughs drunkenly.

“No.” The one who recognized you finally speaks. “She’s mine.” He stands and walks towards you. He must not have been drinking like the rest of them, which scared you more than if he had been. He drops to one knee in front of you. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?” He runs a finger across your jaw. “You’re gonna be my little whore.”

Your eyes begin to swell with tears again and you spit at his face. “Go to hell.”

He wipes his face. “Is that how it’s going to be?” He laughs and then grabs your throat. In an angrier tone he says, “You’re going to regret that one, whore.”

He rips your shirt open just before a gunshot rips out. One of the men at the fire goes down. The rest of them go into a panic, reaching for their guns, but it’s too late. Two more shots ring out, sending the other two by the fire into the dirt. The only one left standing is the man who grabbed you.

The man shoots into the dark, “Show yourself!” He yells. Another shot comes from the darkness, missing the man by inches. You see an opportunity and take it. Your feet are tied together so you use them both the kick the man in the ankle sending him to the ground.

“You little bitch, I’ll kill—” He is interrupted by a shot to the hand holding his gun. He cries out in pain, clutching what is left of his hand to his chest.

A man emerges from the trees, hidden to you from behind one of the tents. The man lifts his gun and one more shot rings out, the bullet goes directly into the man’s skull.

You sit there anxiously, “Please, sir, please untie me, please.” You beg. The man moves from around the tent and into view.

“Micah!” you start to tear up.

He hurries over to you and starts to cut the ropes. “What the hell did I tell you about looking out for these boys when you left?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think they would know who I was, I—” you pause, pulling your arms from behind the tree after the ropes released you. “How did you find me?”

“I started my way up to Strawberry shortly after you left, something just didn’t feel right.”

As you’re pulling his coat on, you see your shirt ripped open. You start to realize how sore you are and think of how close that man had gotten to you. You think about what might have happened if Micah hadn’t been there, and you begin to cry. He helps you to your feet, not saying anything because he knows what is going on in your head and knows it’s best for him to stay quiet. With his help, you mount Baylock. He mounts after you and begins to ride away from the camp. You lean against his back. You notice how warm he is and how familiar his scent is and start to calm down almost instantly. You fall asleep to the gentle trot of the horse and the comfort of being with Micah.

~~~~~~

You awake to the sun shining in your eyes. You’re wrapped a bedroll—Micah’s bedroll. You can tell by the scent of his musk, and it could almost put you back to sleep.

“Hey, you awake?” It’s Micah, he is sitting up against a tree only a few feet from you.

“Yeah, I am.” You sit up and look at him. “Thank you,” you start. “I’m sorry, I—”

“I know you are.” He says. “Don’t worry about it, we don’t have to bring it up anymore.”

You smile, looking around. “Where are we?” the place seems so familiar. The two of you are in a small empty field. “I feel like I know this place.”

“This is camp.” He says motioning around him.

You stand up, looking around quickly. You can’t believe it. The two of you are back at Horseshoe Lookout, but everyone is gone, all of the tents and wagons are gone.

“I don’t understand, they left?”

“Seems that way doesn’t it.” He stands up as well. “I know this is strange to you, but this isn’t the first time they’ve packed up without me.” He shrugs then looks at you and chuckles.

“What? What could possibly be so funny?” you say, shocked at his ability to laugh at a time like this.

He simply points behind you. You turn to see your pants and his jacket hanging on the tree behind you. You look down, realizing that you’re only wearing the torn-up shirt, your chemise, and your underwear.

“Micah!” You exclaim, embarrassed, pulling the torn shirt back together.

He can’t help but laugh as you frantically grab your pants and pull them on as quickly as you can, not being very smooth about it.

“I cannot believe you!” you turn to look at him but can’t help but laugh at the stupid look on his face.

He grabs his coat from the tree and hands it to you. “Look, I’ll buy you some new clothes. We’ll head into town and you can pick out whatever you want.”

As you put on his jacket, he starts to roll up the bedroll. The two of you walk over to Baylock. He fastens the bedroll on and then helps you onto the horse, mounting after you. The two of you start to ride away, and you can’t help but smiling the whole way. He would never let you know, but he was smiling too.

The Recruit (3/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings for Chapter: Violence may be wished upon Captain Rogers. Injury, blood, overall not happy times. Some poorly-written fight scenes.

Notes: Sorry for the lateness! Work’s been hectic and I’m about to pull a 9-day marathon. Please send love and chocolate and alcohol. Enjoy! x

Series Masterlist //  Main Masterlist

It comes as a colossal shock to you that, two weeks following the incident with Captain Rogers in the gym, you’re paired up with him and Sam for a mission in Lima. When you receive the email, short and to the point, you spend a good few minutes blinking, rubbing your eyes, spluttering at your desk. Surely you’re imagining it that Captain Hardass has requested you to partake in this mission.

You’re proven wrong when he sends an email in response to yours, in which you claim there’s a mistake, that reads: “Quinjet takes off at 8 PM tonight. Miss it and you’re gone.”

So you show up fifteen minutes early, garbed in an all-black SHIELD-issued tac suit and heavy boots. At the gentle behest of Bucky, you’d applied the salve to your knee as you dressed, just in case. The slight numb feeling in the joint makes you smile - or is that the thought of Bucky?

Your acquaintanceship has blossomed headlong into an easy friendship. He works out with you in the gym, finds you when you’re lounging in the SHIELD common room. In turn, you’ve introduced him to some modern music once you’d learned he’s still trying to catch up. You’ve also gotten him sucked into Netflix and binge-watching shows, which the two of you do together often. Sometimes, you’ll just read while he learns how to work Snapchat or works on mission reports. 

He’s easy to get along with despite the rocky start he’d had to the Avengers Initiative. Gentle, in spite of the horrors he’d survived; cheeky and sassy and so quick-witted it sometimes throws you off. He’s overall just...good.

It’s such a far cry from the relationship you have with his best friend that it nearly gives you whiplash.

And the look Captain Rogers gives you as you enter the hangar is proof of that. He’s glaring fiercely, even finding fault in the fact that you’re early for takeoff.

“What?” you snap before you can stop yourself. You cringe internally, wait for the reprimand for insubordination. You couldn’t help it - your reaction to him is automatic hostility, matching what seems to be his reaction to you as well.

You’re not sure where he gets off on such behavior, but you’ve about had it with Captain Steve Rogers.

“You’re late,” he barks, and it sends white hot rage through your blood.

“You said takeoff was at 8. It’s 7:50,” you retort, make a show of waving your wristwatch in his face.

“Prep is half an hour prior to takeoff, Agent.”

Oh, you could slap the smirk off his face. If you both a) wanted to fist-fight Captain America and b) wanted to be fired for assaulting a commanding officer. He seems to see the struggle on your face because his smirk widens, darkens when he knows he’s won.

“Forgive me, Captain. It appears my commanding officer seemed to have left that part out,” you hiss through clenched teeth.

“A good agent should know when prep time is without her CO reminding her,” he shoots back, and a hot rage boils in your belly.

You brush by him roughly, keeping your biting retort on your tongue, stomp into the jet.

Sam is seated at the controls. You haven’t interacted with the Falcon all that much, but he gives you a bright, welcoming grin that eases your aggravation a little.

“Welcome aboard Falcon Airways,” he chirps, and you find it in you to smile a little. The Falcon glances over your shoulder at Captain Rogers, nodding once, and begins takeoff. Captain Rogers prefers to stand, while you opt to keep your distance in a seat towards the back.

The ride is mostly quiet; Sam and Captain Rogers go back and forth, muttering between themselves, but it’s too low for you to hear. Occasionally, though, the Captain shoots you unreadable glances, and your mind itches with the knowledge that they’re discussing you. It sours you, puts you in a bad headspace that you know you need to get over. It’s your first mission - you can’t fuck it up.

Not with Captain Rogers there to see it.

Sam expertly lands the jet about an hour later. You’d spent most of the ride going over the details of the mission, analyzing each bulletpoint and retaining as much information as you could. In your opinion, it doesn’t hurt to be mentally prepared. Know thy enemy, you think the phrase goes.

(Un)fortunately, Captain Rogers benches you inside the jet. You’re incredulous, and you do a poor job at hiding it. Your first mission, and you’re benched?

“I beg your pardon, Captain?” you question as he slides the famed shield onto his back. He barely glances at you, only doing so when you follow him to the ramp. Then, he rounds on you.

“I said, you’re to remain here. In the event that we need you, we’ll call for you. Until then, do us both a favor and stay put.” He doesn’t say another word, merely stomps down the ramp.

Sam’s hand is warm on your shoulder, and you turn to him. His face reads of sympathy, but an unwillingness to go against his Captain’s order.

“He just wants you to stay safe. First mission and all. Keep your comms on, learn some things, and then you’ll get your chance.” He smirks a little when you scoff in disbelief. His wingsuit is buckled across his thick chest, goggles pushed up his forehead. He checks and rechecks his weapons.

“Next time, kid, it’ll be you out there. We’ll call if we need you.” And then he’s gone.

You can hear the two of them going back and forth, Captain Rogers calling out instruction and Sam countering it with a different strategy. They operate like a well-oiled machine, and you can only hope one day you’ll have that kind of comradery with your teammates.

You spend much of your time alone balancing your knife on your fingertips, disassembling and reassembling your sidearm, and poring over the mission notes once again. It’s boring, but you suppose, in the calmness that follows your initial outrage at being confined to the jet, you understand why Captain Rogers has done it. You’re green as can be, and though you’ve done simulations, have trained under duress, you’re still not quite sure how you’d react in the face of real danger. Perhaps you should be a little relieved, but still, there’s an underlying feeling of resentment towards your prickly Captain.

Narrowly avoiding slicing your finger open as you flip your knife, you startle when Sam’s panicked voice comes over the comms.

“Agent L/N, we need you - now. Southwest corner, fifth floor.” He’s cut off by gunfire, grunting, the sounds of fists meeting flesh. You don’t hesitate, slide the knife back into its sheath.

A second voice in your ear makes you pause. “No, Agent. Remain where you are. Do you hear me? Do not leave your post.”

Captain Rogers growls at his attacker, the echoing ping of his shield loud in your ear. You know the Captain outranks Sam, yet with the noises of the fight in your ears, it’s hard to obey orders when they so clearly need your help. Mind made up, you arm yourself to the teeth, tighten the straps of a Kevlar vest and slam the button on the ramp to the jet.

Nondescript, the building in front of you looks like an office, innocent, unimposing. The gunfire coming from within it, however, shatters that illusion. Your stomach curdles nervously, hands a little shaky where they grip your handgun, trigger finger along the frame, safety flipped off. The door in front of you is smashed open, a boot-shaped dent in it. On silent feet, you enter the building, follow the sounds of gunshots, shouting, the ring of Captain Rogers’s shield.

Sweat beads at your hairline, slides a salty line down to your eye. Jaw clenched, body rigid like a cat ready to pounce. Every bit of your training kicking into high gear as you focus on untoward sounds around you. Bodies litter the floor in the next room, all knocked out or dead, you’re not sure, but you clear the room and move on quickly.

Soon enough, you find Sam and Captain Rogers, each of them bogged down by men in dark tac suits. The shield glitters under the fluorescent lighting as it flies through the air, sends a man careening into a wall, returns to the Captain’s hand thanks to the magnetization. Sam, meanwhile, has his wings folded into the suit and grapples with a brute of a man who has his hand around his throat.

You aim your gun, careful, steady. Inhale, a squeeze of the trigger on the exhale. Bullet meets its mark in the brute’s shoulder. His cry is gruff, a spray of ruby as he presses a hand to it, and Sam sees his opening. A hard boot to the chest has the man flying backwards, head colliding with a metal desk that’s been flipped in the melee.

You throw yourself into the fight despite a sharp order from the Captain to stand down. Yet how can you when the two of them are overcome? You abandon the gun, slide it into the holster at your side and instead reach for your knife. It quickly meets the innards of an approaching enemy, and you drag it upwards towards his neck, open him to the bone of his sternum. You’re drenched in blood, but you shove him away, move onto the next.

Your hand-to-hand is sloppy, but it gets the job done as you slash and stab each body that throws itself at you. A punch to the ribs has you gasping, arching away from the attack as pain blooms in your side. It’s a mistake - your attacker is fast and hits you again, a left hook that sends you spiraling, puts stars in your vision. You hit the floor on your hands and knees, nose bloody and head swimming.

You cry out roughly when his boot meets your stomach, knocking you flat on your back. Your grip is slippery on the handle of your knife, slick with blood, and it’s all too easy for your attacker to gain control. He straddles your hips, plants a knee on your knife hand and pushes. You feel the bones snap under the weight, sending a blaze of pain up your arm, and yours fingers loosen around the handle.

The man’s hands move to your neck as the bones in your wrist are crushed, fingers going numb and losing grip on your knife. The sounds of the fight around you begin to fade out at those gloved fingers tighten, press down on your windpipe until your vision blackens at the edges.

And then they’re gone - the hands around your neck, the weight on your broken wrist. A wrenching gasp from your throat while your entire arms feels as if it’s on fire. Whimpering, you cradle it to your chest as Sam helps you sit up. Around you are the bodies of the rest of the men, a sea of varying shades of black and charcoal stained with blood.

You grimace as your wrist is jostled, press it tighter against your chest as Sam helps you stand. Even with your head down you can feel Captain Rogers glaring fiercely at the side of your head. But he stays silent, at least until you’re boarded on the jet, arm in a makeshift sling.

“I ordered you to stay put,” he barks, face going red with his ire. “A good agent obeys command, not ignore it for five minutes of fame!”

Your face heats up in fresh anger - an emotion you’re quite getting used to around Captain Rogers. You grit your teeth against both his criticism and the pain in your wrist, level him with a fiery glare.

“If I had obeyed, who the hell knows what would have happened to both of you? Sam called for help - I answered.”

“And I said no. That trumps what Sam says,” Captain Rogers responds heatedly. Sam, bless him, pointedly ignores the argument in the back of the jet and prepares for takeoff.

“But you both were overwhelmed! Am I really just supposed to sit here while you get your asses kicked?”

“You might as well have! You nearly got yourself killed in the process. You have no experience in the field, and with that shoddy hand-to-hand, I’m not surprised you ended up where you are! In fact, I’m really surprised you aren’t dead.”

A sharp inhale, though whether it’s from you or from Sam you aren’t sure. Your mouth snaps shut with an audible click, teeth grinding hard as pressure builds behind your eyes. You look away, silently relinquishing this argument, and you can feel Captain Rogers’s gaze burning your face. But you refuse to break, refuse to let him see just how much his criticisms have affected you, have hurt you.

When the jet lands, you tear off of it, making for the med bay with your head down and feet quick. Behind you, you barely make out Sam and Captain Rogers exchanging words. You pay it no mind as you ignore your fellow agents, who all seem to know exactly what has happened already. Whispers flurry around you as you hurry to the elevator, making your face burn in embarrassment.

They’re prepared for you - Sam must have called ahead to let them know. To your surprise, Bucky is waiting too, and when he sees you, his expression is so worried it makes your heart pound. He’s gentle where he grasps your shoulders, eyes flying over you form until he sees the sling and your bound arm.

“Jesus, Sam called for medical but when Steve got on the radio too, I just...I got so worried, doll.” Whether his use of the pet name is intentional or not, it still makes your belly flutter, face flush, and his hands warm your body from the inside out.

“I thought the worst,” he admits, crystalline eyes shining and wide and so damn inviting you let yourself fall into him. He steadies you, an arm around your back and the other cradling your head.

It makes you forget your anger for a little while, allows you to simply enjoy his warmth, the safety you feel in his embrace. His flesh hand is warm where it slides up and down your back, the most comforting of touches that you know you should reject yet can’t.

Finally, you begin to feel a little awkward, your injured arm between you against his warm chest, and you step back. He lets you go but keeps his hands on you, begins to lead you to the waiting team of medics. They take you from Bucky, bring you into a room for an x-ray. He watches you, still worried but warmth in his gaze.

It keeps you distracted, blocks out the pain while they set your arm in a cast, prescribe you painkillers, and send you on your way.

Chapter Four

Most of my safe foods P2

[180] Weetabix- I feel like most people living outside the US are already familiar with this one, and it’s a bit different from most breakfast cereals, in that it comes in biscuits, rather than individual pieces of small cereal. I usually only use two, crumble them up, and mix in some milk, sweetener, and spices. And it’s filled with protein and fiber, keeping you full for a while afterwards. Three biscuits, about half the size of your whole hand, is 180 calories 

[86] Carrot sticks- Good with hummus, sour cream, or any other sort of sauce, carrot sticks are a classic at only 86 cal per cup

[10] Cocoa powder- With a sweet tooth, it sometimes gets difficult to mask the less than pleasant aftertaste of zero calorie sweetener. I find that a good amount of cocoa blends perfectly, and causes most low cal chocolatey recipes to perfectly resemble their original counterparts. One tablespoon of cocoa is 10 calories

[6] FF Reddi Whip- I mostly just use this as a topping. There is absolutely no difference between this one and the other, save for the calorie difference. I wouldn’t recommend Almond Milk Reddi Whip, as most people complain that the canister seems to break almost immediately after the first use. One tablespoon of Fat-Free Reddi Whip is 6 calories

[60-70] Fruit bars- While not being particularly satiating, fruit bars and other frozen foods take forever for me to finish, and during outings they’re a far less caloric alternative to ice cream or frozen yogurt. A single fruit bar is 60-70 calories 

[8] Crepini Egg Thins- These are absolutely to die for. I use them mostly for wraps and quesadillas. There are 12 in each package, so even if you ate the entire thing in one sitting, it’d be 96 calories! But for just one, it’ll be 8 calories

[6] Cabbage- Although I despise the taste of cooked cabbage, fresh leaves are a great addition of texture and crunch in tacos, fajitas, and burritos. One medium sized leaf of cabbage is 6 calories

[80] Watermelon- Not much to say here. A juicy summertime delight, full of electrolytes and vitamins, and only 80 calories per cup

[5] Crystal Light Lemonade- These come in packets, each containing enough mix to make two quarts of lemonade. If you plan on only making a cup, I’d recommend using ½ a teaspoon of mix. For an 8 oz serving of lemonade, it’s only 5 calories, in comparison to Simply Light Lemonade, which has 25 calories per 8 oz serving

[40] Pumpkin puree- Wouldn’t recommend consuming straight from the can, but in comparison to other purees for baked goods, it contains far less sugar and calories. I’ve used it mostly to make a fantastic Diet Pumpkin Pie, for which the recipe I’ll post soon, and pumpkin blueberry muffins. There are 84 calories per cup 

[100] Rice Krispies- I was somewhat surprised at the deficit in Rice Krispies in comparison to other cereals. Keep in mind I’m referring to the Original Rice Krispies, the Strawberry and Chocolate varieties are 120 and 160 calories respectively, while the normal ones are 100 calories per cup.

Swerve Sweetener- This is frankly a low-cal baking essential. My painfully strong sweet tooth often leads me to indulge in treats with less than ideal nutritional contents. Swerve consists of erythritol, which has about 1 calorie per teaspoon. In comparison to stevia, with it’s strange aftertaste, and granulated sugar, which has more than 15x the calories for the same serving, Swerve (which is a brand that I personally prefer) is quite the investment for people with serious sugar cravings. 

[16] Cucumber- Besides they’re crisp, fresh quality, cucumbers are incredibly filling. And while not being as rich in vitamins than other vegetables, it’s only 16 calories for a cup of cucumber, so there’s that.

[50] Turkey slices- I can’t stand it straight from the package, as with most deli meats, but grilling it a bit makes it a hell of a lot better. It’s 50 calories per two slices, so you could also just use one for 25 calories.

[41] Spinach- Pretty unremarkable in terms of taste, but it’s one of the most nutrient dense vegetables, with 2.9 grams of protein per 100 grams. An entire cup of cooked spinach (because this shit shrinks so fast in a pan) is 41 calories

[80] Cod- I absolutely adore fish, and cod is a great substitute for most others, such as tilapia (110 cal per 4 oz) or salmon (158 calories per 4 oz). There are 80 calories per 4 oz (which is about the size of a fillet) of cod.  

in support of wildfire relief, @bulbuli83 donated $50 and requested ‘Sam showing how far he’ll go to save Dean’. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post.

Sam prays, every day. He keeps it secret, sort of, although it's less that he's hiding and more that he just doesn't know how to talk about it, and so he doesn't. He picked it up when they were really little, staying with Pastor Jim up in Blue Earth, and he was staying up past his bedtime and saw Jim go down to his knees on the dusty floorboards through a crack in the door, and watched, amazed, while he talked quietly to someone who wasn't there. An imaginary friend, is how Sam thought of it when he was small. When he got bigger he thought of it as… he doesn't know. It's hard to articulate.

It's harder to pray, some days. People die and worlds end. He watches a wife crouched by the broken body of her husband, gripping his ripped bloody shirt and making these awful, awful sounds into his sagging neck, and that night while he lies sleepless in bed he looks up at the ceiling, his hands locked together over his stomach, and he thinks—things he can't say. Questions that don't have an answer. Intellectually, he knows that half of this is just talking to himself—reflection, indecision. Justification. There's never an answer, and for a long time he thinks there never will be. Then, he meets an angel.

It was a bad year. He thought before that he'd been through bad. He had no idea what bad was until Dean's timer was ticking down, the days slipping away from them both like a paper blown on the wind, always just out of reach. Dean acted casual and it was a lie and Sam hated it more than he hated anything. Then, Dean wasn't lying anymore, and Sam thought, bleakly ironic, maybe he should've been happy with the fake smiling and the devil-may-care, because Dean hollow-eyed and afraid was—worse. It was worse.

He prayed then, too. Asking, in an incoherent way. He didn't often get on his knees for it, but he did those last months, in random places—by his bed like a little kid when Dean was sleeping troubled; in the bathroom under fluorescent light, the shower running to provide the excuse for privacy; on the cold ground, on the side of the road or in the woods, his hands clasped so tight they hurt, just asking, asking, saying please. Of course there was never a response. One day, when there were just weeks left on Dean's deal and Dean was waking out of panting desperate nightmares every morning and Sam could hardly eat, could barely sleep, all his focus locked onto finding some way, getting out of it somehow, he was on his knees by the car, his shoulder leaned against the cold side-panel and his lips moving in something furtive, desperate, saying I'd do anything, I swear I would, I'd give up whatever it took, if only—and then he opened his eyes, and Ruby was standing there, watching him.

There's a story he always liked. Sort of a joke, sort of not. A man's house is flooding and he prays to God for help. The waters rise, inevitably. A neighbor comes by with a rowboat, and the neighbor says, come on, there's a flood!, but the man says that no, he'll stay, because he's a faithful man and he knows that God will save him. The waters keep rising and the man has to go to the second floor of his house. A police boat comes by, and the police say, sir, sir, come out of your house, there's a flood!, but the man is faithful, and he says no, he will stay, because God loves him, and will save him. The waters rise. The man climbs up to the roof. A rescue helicopter comes, and a rope hangs down, and the flood surges dangerous all around, cracking trees and threatening foundations, and from the helicopter comes a voice that says, sir, the town is gone, you must come with us to be safe. The man sits alone, on the roof, and ignores the rope, and looks to the sky, and the helicopter leaves, and the man is content because he knows that God will save him. When the house shatters—when the man drowns, brackish water filling his lungs—he goes to heaven, and is met by God, and he says Heavenly Father, I prayed, and I believed in you, and I thought you loved me, and you didn't save me. God says, I sent a rowboat, and the police, and a damn helicopter. What else do I gotta do, you idiot?

Dean died. Sam—didn't. He tried to for a while but it didn't stick. He got very, very drunk, and he went to his knees mainly because he was struggling to stand, and he braced his hands on the ground and thought he was going to puke, his shoulders hunched against the pain of it, and he said, or thought he said, I would've done anything, I promised you, I said—I said I would save him and I couldn't save him, and that's the meat of it, in the end. That he had made Dean a promise and he'd seen how Dean tried to believe him, and then he broke it. He didn't do the only thing that mattered. He hunched there, on the ground, and it was only when Ruby came and touched his shoulder, lifted him up, that he realized that he hadn't really been praying the whole time—that he'd been begging—and Ruby said, then, her little hands hard on his wrist and on his jaw, You can't fix it, Sam. You can't. No one can. The only thing we can do now is get revenge. If you let me help you, we can kill her. You and me. He swayed on his feet but she held him up, her eyes dark and steady. He thought of water, rising. Tell me how, he said, and she did.

He'd already broken one promise. It didn't seem that much worse to break another. He drank her blood and he cleared his mind of anything but one goal. Lilith had to die, and the world would be better for her dying. It seemed—not fair, nothing was fair, but it seemed—right. She'd taken something from him. The most important thing. He'd take something from her. When he prayed, for the rest of that year, he prayed not for mercy or for clarity or for wisdom, but for focus. He had one thing he needed to do. He just needed to be able to do it.

Ruby had told him that no one could fix it, and she was right. Dean comes back and Sam can hardly believe it. He holds Dean in his arms and Dean grips his hair, his shoulder, vivid and breathing and real. Dean's alive and he's here, with Sam, and that should resettle the world. It should make things—okay, again. It doesn't. Dean says he doesn't remember hell but his eyes are still haunted, as raw and fearful as he was in the months that led up to his dying. Dean says things are okay, that he wants to make it work, but he's harsher, his voice wrecked and low, the way he watches Sam strange and mistrustful. They meet—and Sam can hardly bear it—an angel, and Sam's whole body feels strange, resonant. Proof, if he ever needed it, when faith had always been enough. The angel looks at him and is an answer—God's warrior, solid on the earth—and he says to Sam that he is an abomination, and he says to Sam that what he's doing, his work, the only thing that had made sense out of Sam's life for the broken time when Dean was gone—he says that it's wrong, and he has to stop, and that the angels will take care of it.

Of course, they won't. Sam knows that. Angels are miracles, God's intervening hand, but Sam has to do this himself. That's been clear for a long time, now.

He prays still but it's to something distant. He doesn't know if it's God, anymore. He sits on his bed, watching Dean sleeping (troubled, frowning), and he folds his hands between his knees and thinks, what can he do? How can he make it right, make it better?

There's a fight. An alley, a hard fast scrum. They're looking for one of these stupid seals, at the behest of the angels, but apparently the angels can't be trusted to watch their backs. In the alley they're all normal-looking guys except for how their eyes go black, when Sam comes around the corner and finds them with Dean, and Dean's bleeding. Dean's bleeding, from his nose and his lips, a cut on his temple like someone bashed his head into the wall, and even if Sam's had the impulse to do the same a few times in his life, other people aren't allowed to hurt him. What has it all been for, if not for that?

"Sam," Dean says, warning—warning, like there's not a demon's hand around his throat.

One of them squares up. Four, in the alley, two on Dean, one watching, one making like he thinks he's going to take Sam down. Last night Sam prayed and Ruby came, telling him that they were close to Lilith, that they were going to make it right, and she nicked her wrist and he drank deep and it's still there, crackling under his skin, filling his bones with light. He holds out a hand and the demon going for a haymaker stops in his tracks, flinches. There's a rustle. Leaves blowing, underfoot.

Sam concentrates but it turns out that it's not all that hard to concentrate, anymore. He's focused. He has clarity of purpose, and all the belief he needs, because it's easy to believe when the proof's right there in front of you. The demons surge at him and he stops them all, two hands out and his eyes half-lidded, the light in him roiling up, yoked to his needs. The one holding Dean lets go and Dean sags, his legs unsteady after that head wound, but Sam doesn't have time for him right this second—it's more important to make sure that the one who was touching Dean dies, and—he dies. The smoke in him gutters out, his spark crackling and then snuffed, like a fire without oxygen. The others go—more slowly, all three at once, and Sam breathes and feels them ebb, their soured souls trapped inside their mouths, the pain flaring and the light in Sam white-hot, bright, scorching them away until the bodies drop, empty, broken in the scattered leaves and trash of the alleyway. None of them stand up. The meatsuits must have been destroyed, too. Sam breathes out, rolling one shoulder, and feels—righteous. It'll be like that, he thinks. It'll be this way, when he finally kills Lilith.

Dean's still crouched by the wall of the bar. Sam steps over the bodies, crouches too. Dean flinches back a few inches but Sam shushes him, touches his jaw. "It's okay," he says, "it's over," and Dean sucks in air and looks at him with big worried eyes, but it is okay. Sam made it okay.

He runs his hands over Dean's shoulders and then gets his forearms, helps him up to his feet. No broken bones, that Sam can tell, and he gently presses Dean back against the bricks and tilts his face toward the neon light. In the blinking blue-red-white the blood looks bad, but it's been worse, and Sam applies a crumpled bandana from his pocket to the spot by Dean's temple where it's still seeping. Dean's eyes are closed, his face turned a little away. Sam touches his throat and feels his heartbeat, racing. They haven't been this close in weeks—Sam's heart is racing a little, too.

"I know you don't like them," Sam says, quietly. "My powers, I mean. But—if there's a way to save you, I'm gonna take it. If there's a way to fix things, to make it better—take out Lilith, stop all these seals from falling—then I'm gonna do it. I can do it, Dean."

Dean shifts against the wall but Sam holds him in place. Dean goes still. "The angels don't like it, Sam," he says. His voice sounds wrecked, like he's been yelling. Was he yelling, during the fight? Sam can't remember. "They say it's—wrong."

"Well, they're wrong," Sam says, and Dean opens his eyes, and Sam smiles at him, and shrugs. "I mean, how can it be wrong? Look," he says, and Dean looks, at the alleyway with the bodies filling it. His eyes are hooded a little but when the neon sign flashes white, Sam can see the green. He takes the bandana away and cups his hands around Dean's jaw, instead, turning his head back, and Dean's eyes are still lowered, fixed on Sam's chest, his breathing heavy. That's okay. Everything's okay.

"No one's going to touch you, again," Sam says. He's broken two promises, already. This third one, he can keep. "I swear. I'm gonna keep you safe, okay? And there's nothing any of the angels or any of the demons can do about it."

"You swear?" Dean says.

Sam frames Dean's face with his hands, the light still churning inside him. He leans in, and Dean's head tips back against the brick wall, and he looks Sam in the eyes finally, and his lips part, a breath heaving in. Sam could answer, but he thinks this is answer enough—he bends his head and kisses Dean, carefully, like they haven't in—god, months and months and months, with things so strange between them. He moves his mouth very softly, aware of how Dean's bleeding with that cut inside his lip, and Dean shudders under his hands, grips Sam's jacket, but then—slowly, tentatively, he kisses back. His tongue tastes like dark iron, like copper's tang. Sam pulls him in, closer, and Dean makes a small deep sound and presses close, just like Sam wanted, and Sam thinks, giddy, that all his faith was worth it. All those prayers, all those works. He did what he had to, and in reward he has—this. Dean, safe and his. Above them, it starts to rain.

50 Cliché Prompts: 27

27. Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second

this is part of my 1k celebration! i invited people to send in prompts.

okay, so, the fact that i need to explain this highlights how long it took me to write it. in my defense, i have never written a longer one shot, and there is fake dating and pining and feelings and a bit of smut thrown in for flare. enjoy!

[deckerstar, 4.5k words, set early in s2, fake dating, first time, porn with feelings]

of holy things

“Ms. Decker?”

Lucifer’s bartender – Patrick, she remembers – slides a tumbler to where she’s taken a seat at the bar, perched somewhat uncomfortably.

“Oh no, I didn’t order any–“

“Ms. Decker, please.” Patrick interrupts her. “You do know you’re at the very top of our guest list, right?”

Oh. Oh.

She can’t help but glance in Lucifer’s direction, who’s currently deep in conversation with Maze, his right-hand-ninja-demon-bartender-whatever, pouring over what appear to be business records. He’s in a dark ensemble today, hair just the tiniest bit ruffled from their work, and he’s smirking at something Maze said. It suits him, all of it.

The very top, huh?

“Well, let me just…”

She makes to scramble for her wallet, but Patrick only shakes his head at her, chuckling softly.

“Do you want me to lose my job, Detective Decker?”

At that, she takes the offered drink with a grateful, earnest smile, tipping it briefly in salute to him before turning in her seat to face her partner’s club in full swing.

The stakeout had been a complete bust, she can admit that, but it had also been in close proximity to Lux. Lucifer had offered his penthouse to regroup and go over the case files again, Dan had Trixie for the night, and Chloe had agreed to his plan fast enough not to second-guess herself.

As she watches the ecstatic dancing, she starts to relax. Tonight’s DJ is clearly talented, the base surprisingly isn’t too overwhelming for her, and Patrick has mixed her a whiskey sour, she recognizes, which is– Absolutely delicious, really. Tart, sweet, perfectly balanced – and probably also ridiculously expensive. But, guest list.

Who knew having a night club owner for a partner came with such perks?

Said night club owner is still talking with Maze, though, and Chloe hopes he–

“Hello, beautiful.”

Oh, no.

The man stands right in front of her, and it’s too late to turn back to the bar again. Someone trying to flirt with her is the last thing she needs tonight. She opens her mouth to say so, but gets interrupted.

Rude.

“I’m George, by the way. I’ve been watching you since you came in. You’re such a pretty little thing.”

George is in his late forties, by her guess, and passably attractive. He’s also condescending, drunk, all but shouting in her ear and standing way too close for her comfort.

“Sorry, but I’m not in the mood for–“

She halts because he’s just put his right hand on her thigh, clammy fingers reaching toward her ass.

No. Definitely no.

“What’s your name, sweetheart? Tell me while we’re dancing, alright?”

Both of his hands clutch at her skin now, insistently, and she’s helpless at the instinctual well of fear inside of her. But not helpless against him.

Her fingers find her badge easily, and she reckons it’ll be enough to scare George into–

“What’s going on here?”

Lucifer’s voice is sharp and cold next to her, and she breathes easier instantly. George’s hands slip from her legs, and his gaze flicks between them in confusion. She knows the look Lucifer has fixed on him right now, knows the deadly calm, disquieting focus of eyes that sparkle for her, and she loves that it makes the other man squirm.

This is so much more satisfying than just flashing her badge at him, and – hold on, jerk – it’s about to get even better.

“Oh, Lucifer! Let me introduce you to George here. George, meet Lucifer, my boyfriend.”

“Boyfr–“

She elbows him to get him to shut up, then leaps from the bar stool and wraps her arm tight around his waist, pulling him to her.

Lucifer tries to sputter more, but when she looks up at him, he swallows and recovers enough to put his arm around her shoulders, the sensation somehow featherlight. Maybe she should be more shocked at how nice his touch feels in contrast, how right.

“I– I… I didn’t realise–“

George’s stammering is ridiculous, the crimson blush on his face betrays his embarrassment, and the way he tries not to cower speaks of how effective Lucifer’s psycho tricks are. Chloe fervently hopes their show will be cringy enough for George to stop him from bothering anyone else tonight.

“Oh, it’s a fresh thing,” Lucifer beams, now clearly onboard with her plan to cause maximum mischief.

She can’t not grin at how giddy he looks, and raises up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He smells of luxurious cologne, maybe sandalwood, and something that’s just inexplicably him, something warm and intoxicating that makes her want to trail her lips down his neck to mouth at his collarbone.

What happened to being repulsed on a chemical level, exactly?

Her kiss probably turns out less chaste and fake than she intended, and when Lucifer’s smirk slips off his face and his eyes find hers, fingers hovering over where her lips were, she fumbles.

“Babe, let’s… Grab our stuff and head to the penthouse, yeah?”

She turns to gather her bag and the casefiles without waiting for an answer. When she’s facing Lucifer again, he nods at her, a cheeky little smile curling his mouth for her eyes only. They only spare George a glance when they leave, walking closely. Lucifer’s palm rests at the small of her back, barely touching, warm, soothing.

It stays there until they arrive at the elevator, when Lucifer withdraws it to punch in the code. Chloe immediately mourns its absence, but the doors slide open for them and Lucifer gestures for her to go in first.

His eyes are intent on her, his expression uncharacteristically open, almost insecure. There’s wonderment there as well, and awe. She smiles at him in return, unguarded and joyful because she wants to, and maybe because she’s just a little awed herself.  

–

Chloe’s smile warms him like the sun, but he’s still apprehensive, and he can’t shake the image of that dullard’s hand on her thigh from his mind. The doors close behind them, and Chloe sags against the wall across from him, relieved. Or deflated, rather?

“Detective, are you alright though? I should have noticed that insolent, boorish nitwit sooner, I apologise­–“

“Lucifer, no. I’m okay! There’s nothing to apologise for. I was just about to show him my badge, actually, but when you showed up… Well, I hope what we did will be more effective.”

Oh.

What they did.

Nothing, really. But he still feels a band of warmth where she’d pulled him into her side, and his skin still prickles where she’d pressed her lips to his cheek. It never felt like this before. Why does it feel different? What is she doing to him?

And why, why can’t he stop thinking about how her body felt underneath his hands?

(Soft, bare ivory instead of blazers and jeans and suits. His fingers wander, and her body yields to his, breathless sighs taking the place of clever quips and banter. She’s his Detective, she’ll always be, but here, in the gentle darkness of sins and holy things, here with him, she’s only Chloe. They’re wrapped around each other, flesh and bones and soul, and she moans in his ear. His name has never sounded sweeter than on her tongue, and he groans and he kisses her and–)

“Lucifer?”

He clears his throat, and it’s too loud in the small space, jarring. She’s studying him with her sea foam eyes, curious, and she has no right to be so beautiful in her simple white blouse and black jeans. His heart still thumps in his chest, and he needs to touch her, to be touched by her again, so very badly.

The Devil, tempted.

“Well… Well, I’m sure it was. Effective, that is. But I’ll text Maze to chuck him out anyway. There’s no room for miscreants like him in Lux, after all.”

He unlocks his phone to do just that, and he’s glad for the task, the distraction it provides him.

“Oh, that’s… That’s good. Thank you, Lucifer.”

He pauses and nods, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably.

There’s that rush coursing through him again, this exquisite high he’s never quite managed to recreate since, no matter how many of his favourite substances and bedfellows he’s been combining.

And it’s… It’s just her, he realises with sudden, aching clarity. Her, and how she… The way he feels when–

“Lucifer, are you okay? I hope I didn’t overstep earlier. I mean, I…”

He wants to claw at his collar, flee, needs to kiss her until he can’t breathe anymore.

Chloe…

How come she knows him so well already? How come she sees right through him when he’s spent literal eons perfecting his masks, his charades? All the walls he built in loneliness and despair, the last defences meant to protect him from more hurt and pain, they crumble and give easily before her.

Why does he want them to?

The elevator dings, and he’s saved by the bell.

“Nonsense, Detective. You know me, always up for some good old-fashioned roleplay! Now, tell me what drink I can pour you, darling.”

–

He’s oddly quiet next to her. So far, she’s counted several excellent opportunities for a bit of Luciferish commentary, but he’s used none of them. His contributions to the conversation are thoughtful, but clipped, any attempts at jokes half-hearted at best.

By now, it has worry eating at her insides, the unsettling feeling slowly replacing the strange euphoria from before, from when he’d touched her.

Although the question is on the tip of her tongue, she doesn’t ask him if he’s fine. Again.

He is focused on her though, there’s no doubt about that. His eyes follow the movements of her hands where she spreads and rearranges the evidence on the coffee table in front of them, and every so often, he nods in agreement to something she has said.

When he takes a sip of his brandy, she doesn’t acknowledge the slight tremor of his fingers.

“So, that’s why I think you were right, yesterday. We tailed the wrong guy after all.”

A statement as rare as this should earn her a gleeful, exuberant “Detective!” at the very least. Instead, he only smiles distractedly, barely even looking at her, and gets up from the chair across from her abruptly.

O…kay?

He starts to pace in the open space of the penthouse, and although she should probably gather her things and leave so he can sort out… whatever this is, she feels compelled to watch him. To stay with him.

He doesn’t seem to notice her concerned staring at all, his graceful long lines tense in a way they usually aren’t, his eyes distant and his mouth set in a hard line. It’s such a far cry from his bubbly joy from earlier, and she doesn’t understand.

A predator, she thinks, but scared and backed into a corner.

What could possibly unnerve him like that?

He drags a trembling hand through his hair, the hair that’s always meticulously and perfectly styled, and it’s all wrong.

Maybe she can get him to talk by dragging him back to their case? A little bit of projecting never hurt nobody, either.

“So, Lucifer, what did you think about–“

“Can I touch you?”

“What?”

–

No. No, no, no, no, no.

“I… I’m sorry Detective, I didn’t… I‘m actually not feeling so well tonight? We should… We should go through the files at the precinct tomorrow. Alright, see you then!”

“No Lucifer, wait. What did you mean by that?”

Her eyes are bright and sharp when she’s focussed on him like she is now. Detecting mode on. She’s raw and unbridled energy, always hunting for the deeper truth, ready to pounce, ready to deliver justice, ready to bring whoever stands in her way to their knees.

She doesn’t know that before her, he’d sink to his knees willingly.

Chloe arches her eyebrows at his silence, and it’s a visceral effort to tear his thoughts away from her beauty.

“I– I just… When you–“

He has to stop and releases a shaky breath, feeling unsteady and disturbed by all this want, this pathetic longing that Chloe surely will have no need for.

“Lucifer, it’s alright, talk to me. We both… You make me vulnerable as well, remember? What do you need?”

He can’t lie to her.

“I– I want to touch you again, Detective. It felt… I know we only made believe, but I just–“

“Okay.”

It’s his turn to gape, now.

“What?”

Chloe tilts her head, considering. This can’t be a smirk she’s trying to hide. Can it?

“Wellll, I seem to have slept with my neck at a terrible angle last night, and my shoulders and back have been killing me for weeks now. I think… I could do with a back rub, actually. So…?”

She beckons him with sparkling eyes, smiling knowingly, and he’s helplessly lost.

“I– At once, darling.”

He crosses over to her, and tries to joke about massage oil and his comfortable bed, but it all gets stuck in his throat. He settles gingerly behind her on the couch eventually, his heart beating wildly and his stomach in knots, feeling as though he has never even touched a woman in his entire life.

And is this… Is this really what she desires? He has no way of knowing, will probably ruin things between them, and–

Chloe cranes her neck to look back at him, nothing but warmth in her gaze.

“Stop overthinking and worrying, okay? I want– I want this, too.”

He nods, completely enthralled by all her mercy, but she turns to face forward again, lifting her hair away from her shoulders. Just like that, her soft skin is bared before him, and he drinks in the graceful lines of her exposed neck and back. Without even intending too, his fingers card through her hair, carefully smoothing it to one side.

She sighs, and he brushes his fingertips over the expanse of her back, his hands coming to rest lightly atop her shoulders.

He knows it’s no small gift to have earned the trust of his Detective, and he’s not sure if he deserves it, but fuck, he’ll give his all to be what she needs, to give her everything she could ever want. He doesn’t understand his feelings, any of it, but he understands desire, and it has never been clearer to him what it is that he desires. Uncaring Devil façade be damned.

He starts with gentle pressure, massaging her with all the care and skill he possesses, and it is exactly as exhilarating as he thought it would be. She’s melting into him, her body welcoming and pliant under his hands, and he can’t quite believe she allows him to touch her like that.

When he tries digging his knuckles in a tad more forcefully, her surprised, pleased moan sends blood rushing towards his groin. He shivers, does it again, and–

“Yes, Lucifer, just like that. Right there, yes.”

This unfamiliar, all-consuming need is clawing out of him again, and it’s all he can do to clench his jaw, flex his fingers, and comply with her demand.

It’s not just that he can finally touch her, either. He can smell the nuances of her perfume, her shampoo, even her fabric softener. He feels her warmth and the rush of her blood, the vibrancy of her soul against his fingers. She should be just one simple human, but her life is more precious to him than he can even fathom, and everything about her calls to him like nothing, like no one before her ever has.

He continues to sweep his hands over her body, kneading down alongside the vertebrae of her spine, and her sounds of pleasure get him more drunk than all his booze ever managed.

When he’s arrived at her waist again, he stills her hands on her body and lets his forehead rest gently against her back. His breathing is heavy by now, but so is hers. He’s still not sure what they’re doing, but he has to ask before he goes insane. Slowly he moves his hands so that he’s cradling her waist, embracing her more fully. Surely she’ll flee now?

“Is this okay?”

To his surprise, Chloe covers his hands with her own, even pulls his fingers under her blouse suggestively.

“Yeah, Lucifer.”

He swallows hard, and finally dares to press his lips to her neck, peppering the skin he kneaded earlier with soft, open-mouthed kisses. There’s a small intake of breath, then Chloe sighs and arches her back as if to give him more access. He’s dizzy from it all, high on the sounds he can elicit from her, finally.

His fingers drift upward over her ribs of their own volition, but just below the temptingly full swell of her breasts, he hesitates.

“Chloe… Please, please tell me to stop when you need me to. I– I don’t want you to regret anything.”

To regret me.

Almost abruptly, she turns in his arms again. Her eyes focus on his for a second, intent and searching, then she drops her gaze to his mouth. She wets her lips, cradles his face with both of her hands, and claims his mouth with her own.

He groans against her lips, helplessly, and finally, gently cups her breasts. As if she set out to drive him mad specifically, she wears a simple lacy T-shirt bra under her blouse. He can feel everything through its material. When he flicks his thumbs over her stiff nipples, Chloe whines against his lips, nearly breaking off their kiss, and fuck, has he ever been harder in his life?

He takes his time to explore her, thoroughly, committing her shape and feel to his memory in case she decides never to grant him this again, and laughs when Chloe bites down on the swell of his lower lip.

“Lucifer,” she breathes against him, and it sounds even better than it did in his fantasy. She looks as dazed and unbelieving as he is, but her eyes are frantic with need. He wants nothing more than to please her, in whatever way he can.

“Let me take care of you, love. Please.”

She nods, and he slowly turns her in his arms. She leans fully against him now, not an inch of space between their bodies, and he notices the way her heart races.

He dreads the second she’ll leave him.

Almost timidly he lets his hands trace over her body until they’re resting at the tops of her thighs. When his hands hover over her fly, his resolve wavers again. Chloe saves him, pulling her zipper down quickly and wriggling, adorably, to give him more space.

She couldn’t state more boldly that she wants this, now, and the Devil might just come in his pants like a horny teenager.

Only their breathing fills the quiet as he slowly reaches to cup her over her panties, and they groan together at the first connection, as he realizes how drenched she is from what they’ve been doing.

“You kill me,” he whispers against the shell of her ear, then pushes her underwear aside because he has absolutely zero restraint left.

He’s allowed to touch, and she’s swollen and dripping wet. For him. He mouths at her neck, wraps his hand around her throat lightly when she throws her head back, and it’s intoxicating, all of it.

It would almost certainly be embarrassingly easy to get her off in this state. (Hell, he can barely keep himself in check, and he has eons of practice.) A few determined strokes, a handful of precise circles around her clit, and she’d be gone, he reckons. But this is not at all what she deserves, not at all what he wants to give her, now.

Instead, he takes his sweet time, caressing every inch of her, spreading her wetness with fingertips and knuckles, worshipping her silky skin. He keeps his touches deliberately featherlike, as if anything more would shatter her, but he knows it’s him that’s fragile, and he finds he’s not ashamed of it anymore.

She’s restless in his arms, writhing against his body, and he’s sure he bruises her hip with his left hand, but she doesn’t mind, keeping it there by pressing her own above it, linking their fingers together tightly.

Like this, only teasing and exploring, he brings her to the edge.

He senses when she’s almost there, and it’s glorious. She’s trembling and twitching, gifting him with quiet little whimpers he will treasure forever, and grips his thigh with enough force he has to bite back a grunt. (It hurts, and isn’t that marvellous in itself?)

But this is not how he wants to do this, and so he withdraws his fingers at what is possibly the last possible moment before she reaches her peak.

“Fuck, Lucifer– Why did you stop?!”

He almost feels sorry at the desperate lilt of her voice, almost. But pleasure is one of the few things he’s good at, and he knows this will be worth it in the end.

“I know, I know. Fuck, you feel so good, darling. Trust me when I say I know what I’m doing. I’ll stop your pleasure one more time and then I’ll make you come, I promise. If you don’t think it was worth it after that, you can throw me out of my own house, you have my word.”

She chuckles weakly, thankfully, then throws her head back again when he wastes no time and pushes one finger inside her.

“Ugh, Lucifer… More like you’ll do– Fuck. You’ll do my paperwork for a month.”

He smiles against her skin, both because of their banter and at the thought of him actually doing paperwork. He’s glad she doesn’t make a real deal out of it, but then, he trusts his abilities, doesn’t he?

She gasps when he finds her G-spot, and the way she clenches around him makes his eyes roll back in his head. He’s not sure which colour they are anymore. But all that matters is her pleasure, and he lets himself get lost in it.

He brings his thumb to massage her folds, all the sensitive spots he discovered earlier, but is careful to avoid direct contact with her clit. She keens in his arms, moaning openly, and he watches every beautiful reaction play across her face. He never wants this to stop.

A second finger follows the first, and he grazes sensitive nerves over and over, makes her grind against his fingers inside her. She pulses rhythmically around him, and the feel of her heat and strength maddens him.

“Lucifer, please, it’s so good…”

She almost sounds delirious by now, and it’s a conscious effort not to come just from this, just from seeing her carefree and lost in pleasure like this.

“Hold on for me, love, once more–“

He removes his hands from her body, and she whines and whips her head around immediately, crashing her lips to his with a fierce intensity that takes his breath away.

“Make me come already,” she demands against his mouth, and he groans helplessly.

He keeps her like she is now, wanting to watch when she finally falls apart, and returns his hands to her. With his left hand, he cups her breast, teasing a nipple with insistent, back-and-forth-strokes that earn him an exhale and hands fisting in his hair.

Two fingers of his right hand slip inside her again, snug against her G-spot, and he’s holding back nothing. Finally, he presses his thumb directly against her clit, in rough, dirty circles, just the way she needs now, and never lets his eyes leave hers.

After all the build-up, she’s completely lost in it, her face soon scrunching up in sensation beautifully and her fingers bruising his skin. He lets his forehead fall against hers and gasps with her, committing everything to his memory.

Her orgasm starts in little tremors and ripples across her body. Tangled up with her as he is, he feels them all, feels her clench around his fingers like a vice grip. Her mouth falls open, her eyes press shut, and finally, with his thumb circling her relentlessly, she freezes up in his arms and comes with a wail that cuts right through him.

He swallows it with his mouth, and he kisses her tenderly, smiling against her lips as she rides his hand through her peak, clinging to his body and whimpering softly.

Only when she goes limp and boneless in his arms he carefully removes his hands from her, breaking their kiss and opening his eyes to take her in, flushed and euphoric with pleasure. It’s the most beautiful, rapturous sight.

He brings his fingers to his lips because he has to, and he groans at her taste in his mouth, revels in the breath she sucks in.

“Fucking– Shit, Lucifer. You really had every right to brag all this time, didn’t you?”

She’s breathless and gorgeous and happy, and he always wants to be the reason she is.

“Course I did, darling,” he retorts automatically, but he can’t help the shit-eating grin, and he can’t help how not-unaffected he sounds.

Her smile dims a little, though, and it’s ridiculous how fast he panics. If she leaves now, he’ll be ruined forever.

“I– I know this is maybe not the right time, but I just… I guess I need to know if I’m just another notch in your bedpost, you know? If I am, if we are, I don’t know­, more than– Ah shit, forget I said anything.”

She leans in to kiss and distract him, but he stops her with a finger, understanding perfectly for once.

Chloe couldn’t be farther away from being just another notch in his bedpost, he realises. She is light and everything good that’s been missing from his existence. His heart stutters inside his chest, but the thought that someone could hold power over him loses its terror when he’s looking at her, when her emerald eyes shine like they do now.

“You are, Chloe. We are,” he vows, and it’s the absolute truth.

Voicing it aloud lends his devotion a shape, and he knows the word humans would use to describe his feelings. Some dark part of him still scoffs at the notion of him ever being able to love someone, much less being loved in return, but nevertheless, he knows it’s love that spreads like fire in his veins, that settles like a comforting weight in his chest, that floods his battered heart with life and his soul with hope.

“Really? Oh, thank God,” Chloe mumbles before she kisses him again, and not even the mention of his father can take this giddy happiness away from him.

This is new. This is terrifying. But it is good, and this time, he cannot wait to fall.

“Lucifer,” Chloe breathes against his lips, and there is nothing but her.

Survey #467

“oh, mary, mary, ain’t this fun?  /  mary, mary, i’ve got a gun”

If the last person you kissed asked you to marry them, what would you do? Pray to god it wasn't in public and tell him it's waaaay too soon for that one. Does your favorite uncle have any children? Yeah, a son and daughter. Name all the members (first, middle and last names) from your favorite band. Ha, it's funny how once upon a time, I could do this. All I've got now is John Michael Osbourne. Have you ever heard a young child swear? Maybe? Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo?: Yes to both. Has a taste of something ever made you smile? Boy meet me at The Cheesecake Factory and see what my face does lmaooo As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a paleontologist sooo badly. I wanted to discover new dinosaurs, put a shitload of work into unearthing fossils and being so proud to see the final results... Even now as an adult, if I could handle the heat, traveling, and hardcore school, I'd still love to do that. Would you cuss the person you hate the most out to their face? No. My hatred for her is unjustified and I'd rather just not say anything to her. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? As one of the strongest people around. I imagine her with a job in medical coding, while also pursuing the hobbies of ball python breeding and writing. I'm sure she'll have loads of pets to love, too! Do you like Florence + The Machine? I've never listened to them. Did you watch the presidential debates? No. Do you ever watch Dr. Phil? No. Are you typically unattracted to people outside of your race? No; I can be attracted to any race. Have you ever ridden any animal other than a horse? No. Do you brush your hair when it’s wet? Yes. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yeah, I always have. Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah! At my childhood home, there was a tobacco field directly across the street, and when they weren't in season so the field was flat, Dad would help us with getting kites set up and in the air. Those are good memories. How are you for money? I don't make any money. Mom is struggling. Do you think you are more intelligent than the average person? Ha, no. Do you ever think about why we are here? Does it matter? We're here, so make the most of it. Do you like cherries? I fucking hate cherries. Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: Jeffree Star, probs. Can you use a yoyo? Not well, but yeah. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I've actually never watched her. Do you like folk music? NOOOOOOOOO Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yes. Do you know any lesbians? Yep. Favourite member of your favourite band: I'm unfamiliar with all but Ozzy himself. And Ozzy is rad. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don't have one. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I sometimes have very, very quick spasms when I'm falling asleep that feel like what I assume a seizure would, but they barely last a second. They seriously jerk me awake, though, and are very startling. What’s the oldest man-made object you own? I dunno. Is there anything you feel like you need a break from? Not really, no. What do you hate to hear people joke about? I will actually and remorselessly deck you in the jaw if you make a joke about rape. There are other things that are absolutely forbidden joking matters for me, too. What’s the largest animal you’ve seen in the wild? Hmmm... Nothing that big, really. Maybe a whitetail deer buck? Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yeah. We've had some savage thunderstorms. What political issues are the most important to you personally? LGBTQ+ rights and just equality in general, the pro-choice movement, environmental conservation, gun control, the abolishment of poverty and homelessness... There is honestly a lot. I could keep going. Do you know anyone who doesn’t know how to cook even just simple recipes? ... Me. :x Especially now that I'm in a relationship, I really want to make a greater effort to learn. I want to prove to him I give a damn about the success of our relationship and that I'm capable of being an adult that can take part in general adult responsibilities. ^What’s stopping them from learning this basic life skill? Laziness. Forgetfulness. The fear of getting burned. What small thing makes you automatically distrust someone? I can pick up on sketchy body language from a mile away. I'm too paranoid not to. Of all the states/provinces in your country, which one is your favorite? At least from photographs I've seen, Utah appears BEAUTIFUL. That whole region of the U.S. in general. Are there any obscure foods you’ve eaten that most people have never tried? That's very unlikely. I'm far from explorative with food. When you travel to other countries, do you always try the local cuisine? I've never been outside the U.S. I would probably do that, though. I'd really want to experience the culture as thoroughly as I could. What did you do for your 19th birthday? Hell if I remember. What’s the kindest thing a total stranger has done for you? I remember as a young kid, my parents, two sisters, and I were getting food at McDonald's, and whoever was in front of us paid for our meals. Such a sweet gesture for a larger family. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? No, but there actually is one that I can't recall the name of that I'd like to try when I cook myself, especially getting started learning, but yeah, subscription fees. You see a lot of YouTubers get sponsored by them, if that rings a bell. Do you have any psychological issues rooted in events from your childhood? Possibly my fear of men, with my dad having been an alcoholic that had a 50/50 chance of being very angry when drunk. How organized are the files on your computer? Pretty organized, I'd say. I put stuff into folders. Would you date someone with braces? Yes? Do you ever rehearse conversations before you have them? Only always. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Myself, for sure. When taking a cab, do you talk to the driver? I've never even taken a cab. Who or what greets you at the door every time you come home? Nobody, really. My cat is occasionally in the living room to see who's home, but not always because he's a lazy cat, ha ha. Do you ever chat about your favourite video games with your friends? Not really, no. I wish. Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No, bc I'm poor. Are you currently studying a language? If so, which one? No. Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Yeah. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want some 'cuz I'm paranoid as hell. Are you waiting on anything right now? No. Have you ever been described as shy? Is it true? Oh, always. It's absolutely true. Name something you’re a complete sucker for? Baby animals, to name one thing. Do you remember when you first went on the internet? Nope. What is one way someone could completely put you off on a first date? Arrogance/over-confidence. What about a way someone could make you like them more on a first date? Make me genuinely laugh a lot, to name one way. Are you in love right now? Not yet. I love him with our decade of history, but I need more experience as a couple before I've got the confidence to say that. Do you wanna get married anytime soon? It wouldn't be smart to. I want to be in a strong relationship for quite a few years before I want that. Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No but oh my fucking god I wish!!!!!! Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No, but Mom would threaten to. What was the last fruit you ate? Well, I had strawberry yogurt earlier today. Who was the last person to make you laugh? Girt. He is very, very good at that. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Hell yeah man. Is there one night of your life you wish had never happened? I wish it hadn't happened the way it did. Do you have a close relationship with your sibling(s)? No. What was the last thing that you shared? Some watermelon Sour Patch Kids with my mom. Do you think people talk behind your back? You couldn't get me to believe my mom doesn't at least sometimes to my sisters even if you tried your absolute damnedest. In real life do you laugh like ‘haha,’ 'hehe’ or something else? It depends on what I'm laughing at/at what intensity. Do you have any unusual skills? Nah. Who’s your favourite person? I don't have a sole favorite person. I love many people in different ways for varying reasons. Are there any chores you actually enjoy doing? No. When did you last have an "Oh, I get it now!" moment? Watching Attack on Titan yesterday w/ Girt. Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? My mom HAD to have suspected I was doing something FAR worse than innocent meerkat RP to have borderline fucking traumatized me invading my privacy and forcing shit out of me regarding what I was always doing on the computer so secretively. Like I get it, she was a concerned mother, but I was a fucking WRECK because I found it so embarrassing. It was insulting that she didn't trust her well-behaved daughter. What do you think about video games? They're great for both the creators and consumers. They're wonderful expressions of creativity, and so much fun to experience as a player, delving into a new world and getting engrossed in the story. I could go onnnn and onnnnn about what video games mean to me. I've gone my whole life as a loyal gamer. Are there any forms of Art you personally find pointless? I really, really don't get a lot of abstract art that's worth fucking thousands, BUT, I absolutely disagree that they are without purpose. The artist created what they did for SOME reason. As a distraction, a method of expressing emotion, to convey an idea... Are you tired right now? I have been SO ridiculously tired today. Like it's unreal. I've taken I wanna say three naps and I'm still sleepy. What’s something you do a lot? Drink something. I'm not talking about alcohol; just in general, I ALWAYS need some kind of drink by me, and I go through drinks pretty quickly. Are you currently on any other websites? Yeah, I'm watching YouTube. Are you good at using Photoshop? I'm decent, I guess. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? Yes, actually, at least by my mom, and she's right. My head tends to tilt VERY slightly to the right, and I can tell by how easy it is to bend my head that way as opposed to left. I'll feel a biiiit more strain.

1163

survey by l-baby

When was the last time you went out to eat? Where did you go? It would be a month this week; I just went to Feliz for some truffle pasta and hot chocolate to treat myself.

Who was your last e-mail from? I have no idea. I also have no intent to check because my weekend’s just starting. Maybe tomorrow or Sunday when I do my usual weekend unreading of new emails that come in so that my emails won’t look as clogged on Monday.

Have you ever watched a whole hour long infomercial? I probably did as a kid but definitely not recently.

What are your plans for tonight? Catch up on surveys since I haven’t taken any all week...and catch up on the 8 years’ worth of BTS content I stupidly refused to consume this whole time. I have a feeling that’s all this weekend’s going to be but I have no complaints whatsoever lol.

When was the last time you had an alcoholic drink? Around two weeks ago when I mixed soju and Yakult together.

Look to your left and down, what do you see? I can see a part of the pillow I’m sitting on, as well as the cord for my night lamp.

Could you go for a nap right about now? It’s past 10:30 PM so any ‘nap’ I would attempt to take will most likely turn into 6–7 hours, so I don’t think is possible anymore.

Do you ever watch the Food Network channel? I don’t think we ever had it when we had cable, actually. But I can see it being a channel I’d check out regularly for all the cooking content.

Have you taken a shower today? Yeah, this morning. I can go for another but I’m just too lazy, plus I’ve already lit up my candle and I don’t want to leave it unattended.

Are you in a relationship? If so, who are they and do you love them? I am not.

Do you like cheese? It’s okay and I like exploring new cheeses, but I’m not obsessed.

What did you do yesterday? The usual things I do at work since I had a shift yesteray. I also made the very reckless impulse decision to buy Ivy Park shoes (it’s my birthday month, so I gave myself a pass) and also bought Frankie’s, which I haven’t had in well over a year, for me and my family.

What's the weather like today? I was actually spending some time at the rooftop tonight since it was very windy and cold...but the wind eventually started interfering with my candle so I had to go back to my room. The ventilation isn’t quite as good here, so even though I have my windows open and all, I’ve started to sweat a bit and it’s just quite warm and uncomfortable overall. I’ll have to turn on my aircon in a bit.

Do you like rap? It’s okay but it’s not my favorite genre. My interest for Korean rappers definitely ballooned over the week since I started getting into BTS, though hahahaha.

What is your current myspace song?

Would you say that you give good advice? It depends on the situation, I would say. I can’t give advice on home improvement but I’m comfortable with giving advice on things like family or relationship issues. Basically things I’ve already gone through or have a better idea about.

Are you any good at cooking? I am no good at it.

What is your favorite kind of meat to put on your sandwich? Pulled pork.

Have you ever been in a competition? A few ones.

Do you like onion? Yessssss, I love them in all forms.

How about mushrooms? They’re fine. They never really taste like anything though?? which is why I don’t mind seeing them in my meals.

What is the best thing about your cell phone? It’s been pretty durable for a phone I’ve had for three years. Given how destructive I can be (lol), most never lasted that long with me.

Do you tend to cave into peer pressure? My friends have definitely served as influences when it comes to stuff I initially refused to try but eventually did, like drinking, vaping, etc., but I’ve always made sure that it’s my choice and that I’m comfortable trying a new thing at the end of the day.

Do you think it's attractive for a man to wear eyeliner? I don’t care about who wears eyeliner.

| Either Or |

Spicy or Bland? What’s the point of eating something that tastes bland? Haha my tolerance for spicy food isn’t the highest but I’d still prefer food that tastes like something.

Diet Soda or Regular Soda? Not a soda drinker.

Smoothie or Milkshake? Milkshake because as far as I know smoothies are supposed to be healthy and that a big chunk of them are made with fruits.

Sweet or Sour? Sweet. I hate hate hate sour foods.

Clean or Dirty? Clean, I guess. 

Slow or Busy? Busy. I thrive on activity, which is why I’ve always enjoyed large cities. I also prefer busy days at work, even though it can be exhausting. It’s nice to feel productive and accomplished at the end of a long day.

Big or Small? You’ll need to be more specific.

Shower or Bath? I find showers more relaxing.

Cold or Hot? Cold.

Short or Tall? Idk.

| More Questions |

What did you have for dinner last night? My mom made burgers. The Frankie’s I ordered was also supposed to be a part of dinner, but the branch I bought from was staaaaaaaaacked with other orders. My delivery guy informed me there were 50+ other delivery drivers waiting so my order would most likely take a while. In the end it took 2 1/2 hours for my order to get to me, but we were all full from dinner anyway so it was fine. I also didn’t want my driver to be stressed out so I assured him I was okay with the wait and that he doesn’t have to drive crazy fast to my house.

Do you pray often? I never do it.

Name three things you've done today: Took a long ass nap from 11 AM to 3 PM, found out my great-uncle has passed from Covid, had curry and roti for dinner.

Would your friends say you are a understanding person? I think they’d say I’m too understanding.

Are you close to either one of your parents? No.

Do you know anyone who snores when they sleep? Yeah.

Are your lips currently dry? A little but, but they aren’t chapped or anything like that.

Are your nails long or short? It’s long enough for a trim but it’s not disgusting levels of long.

Have you ever gotten food poisoning? Yup but just once. Not something I’d want to go through again.

Would you say that you are emotionally strong? I think I am now, yeah. For a long time I wasn’t.

What messenger services do you use? I have Messenger, Viber, Whatsapp, and Telegram on my phone and laptop.

What is your favorite pair of shoes? Right now it’s my Onitsuka Tiger sneakers, but I feel like my Ivy Park shoes will be my new favorite once they finally arrive hehe.

Do you change your myspace page often?

Are you listening to music currently? Yes, but it’s very faint.