#this set was rushed as the lights in my room are flickering as i typed but i think id die if i didnt post a set for his bday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cowgurrrl · 1 year

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Alone and Forsaken

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: “if there is a light then i am going to swallow it. if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.” - s. osborn, from “blasphemies at the 5th street station” aka you and Joel meet for the first time [3.0k]

Author’s note: god he’s so dramatic I love him (gif by @loregifs) also blame @pedges they told me to make this a cliff hanger

Warnings: canonical type violence, reader being a badass because I said so, enemies to ???

It was supposed to be a normal run. Get in. Get out. Try not to die at the hands of raiders or jumpy FEDRA officers or Infected. It seemed simple enough, and you trusted Tess. She would never put you in a difficult position if she could help, and even if she did, she'd be there to bail you out. So, you didn't think twice about climbing the stairs and knocking on her apartment door as FEDRA repeated orders about curfews over and over again.

Things have been getting tense in the QZ. Not that things haven't been tense since the Outbreak, but it feels like even the smallest thing is enough to get you hung these days. Cards are tight, rations are limited, and gunfire fills the days and nights. The Fireflies think they're getting closer to liberation, but liberation seems pretty fucking stupid when there's constantly innocent blood staining the streets. Watching bodies burn in the pit or listening to people screaming certainly doesn't make you feel liberated. You knock on Tess's door again, anxiety digging into your skull at her lack of a response.

When she doesn't answer the door, you pull your gun from its holster and keep it low as you turn the knob and walk into her apartment. The fact that her door was left unlocked does nothing to soothe your fears, but you ignore it. The living room is a mess, with first aid supplies strewn about and a handful of dirty dishes next to the couch. Nothing super out of the ordinary for her, you think as you turn toward the bedroom and come face to face with the barrel of a gun. Okay, so that's not normal.

You raise your own gun to match the looming man in front of you and plant your feet. If he tries to rush you, you could at least try to hold your ground long enough to get the drop on him. He's big, though— all broad shoulders, long legs, and strong hands choking the grip of his gun. His eyes are dangerously dark, almost black, as he stares you down with a brutal snarl on his lips. In another life where he's not holding a gun to your head, you would think he's handsome.

"Who the hell are you?" He asks, a deep southern drawl slurring his words together.

"Where's Tess?"

"'M afraid you're not in a position to be askin' any questions, sweetheart," He says. Your finger twitches on the side of your gun, and you set your jaw before you give him your name. A flicker of recognition sputters behind those deep brown eyes, but he hides it before it can linger. "I've heard a lot of shit about you."

"Yeah, I can tell by the way you're pointing a fucking gun in my face."

"I should shoot you."

"Then, neither of us gets what we want. And where's the fun in that, huh?" You ask. You also want to point out that he's had every opportunity to bury a bullet in your brain, and he's yet to do it, but you know not to push your luck with men like him. "Where is Tess?"

There's movement on the other side of the bedroom door before it flings open and reveals a bruised Tess. She looks terrible, with a rough patch of stitches holding the skin of her forehead together and a limp affecting her gait as she walks into the room. Her hair is wet, and she smells like the soap you trade for. Not the shitty FEDRA lard of soap, the nicely scented lavender bars of soap that come from somewhere way more peaceful than here. "Joel, would you drop the fucking gun? She's with me," she says, more than annoyed with him, before looking at you. "Jesus, it's like having a feral dog."

Nobody moves for a full breath until Tess gives the man, now known as Joel, a nasty look. You catch him grinding his teeth together, his jaw working as he thinks before finally putting his gun down. You follow the unspoken truce and wiggle your toes in your shoes to distract your racing mind. Who the fuck is Joel, and why is he in Tess's apartment? How does he know who you are? Why didn't he kill you the second you stepped foot in her space?

"You look like shit," you say, and she nods. "What happened?"

"Got into it with a group of raiders. Killed 'em all, but they made sure to get a few good hits in."

"Is that why you asked me about making this trade?" You ask. Joel gives Tess a look, and she rolls her eyes. Something unspoken travels between them, and she turns and holds up a finger to tell you to give her a second, and she grabs Joel, turning their backs to you. All of it gives the illusion of privacy when in reality, you catch every other word they say to each other. Something about Joel not trusting you, how he can do this alone and doesn't need "a goddamn babysitter." You think you hear the word "rat," but Tess doesn't care enough about it to change her mind. It's one of the many things you admire about her. That and her ability to be absolutely ruthless when she needs to be. You've seen her in action a handful of times, and every time, it reminds you not to get on her bad side. Tess tells him something you don't quite catch, but Joel's shoulders relax just enough for you to know that she's got him right where he wants him. "Are we gonna do this deal, or are we gonna point guns at each other again? I'm fine with either."

"You two are gonna go," Tess answers, and they both turn to look at you. "You just have to meet Cindy at the old 7/11 outside the walls. She's got bullets, pills, food, and some clothes to trade for what I gave Joel. Make sure it's all there before you let her walk away. She can be sneaky," she walks over to you and puts a gun in your hand. It's an older model but still something with a good amount of power. When you check the magazine, it's full. You look at her, confused by the gift, and she steps closer so only you can hear her. "I stole it from one of the raiders and figured you might need it. That old one's been jamming on you, anyways." She says simply, and you chew the inside of your lip to fight a smile.

"Thanks," you say, tucking the gun into your jacket and peering over her shoulder at Joel. "You trust this guy?"

"I do," she says, and you nod. It seems silly to put all your weight in Tess's opinion, but she hasn't steered you wrong yet. "Be smart about this. I don't need either of you coming back looking like me, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Joel is reluctant to leave with you, but one look from Tess, and he's following you out the door. He doesn't say anything as you wind down the crowded streets, ignoring the stray Fireflies or people you deal to, which you're fine with. You're not exactly excited to do this job with the man who shoved a gun in your face. He remains stony-faced and unreadable even as you approach the section gate.

"Walk in front of me." Joel finally speaks, switching sides with you so he's closer to the guard, and you scoff.

"How chivalrous. Do you make Tess walk in front of you, too?"

"No, she can hold her own."

"'M not dead yet."

"If you were, there'd be a lot less goddammed talking." He says, and you nod, dead set on proving him wrong. As you get closer to the gate, you spot a familiar face and let yourself animatedly light up. It's over the top and stupid, but you know he eats it up like a man starved.

"Sammy, how are we doing today?" You ask in a sickly sweet voice, and the guard gives you a look.

"I thought we talked about not calling me that while I'm on patrol." He says, and you pull a pout. Joel watches with a glint of something in his eyes, but you barely look at him.

"Oh, c'mon. You really gonna make me call you Officer Wilson?" You ask, and Sam shakes his head, a smile pulling on his lips. You pull your papers from your bag for him to look at, and Joel does the same. Sam looks between you and Joel and raises his eyebrows at you. "We're visiting a friend."

"I thought you didn't have any friends."

"You gotta stop believing everything you hear these days, Sammy. You know I'm friendly enough," you smile as he returns your papers. "Can we get through now, or are you gonna interrogate us for the rest of your shift?" You ask, and he mumbles something under his breath before buzzing you through the gate. You squeeze his bicep as you pass him and ignore the incredulous look on Joel's face. Together, you weave through the section until you find your usual opening in the wall and crawl through to the other side.

Boston was a shit hole even before the world ended, but outside the wall is a little more tolerable. There's sprawling greenery and actual animals that come through every now and again. The quiet is what always surprises you. Outside the QZ, you can hear the wind rustling through the trees and distant bird songs, and if you're observant enough, you can hear Infected groaning as they stumble around. You like to take a second to listen every time you're out, basking in the silence of a fallen city. "So, do you just have all the FEDRA officers wrapped around your finger or just that one?" Joel asks, interrupting your thoughts, and you laugh.

"My connections to them have nothing to do with wrapping them around my finger and everything to do with what I know about them and how much they want to keep a secret." You say as you trudge through the overgrowth.

"Like what?"

"Like Wilson failed his weapons test, but he's fucking his boss's secretary, so she forged the documents for him. He can't shoot worth a shit," you say, and he raises his eyebrows. You can tell he doesn't believe you, but you don't really care. "He also owes me cards, so there was no way he was gonna say anything."

"And how did you get that information?"

"Girl's gotta keep her secrets, cowboy," you shrug. "Do I get to ask you something now? It seems fair enough since you practically accused me of sleeping with the enemy."

"I did not," he starts but then stops himself, shaking his head. "Sure."

"What's your whole deal?"

"My deal?"

"Yeah, like the whole grumpy, southern survivalist deal."

"I don't think the apocalypse ever put anyone in a good mood," he says, and you hum. "And 'm from Texas."

"Long way from home." You say, and he nods. You tell him where you're from as payment for the tiny bit of information he's shared with you. These days, opening up is hard even when you trust the other person. It's no small feat that he answered your question.

You fall back into as comfortable a silence as possible with the practical stranger next to you. You don't ask about why he was in Tess's apartment, and he doesn't ask about what information you have about other FEDRA officers or how you got it. He constantly checks over his shoulder, making you nervous, but you don't say anything about it. You think it's probably a tick or those survival instincts of his kicking in as you get closer and closer to the run-down 7/11. He switches sides with you again, wordlessly putting you to his right, and you make a mental note to ask Tess about it. He's not jumpy, but he's protective, you guess, is the right word.

You see it in the way he walks next to you, and the way he adjusts the grip on his gun as Cindy and two young guys with guns come into view. Tess was right, you think. Having Joel around is like having a guard dog. Selfishly, you kinda like it. Cindy does not look happy to see you and crosses her arms over her chest the second she stops twenty feet from you. "Where's Tess?"

"Busy," you say. "I'm doing her a favor."

"Like you did me a favor? Or Robert?" she spits, and you roll your eyes. "How much longer do you think you can live with yourself, huh?"

"Do you want your fucking pills or not because we can call this off and go back to the QZ if you're gonna talk to me like that," you say. Joel clenches his jaw in your peripheral, staring down the two guys she brought as protection. At the same time, they seem to realize she would need way more than the two of them to keep her safe from you and Joel. "Withdrawl is a bad fucking look for you, Cindy. I'd hate for you to get any worse."

She doesn't say anything as she stares at you, the gears turning in her head. You can feel Joel's unease at the situation and the fact that you know something he doesn't. It seems to be a reoccurring theme for him this afternoon, and you're not sure how he feels about it. You shrug when she doesn't move and turn to start walking away. "Wait!" She calls, and you smirk before facing her again.

She makes her guys hand over the supplies Tess promised you, and you look them over. Cindy watches with shaky hands and darting eyes as you produce your end of the trade. The second the younger guard grabs the bag from your hand, a shot fires nearby, and the kid goes down. A hand finds your shoulder and drags you down as gunfire explodes all around you. All at once, Tess's story of her last drop comes flooding back. Raiders. You pull your new gun from your jacket and see Joel next to you, firing shot after shot into the gas station. They're mostly blind shots in the general direction of the firefight, but you spot the sniper on the gas station's roof.

You take a second to breathe as the bullets whistle above your head and fire a shot. The little handgun kicks back harder than your usual sidearm, but it gets the job done. You watch blood spray from the sniper's neck before following Joel's line of fire, firing a shot simultaneously. You don't know whose bullet hit where, but you know that the air around you stills and your ears ring so loud it feels like the sound will pierce your brain. Joel isn't bleeding or acting like he's been shot, so you take that as a good sign and let your body rest against the overturned truck he hid you behind.

Joel is looking into the shattered gas station windows when a pair of solid hands yank you from safety. You scream and thrash, throwing your head back until you make contact with something. Someone yelps, and the grip loosens enough for you to turn and shoot Cindy's second guard. Before his body can even hit the ground, movement sounds from behind you, and you quickly turn. Your heart is beating so fast, and your mind is working in overdrive as you struggle to lock your eyes on the raider trying to get the upper hand on Joel.

It's a mess of bodies, voices, and dust flying as Joel tries to protect himself. The raider has a knife to Joel's throat, and you quickly steady your hands against the gun's grip and fire two succinct shots. Joel jerks in shock as the bullets hit the raider, making him go limp. You let out a shaky breath and turn to scan the area to see if anybody else wants you dead.

"Are you fuckin' crazy? You almost hit me!" He yells as he stands and walks over to you. He's pissed. A pulsing vein pops out of his forehead, and you wonder if his teeth hurt from gritting them like a feral animal.

"Relax, I was not gonna hit you." You say, tucking your gun back in your jacket and moving to retrieve your supplies.

"Are you serious?" He asks, and you groan.

"Jesus Christ, are you always this dramatic? I wasn't even close to hitting you!" You yell, turning to face him again. It's not completely a lie. You were not going to hit him, but you're a little surprised the bullets didn't even graze him. Maybe you're a little better of a shot than you thought you were.

"You're a real piece of work. You know that?"

"Like you're much better. You'd be fucking dead if it weren't for me." You spit. In one movement, he puts his hands on your arms and pushes you against the wall of the gas station. You fight against him but freeze when you feel a knife tip pressing lightly against the bottom of your shirt. His body is flush against your own, his touch sending sparks across your skin. His breath fans across your face and neck, and his pupils widen as he stares at you.

"I've known you for less than a fucking day, and you've already almost gotten me killed. Everyone we've run into has said something about you bein' dangerous," he says, his voice rough as he holds you in place. "Who the fuck are you?"

if i forget about this goddamn tag list one more time: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel x reader #tlou fic #tlou part 1 #tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller the last of us #yes he’s a murderer but also i love him

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joltik-guy · 5 days

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[Electros plan]

{off screen post}

Joltik was so tired. The kind of tired that made your brain turn to mush inside your skull, that let the corners of your vision turn white. The kind of tired that wouldn’t go away.

The public hated them. Everyone hated them. And yet new vilgilantes popped up everyday, earning love and interest from the public. Paco, and now Juniper? It was pathetic. They did this before it was cool. Before it was common. What- do they just get all of the praise and attention, while Joltik fades into obscrurity. It wasn’t fair. People choosing this! They didn’t choose this!

Their vision goes completely white for they don’t know how long- it didn’t feel longer than a second- but it seemed to be morning, judging by the equipment lighting up, or maybe it wasn’t. They didn’t see sunlight anymore, their vision was far too degraded for that.

Their eyes almost immedaitly snapped to Electro, (HOW DID SHE GET IN!?) who glowed like the sun should. She grinned, standing behind glass, in a room Joltik was yet to enter. She stood on her tippy toes, attempting to set up some TVs, with several more already organised.

“Oh hello! Decided to join us have you?”

She’d been in for a while- and they hadn’t noticed. They had failed- no- not entirely. Not yet.

The jerk upright- their only goal now is to get to her. To get her.

“I can’t believe you sleep with you eyes open! Freaky!”

She giggled, adjusting the last TV, and moving to connect some wires.

Joltik reached the door, but yanking on the handle revealed it was locked. Electro tuts, sitting down on a swivel chair and sliding to a large computer in the room, typing faster than what seemed to be humanly possible.

“You’re not allowed in yet! I’m not done! You should’ve invested in some more sleep- you look terrible hah-”

Joltiks fists clench, attempting to smash the glass, in one swing. It doesn’t work. Even with their superhuman strength- it bounces off the glass, only leaving their hand throbbing. They look up at her, not in any humour for this.

“I fucking hate you.”

She turns around to face them at this, her face almost showing something akin to disappointment.

“Oh- I know. I know you do.”

At that moment, the door clicks open, seemingly for no reason, and joltik rushes in without thought. They lunge at her- only for her to take a step back onto the a wire carefully placed and glitch out of sight.

Joltik blinks.

What.

The door clicking closed again sickened them to their stomach. Turning revealed her.

Outside of the room. Standing on a wire, grinning wider than ever, some sort of remote in her hand. She walks up to the glass as the tv’s flicker to life.

“Oh I didn’t think you’d fall for that! But hey- Thank you for making this easy!”

Joltik frantically looks around the room, turning in a small circle. They were trapped. Their head began to sting as their joltik senses fired off, everything was wrong. So wrong. This was bad.

All of the TV’s begin to play the same footage. Black and white security footage of their last fight with electro. The villains on the screen begin to bicker.

Electro grins maniacally, rocking on her feet. Everything was falling into place perfectly.

Joltik walks to the oppisite side of the room, where a large sturdy looking machine sits, attempting to pull it apart yeilded the same results as trying to damage the window. Yet they keep trying.

The TVs playing joltik yelling out "You think I wanted this? Any of this? YOU THINK I WANT TO SPEND MY TIME FIGHTING YOU!?" makes them freeze.

Electro continues her monolouge.

“That really made me think, bug guy. I thought you wanted this- you wanted to be some sort of hero- but you sound bitter. You sound angry.”

Joltik gets back to attempting to break the glass dividing them,

“I am angry- LET ME OUT!”

“I’ve looked over your account, and honestly. I’m doing you a favour here.”

Joltik continues punching the glass, feeling something crack in their hand. Electro hears it and winces, tilting her head

“See- you’re destroying yourself- You always have, always will.”

The TVs start to play different footage this time, it seems like a compalation of joltik being injured, or hurt in their line in their work, including the infamous fight with minskt. She seems to have put a lot of work into this.

“I used to want to use this machine on myself- undo the rotom hybridity that was gifted to me, but I think you’re a much better candidate.”

Joltiks blood runs cold

“What.”

“Once this is over you’ll be normal! Just like you want! Just like you’ve always wanted!”

She begins to click buttons on the remote. The machine behind them making ‘power up’ noises

“NO – I DON’T WANT THAT- I DO NOT WANT THAT”

“Oh but you do! And your friends do too! It’ll be so much better for both of us. You’ll get what you want and I won’t have to deal with you bothering me anymore!!”

“LET ME OUT PLEASE PLEASE- PLEASE STOP THIS LET ME OUT!”

Electro giggles, before turning to joltik, any fun in her expression gone,

“It will hurt less if you’re still.”

With that the machine comes to life.

It was hard to tell if their screams were louder, or the machine itself.

#joltik guy #//off screen post #irl pkmn #pokemon roleplay #pkmn rp #pokemon #irl pokemon #pokereality #pokeblog rp #rotumblr #pokemon unreality #rotomblr

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rd0265667 · 11 months

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Hanni x Reader: Like you wouldn't believe

Staring blankly at the heart locket in her hand, Hanni fidgeted a little, pressing the little button, the clasp unlocking with a click You were always so beautiful, She could get lost in your eyes forever. Oh, if only she could.

It was 3 years ago, she still remembers clinging onto your shoulder, nagging you about the journey "Did you take your pills?" She questioned, rummaging around your bag as you chuckled, reaching to the front pocket of your bag "Would you just calm down darling, even if I don't take these pills, I still won't forget you. I could never forget you, my love." You turned to her, ruffling her hair. She puffed her cheeks up, as you chuckled, squeezing her cheeks and laughing. "I've got to go now darling, but I'll text you once I get a signal again, okay? I love you" You whispered into her ear, as she nodded, giggling as she felt your light breath on her neck, before mumbling a soft "I love you too" "Link up?" She took her locket, pulling it up as you chuckled, pulling your half of the locket, merging it to form a heart. "Stay safe!" She shouted out, hugging you before you left. If she knew what would happen, she would have hugged you just a little longer. Hugged you forever.

Resting on her couch, the news flickered on her television, shattering her heart. "A ship has gone down near the Pacific Sea, and while some were able to make it to the life boats, there are a number of passengers who have been missing." Rushing to her computer, She found the list of passengers who were missing and were unable to make it on the lifeboats, her heart sinking. L/N Y/N

Seeing feet shuffle from the corner of her eye, Minji looked at the locket in my hand, a look of sadness and pity on her face, before she took her seat next to Hanni, buckling up as the air steward reminded her of the turbulence. In an obvious bid to get her mind off the locket, Minji pulled out a file of documents, setting it on her collapsible table Inside the file was the information about a songwriter Hybe wanted them to meet, the song writer being in charge of their next song and wanted to meet the girls to better understand how the song writing should be approached Sighing, She pushed the documents away, having read it beforehand, her eyeline finding itself back on the locket, and the person inside it. Even now, her heart still yearns for you.

After dealing with the normal dose of paparazzi, the 5 girls found themselves in the back of the company chartered van, speculating on the mysterious person they were supposed to meet. This person's work had received critical acclaim from many artistes, and NewJeans were the first Korean GG to be able to partner up with them "Hopefully he or she isn't some eccentric billionaire type." Minji chuckled as the 5 girls descended from the van, the others lightly chuckling before they were let into the studio. The 5 entered a room with papers scattered everywhere, and in the middle of the room, a figure sat, spinning in the chair to face the girls "Hi, NewJeans, it's a pleasure to meet you." The figure got up, bowing and greeting the girls. While three of the girls bowed, two of them stood in shock Unable to contain herself, Hanni charged at the figure, throwing them into a tearful embrace. "Y/N! Where have you been!" Hanni shouted as you stood, stunned before Hanni was forcibly removed from Y/N "Miss, just because you're an idol doesn't mean you get to touch whoever you want!" She shouted, before turning to you "Are you okay baby?" "I'm fine Jen" Recoiling, Hanni looked in confusion "Y/N, don't you remember me?" She questioned, her heart slowly breaking once again "Who are you?" Y/N asked, slightly breathless from the shock Feeling short of breath, Hanni grabbed her chest, her hand finding the locket which had what seemed like the last thing that was of her Y/N. "Wait, that!" Jennifer exclaimed, reaching into a drawer at the table, pulling out the other side of the locket, Hanni's eyes flaring open. "That's it! That's the other side of the locket, see!" Hanni ran up, connecting the 2 sides together, unclasping the lockets, expecting to see the joined photo that she and Y/N had split up for the locket. Instead, where there was supposed to be her picture, a picture of the girl Y/N was with instead. That same girl approached Hanni, looking at her with a look of understanding now. "You knew Y/N before the incident?" She asked, Hanni nodding as Minji ran up to comfort her. She then lead Minji and Hanni out into the empty hallway, as she introduced herself as Jennifer, or Yunjin if they preferred her Korean name, then explained what happened.

Jennifer was out at a nearby river, fishing when a small glint by the river caught her eye, and as Jennifer rowed over, she was shocked to find someone unconscious, hunched over a piece of debris as the waters buoyed the debris, waves dictating the movement. In shock, Jennifer quickly pulled the unconscious body onto her boat, rowing back to her house, where her mom, who just was a doctor, did preliminary checks on the body. After doing checks on the body, other than a concussion, no other major injuries had been sustained. You eventually came to consciousness, awaking in the small hospital ran by Jennifer's mom, the only hospital in the small town she lived in. You introduced yourself as Y/N, and thought that it was 2016. After checking the things you had on you, a locket with a picture ruined by the waters, and a bottle of pills., they did some checking, After some testing, Jennifer's mom determined that it was dementia pills, and that the concussion added with the early onset dementia resulted in memory loss, that would most likely be permanent(I know this isn't how Amnesia and Dementia interacts, but it's for the sake of the story)

Hearing that, Hanni fell backwards, Minji narrowly saving her from hitting the ground. 2016. Two years before you and Hanni got together. You meeting her. You forgot loving her. You forgot her. Her last promise to you. She forgot it.

As Hanni stood stunned in disbelief, Minji and Jennifer had to go back to official talk, agreeing to still continue the collaboration, Jennifer wanting Hanni to spend some time with you too. Even though she was your girlfriend, she didn't think it was her place to stop you from getting your memories back.

The meal was awkward, to say the least. Minji had explained the situation to the other 3 girls, and now, the 7 of them sat at the table together. Sensing the tension at the table, and the conflicted look on Hanni's face, Jennifer began serving up food to the NewJeans members and Y/N, setting a special side of Avocados for Y/N "Y/N doesn't like avacados." Hanni said, voice dripping with jealousy, and a little despair. "I do...Maybe the person you knew didn't like them, but I do." You said, Jennifer recoiling slightly at the harsh tone she had never heard you use before. Hanni stared at you lifelessly, before running out, tears dripping as Minji excused herself, going to comfort her friend. Frustrated, you buried your face in your hands. You hated this feeling. Slamming your fists on the table, you left, Jennifer chasing after you as the 3 girls were left sitting at the table, unsure of what to do.

"Y/N, why are you acting like this!" Jennifer questioned, looking slightly disappointed as you crossed your arms, your stern demeanour not dissipating. "You know I don't like thinking about the past, and now you're keeping someone here who's going to make me think of it 24/7, without even asking me first." You shot back, Jennifer pursing her lips together before walking to you, lightly holding your hand "Put yourself in her shoes Y/N. What if I disappear one day, and you thought I was dead for 3 years, only to discover that I was alive all that time, but I didn't remember you anymore and didn't want anything to do with you. How would you feel..." You hung your head, she was right, you hadn't considered how difficult this must be for Hanni. "I'll do what I can."

"Hanni, are you okay?" Minji shouted frantically as she raced through the studio, trying to find Hanni, only to find the Vietnamese girl burying her fist into a wall, screaming and crying as the wall felt merely a fraction of the hurt Hanni was feeling, her bloody knuckles colliding with the drywall, staining the white walls. "It's broke! Broken! A promise I spent the last 3 years believing. BROKEN!" Hanni screamed, unleashing another flurry of punches into the wall before falling to the side from exhaustion, her tears staining the ground she laid upon as Minji looked, the fact that her friend was in pain and she couldn't do anything about it was eating her up inside. She wanted so badly to help Hanni forget this pain she was feeling, forget how much it all hurt, but how? She got her love back, only to lose her love all over again. Minji wanted to tell Hanni that it was all going to be okay, that it wouldn't hurt so much, but Hanni had been lied to too many times. This would just be the latest in a long string of heartbreaking lies. As Minji helped Hanni up from the ground, Jennifer ran over, hearing the commotion, calling out for you to get the first aid kit.

"Are you okay?" You asked, lightly applying ointment to Hanni's knuckles, the idol gritting her teeth in pain "What do you care." She muttered out, her voice now monotonous. "I'm sorry, Ms Pham." You muttered out, cursing yourself the moment you said it, aware of the hurt it caused Hanni, noticing the void in her eyes as you applied the dressing over her wound. "Save it." She said icily, the only way she could talk without breaking down again. As you secured the dressing, she stood up, her left shoulder colliding into you as she left. From the back of the room, Jennifer came out, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Ms Pham? It's like you want to break her heart..." Still lightly peeved from the bump earlier, you rolled your eyes "You're forgetting that I don't know her! I might be her former lover, but to me, she's just Miss Pham. Pham Hanni of NewJeans. Nothing more than a business acquaintance. Nobody." You grumbled out, Jennifer sighing before tensing up, noticing a shadow at the door that bolted away just moments after. This was going to be tough. "Aish, just try, for her sake alright? We have a recording session in 3 hours." Jennifer said, patting your back as you packed up the first-aid kit

"So I whipped up some demos for you guys based on the music I've heard from you guys recently, have a listen." You explained, before turning the speakers on. Jennifer was sitting at your side, helping you with the inputs, and the NewJeans girls were sitting behind you two As the music played on, you couldn't help but look with a twinge of guilt at Hanni. From the few videos you had watched of her, she was usually a pretty bubbly and cheerful girl, so seeing her so lifeless and sad, especially because you were the cause of it, wasn't a great feeling. Behind you, Hanni sat at her seat, devoid of emotion, despite her rather pivotal role when it came to NewJean's discography, her mind was blank. Nobody. Nobody. That's all she was to you now. Nobody. She lowered her head once again, before something caught her eye, as she pulled a tissue out, extending it to you. Just before you could ask Hanni what that was for, you let out a sneeze, grabbing the tissue from Hanni's hand before uttering a thanks "How did you-" "Your right ear twitches before you sneeze." Hanni explained, averting her gaze from you once again "Wow, I didn't even know about that." You exclaimed, a little surprised that Hanni could notice something so minor "Yeah, not bad for a nobody huh?" Hanni shot back, your face lowering as you realised she had heard what you had said previously "Let's focus on the music, shall we?" Sensing the tension, Minji stepped in, trying to prevent another incident. You nodded, turning back to the computer as you felt Hanni's eyes on you, not knowing just how much longing and hurt hid behind her emotionless eyes

After the music session, the 5 girls headed back to the hotel, Haerin whispering to Danielle in the back of the van, Minji holding Hyein as she rested, all eyes on the heartbroken girl in front of them. Even as she slept, Hanni was plagued with a nightmare. A nightmare that was so real. Maybe because it was. Because the moment Hanni lost you all over again kept replaying in her head. She didn't have you back for more a minute, before cruel fate ripped you out of her arms once again.

Hanni knew it was a bad idea. She knew that it was just going to hurt going back to the studio early, by herself. But like a moth to a flame, no matter how badly it hurt her, she so desperately wanted to see you again. So, 2 hours before her group mates were supposed to leave the hotel, she left on her own, travelling to the studio. Walking into the studio, Hanni froze, her mind travelling back to the happy times she used to have with you, as your melodious laugh filled the studio. Hanni missed that laugh so much. She would watch your videos together when she was sad, when she was missing you, and watched the way you and her used to have fun, the way you would laugh out in joy and ecstasy when you beat her in a video game. But a video recording couldn't capture the way you made Hanni's soul feel a little better when you laughed, how you would make her happy when she didn't think she could be happy anymore. Hiding behind the pillar, Hanni peeked around it, seeing you tumbling around with Jennifer, your hair a mess as the two of you played around, jumping from place to place, side to side, giggling as she landed on top of you, tickling you as the two of you laughed, smiling and screaming. From behind the pillar, Hanni found herself smiling too. You were happy, Hanni missed seeing you happy.

Noticing the new shadow in the studio, Jennifer quickly got up from on top of you, awkwardly smiling to Hanni, "Hey Hanni, anything wrong?" Hanni smiled back, a happy look you hadn't seen since you met her two days ago. "Nope. Nothing at all"

The week went by in a flash. You and Jennifer produced about 3 songs for NewJean's new comeback, and you found yourself having pretty good chemistry with Hanni, working together well and bouncing off of each others ideas. Hanni was back to how you saw her on those variety shows, happy and energetic, messing around with her members in the studio and being an overall funny person. It was fun. The day that NewJeans headed to the airport to head back to Korea, you and Jennifer travelled to send them off. As you waved goodbye to them, you signalled to Hanni to wait a little, before turning to Jennifer, lightly grabbing her hand and squeezing it. "Could you wait in the car?" You asked, Jennifer getting a little nervous as she looked at you in confusion "I'll be with you in a bit. There's just something I have to do."

"What did you want to talk about?" Hanni asked as the two of you leaned on the railings to the departure hall. "I just wanted to apologise for the way I acted when you first got here, and say that I'm sorry I'm not the person you want me to be." You explained, looking up as Hanni turned over to look at you. "No, it was my fault, I shouldn't have acted as if you owed me your old self, and don't apologise. You might not be the person I fell in love with, but who you are isn't so bad either. Besides, I'm glad you're happy with Jennifer, she really loves you" Smiling, the two of you exchanged glances, before Hanni checked her phone, Minji rushing her to get in. "I've gotta get going. See you around" Hanni said, pulling her luggage along with her as she turned toward the hall, as you said goodbye, turning to move to the car. As Hanni walked slowly, she halted in her tracks once more as she heard your voice travel over to her. "I bet we were fun." You said, tears dripping down Hanni's face as a bittersweet smile adorned her face, reminiscing on all the happy moments she had with you. "Oh, like you wouldn't believe."

#angst #rd0265667 #hanni #hanni x reader #pham hanni x reader #newjeans x reader #newjeans hanni #hanni fanfic #pham hanni fanfic #new jeans pham hanni fanfic

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dc-and-arfrona · 9 months

Text

First Kiss - BatBoys Headcannons

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Batboys! x GN!Reader

Type: Angst

Word Count: 2.8k+

Masterlist

Summary: First Kiss

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Batman / Bruce Wayne Bruce’s POV

As the sun dipped below the horizon, I found myself eagerly awaiting the arrival of (Y/N) at Wayne Manor. There was something about them that had captivated me from the moment our paths crossed. Perhaps it was their unwavering sense of justice or their remarkable intelligence that drew me in. Whatever the reason, I couldn't deny that I was inexplicably drawn to them.

The dinner was set in the elegant dining room, the flickering candles casting a warm glow over the surroundings. I dressed in my formal attire, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I waited for (Y/N) to join me at the table.

Throughout the evening, conversation flowed effortlessly between us. For once, I found myself opening up and sharing more about my life and my inner thoughts than I ever had before. With (Y/N), it felt different - there was a level of comfort and understanding that made me feel like I could be myself without the weight of my responsibilities as Batman.

After dinner, we decided to take a leisurely walk through the expansive gardens of Wayne Manor. The moonlight painted the landscape in silver hues, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. As we strolled side by side, I couldn't help but feel a growing tension in the air, as if something important was about to happen.

Eventually, we found ourselves standing on a stone bridge, the soft sounds of the pond below creating a peaceful atmosphere. I looked at (Y/N), and they met my gaze with a reassuring smile. It was in that moment that I felt a rush of courage.

I gently reached out to cup their cheek, and before I could utter a word, (Y/N) closed the distance between us and placed a tender kiss on my lips. My heart soared as I realized that the person I admired and respected so deeply reciprocated my feelings.

As we pulled away, I saw a radiant smile on (Y/N)'s face, and it warmed my heart. For so long, I had convinced myself that being Batman meant sacrificing personal happiness. But in that moment, I knew that I couldn't deny what I felt any longer.

"I don't know where this will lead," I began, my voice filled with sincerity, "but I want to explore it with you. You're someone I can't imagine Gotham without."

Their affectionate response filled me with hope, and I knew that I had found someone special - someone who understood the complexities of my life as both Bruce Wayne and Batman.

"I'll be here, Bruce, no matter what. Let's face whatever comes together," (Y/N) replied with unwavering support and love.

In that moment, I embraced the possibility of a love that could change my life forever. Together, we were ready to face the challenges ahead, standing side by side as partners in both love and justice. With (Y/N) by my side, I felt stronger, more determined, and hopeful for the future - a future where I could be both Bruce Wayne and Batman, while also being loved for who I truly was.

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Nightwing / Dick Gayson Dick’s POV

As Nightwing, I had always been known for my confidence and composure, but when it came to (Y/N), my heart would race like never before. (Y/N) was extraordinary - their courage, intelligence, and unwavering support for me as Nightwing and as Dick Grayson made me feel a connection unlike anything I had experienced.

One evening, as we patrolled the streets of Gotham together, I found myself stealing glances at (Y/N) whenever I thought they wouldn't notice. They had this captivating energy that lit up the darkest corners of the city, and being around them made even the most dangerous nights feel a little less daunting.

After a particularly intense night of crime-fighting, we decided to take a moment to rest on a rooftop, away from the chaos below. The city's skyline sparkled with lights, but it was (Y/N)'s presence beside me that truly illuminated my world.

As we sat together, I couldn't help but feel a growing desire to express my feelings for them. It was a risk - putting my heart on the line could jeopardize our friendship, but I couldn't ignore the connection we shared any longer.

With a deep breath, I turned to (Y/N), my heart pounding in my chest. "Hey, there's something I need to say," I began, trying to keep my voice steady.

They looked at me, their eyes full of curiosity and warmth, encouraging me to continue.

"You mean a lot to me, more than I can put into words," I confessed, feeling the weight of vulnerability in my admission. "I've been trying to deny these feelings, but I can't anymore. Being around you, working with you as Nightwing and spending time as Dick Grayson... it all means so much."

Their gaze softened, and a small smile tugged at the corners of their lips. "Dick, you don't have to say anything if you're not ready," they replied gently, their support evident even in moments of uncertainty.

"No, I want to say this," I asserted, determined to share my emotions honestly. "The truth is, I care about you deeply, (Y/N). And I can't help but wonder if there's something more between us."

In that moment, I held my breath, anxiously awaiting their response. It felt like an eternity, but finally, (Y/N) reached for my hand, interlocking their fingers with mine. Their touch sent a surge of warmth through me, and I couldn't help but smile in relief.

"Dick, you don't have to wonder anymore," they said, their voice soft yet certain. "I feel the same way. You've been a constant in my life, and I can't imagine it without you."

My heart soared with joy, knowing that they felt the same. In that simple gesture of holding hands, we discovered that our connection was deeper than friendship, and it was a beautiful realization.

From that night on, (Y/N) and I ventured into a new chapter of our lives, not just as crime-fighting partners but as partners in love. With them by my side, the weight of the world felt lighter, and every night of patrolling Gotham became a little brighter. As Nightwing, I continued to protect the city, but with (Y/N) as my anchor, I also found the courage to embrace love and happiness in a way I had never thought possible.

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Red Hood / Jason Todd Jason’s POV

Nervousness was a feeling I rarely allowed myself to experience, especially as Red Hood, the relentless anti-hero of Gotham. But as I stood before (Y/N), all of my defenses seemed to crumble, and my heart raced uncontrollably.

(Y/N) had a way of seeing through my tough exterior, and their unwavering support and kindness had touched a part of me that I thought was long gone. Yet, I couldn't shake the fear that my scarred past would somehow taint any chance of happiness with them.

One evening, we found ourselves alone on a quiet rooftop, the city's chaos a distant murmur beneath us. The soft glow of the city lights created an intimate atmosphere, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to (Y/N) in that moment.

As we talked, the air seemed charged with unspoken emotions, and I could feel the weight of my nerves pressing down on me. My mind was torn between wanting to kiss them and fearing that I'd mess it up somehow. I had faced villains and danger without a second thought, but this vulnerability was a new and unsettling sensation.

Finally, summoning the courage, I decided to speak my truth. "(Y/N), there's something I need to tell you," I began, my voice wavering slightly.

They looked at me with those compassionate eyes, giving me the strength to continue.

"I never thought I'd feel like this again. I've been hurt before, and I'm scared of opening up," I confessed, my guard slipping away as I spoke from the heart. "But being with you... it's different. You make me want to be better, to believe in the possibility of happiness."

My hands trembled slightly, but I took a step closer to (Y/N), drawn to them like a moth to a flame. I felt a mixture of anticipation and fear, unsure of how they'd react.

Before I could overthink it any further, (Y/N) reached out, gently cupping my cheek. Their touch was so tender, and it calmed the storm of nerves within me.

"You don't have to be scared with me, Jason," they whispered, their voice filled with sincerity. "I see the person you are beyond the Red Hood, and I'm here because I care about you."

Their words wrapped around my heart like a warm embrace, soothing my anxieties. And in that moment, I knew that I could trust them with my vulnerabilities.

Leaning in, I closed the distance between us, softly pressing my lips against theirs. It was a tentative kiss, filled with all the emotions I struggled to put into words. Their lips were soft and gentle, and the moment felt like it was suspended in time.

As we pulled away, I looked into their eyes, seeing a reflection of the affection I had discovered for them. With (Y/N) by my side, I realized that I didn't have to face the world alone, that I could allow myself to embrace love and the possibility of happiness.

In their presence, the weight of my past seemed a little lighter, and the future felt a little brighter. As Red Hood, I was a man of many secrets, but (Y/N) had found a way to unlock the part of me that yearned for connection and acceptance. And I was grateful for that - grateful to have them in my life and grateful to have taken that leap into the unknown, where love and vulnerability intertwined.

-----

Red Robin / Tim Drake Tim’s POV

I always prided myself on my intelligence and ability to analyze situations with precision, but when it came to (Y/N), my thoughts were anything but clear. They had a way of making me feel both exhilarated and uncertain, and as Red Robin, I was used to being in control, but their presence seemed to throw me off balance.

One evening, we found ourselves alone in the Batcave, surrounded by the shadows of the vigilant heroics that took place above ground. My heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to appear confident, though inside, I was a swirling storm of nerves.

I looked at (Y/N), and there was a flicker of hesitation in their eyes, mirroring the uncertainty I felt. We had been close friends and crime-fighting partners for a while, but there was something more between us that was left unspoken.

I decided to take a chance, pushing aside my unease, and I stepped closer to them. "Hey, (Y/N), there's something I've been meaning to do," I said, forcing a smile that I hoped would mask my inner turmoil.

They looked at me, waiting patiently for me to continue. It was as if they could see through my façade, and it made me feel both grateful and vulnerable.

"I... I value our partnership and friendship, and I don't want to hide how I feel any longer," I stammered, trying to keep my composure. "You mean a lot to me, and I... I think about you more than I should."

Inside, my heart was racing, and I feared that my attempt at feigned confidence would crumble at any moment. I had spent so much time analyzing every potential outcome, but in that moment, all my calculations seemed to fail me.

(Y/N) smiled gently, their warmth like a beacon in my turmoil. "Tim, you don't have to pretend with me," they said, their voice soft and reassuring. "I've always appreciated your intelligence and dedication, but what I value the most is the person you are beneath the Red Robin mask."

Their words were like a lifeline, and I felt a rush of relief knowing that they accepted me, vulnerabilities and all. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and made the decision to be honest.

Leaning in, I pressed my lips to theirs, trying to convey all the emotions that I couldn't put into words. It was an act of both bravery and vulnerability, as I let myself experience a moment of shared intimacy that left me feeling exposed.

As our lips met, I tried to maintain my composure, but the feeling of their warmth against me was intoxicating. It was as if the world around us faded away, and all that mattered was the connection we were exploring.

When we finally pulled away, I looked into their eyes, feeling a mix of nervousness and hope. "(Y/N), I... I care about you more than I can express," I admitted, my voice more genuine than I had been before.

They smiled, their fingers gently grazing my cheek. "I care about you too, Tim," they replied, their sincerity washing away any remaining doubts.

In that moment, I realized that showing vulnerability wasn't a sign of weakness but a testament to the trust we shared. And with (Y/N) by my side, I felt stronger, more capable of embracing the uncertainties that came with love. Our first kiss was just the beginning of a new chapter, one where I didn't have to pretend to be confident all the time, knowing that (Y/N) saw me for who I truly was and accepted me wholeheartedly.

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Robin / Damian Wayne Damian’s POV

The night was still and quiet as I found myself alone with (Y/N) in the Batcave. We had just finished a grueling night of crime-fighting together, and a sense of exhilaration mixed with nerves filled me. (Y/N) had become a crucial part of my life, and I admired their strength and dedication to justice.

As Robin, I was trained to keep my emotions in check, to hide any excitement or vulnerability. But with (Y/N), it was different. They made me feel something I couldn't quite put into words - a rush of emotions that I wasn't entirely accustomed to.

We stood facing each other, both a little breathless from the night's activities. I tried to maintain my usual stoic expression, but it was a challenge when my heart was pounding in my chest.

"(Y/N), you did well out there tonight," I said, my voice steady despite the excitement that bubbled beneath the surface.

They smiled at me, a twinkle in their eyes that made my pulse quicken even more. "Thanks, Damian. You were amazing too," they replied, their admiration evident.

I felt a surge of pride at their compliment, but I had to stay focused. I couldn't let my emotions get the better of me, not now. I needed to be in control, as always.

Yet, as I looked at (Y/N), I couldn't deny the pull I felt towards them. In that moment, my walls began to crack, and my emotions threatened to spill over. I wanted to show them how much they meant to me, but I was afraid of revealing too much.

Summoning what little courage I had left, I took a step closer to (Y/N). My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel my cheeks warming as nerves coursed through me.

Without saying a word, I gently reached out and cupped their cheek, feeling the softness of their skin under my fingers. It was a simple gesture, but it conveyed the emotions I struggled to express.

Then, with a mix of trepidation and excitement, I leaned in and pressed my lips to theirs. It was a timid, uncertain kiss, but in that moment, it felt like time stood still. The world around us faded away, and all that mattered was the connection we shared.

When we finally pulled away, I looked into their eyes, hoping they couldn't see the excited flutter in my heart. "(Y/N), I... I care about you," I confessed, my voice softer than I had ever allowed it to be.

They smiled warmly at me, their hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. "I care about you too, Damian," they replied, their words like a balm to my hesitant heart.

In that moment, I realized that it was okay to feel excited and vulnerable, especially when it came to (Y/N). They saw me for who I truly was, not just the stoic Robin but the young boy beneath the mask - a boy who was learning to navigate emotions and relationships.

With (Y/N) by my side, I knew that I could embrace the exhilaration and uncertainties that came with love, knowing that they would understand and accept me, no matter what. And as we stood there together, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and excitement for the future we would explore as partners in both justice and affection.

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solomonssock · 1 year

Text

I Know Joy Because I Know You

I didn't specify the type of alcohol so imagine whatever you'd wish! I imagine I’m enjoying a nice Shirley Temple to my heart’s content, cherries courtesy of Luce

Pairing: gn!reader x Lucifer (at last, an established relationship!)

TW: Alcohol use, some brief discussion of Devildom politics, some intense wooing, very brief mention of violence, uhh let me know if there's anything else, ty!

Word Count: ~4,400

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Now then, MC." A faint click sounds behind you as Lucifer locks the door to his office. "What have you brought for me tonight?"

"Something I hope you'll enjoy." You spare him a coy glance over your shoulder, raising your brow with a knowing smile. "You're a fan of classical, no?"

The iron railing underneath your palm is cool to the touch as you begin to journey downstairs. Your hand drags against the grooves, feeling how some of the iron has dimpled in its wear over millennia. You hold a flat brown paper bag that you've tucked into your arm against you as you descend, trying to minimize the inevitable crinkling sound that follows every step you take.

You peer over the railing to the space below. The fireplace crackles every so often as it casts its light across the room, bathing everything before it in a warm orange glow.

“That, I am.” You shiver at the gruff timbre of Lucifers voice, his footsteps trailing close behind you.

He sounds as exhausted as you expected him to be after a full day's work. How he even remains upright among constant chaos forever remains a mystery to you. Really, you had insisted you two meet another night. Insisted that he rest with what little free time he was granted.

But his pride wouldn't have it.

"Don't be absurd." He had said then, will unyielding. "Such time would best be spent in your company. I am not so fallible as to push myself beyond my limits. I assure you; I have tested them enough to know them well."

At the bottom of the stairs awaits your shared reflection, crystal clear imitations in the perfectly polished tile. You've long forgone your uniform in favor of loungewear. Lucifer, however, remains as pristine and presentable as ever. At the very least, he has freed himself of his coat and gloves.

He comes to stand beside you, placing a bare hand onto the small of your back. The touch warms your skin as he rubs away the tightness he finds there in small, tight circles. You too, are quite terribly exhausted.

He presses a kiss upon your head.

"Please, have a seat."

He nudges you forward, toward the pair of chairs turned away from the fireplace. You set the bag onto the low table before plopping down and reclining into the plush red cushions. You can't see him, but you can feel Lucifer standing behind you, his presence heavy over the backrest.

"Thank you for joining me."

The indistinct sound of shuffling catches your ear, but the comfort of your current position persuades you from peeking. "The past few weeks have been stressful, I'm sure. Midterms at R.A.D., for a human no less, are no easy feat."

"Yeah." You hum, eyes drooping at the pleasant warmth prickling your skin from the flames flickering behind you. "They were tough, but everyone was helpful in reviewing all the material."

"Everyone?" You're well acquainted with the suspicion underlying that tone.

"Yes, Lucifer. Everyone." Your eyes slip shut. "Even Mammon and Leviathan." He huffs somewhere above you.

"I'm certain their motivations were more in the interest of monopolizing your time than in helping you succeed." You can feel Lucifer bend down behind you, the force of his breath rushing against the shell of your ear. "However, it seems their efforts have paid off."

"You have done well, beloved. Nearly perfect marks on most of your exams."

You take a deep breath, fighting the blush threatening to spread across your cheeks at his praise. You're still not quite used to these pet names.

"I'm just glad it's over with. It was a lot, but I bet it's nothing compared to what you've been dealing with on a daily basis."

Your eyes shoot open as you feel Lucifer's hands latch onto your shoulders. You groan at the pressure built in there as he prods at the space with his thumbs, mapping out all of your tension. Slowly, but surely, his fingers begin to press into the skin there, unrelenting on the sore muscles that lie beneath. Unable to hold your head up any longer, you flop backwards and peer up at the demon.

With his back to the fireplace, a darkness overcomes his features. The shadows fail, however, to mask the sinful gaiety swimming within his eyes. From this position, you watch as the warmth awaiting behind him twists and turns, fighting against itself. Flames flickers to and fro, as if his presence alone commands hellfire.

You're pinned down by his gaze. His heady eyes are like a glass of full-bodied red wine, and being their sole focus makes your head all hazy. Yet, you catch on to how they crinkle at their corners, accompanying his wicked grin as you become all but pliable in his hands. As your head rolls a bit to the right, you note the lack of strain that accompanies the action.

Lucifer is a damn good masseuse.

But really, he should be the one receiving such lavish treatment. Hopefully, you think, he'll come around to taking pride in your desire to care for him so that you can return the fa-

Your heart nearly leaps into your throat as you catch a glimpse of bare forearm in your peripheral. You conclude that must have been the shuffling you heard earlier - the rolling of sleeves. A snort of amusement sounds above you in response to your shock.

"Are you so easily distracted by the sight of bare skin?"

Well, no, you think.

"Just yours."

You curse your loose lips and brace yourself to be lectured by your lover. But nothing comes. A small "hmph" draws your attention towards Lucifer and your pulse quickens at the captivating sight before you.

His brows pulled together, eyes flickering between you and the wall, and a blush warming his pale cheeks makes you swoon. You coo internally at the pout that pulls at his lips; the same one you had mistaken as a frown for so long. You reach up and place your hands upon his forearms, hands squeezing the skin tenderly.

"Beautiful." You mumble.

Had you not been watching him so intently; you'd have missed how his eyes had widened. As they come to settle once more onto your own, you still. You're not sure what to make of the dangerous glint bouncing within them. Lucifer smirks as his hands pause in their task.

He cocks his head before he descends upon you. You breathe him in, the familiar scent of frankincense and leather leaving you dizzy as his lips brush lightly against your own.

You close your eyes, lips pursed.

"While I appreciate your admiration in all its forms." Your breath hitches as Lucifer's form shakes above you with a snicker. "It is well beneath you to undermine your achievements."

As you feel his form recede from you, you sit up, mouth agape. That's what you get for teasing him, you suppose.

"Seriously though, Lucifer. Such stress can't be good for you." You had found him nearly half asleep at his desk at least two times this week.

Lucifer waves off your concern as he saunters over to his desk. Papers are piled into neat stacks, an open envelope can be found here and there, and within the coffee mug that holds his pens you find one you'd gifted him from a museum in the human world.

"We have already discussed this at great length. Unfortunately, there are some roles which only I can, and must, fulfill." Bending over his desk, you watch Lucifer reach for something on the seat of his chair. When he turns to face you again, a large wicker picnic basket dangles by his side. In just a few strides, Lucifer comes to stand before you. He reaches a hand out to your cheek and you hold it there, leaning into his touch.

"I only ask that you humor me in these moments when I have the rare occurrence to mix business with pleasure."

Pulling away from you, Lucifer uses the space beside your package on the low table to lay out what he's packed for the two of you. You soon recognize the assortment of treats to be your favorites from Hell's Kitchen. You gasp when your eyes happen upon the wrath beast tartar. You'd only had the privilege of tasting during the very far and few private dinners between you, Lord Diavolo, and Lucifer himself.

"Lucifer." He simpers at the way you call out to him, looking quite pleased with himself as you gaze in awe at the spread before you. "A few treats are fine, but this is too much. At least let me pitch in next time."

"You will do no such thing." You know better than to push him when his tone is so firm. "Such costs are miniscule in the face of your accomplishments this semester. " He lays out one final dish, giddy goop pie, before closing the basket and resting it on the floor beside the low table.

"Your grades are impressive. But your ability to corral the others is an achievement all of its own, especially on days when they insist on being endlessly troublesome. Such order seems beyond my means without disciplining them." On a plate, Lucifer piles a couple of pickings for you to partake in before he hands it to you with a soft smile.

"I hope they are all to your liking."

Sauteed wild hare liver, shadow goose meat, egg lasagna, and so, so, much more. Every bite goes down smooth, flavor bursting across your tastebuds. There's no way you'll be able to work through every course, so you ponder over what you'll pack into a plate or two to stash away in the private mini fridge hidden within your room.

"Ah, it's all so good!" You murmur absentmindedly, stabbing your fork into another piece of whole roasted havoc devil and popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

A chuckle to your left catches your attention. Lucifer sits in the seat beside you, reclined against the cushions with an arm resting over the backrest. Despite the feast before him, his gaze consumes you whole. You begin to chew slower, feeling self-conscious that you are the only one eating.

"Do you not want any?" You set your fork down and face him more fully.

"If it pleases you, I'll take a plate. Although," you fidget in your seat as his eyes rake down your form, "I am sated as is. Indulging you is quite filling."

"O-oh." You smile shyly before looking down at your plate. You lift your fork, using its prongs to poke at the egg lasagna. "I'd like for you to enjoy this with me, not, you know, just me."

"As you wish."

Without another word, Lucifer stands and prepares a plate for himself. Steadily you two work through the dishes, never finishing, but at least sampling each plate.

"I am grateful, really," you laugh, belly full, "but why buy this much? You must have known we wouldn't finish it all."

"Well," you flush at the fondness with which he takes you in, "I was unsure which you would prefer more. It would have been a shame to lack in anything you might have desired." You are humbled by the admission. All of this, just for you, so that there was little chance you'd be disappointed.

"No matter. Whatever we do not finish, will be finished, eventually." The amusement in his tone makes you giggle.

"Yes, I'm sure the others will be all too happy about this." Lucifer sits up and begins to re-package the dishes. Although he protests, you join him and soon enough develop a rhythm that has the low table back to its original state in no time. You go to sit down again as you hear a ping echo in the room.

Lucifer reaches into his back pocket, fishing out his D.D.D. He heaves a heavy sigh as he looks over the screen.

"Back to business?" You see the briefest hint of annoyance overcome his features.

"I've been tasked with surveying candidates to fill a vacant teaching position." Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "There is a high volume of applicants. However, I must ensure that they are capable of honoring Lord Diavolo's demands and are up to standard before I pass their files over to Barbatos."

"Up to standard?" You tilt your head to rest it against the cushion. It's rare for him to divulge working matters to you.

"Whoever is selected will be within close proximity to the future king." He answers, clicking off the phone and shoving it back into his pocket. "Credentials are important. But my concern lies with their motivations for teaching at R.A.D. now that we've begun this exploratory program."

"Because of Solomon and I?" You feel a small pang in your chest. You know you're not to blame, but you hate creating more work for him, even if unintentionally.

"It is a matter beyond the students currently in attendance. This is, of course, only the initial stages for our Lord's desire to begin open communication between the three realms."

"As one can imagine, when such channels become open, problems will arise. Those in opposition of current leadership are likely to rebel and having connections within the school will only further increase their chances of contact with the Student Council, or worse."

Your mind spins with the revelation that even your relationship with Lucifer carries a political undertone. You know not all demons have been favorable of the program, but having witnessed the strength of the Avatars, the thought that any of them could be defeated, that Diavolo could be defeated, had escaped your mind. Your shoulders curl forward as dread begins to seep in. It's a terrifying realization and a reality you hope this timeline will never face.

"Calm yourself."

A finger hooks beneath your jaw, lifting your head to meet Lucifer's brooding gaze as he appears before you on one knee.

"I do not wish to instill unnecessary fear within you. I will not allow any of us to be put in such a precarious position. Of that, I give you my word."

You nod, reaching up to take his hand within your own. You and the others have been up to your usual antics, unaware of the potential severity of internal conflict brewing under Lucifer's watchful eye. The weight he bears is more oppressive than you could even begin to understand. You can't imagine a single soul who could handle the immense pressure of such a grave task in stride as he does.

"I don't fear for myself." You press a kiss to the back of his hand and feel his fingers wrapping tighter around yours. "But that does put me at ease. Thank you, Lucifer. I know..."

You do not doubt where you stand in his heart, but often question your place in matters dealing with Diavolo.

"Know what?" He asks. You take a deep breath, and steady your gaze upon his. You want him to take this seriously and know that you mean it.

"I know there might not be much I can do for the time being, and you have done well on your own. But, if there comes a day when I can help you, regardless of the task, I ask that you don't hesitate. I understand these matters are way beyond my understanding, but I want you to place your trust in me."

Your chest seizes as silence fills the room, but Lucifer is merciful enough to stop you before you can stew in your anxiety. Carefully, he pulls your hand within his to his lips, pressing a kiss of his own onto the skin.

He says nothing as he stands, but that is much better than rejecting you outright. He's acknowledged your request, and that is enough for now.

"Since we have finished dinner, shall we move on to a review of your performance? I would also like to set aside some time to address expectations for the remainder of the semester." You perk up as he steps over to the liquor-lined shelves.

The actual reason you'd been called to his office had slipped your mind. Each semester, Lucifer conducts a one-on-one midmester progress check-in with each brother. Having come to live under his household, you have not been spared from the formality.

"Is that what I hope it is?" You'd agreed to the meeting, but that didn't mean you two couldn't enjoy it thoroughly. Lucifer shakes his head softly with a snort.

"If you are suggesting that it is your favorite alcoholic beverage from the human realm, then yes. That is what we agreed upon."

You feel excitement welling up within you as he walks back with two glasses. You've wanted to drink with him for some time, but demonus has no effect on humankind. So, he had proposed an exchange in preparation for your meeting: human liquor for acceptable grades.

You spare a look to the bag that sits on the table.

You couldn't just leave it at that though, so, you had asked that he allow you to put in a private request. You've selected something else to exchange with him, something you have wanted to share with him after your time back in the human realm.

You two sit for some time, sipping on your drinks as you go through the usual routine. With each course and thorough grade evaluation, time seems to slow. Warmth bursts from within your chest, whipping wildly throughout your body, and radiates from your cheeks. Having paced himself, Lucifer appears much the same as before, but his face is not unaffected by the same flush that has overcome you.

"It pleases Lord Diavolo that you have adjusted so well and have decided to continue your studies here in the Devildom." He sets your report down onto the low table before reclining back into his seat.

Oh. It seems you two have finally finished. How lovely.

"You have made a rather fine impression for humanity, despite this unexpected arrangement. Such performance bodes well for us all."

"It pleases just Lord Diavolo?" You quip, raising a brow at him over your glass.

Lucifer turns to you, a wry smile on his face as he takes a swig of demonus.

"You would have me put my praise into words when I've already laid it out for you here," he motions to first to your glass, then to the basket still resting upon the floor, "and here?"

When your eyes have finally caught up to his motions, you look to him, a wicked grin rivaling his own.

"Would that be so terrible, Lucifer? I do love the sound of your voice." You tease, brain unfiltered as you sway in your seat.

"How brazen of you to question my opinion of you. Do you not wear my mark upon your skin, Master?" A pleasant shiver crawls through you as he purrs the title only reserved for moments like these, hidden away from world.

You reach for your collar. Beneath it, a thrum of magic buzzes against your fingertips. You can only make out the faint glow of royal blue, but do not doubt that Lucifer can see his pact mark in all its glory as he calls it forth.

Even so, you pay it no mind, gaze unflinching as you keep your attention on him. You do, however, trace your finger over the markings you have memorized. Beneath Lucifer's black buttoned up, skin starts to glow.

Lucifer sighs heavily, but his tone is filled with adoration. "You are insatiable."

You scoff. "And you're not?"

Your mind flashes with all the stolen kisses the demon has sneaked in between meetings, in hidden hallway corridors, and on early morning walks through the garden before the others have risen. With the countless days you've found notes hidden within your room wishing you a good morning, in the kitchen to remind you to eat, and in the common area requesting that you not stay up too late on the days he is called away on business.

Your favorite, however, are the late-night texts he sends when you are out for the night, always wishing for your wellbeing and safe return to him.

Your jaw drops as Lucifer combs his fingers through his hair, chortling in amusement all the while. The unrestrained display assures you that he is tipsy.

"Yes, as am I. There is much to do with so little time. It has kept me from you longer that I find acceptable most days." He muses as you finish the last sip of your third drink, quickly moving on to melting the ice that remains in your mouth.

"As selfish of me as it may be, I'd like nothing more than to keep you by my side."

Your focus returns to him alone as he leans forward towards you on the chair, forearms resting upon his knees. The image feels absurd as Lucifer's tie, loosened from the confines of his half-buttoned vest, simply dangles in the air. Truly, you laugh to yourself, it looks as free as he must feel right now.

"You think my desire for you to be insincere? Were you not the one clambering for my affections?" Your eyes widen and you try to suppress another laugh at his defensiveness to your personal amusement.

"Clambering?!" Yet, you go quiet as Lucifer stands and stumbles over to you. Once more, he kneels before you.

"I will make it certain that you never doubt my feelings for you." He sets his glass onto the table before his hands come to cup your face. You feel yourself burn up at his touch, and it only worsens as he begins.

"I adore you. I would rather be torn apart limb from limb than ever have to watch you leave my side. There will never be a day that I stop loving you and never will I cease my desire to pass the rest of my existence within the comfort of your embrace."

You feel faint.

"The thought I may ever disappoint you destroys me; that you might ever be angry with me causes me to lose all reason. I would live for you, die for you, kill for you if you ever wished it."

Your heart feels as if it's going to burst if he looks into your eyes like this any longer.

"I know joy because I know you. I loath to ever be apart from you and think only of how quickly I can return to you when I am away. Your mind, body, and soul have bewitched me for all eternity. I am forever devoted to your happiness, as it is my own."

Oh yes, you really think you might faint.

"We could rearrange this space." You have a brief respite as Lucifer's eyes flitter around the room in contemplation. There is no doubt in your mind that he can feel the warmth emanating from you, and not just from the liquor. "Maybe a desk to join mine so that I might have the pleasure of your company for as long as I'd like."

"Lucifer!" You whine, but he hushes you with a tender kiss.

"Yes, I'm quite taken with the idea. To gaze upon the holder of my affection as I wish with little interruption from others. How does that sound?"

You're breathless as he gazes into your eyes once more. You chide yourself for ever having questioned the depth of his affections in the past. All he does, he does for his family. A family that has claimed you as their own.

You are too tipsy to pour your heart out in a dignified manner, so you tuck away the idea to do so properly when you are sober. But you cup his face in your hands as he holds yours.

"Wonderful." You reply. "Nothing would make me happier than to love you, forever, and be loved by you, forever." It's not as grand as his prose, but it is enough to make Lucifer purr some. The quiet rumble shocks you. Rarely does he allow himself to be so carefree.

You are reminded that he has in fact had at least four drinks as his head droops down onto your shoulder. You hold onto him so that he does not fall, content to remain in this peaceful moment that belongs solely to the two of you.

After some time passes, Lucifer lifts his head off you.

"Might I confess something to you, my love?"

"Yes, Lucifer, dear. What is it?" You think you might like the way the term of endearment rolls off your tongue.

He glimpses to the low table beside the two of you. "This request of yours has tormented me for some time. Finally, will you share what you have been keeping from me?"

"Don't misunderstand me." You murmur, smoothing a finger over his brow before it furrows further. "It was never something to be kept from you."

You move to stand, and Lucifer rises. Upright, you pick up the package off the low table.

"It was always something I planned to share with you." You turn and hold it out to Lucifer.

"A trade is only fair if what is exchanged is of equivalent value. You brought me entertainment I am only ever able to enjoy in the human realm. So, I thought to bring a form of entertainment you could enjoy."

He takes the paper bag from you, raising a brow as he feels around inside.

"Could it be?" He pulls out a record sleeve.

Lucifer looks at you with a pleased smile. "How considerate of you." He leaves the bag back on his desk as he walks over to the record player.

"As much as I am dying to hear your cursed record collection, I have no desire to actually put myself in mortal danger." Gently, Lucifer pulls the record out from the sleeve.

"It's a copy of a classical jazz record I have at home in the human realm. While I was gone, I would listen to it a lot cause it reminded me of you."

Lucifer places the record, lifts the stylus, and sets it down onto the record to cue. It starts off with a ballad.

He walks back to you, finally flipping the record sleeve over to check the playlist. You're sure he's seen your note when he comes to a stop just before you. You wrote it in blue ink to make sure it stands out from the sleeve's white-gray coloring.

Thinking of you too <3.

Your heart stops as his eyes soften, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Was the message too much?

"I-" You step towards him.

"As expected of you, to do the unexpected. Whatever will I do with these unfamiliar feelings you stir up within me?"

"Well, first, you could kiss me?" You're giddy with the mirth that lights up his eyes at the suggestion.

"That's true, isn't it? Yes, I think I will kiss you." Closing the gap, Lucifer reaches for your hands and holds them in his.

"I think I will kiss you, and then you and I will dance. I think I shall have you recount just what it is you thought of while you listened to this record, and that I will share in kind just what thoughts the music brings to me."

Lucifer guides your hands, placing them where he would like you to hold onto him.

"After, I think we will have another drink or two, pick at the food even, if you wish. Then, before it is too late in the evening, I will take you to your room. It is only a Thursday night, and you must be up early tomorrow."

He steps back, and you two stumble into a waltz that carries you throughout the room. He leans in and presses his forehead against yours.

"And I hope that then, you will grant me the pleasure of a goodnight kiss."

You grin, leaning your head onto his shoulder. Work prevents him from being as selfish with your time as his brothers are. But he makes the most of these moments he shares with you.

"Yes, dear. As many as you'd like."

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soolh1k · 9 months

Note

Can you write skz helping reader get over their fear of the dark

Skz helping you overcome your fear of the dark

notes: english is not my first language so apologies for any misspelling or grammar. i hope u like it !! :))) this is just the hyung line

type: narrated text

genre: angst w fluff

WARNINGS: a little bit angsty but some fluff at the end, let me know if you'd like to be tagged !! :))

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀

ׂׂૢ Bang Christopher

As the day drew to a close, the golden rays of the setting sun bathed the room in a warm, comforting glow. But as the last sliver of light disappeared beyond the horizon, the darkness descended, bringing with it a surge of unease. You felt the familiar grip of fear taking hold, and your heart began to race.

Your boyfriend, sensing your unease, gently reached out and took your hand in his. "Don't worry," he said with a reassuring smile. "I'm right here with you."

He led you to a cozy corner of the room, where he had prepared a little fort of blankets and cushions. He arranged the blankets in such a way that it created a small, safe space, shielding you both from the darkness that now enveloped the room.

He switched on a tiny string of fairy lights that adorned the interior of the fort, their soft glow casting a warm, comforting ambiance. Inside the makeshift sanctuary, you felt a sense of security, as if the darkness outside could no longer reach you.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "Just take a deep breath," he whispered, his voice soothing like a gentle breeze. "Feel my presence here with you, and know that I'll always be here to protect you."

As you closed your eyes and focused on his steady heartbeat, the fear slowly began to dissipate. Your breathing steadied, and the darkness outside no longer seemed as daunting. With each passing moment, you felt more at ease, cocooned in the warmth and safety of your little fort.

He began to softly hum a soothing melody, his voice lulling you into a sense of calm. The darkness seemed to lose its grip, as you realized that you weren't alone in facing it. Your boyfriend's love and support enveloped you like a shield, and you felt empowered to confront your fear head-on.

Hours passed, and the night continued to blanket the world outside. Yet, inside the fort, you felt a newfound strength and courage. With your boyfriend by your side, the darkness no longer held power over you.

From that moment on, whenever the lights went out and darkness loomed, you knew that your boyfriend's love and unwavering presence would be your guiding light, helping you overcome any fear that dared to challenge your spirit.

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀

ׂׂૢ Lee Minho

The rain poured relentlessly outside as the wind howled, the electricity flickered for a moment before plunging the room into complete darkness. Panic gripped your heart as your breath quickened, and your mind conjured up terrifying thoughts. You had always dreaded the darkness, and being alone during a storm only heightened the fear.

Suddenly, you felt a warm hand gently grasping yours. "I'm here," a soft voice whispered in the dark. It was your boyfriend, who had sensed your distress and rushed to your side. Minho carefully guided you to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Don't worry; I won't leave you," he reassured, his voice steady and reassuring. He then proceeded to light a few candles that he had prepared earlier, filling the room with a gentle, flickering glow. The sight of the soft light eased some of your anxiety.

He smiled warmly, sensing your lingering unease. "Let's face this fear together," he said, his voice filled with determination. Taking your hand, he led you on a slow and deliberate journey around the house. He pointed out familiar objects and described their positions so that you could visualize the surroundings even without sight.

With each step, your fear seemed to lessen, and the darkness felt less daunting. He continued to hold her hand, offering unwavering support and encouragement. Minho enveloped you in a gentle hug, allowing you to feel his calming presence.

As the storm roared outside, he softly hummed a soothing melody, drowning out the sound of the wind. You closed your eyes, focusing on his voice and the warmth of his embrace. Gradually, you realized that the darkness wasn't as terrifying as you had imagined. With him by your side, you felt safe, protected, and loved.

Time seemed to pass slowly, but eventually, the storm subsided, and the lights flickered back on. The once frightening darkness now felt like a distant memory. You looked up at yout boyfriend, gratitude and admiration shining in her eyes.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "You helped me overcome my fear."

He smiled tenderly and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what you're afraid of," he replied softly. "Together, we can face anything."

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀

ׂׂૢ Seo Changbin

It was a typical cozy evening at home. You were watching a movie on the couch, snuggled up together under a soft blanket, and the room was bathed in the warm glow of the TV. Suddenly, the power went out, plunging you into complete darkness. Panic set in as your heart started racing. You'd always been terrified of the dark, and being in pitch-blackness amplified your fear.

"Hey, it's alright," he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. "I'm here with you, remember?"

"But I can't see anything," you stammered, trying to control your trembling voice.

"That's okay. Take a deep breath. Just focus on my voice," he reassured you in a gentle tone. "You're safe, and I won't let anything happen to you."

He guided you to stand up and led you carefully through the dark room, your hands interlocked. You could feel his steady presence, and it gave you a sense of security. You took slow and deliberate steps, avoiding any obstacles in your path.

"I'm going to turn on a flashlight," he said, rummaging through a nearby drawer.

As the dim light from the flashlight illuminated the room, your anxiety lessened, and you felt more at ease. You sat back down on the couch, still holding hands, when he put his arm around you.

"You know, darkness can be scary, but it's also a reminder of how much stronger we are together," he said, looking into your eyes. "You don't have to face your fears alone."

He was right. With him by your side, the darkness seemed less intimidating. You spent the rest of the power outage laughing and chatting, as the fear of darkness gradually faded away.

When the lights came back on, you realized that you had come a long way in overcoming your fear, thanks to his support and understanding. The experience brought you even closer together, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them as a team.

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀

ׂׂૢ Hwang Hyunjin

It was a moonlit night, and the stars winked at you from the sky as you lay in bed. But the darkness of the room seemed to swallow everything, making your heart race with fear. You'd always been scared of the dark, but tonight, your boyfriend was determined to help you conquer this silly fear.

"Hey, don't worry," he said with a gentle smile. "I've got a plan to make you feel better."

He reached over to the nightstand and switched on a small bedside lamp. The soft glow cast a warm light, easing some of the shadows in the room. You felt a bit more relaxed already.

"See? Not so bad, right?" he chuckled.

He then took out his phone and played some calming music, filling the room with a soothing melody. As the music played, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You could feel his steady heartbeat, and it comforted you.

"Focus on my breathing," he whispered. "In and out, just like me. Slow and steady."

You matched your breath with his, finding a rhythm that helped you feel grounded.

He continued, "And if you ever feel scared, just squeeze my hand. I'll be right here."

With his hand in yours, you felt a sense of security that you hadn't known before. The darkness seemed less menacing, and you could feel yourself drifting into a peaceful state.

"You're doing great," he encouraged, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Remember, I'm here with you, and we can face anything together."

As the minutes passed, you realized that you were no longer afraid of the dark. His presence and comfort had melted away your fears like a candle in the sunlight. You nestled closer to him, feeling grateful for his understanding and support.

"Thank you," you whispered, feeling tears of relief in your eyes.

"No need to thank me," he replied softly. "That's what partners are for—to help each other through the tough stuff."

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.“❀

Tag list !!

@albaficaslover

@damselettism

#skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz bang chan #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz angst #skz lee know #skz fluff #skz smau #skz requests

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 2 years

Text

The Enemy of My Enemy is ALSO My Enemy, Part 1

Or just 'Enemy of my Enemy' because that's long as hell

Summary:

Jason was fine spending his afterlife as a glorified office worker. He would help keep track of the souls that entered and exited the Underworld and, really, it was a good way to pass the seventeen years he would have to wait to be revived.

Right up until a particular Miraculous Cure started making his job a million times harder for him.

First (you are here!)<Masterlist>Next

When Jason Todd opened his eyes, he didn’t really know what he was expecting.

An office building was definitely not it, though.

He squinted to shield his eyes against the clinically bright lights that were affronting his vision – it wasn’t brighter than the explosion had been, but forgive him for being a little sensitive – and raised his eyebrows at the ten or so people rushing around the room.

Not that this kind of intensity was all that uncommon for offices, of course. If everyone wasn’t five seconds and/or an email away from having a breakdown, is it really a successful work environment?

No, the only truly weird thing was that each and every one of the people there had wings. Bird wings, a few insects, a set that seemed to be made of pure light…

His attention was caught when he heard a loud squawking noise.

A man with hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed since he was born and a black mask covering the bottom half of his face rushed over, the stack of papers in his hands teetering dangerously. The wings pressed close to his back looked to be molting, which was probably a good thing considering they were covered in so much dried blood that Jason couldn’t even tell what the actual color was supposed to be.

“You must be the new hire.”

“Um –?”

“Great, handle these for me? I have to do something.”

“Uh –!”

He dumped the stack of papers he was holding into his hands and then zoomed away in a blur of color.

Damn it. He had taken the papers without thinking and now he was cursed with work that he didn’t even close to understand. He stared at the forms in front of his face, struggling to make sense of all of the strange combinations of numbers and letters at the top of the first page. Had the printer gone insane or did they have so many different types of forms that they had to resort to naming them all pure gibberish to distinguish them? Did he even want to know? Probably not.

“Jason Todd?”

The papers in his arms became some particularly boring-looking confetti as Jason, startled and maybe a little wary about the person that had somehow managed to sneak up on him, threw them in the air.

The woman in front of him smiled, though it might have been a stretch to call the sligh quirk of her lips a “smile”. Her neon green eyes, fixed on Jason, reflected the light strangely.

“That’s me…” he said carefully.

“I’d hope so!” She said, her tone bright and cheery even as her expression remained rather somber. “Otherwise we’d have quite the problem on our hands.”

Jason looked down at the papers scattered across the floor. “Er… I think you might already have a problem.”

There was a flicker of black out of the corner of his eyes and a strong gust of wind that made him grimace and look away… but, when he managed to look again, the papers were neatly piled once again. The woman set the pile back in Jason’s hands.

“Come, I can explain to you what is going on on the way.”

Jason hesitated just for a moment, but he figured that it would probably be a good idea to listen to the person who seemed most intent on explaining things to him.

He rested his chin on top of the stack of papers to make sure they didn’t fall as he carefully rose.

But his shirt caught on the chair he had been sitting in.

He frowned and turned to fix the snag, only to find that his clothes were fine and the thing that had managed to lodge itself in the chair was actually one of the giant bat wings protruding from his back.

“Okaaaaay, that’s new,” he commented, a very well-disguised attempt to hide the nerves clawing up his throat. Ignore the way his voice squeaked a little, he was a great actor.

Thankfully, the woman seemed perfectly willing to let him have a breakdown right in front of her.

He wasn’t even completely sure why he was so stressed. Everyone else he had seen so far seemed to have wings – though he had no clue what the lady in front of him’s wings looked like yet – so it made sense that he would have them, too… but they were wings. On him!

He ran a finger along the leathery wings and bit back a grimace as shivers ran down his spine. Jason’s hand jerked back as if he had been burned.

Yep. That confirmed it. They were real.

Tears welled in his eyes.

He was dead. He had been sold out by his own mother.

And, maybe, he felt a little guilty seeing that they were bat wings. Seriously, what kind of karmic punishment was that? He went searching all over the world for his family, only to get himself killed thanks to his biological mother… and now, here he was. He was a bat. Bruce had been his family all along. And Bruce would never know that he had come to this realization.

Karmic punishment… damn. He had been hoping he had done enough to not end up in Hell, but apparently not.

He blinked rapidly to keep himself from crying – he was not going to burst into tears in the middle of a crowded office building, thank you very much, crying on company time is practically illegal – and forced himself up and out of the chair.

The woman hesitated, lifting a hand as if she was going to do something, but then she stopped herself. She started leading him through the complex.

“So, um, am I in…” Jason looked around, at the harried office workers with strange appendages sprouting from their backs, down to his own crisp business suit and the wings literally batting against anything he dared to walk within three feet of, and then his gaze found its way back to the woman in white. He lowered his voice slightly to finish his thought: “Hell?”

She didn’t seem offended, thankfully. Her eyes glimmered with something akin to amusement. “This is Lazarus Holdings.”

“Cool. So, Hell is an office building. Guess that makes sense. Bureaucracies are hell.”

“It’s not Hell…” She sighed, a long, slow sound, before turning to look at him. “Think of it as a kind of ‘limbo’, you’re familiar with that concept, yes?”

He nodded.

“Everyone here will, one day, come back to life… but, in the meantime, sending us ‘up’ or ‘down’ would be a waste of materials and manpower. So, whenever someone is marked to come back at some point, we bring them here and they join our workforce.”

He cringed, barely refraining himself from pointing out that this was exactly what Hell would be like for him. If this was Hell, then it would probably be best to just play along… right?

He had no clue. Which makes sense, considering he had never been to Hell before. Pardon any bad etiquette.

She led him to a tiny cubicle. “This is where you’ll be staying for the next… oh… seventeen years, I think?”

“Seventeen years?” Jason said.

His voice squeaked at a frequency that only greater wax moths could hear – which was unfortunate for the moth person a few cubicles away – but cut him some slack. He was going to be dead for, apparently, seventeen years. And, sure, he had previously been under the assumption that he was going to be dead forever, but somehow this was worse. Knowing that he would, someday, be fine meant that he had something to look forward to, and time would go so much slower that way.

(And what if his family forgot about him? Seventeen years was a long time for humans, they would all be so different by the end of it. Would they even be his family? Would they even remember him?)

The woman’s eyes gleamed. “Yes, seventeen years… for us, anyways. Time moves slower for people like us, it would be very difficult to process paperwork if there were two people dying a second.”

He guessed that made sense…

“How much slower?” He questioned hesitantly.

“It seems to be different for everyone.”

He grimaced. An unknown… Bruce had trained him to be hesitant about those, but was there really anything he could do?

“Which you should probably start working before your work starts piling up,” she hinted.

Jason looked back over at his desk and cursed loudly when he realized that, in the few moments he had looked away, five new papers had appeared.

Most people came and went rather quickly. It was rare to see someone last even a full year, let alone as long as Jason.

No, the only people that seemed just as trapped in this not-Hell were the bloodied man and the woman he had met on the first day.

The man was named Bucky. He had a robotic arm, so Jason thought he was pretty cool, even if he didn’t talk much. It wasn’t like older men that didn’t talk were all that new for Jason, anyways.

The woman said her name was Melisande. She was… interesting. She certainly took her work seriously, which wasn’t surprising considering she seemed to be the person in charge, but she also seemed absent. Her eyes roamed constantly, as if she was waiting for something to happen. Her shoulders would tense whenever she saw someone appear in the chair, but it never seemed to be who she was hoping for.

Their desks were all right next to each other in the center of the room. Jason had suggested that they spread out, once, so the temps wouldn’t have to walk as far when they needed help, but Bucky had simply shaken his head.

And, eventually, he got it. There was something nice, comforting, about being around Melisande and Bucky. He hardly knew either of them, and they hardly knew him, because talking about the time before they had died was painful… but at least when he was next to them he didn’t notice just how many people were passing them by. Just how often they were skipped over for their ‘second chance’.

No, it was better for him to not think of that. All of the paperwork was already driving him insane, he didn’t need to add any more undue stress, thanks.

One day, everything changed.

It had started off relatively normal.

Jason barely even blinked when a bell chimed, not even bothering to look up from where he was distracting Bucky during his usual break time. A hatch in the ceiling opened up and a person dropped out of it, right into the very same chair that Jason had woken up in. The girl looked to be no older than ten or so, and the ladybug wings on her back were dripping with water.

Melisande sighed and grabbed a sheet of paper when it dropped out of thin air. Brilliant green eyes scanned over it and then she tossed it to Bucky, who caught it with ease.

“Seems like this soul won’t even be here for half an hour, it might not be worth it to wake her up. Could you take her file –?” she started to say.

But then the bell rang again.

A man dropped into the room, a set of ladybug wings to match the young girl’s adorning his back.

Jason was the one to catch the file this time, the green tab that stuck out to mark it as belonging to a person who would be brought back was uncomfortably hot against his skin, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from the two people laying in crumpled heaps by the chair.

That was… odd. But, maybe, they were related or something? Or involved in the same accident –?

And then the bell went off again.

And again.

Soon, it was all that they could hear. Person after person tumbled out of the sky, files rained down on them faster than anyone could handle despite the speed advantages given to them by the weird time-space shenanigans. The ladybug wings on all of their backs glimmered in the clinical lighting, even as they were crumpled by the many bodies starting to pile by the chair.

Chair legs scraped against tiled floors as people jumped to their feet, alarm written across their faces and shouts of surprise and horror escaping their lips. Eye after eye turned to the three people in the middle of the room, searching for guidance, begging for an explanation…

An explanation that none of them could give.

The three professionals looked at each other, the papers assaulting them doing nothing to help the fear prickling at their skin.

And then they scattered. Bucky dropped back down into his chair and grabbed the nearest stack of files, the pen in his hand starting to blur as he struggled to fill out all of the forms. Melisande clapped her hand to get everyone’s attention and then forced them all to get back to work. Jason darted back to his desk, the bat wings on his back unfurling in order to get there even quicker.

The hatch… it wasn’t even closing anymore, there were too many bodies spilling out of it.

Jason ducked his head behind the walls of his cubicle in an attempt to keep himself from seeing it, but it didn’t stop the almost deafening ringing from meeting his ears.

At least he had the work to serve as a kind of distraction.

Unfortunate that there was so much of it, though.

You see, they had a system. When someone was slated to come back to life, they would help file for the deaths of every soul – something that was made easy by the amount of workers and the strange way time moved for them. And, when they were finally allowed to leave, their stacks would be taken by someone else and they would be left only with their own paperwork. Revival paperwork was the most lengthy work of all, but no one ever complained because, the moment they filled out the last box, they would disappear in a flash of (usually green, but sometimes white) light.

It was a good system. People often insisted that they do their own paperwork anyways in order to prevent any possible mistakes, so there was often very little resistance.

… but, in cases like this, where the people were set to come back within an hour, they often left them alone and delegated the work to someone else. It wasn’t worth all of the training required if they were only going to be there for a few moments.

They were regretting this system now, though. Because the paperwork was piling up and the bodies were starting to roll across the floor for space, a hand came to rest by his foot, and they just kept coming –.

The bell stopped ringing.

Leaving the seven workers standing in a metaphorical flood of bodies.

Water, tainted red with blood, crept its way across the floor.

Jason silently thanked God for making him die young because his feet didn’t touch the ground when he was sitting in his chair and therefore he didn’t have to deal with wet socks.

Because thanking Him for that was much easier than facing the reality of the situation. Of taking in the sheer number of people that had died.

The silence afterward was thick enough to feel like an entire person, looming over all of them, so uncomfortably real that it must have gotten a couple of paper cuts on the millions of files determined to pile high on their desks.

Jason took a shaky breath in. They didn’t have to breathe, but doing so calmed him down just slightly.

And then he took a pen to paper once again.

Flashes of red light were what they had the pleasure of dealing with as they slowly made their way through the slog of paperwork. It was pretty, and they had never had red light before, but it wasn’t like they could enjoy it. It was like being in the office on the Fourth of July, but with some additional resentment towards the ‘fireworks’ because they were such a pain to get.

But, eventually, they managed to catch up. Jason’s hand was cramped from writing. He wasn’t even sure how that had happened, considering he was dead and his bodily functions were unnecessary... and yet.

At least it was over with.

… the bell started ringing again.

“God damn it.”

It was completely random. There had been a blissful half a year where there was absolutely nothing and they had started to dare to believe that it was over. But this was quickly followed by two different attacks in a day.

And, because it was random, it was completely impossible to predict and it took entirely too long to notice what was going on.

Oftentimes they would accept a few people into their ranks before they realized what was happening. Which meant even more paperwork as they had to correct files that had already been completed.

Jason grit his teeth as another flash of red light went off somewhere to his left. He swore he could see the red behind his eyes every time he blinked. His hand had not known peace in what felt like eons. He wished for the sweet release of death – an actual one this time. Every time the bell started ringing he felt years drain off of his life… by adding so much time to his limbo.

He wanted nothing more than to go up to the land of the living and wring the neck of whoever kept bringing people back to life.

That’s.

Fucking.

It.

Jason didn’t even care about asking Melisande, nor about alerting Bucky. He simply dumped his things onto Bucky’s desk while he was on a water break and then booked it towards the hatch.

It was a tight fit. But he was Robin. And he was going to fix this fucking issue one way or another.

So, he flew up into the hatch with one quick burst, caught himself on the walls despite the way it burned, and started climbing up.

It was difficult. Bodies occasionally came crashing down towards him, forcing him to dodge from side to side. Every part of him ached from straining himself after years of sitting behind a desk. The sides of the hatch were hot to the touch, daring him to give in and let go, to go back to the safety of Lazarus Holdings, and he imagined that this was what Hellfire felt like…

But, slowly but surely, the light at the end of the hatch began to get bigger.

And he was able to pull himself out.

He found himself in a field. A butterfly fluttered by in slow motion, creeping along in front of him as tired eyes took in every beat of its white wings. The grass tickled skin that had been burned and rubbed raw while he was climbing, soothing and aching at the same time. White flowers – chamomile – dotted the area around him in a perfect circle. He could smell sage wafting to him from somewhere.

It was pretty.

He crashed face-first into the grass.

#hahahahahaah this one doesn't have a schedule #because i want my mental health to actually be okay #and also i have had this done for ages i just haven't had any ability to write the next part #hoping posting will help #anyways #maribat #enemy of my enemy #platonic jasonette #jason todd #red hood #robin #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #the enemy of my enemy is also my enemy

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cameraxel · 7 months

Text

Long time away & a Poem

Long time no used! Feeling like I should put this piece of poetry somewhere even if noone likes it or even reads it - simply so it exisits elsewhere than my pc. If on some of my posts and things you notice i rarely used caps - its something i allways forget about. (edited to fix htis to this) The poem was written on the 17-08-2023 while watching Impulse & Skizz playing Phasmophobia.

Poem Title: spooky hunt - a phasmophobia poem 17-08-2023

there's a haunted house across the way a truck drives up and the driver appears placing restricted zone dividers out they return to the truck

a short time later the truck's back opens revealing light and sounds while four figures clamber out they're passing strange equipment about laughing and jostling as they walk up the path to the local haunt they cat call eachother as they joke as they go in equipment all ready to go hunting they sweep the house as they go looking for the haunter's place it calls home

they poke and pry and peer about looking for places that when in doupt that they could hide and save them when the ghost haunts to maim them places found and looking still for the spook to be called and claimed they go back and forth from the house and the truck equipment passing about as they set in the place they think is best the place the haunted spirit rests

the lights flicker flash and a sudden smash the bulb above breaks in a flash the sudden shimmer of spectors frame and then the darkness in the room remains the four react fleeing away towards safe spots that they've claimed a glance to the door and they return toward the room where they once were

equipment placed and they retreat looking as they go for something unique a haunted item or something that has claim on the spector that remains they return singularly but more often in pairs questions asked sometimes ansered depending on the spirits type or desire responses gotten or unreplied they continue their quest to find the spector's identity or even a guess

darkness decends their lights start flicker they go all quiet and turning off their equipment as they scatter and hide and hope that the spector has not seen them as they hid they wait with baited breath and worried minds as the spector moves about closer and further as it hunts and suddenly silence that they hope is the end that the spector is spent and not killing a friend

awhile they spend watching the screen hoping to spot things unseen for movement for lights or things that glow to tell them more of their ghostly foe they go to check the equipent placed in a rush keeping up a soft whispered hush they go with plenty of haste for time they have they will not waste incase the spook resumes it's hunting for a taste

they gather the evidence and make up their minds to the truck they go and write up their finds a decision is made but is it right as the truck drives away into the night

#impulsesv #skizzleman #imp and skizz #phasmophobia #scary poetry #poetry

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djsadbean · 2 years

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Evil thought. AU of your AU. The alternate universe idea. LOL. Amazo never went missing. Steven never got the mouse brain because Amazo managed to get the mind reading device off of him just in time but not enough time to let go himself. Just how guilty would Steven feel?

OOOOOOHHH that's SO evil xD I love it!! I'm gonna write for the next chapter rn but I'm DEFINITELY gonna try to draw this somehow during a break hehehe that's so evil

Here's a written version of how I think it'd go in fanfic form hehe (tw of course, uh, science gone wrong?):

He gently knocked on the frosted glass of the door. "Stevie?" He reached into the pocket of his leather vest and pulled out a key. With a swift turn, he unlocked the heavy door and stepped inside.

The dark ceiling loomed over him, beeping lights trailed up the pipes on the brick walls, and tables were dumped with tools and spare parts.

He heard two heartbeats... Both pounding and... he smelled adrenaline? Who was the second person?

With a deep breath, he blasted into the testing chamber, nearly blowing the door off its hinges.

He looked to what looked like a massive control panel.

A mouse...?

"Steven?" He called out.

"Adam? What are you doing here?" He called out from the hall.

"What's going on? You're nervous about something." He called back.

Steven emerged from the dimly lit hallway with a sandwich. "It's not that I'm nervous... I just... I just hope this works."

Adam shot him a weird look. "You're not trying that brain experiment, right? You said you'd wait for your paper to finish being peer-reviewed." He frowned.

"I-I know. It's taking so much longer than I thought and I know this is going to work. Everything is set up and I'm sure I'm about to be the first person in all of history to have direct communication with a mouse." He grinned.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I've run every test I could think of and almost everything is set! Though, I really shouldn't leave him there on the control panel for too long. He might press the wrong button."

Adam looked over to the panel, watching as the little hand lowered onto a big red button.

Why does that button say-

Adam dashed and ripped off Steven's helmet. The machine overloaded and sparks flew into the air. What felt like a million jolts of power surged through him. He screamed and felt his hands tighten around the helmet.

"ADAM!"

The lights flickered. He felt his head spinning. One last firey jolt of power blasted them to the ground.

The room fell to complete darkness.

Steven fumbled with the flashlight in his pocket and tried to keep his hand steady. The light from his hand shook intensely as he tried to stand up again after who knew how long.

"Adam?!" He tore the fried helmet out of Adam's hands and threw it aside.

His best friend, the person he loved most in the world, lay sprawled on the tiled floor, nearly unmoving. His labored breaths and small groans filled the silence left from the machine hums and beeps ceasing. Steven set the flashlight on the ground.

"Please, please-"

He looked up at his hair.

What?- Why is this part white??

He reached up to the tuft of hair that was swooped back. He took a shaky breath and tried to focus.

Adam's eyes struggled to stay open.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- I should've waited. I should've waited like you said." Steven pleaded, almost trying to convince himself that he wasn't the type of person to nearly kill his fiance in a very preventable untested experiment.

"Steven...?" His voice, raspy from his screams, barely carried to Steven's ears.

"I'm here, I'm here." He took another shaky deep breath. "I'm sorry, Adam." His breath hitched in his throat, turning into hiccups.

AND SCENE </3

Okay, bc I totally rushed this, lemme ramble coherently!

So in this au of my au (lol), Adam doesn't get the mouse brain bc he wasn't wearing the helmet but parts of Squeaky did merge with him, giving him a bit of white hair. I think Amazo is much stronger and able to resist a lot more of the transformation both bc he's a highly trained superhero and bc he wasn't actually wearing the helmet. Squeaky does die from this experiement and that's a death Steven takes very hard. He was electrocuted which is such a painful way to go.

Amazo doesn't get a new personality but he does blur the line between what's justice and what's going too far. His sense of justice is completely skewed after this and Steven tries to help but is met with incredibly hostile rejections every time. This splits them apart because there is no clear indication of who Amazo is and Squeaky's influence from the grave.

Steven looses himself anyway (just like in canon) and he dedicates his life to trying to stop Amazo and bring back the Adam he knew and loved. He does get hurt trying to stop him and this universe's WordGirl struggles to stop him as well. They try teaming up but Steven is too far gone with guilt and shame. He can't focus and becomes very unstable while Amazo ruins his own legacy within the city and among his loved ones.

This is the worst timeline because nothing is reversible :)

#ehehehe #i might be an evil person myself.#eyo why do i have the ability to craft these really sad stories..... i would like to be a JOY in the world ljkdfhaasdklaj #that might be a lie i love writing angst #djsadbean answers #evil amazo au #drtwobrains #dr two brains #wordgirl #amazing cheese #amazo guy

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raleighcarrera · 1 year

Text

ok i also forgot to tell you guys i randomly found the beginnings of a fic i started a long time ago where ellie tries to have sex with colt who is a ghost in the drafts of another blog LMAO

the candles were lit. the front door was locked. her phone was off.

ellie climbed in bed, determination set into every inch of her features. okay, she thought to herself, you know what to do.

deep breathing, that was step one. staying calm, that was important, too. then she just had to ask for what she wanted.

someone nice. ellie tried her best to envision the picture of what she was looking for, but she’d never really had a ‘type.’ someone hot.

hey, if she was going to lose her virginity to a ghost, it’d better be a good looking one.

the idea had sounded ridiculous to her at first. she’d been scrolling clickit and laughed when she stumbled on the article, already rolling her eyes before she even got past the headline: i had sex with a ghost. here’s what happened.

but then she’d finished the article, and dug into it a little more.

evidently, it was... possible. and she was so tired of being a virgin.

for a few long minutes, it felt like nothing was happening. ellie fidgeted on the bed, remembering the steps the medium had outlined.

breathe. believe.

still, she felt stupid. at least she hadn’t dressed up -- it was cold in her apartment and so she was still dressed in what she’d worn to her afternoon classes, jeans and a t-shirt and a cardigan.

ignoring the part of her brain that was adamant nothing was going to happen, she screwed her eyes shut tightly, believing with everything she had. please. send me a hot ghost to talk to.

all of the candles she’d lit extinguished abruptly. ellie sat up in bed with a gasp, her eyes wide.

“sorry,” said a voice through the darkness, “fire makes me kind of antsy.” her bedroom lights flickered on.

she stared open-mouthed at the boy who materialized before her. he couldn’t have been much older than she was, and he looked -- normal. part of her had been envisioning someone dressed in period clothing, a victorian-era style relic with an accent, but... he was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and sounded like every other guy at college.

“what’s up?” he said, grinning at her. “something wrong?”

“huh?” her face flushed red as she realized he had no idea what he was supposed to be here for. “oh. um. well... it’s kind of a long story. sorry -- you look really normal, it’s throwing me off.”

“i’ve only been dead for, like, a year,” he shrugged, tilting his head to look around her room. “you live here? this is a cool spot. are we in LA?”

“yeah,” she answered slowly, confusion clear in her voice. “i -- does this sort of thing happen to you... often?”

“not really,” he said nonchalantly, as though it absolutely did, “but i grew up in the city. sometimes i still visit. anyway, what do you want?”

well. no one had told her she was going to have to ask. this was embarrassing. “i don’t want to say.”

he looked at her like she was insane. “so what’d you call me for?”

“i didn’t call you, i just asked for --” ellie felt her face flush red. “someone hot.”

his eyebrows climbed higher. “why? i mean -- nice, but why?”

okay. so the ghost was definitely going to laugh at her. “because i... am a virgin. and i don’t want to be.”

the boy blinked at her. “seriously? you want to have sex with a ghost?”

“okay -- i read about it online and it didn’t sound like the worst idea,” she rushed to defend, “i didn’t think it’d be like -- like the same as meeting someone in person. if i’d known it was going to be like this i wouldn’t have tried.”

“i don’t even think it counts as losing your virginity,” he mused, “i mean i think my dick would go in, but --”

“oh my god, stop,” ellie said. her face felt like it was on fire. “it was a dumb idea, forget it.”

“i mean, it’s not like you’re not cute,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her, “can’t you find someone to have sex with you who’s still, you know, alive? unless you’re like sixteen or something.”

as if this could get any more mortifying. “i’m twenty-one.”

he stared at her, open-mouthed. “you’re twenty-one and still a virgin?”

“don’t judge me,” she snapped, “it’s not like -- it’s not like i’m not trying. i’m in my senior year of college and i’m basically invisible. i’ve been so obsessed with school my whole life and now anyone i meet is going to think i’m a loser and i’ll never have a normal relationship and i just -- i just want to get it over with, so there’s not so much pressure all the time. i don’t want it to be, like, a thing.”

“wow, dramatic,” he said, making her glare at him, “it’s been a while since i’ve heard anything that angsty.”

“i also asked for someone nice,” she said pointedly, “obviously i did it wrong.”

#myfic #what was this idea someone please tell me #plot thinner than a bar pizza #colt kaneko #ride or die #colt kaneko x mc #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler

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thedummysdummy · 1 year

Text

Down to the Village: Part 3

The girl panicked slightly when she woke to an empty bed. Lingering flickers of nightmares and night scares drifted through her semi-conscious mind until she woke up completely and heard the clinking and clanking of pots and dishes in the other room. “I’m completely safe,” she murmured, allowing herself to snuggle back into the warmth of the fluffy duvet and soft sheets. Very little light yet made its way through the cracks in the window coverings, but what little did come through highlighted the dancing specks of dust turned up by the heater kicking on.

In and out of consciousness she drifted for the next half hour or so until Victor entered the room in casual lounge pants and a bare chest. “Breakfast is ready, dummy. Come out to the kitchen before it gets cold and it’s completely ruined.” He stalked silently over to the bed and kissed her gently on the cheek before turning and heading back out of the room. The girl reached out and brushed her hand along his strong pectoral muscles, a smile on her face.

She yawned and climbed out of bed, her pajamas hanging awkwardly off one shoulder and her hair defying gravity. But she merely shifted her shoulder slightly to make the top more comfortable and wandered through the door to be met by a handsome man and a plate of pancakes with fresh fruit. He chuckled when he saw her and pulled out the chair. “You look like you had a rough night.”

“Don’t you remember all the weird things that happened?” she mumbled, clamoring into the chair and grabbing the fork. She held it vertically in her fist and stared into the middle distance while her brain continued to resync with reality. “The water and the doors and the creepy mirror…”

Victor chuckled and set his own plate on the counter next to hers. He ran his fingers through her hair a few times to tame some of the more exuberant tufts and sat down. “Someone just needs to stop watching scary movies before bed. They get into her head and make everything seem frightening. Now, eat your breakfast or the whipped cream will melt and you’ll have soggy pancakes.” As if to instruct her by example, he cut a small bite with his fork and put it in his mouth while making eye contact with the still-dazed girl.

Eventually she shifted her fork into ‘use’ position and began nibbling at her breakfast, still a million miles away in her mind. Victor had so easily explained away everything she had complained about last night, though she hadn’t told him about the strange shadow…but maybe it was just an animal outside and the moonlight was casting their shadow onto her wall? She knew it didn’t make a lot of sense, but it was all she could think of.

The silence slowly became awkward and the girl leaned over so her shoulder rested against Victor’s. “What did you have planned for today, Mr. CEO? Another day of lounging and relaxation?” She put the last bite of pancake in her mouth and allowed her head to rest against Victor’s cheek as she chewed it and swallowed. “Or maybe some time in the bath again?”

“As tempting as that is,” Victor replied, his voice dry, “I am planning to take you down to spend the day in the little village at the foot of the forest. There’s a harvest festival going on, and I know how much my dummy likes any type of celebration.”

The girl’s eyes brightened and she shifted in her chair to look up at Victor with bright eyes. “Really?! That sounds like so much fun! I wonder what kind of tasty snacks they’ll have at a harvest festival! Maybe there will be roast chestnuts, or grilled corn! Or little octopus sausages on a stick!” Any remaining gloom from the night before was washed away in the excitement of an outing. “And I bet there will be lots of activities! We should hurry and get ready, Victor, so we don’t miss any of the fun!”

And she was off. After taking only a moment to dump her used dishes into the sink, the girl rushed into the bedroom to change and brush her hair. Victor followed behind at a more leisurely pace, chuckling to himself. She really was a child sometimes…but if he had learned anything while dating her, it was that being childish once in a while can be refreshing. Besides, he did gain a certain amount of joy from watching her get excited about things he had planned for her.

Victor put his own dishes away and followed into the bedroom to get dressed. Only minutes later the pair were ready to go and heading for the door. The girl held Victor’s hand and bounced as they walked, definitely in a better mood than she’d woken up in. She chattered away about everything and nothing as they climbed into the car and slowly began making their way down the snowy, unplowed road which wound its way through the trees and toward the village. It wasn’t a far drive, really; however, the conditions made it take a significantly longer time to exit the trees and reach their destination.

Upon their arrival, Victor opened the door for the girl and she spilled out onto the cobblestone pathway which led from the parking lot into the village proper. It honestly seemed to be a bit of a tourist attraction; the architecture was of stone and beam construction to resemble that of the past century, while the residents tended themed shops and stalls all up and down the streets. Lights glittered in the girl’s eyes as she grabbed Victor’s hand and began dragging him from shop to shop, intent on seeing everything the village had to offer.

“Sack races! Three-legged races! Partner relays!”

“Apple bobbing!”

“Candied fruits and roasted chestnuts! Get your caramel apples and fine pressed cider!”

“Roast meats and fresh bread!”

From all sides were the calls of vendors advertising their wares to anyone who passed by, smiling and waving in a friendly manner. Delicious scents of baked goods and sugar drifted on the currents, swirling in the nostril and seeming to say, Come! Taste it all! Enjoy the bounty of harvest time!

She stopped in front of a carnival-style booth of balloon darts and, seeing a large shiba plush as the main prize, tugged on Victor’s sleeve. “Look! Victor, look how cute it is!! Let’s play, please?” Victor sighed good-naturedly and pulled out his wallet to pull out some money. He handed the owner enough for five darts and stood back to watch as the girl threw the first and completely missed all the balloons. Her face fell and she tossed another, again being unable to hit anything. She turned and put on her best puppy dog eyes, holding the remaining darts out to Victor. “I’m not very good at this game…why don’t you try?”

Victor took the darts and examined them, testing their balance and eyeing the targets. He carefully aimed the first and burst a red balloon, resulting in a cheer from the girl. “I knew you could do it!” she exclaimed as he pulled his arm back and again took aim. This dart also flew true and struck a green balloon, quickly followed by the third striking a yellow. The owner picked up the three pieces of paper which had fluttered to the ground and handed them to the girl.

“This one says fourth prize,” she read, putting the paper on the counter, “this one is second prize…and this one is the grand prize!! Victor, you are the best!!” The owner smiled as he gathered up her prizes of a rubber ball, a drinking cup, and the large shiba into a bag and handed them to the girl who was hanging on the arm of her incredibly handsome boyfriend.

“Here you are, you two lovebirds,” the man teased. The girl flushed as she accepted the prizes with a grin. “Have fun today, alright? And when you get hungry, you should try the little restaurant on the end, there. That’s where you’ll find the very best baked apples and ham! And I’m not just saying that because my wife is the cook.”

The girl nodded and hopped a little as she and Victor carried on down the street. For the next couple of hours they browsed the shops, examining the hand carved and homemade souvenirs and knick-knacks until the girl’s stomach began to growl. Her cheeks flushed and Victor began to laugh. “It sounds like it’s time for a certain dummy to get something to eat.”

“Yeah…why don’t we try the restaurant that the balloon man suggested? I think ham and baked apples sounds delicious!”

Victor seemed alright with that and began leading the girl back to the building he had indicated. From the outside, it looked like an old tavern complete with a rubber boot and rusty tankard outside. Inside, however, was a cozy little eatery with tables surrounding a fire pit. An entire pig roasted over the fire and the crackling of the flames as they devoured the dripping juices provided a welcoming atmosphere.

A rather large woman welcomed them and gestured for them to sit wherever they liked, following behind with a pair of glasses and a menu. Victor chose a table near the back and pulled out the girl’s chair, allowing her to settle before gently scooting her closer to the table. The hostess set down the cups and menu with a smile. “Have you two been in before?”

“No,” Victor replied, “But your husband suggested that we try the ham and baked apples. So we’ll have two of that, please.”

The woman laughed and nodded. “Aye, that man of mine. Cheeky, he is. But I do appreciate the pair of you coming in to test his judgment. I’ll be back with some water and those meals for you!” She disappeared to the other side of the room for a moment, where she picked up a pitcher of water and two plates. On her way back she stopped at the spit and sliced off two large portions of the pig, grabbed two apples from amongst the flames, and sprinkled the entire thing with a good dusting of brown sugar. “Here you are, my dears,” she said as she set down the plates and filled their glasses. “If you need anything else, let me know. Where might you be staying, hm?”

“Oh, we’re staying in a little cabin a ways into the woods!” the girl chirped, sipping her water to get rid of the thirst from walking around the last couple of hours. The woman thought for a moment before an even larger smile broke out on her face.

“Ah! You must mean the haunted cabin at Browley’s place! Can’t say I’ve been there myself, but I hear it’s-” She paused as Victor shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “I hear it’s very cute. I’m sure the pair of you will have a really good time. I’ve got to go check on the other tables, but if you need anything, just shout!”

The girl watched the woman’s back as she wandered away, three words echoing in her mind. The HAUNTED cabin?! She grabbed Victor’s arm and looked him in the eye, her face screwed up with worry. “Victor, she said HAUNTED cabin. You heard her, right?! So I wasn’t crazy!” “Stop being silly and eat your lunch,” Victor replied, his voice completely calm and his face neutral. “There’s no such thing as a cabin which is actually haunted. And besides, you’re perfectly safe with me.” He kissed the girl on the cheek and dug into his dinner, finding it was definitely delicious. The girl, on the other hand, poked at her lunch and did her best not to let her mind get away from her. Victor was right, wasn’t he? That it couldn’t possibly be actually haunted? She really wasn’t so sure…

#so who is right?#I guess we'll find out #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #love and producer li zeyan #evol x love #love and producer victor #love and producer #mlqc fanfic #mr love queen's choice #mlqc victor fanfic

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casspurrjoybell-31 · 5 months

Text

The Consort - Chapter 14 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Finn

Brayden and I travel for hours.

It isn't until the first slivers of moonlight begin to kiss the horizon that he slows enough for me open my eyes without them burning against the blistering wind.

I squint against the shadows, trying to make sense of where we are but all I see are the tops of hundreds of trees.

He shifts me around his torso and to his back, positioning me so it looks like he's giving me a piggy back ride.

Then I see why.

There's a small treehouse at the top, one that I would have never noticed otherwise.

The surrounding trees hide it without fail, their foliage a protective shield from the rest of the world.

When we get to the top, Brayden pushes through the rickety door and sets me on my feet.

Another pair of red eyes stare back at us and my heart slams against my chest.

Did Brayden bring me here as bait?

As payment?

The Vampire blinks and moves towards me.

Familiar features catch the spots of moonlight seeping through the cracks of the roof and I have an impulse to cry.

It's Kelly.

"Kelly. It's good to see you," I choke out.

My best friend's brow creases in confusion but he doesn't say anything.

Instead he looks over at Brayden who pulls a bag of blood from somewhere within his cloak.

"Payment," Brayden says to Kelly. "As promised."

Kelly snatches the blood bag from his hands, ripping the top off with his teeth and spitting it to the floor.

When the opening of the bag touches his lips, a satisfied gurgle dances down his throat.

It reminds me of the vampire at the University.

Brayden eye's remain fixated on the blood rushing into Kelly's eager mouth.

Based on the color of his eyes, I would guess Brayden hasn't eaten since the last time I saw him.

I shouldn't care about something like this.

Leo would say good riddance.

Yet the yearning for Brayden to drink my blood overwhelms me once again.

Kelly tosses aside the drained bag.

His eyes have lost their blazing edge but they're still red enough to glow.

Brayden pulls a second bag of blood from his pocket and waves it daringly in front of Kelly's face.

"Keep watch tonight," Brayden proposes.

"And this will be yours as soon as the sun rises in the morning."

Kelly licks his lips and nods without hesitation.

"Done."

He doesn't wait around for any additional small-talk.

His light footsteps move around us and he leaves the small treehouse.

The wooden door shuts in his absence and Brayden puts the bag of blood back into his pocket.

The wind picks up in the distance and the floorboards creak beneath us.

It seems the only thing keeping this treehouse together is nothing more than a whispered prayer.

Brayden folds his hands together behind his back and nods to the far side of the room.

"You should get some sleep," he instructs.

"We will need to leave in the morning."

I remain standing and unmoving.

I haven't seen or talked to this immortal man in well over a month.

Having in front of me again feels like a dream, though after having countless fantasies about our reunion, this isn't quite what I imagined.

My stomach grumbles, a low roar of thunder in a room of torrid silence.

"I have no food for you, human," Brayden says.

"I can get you something tomorrow morning."

"I'm fine."

There's a lull in our exchange and I have the urge to ask him everything and nothing.

My legs feel shaky, so I gingerly take a seat on the floor.

"I found out, you know," I say against the strained silence.

"What a Nirv is."

Bogdan remains silent.

I lick my licks and take a measured breath.

"Is it true? That I'm one of them?"

A flicker of red meets my gaze and Brayden's jaw tightens.

"Yes."

'Yes.' In a single word, both my biggest fear and biggest hope is confirmed.

It terrifies me to be a Nirv, to be a target for an entire population of immortal vampires.

On the other hand, knowing I have a scent and a type of blood that makes me more desirable than the others gives me hope....with Bogdan.

Even if he doesn't act on his want, I know he has to crave me on some level.

Leo told me time and time again how precious my blood is and therefore how desirable I am to the vampires.

Even if Bogdan never succumbs to those feelings, he has to have them. Right?

Brayden keeps his eyes on me and my stomach dips.

"So I never got a chance to thank you," I mutter, trying to find my courage.

"For saving me."

"I didn't do it for you," Brayden replies evenly.

My heart sinks.

I should expect these kinds of responses but they still find a way of hitting the most vulnerable nerves.

"If your blood gets into the wrong hands, dangerous vampires could retain a power that could wipe out the entire human population. It isn't safe."

"Why don't you just drink it then?" I ask, half-sarcastically and half-serious.

"Then there won't be anything left for anyone else."

Brayden's eyes shimmer at the thought.

His fangs elongate just a hair, their white, pointed ends glistening with a desire for flesh.

"No vampire would drain you," Bogdan answers factually.

"Your blood is too rich to be consumed in a single sitting. It's intoxicating. They would do all they could to keep your blood pumping as long as possible."

Oh. I think back to Leo's explanation of a Nirv and suck my bottom lip into my mouth.

The supple flesh is chapped from today's journey.

"Is it true... that if they tasted my blood, they would fall in love with me?"

Brayden sighs irritably.

"Vampires are not wired to feel emotions like that, human."

He paces around me a single time and his voice softens.

"But I guess in some ways it would be similar to being in love. A curse on the heart that cannot be undone."

My shoulders sag.

It was stupid to think Brayden saving me was any 'sign' that things had changed between us.

Sure, we shared a kiss once before but really... that kiss was pretty one-sided, as embarrassing as it is to admit.

And it's not like he wants to keep me safe.

He simply wants to keep me away from everyone else.

Hurt drives me to get to my feet again,and I feel my way towards the door.

"What do you think you're doing?" Brayden asks.

"Leaving."

He snorts. When I open the door, however, he's already at my side slamming it closed.

"What do you think you're doing, human?"

I cross my arms over my chest, glaring up at him with annoyance.

"To talk to Kelly."

"He's not strong enough to resist you."

"I'll take my chances."

Brayden's eyes swirl with anger and he lowers his face to mine.

His scent washes over me in waves, the rich smell overpowering my senses.

He gently takes hold of my chin with his hand, tilting my head upwards until my eyes collide with his.

"You ungrateful human," he murmurs.

"I may not be saving you specifically but by keeping you away from the wrong hands, I am saving your entire species."

I reach for the door again but this time Brayden catches my hand.

His cool fingers slide over top of mine.

It's a touch I have dreamed about for weeks.

"What game do you play with me, human?" Brayden whispers grudgingly.

I don't pull my hand away from his and he doesn't drop it either.

"I'm not trying to play a game," I say over the rush of blood pounding against my ears.

"I just miss my best friend. I miss...everything."

The pain I've tried to stuff down catches me by surprise.

Tears spring to my eyes and Brayden recoils his touch, unsure of how to react to my sudden change in emotion.

Salty droplets spill down my cheeks and I hastily wipe them away.

"He doesn't remember you," Brayden whispers. I sniffle and lean my back against the door.

"I know but that just makes it worse. It's like I can still see glimpses of who he used to be. But then he's not."

Brayden runs a hand down the length of his jaw.

He seems of sure of how to proceed with me.

His red eyes study the modest, one-roomed treehouse.

"I do not understand your emotions, human," he finally responds.

"But I will do what I need to keep you here. And keep you safe. What is it you need from me right now?"

A hug.

Someone to talk to.

Someone to explain what's happening and how the world is changing around me.

But my brain pushes all those logical thoughts away.

Instead, it sends a message to my vocal chords and I find myself blurting out a request that I wish I could take back.

"Kiss me."

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nctsworld · 3 years

Text

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

7K notes · View notes

sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n: This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert

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