#(and then she asked me out and i was like ah shit)

[defmaybe]

Stuffed

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1, December 25th, 2024

ARTMS' Jeon Heejin & Kim Jungeun/Kim Lip x Male Reader

2.7k words

“Hey!”

A sound comes from your back in the long hallway of the hotel. It’s Heejin. She looks as beautiful as ever—brown eyes, sharp nose, and that pretty little mouth—but what could she want at this hour? It’s 11 P.M.!

“Hey,” you reply, perplexed by her antics late at night. You’re in your comfy pajamas right now, and you couldn’t have possibly been arsed with another errand for the women. “What is it, Heejin?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking–” she pauses, letting the anticipation linger in the air. You gulp. “–it’s coming towards the end of the tour.”

She stops again.

Is it something shameful?

“Yes, Heejin?”

“And with all the things you’ve done, I’d like to thank you with something,” says Heejin, twisting her hair with her fingers. Her eyes are darting everywhere else but yours, tiptoeing.

It’s definitely something shameful, but you really have to go to sleep for now.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself. “Heejin, I do appreciate it, really, but–”

“It won’t be long, trust me,” she pleads, holding onto your hands.

She really needs you to see it.

“Heejin, please, I want to go–”

Your train of thoughts is wrecked as Heejin pulls out her puppy eyes. Fuck, they’re irresistible.

And you just have to give in. 

“Fine, just–take me to the place,” you groan.

She beams before leading you to the reward. She always looks like an angel when she smiles, and you can’t help but smile along with her.

She guides you into her room. It’s spacious and cozy. A television. A make-up table. A bathroom. There’s everything that a hotel room should have.

But there’s something off with this room, and it’s not the fact that Jungeun, in her black dress, is sitting on the bed, joining Heejin in her thankful gesture. Her face is unreadable.

It’s the strap-ons beside her—two of them, to be exact. Your eyes widen at the implications. 

You’re getting pegged tonight, and the flaccid cock inside your shorts starts to grow.

You turn to Heejin. “H–Heejin, what’s this? Am I getting–”

“You’re right! We’ll be pegging you tonight!” Heejin says.

The size doesn’t look compromising for your holes at all. You’re definitely getting gaped by them.

“W–With those?”

Jungeun joins the conversation, expressionless, “Yeah.”

“B–But how? What? Do you guys just carry around lube during the tour and waiting to fuck my ass in the final days?” you have to ask, trying to delay the unavoidable.

Jungeun lets out a small chuckle. “Well, what do you think?”

Your mouth opens wide, not expecting such a gesture from the women. You’re appreciative of it, of course, but just not tonight—when you’re this damn drowsy.

“Girls, I just don’t think–ah!”

Heejin pulls your shorts down in a swoop, revealing your hard cock beneath, already leaking from the thought of being used by these women.

You turn back to her. “Heejin!”

A giggle leaves her pretty lips before tossing the shorts away to the side of the bed. “On all fours, please, cutie.”

“We’re not doing this again after today, baby–” says Jungeun, smirking, patting the space beside her. “–better listen to Heejin.”

You alternate between Heejin and Jungeun nervously, before complying with the request. You climb onto the bed, on all fours. Your ass is exposed to the cold air of the room. You start to shiver.

“Good boy,” Jungeun says, before sucking her middle finger and sticking it into your snug hole.

Pain and pleasure shoots through you like a bullet. You hear a giggle from the women. Jungeun slowly pushes her slim finger into you. You wail and wail from the sensations.

“Fuck!”

“Keep moaning like that, baby. This is just a warmup,” Jungeun says.

Heejin walks towards you, giving your ass a loud smack, sending a shockwave through you once more. 

“Fuck, shit!”

The women chuckle again. You can feel Jungeun’s finger buried inside your ass up to the hilt. Your body shakes and writhes in response.

“Do you want daddy to nudge that prostate, baby?” Jungeun asks.

You suck a sudden, torn between wanting her finger out of your asshole and being stimulated by that lean digit of hers.

And you give in to the pleasure.

“Y–Yes, d–daddy.”

The first flick elicits a loud moan out of you. You feel like some common whore at this point—having your mushy prostate played with. Your body shivers erratically.

“Hmm, good boy,” utters Jungeun before flicking her finger again. Your body tenses up at her touch.

She pushes her finger into your softness again, and again, and again. Your cock twitches and shakes as the rapture is shot through you. You wail and whimper erratically.

From behind, Heejin climbs onto the bed to face your gleefully contorted face, smiling. The finger inside your ass cannot change your opinion on her—she’s still fucking gorgeous.

“Baby boy,” says Heejin, tilting her head just a little.

“Y–Yes, daddy?”

She lifts a finger up before pushing it softly into your mouth. You taste the hint of sweat on her finger, staring drunkenly into her hypnotic eyes, gleaming with desire. You’re moaning into her digit from the penetration from behind. She’s smiling, and you can do this just forever. Jungeun is still playing with your soft prostate. Your body is starting to get sore now from the submissive posture. Each nibbling of her digit brings out an airy moan onto Heejin’s finger.

“You’re such a good boy for us, you know?” Heejin says, inserting another finger into your mouth.

“Th–Thanks, daddy,” you reply, slightly muted.

After what felt like an eternity, Jungeun pulls her finger out of your now-spread hole. It heaves, missing its stuffing. You shriek at the absence of her digit, but you know that there’s going to be something else filling you up.

You keep sucking Heejin’s fingers. She’s salty. You feel so submissive right now, and you’d do anything to let this go on for forever.

“Alright, pretty boy, time for the big thing now,” says Jungeun. She takes off her sweatpants swiftly. You pull off from Heejin’s fingers to look back at what’s going on behind you. Again, your eyes widen at the sight.

Jungeun is putting on the harness strapped with a huge phallus, ready to thrust into your tightness with the object. Your breathing speeds up, excited by her gigantic cock.

And she remembers something.

“Shit, I’ll go wash my hands first.” Jungeun then hastily heads to the bathroom.

“Sure! I’ll watch our pretty boy closely,” Heejin purrs with a smirk. Her free hand forcefully grabs you by the chin to look into her ethereal eyes.

“Are you ready to be fucked by us, baby?” Heejin looks into your eyes, and they’re gleaming with desire. You’re lost in it. Fuck.

“Y–Yes, daddy,” you can only comply, before Heejin pulls her pants down quickly on the bed, throwing it to god knows where. Your eyes are glued to her wet cunt, but sadly (or not), that’s not going to be your main dish today.

You’re still on all fours, holes ready to be abused by these women like a common whore. Heejin puts on her strap quickly. She just can’t wait to fuck your tightness until you’re unable to walk tomorrow. Those people at the airport are going to laugh at you, walking weakly into the immigration section.

“Turn around, baby,” Heejin says softly, such a contradiction to the gigantic cock she’s wearing. You comply with her request, slowly turning around for your ass to sit against her plastic hardness. You can see a faint reflection of you two on the television.

Suddenly, Heejin grips onto your waist with her soft hands, and you shiver at the coldness of it from the air conditioner. Perhaps they’re a bit too cold.

“I–It’s so cold, daddy.”

“You’ll be fine, baby. You’ll forget how cold my hands are when my dick is in your ass.” And you hear her giggle.

Heejin then pours a generous amount of lube onto her cock, while also plunging her wet finger inside your tightness, painting your inner walls with lubricant. Your body trembles in response. Fuck, she even plays with your prostate just like Jungeun did.

“I’m going to get you nice and wet, okay? Don’t be so tense,” says Heejin, finally pulling her finger out after a while, before pushing the tip into your asshole. She’s fucking you now. So soft, yet so confident in her strokes.

“Fuck!” you cry out in pleasure. Your ass is getting gaped by Heejin’s strap. She’s so big, and you can’t help but shake and writhe as the phallus slowly finds its place inside you.

“Good boy, moan for me like that, baby. Your moan is like a song to me, a damn good one,” Heejin coos.

Her length is slowly pushed and pushed inside you. Its artificial veins graze the walls of your tight asshole. Her grips on your waist grow harsher, but you forget the coldness of them now. With this dick inside your ass, you just can’t think straight.

“You’re s–so big, daddy. I’m so dizzy, hhgnn,” you moan, your mind is going haywire now. You’re at her mercy.

“You’re doing this so well, baby. You’re taking my cock like a champ. Just one more inch and I’ll be fully inside you!”

Her dick starts to press into your prostate gently, sending unbearable pleasure through you. You moan and wail like a slut as it puts a pressure onto your softness until she halts her movement. She’s there. She’s at the hilt.

“I–Is it all inside me, daddy?” you ask; your body is still shaking from the divine rapture Heejin is giving to you.

“Yes, baby, I’m pulling out now.”

Heejin then pulls her enormous cock out of you, slowly. And when it’s half out, she rams it back into you, causing you to moan like a cock-drunk slut.

“Daddy! Ngh.”

“Good boy, good boy,” Heejin coos. Her cock contradicts her gentle words.

“Alright, guys, let’s get this done–” Jungeun walks out of the bathroom, and you see her gasp in shock. “This is not what we’ve agreed on, Heejin.”

Again, you hear Heejin giggle. “Come on, Jungeun. You got to play with his ass, let me!” she purrs.

“Aside, he still has another hole you can fill.” Heejin then reaches for your mouth, inserting her fingers into you and pulling your head up gently from the inside of your hole. Your body arches.

“Ugh, fine, Heejin. But next time, I want to fuck his ass for real, alright?” Jungeun growls before walking towards you. Her artificial cock bounces with her movement before she stops right in front of you.

“Take it, baby, say ah,” Heejin coos.

You play along with her, “Ah.”

Jungeun’s cock is dangling against your face, so lengthy, so thick. Globs of your spit are going to leak out of your mouth when she fucks it roughly.

She grabs onto your head as Heejin lets go of it, leaving your head swaying freely from the force that she fucks you. Jungeun holds her plastic dick in front of your needy lips. You’re still letting out an ‘ah’ sound, ready to take her hardness inside your mouth.

Languidly, Jungeun pushes her length into you, and you start to gag as it reaches the inside of your mouth. You won’t complain, of course (aside from the fact that Jungeun’s cock is in your mouth). You’re happy to be freely used by these women like this while calling them daddy and such monikers. Drool leaks out of your mouth like a fountain. Your eyes flutter with unmatchable pleasure from the women. Your holes are abused roughly, and you’re ecstatic to be their prey.

Jungeun’s cock is slowly pressed into your slutty throat. You gag loudly, but they don’t care, seeing the wanton eyes and all.

“Yes, take my cock like that, you slut,” Jungeun says, grabbing onto the side of your head roughly. Her nails are digging into your scalp. Pain shoots through you. “Such a good boy for daddy.”

You scream into her cock, but it goes unheard, as she starts to pick up her pace quickly. She thrusts and thrusts into your needy mouth. Globs of spit leaks out of your mouth onto the bed. The sound you make is intelligible.

You absolutely adore the way these women are using and abusing you like this–Jungeun pressing her cock into your needy, wanton mouth, and Heejin plunging her dick into your tightness from behind. It’s an ecstatic feeling, really, to be used and abused like this.

“What a cockslut,” Jungeun says sternly. Her cock still ravaging your throat. You gag and gag endlessly, but you’re damn happy to take all of her. Your eyes can’t see anything straight now; they flutter and flutter and Jungeun rams into your hole. Her scent fills your nostrils—musky and tart. It’s like an aphrodisiac.

She then grips onto the back of your head, as if taking it to the hilt isn’t just enough. Suddenly, Jungeun presses herself onto your nose, making your air just the scent of her, all while Heejin is hammering into your prostate. Your mouth is full of her plastic cock.

You can barely breathe. Your eyes water. You make gagging sounds. Though that means shit. You’re revelling in the way you’re sucking Jungeun’s cock, buried inside your slutty mouth. Heejin is fucking your asshole from behind, chasing your orgasm like a prize.

Her tartness is filling your nose. You’re hypnotized by it. You’re so ready to follow any of her commands. Her eyes then meet yours. They gleam with unmatchable sinfulness. She wants this, and you want this.

After a short while, Jungeun pulls her cock out of your used mouth. Your body is shaking and writhing from the pleasure ringing inside you, all while strings of saliva connect your mouth with her phallus.

“Good fucking boy,” Heejin grunts, and you can only smile back at her.

“T–Thanks–cough–daddy,” you sputter out.

Jungeun starts pushing her cock into your slutty mouth again, this time thrusting in and out of it. Your prostate is getting assaulted by Heejin’s cock, one bang after another. Her nails are still digging into your creamy skin on the sides. And the feeling starts to build up inside your stomach. The storm is approaching. You’re going to cum soon!

“D–Daddy,” you say, gagged, muffled by Jungeun’s cock.

“Yes?” Heejin and Jungeun say in unison, and they let out a laugh after—a wicked one.

“I’m gonna–ngh–cum.”

“Cum for us, pretty boy. Consider this your reward,” Jungeun growls, as Heejin giggles from behind you.

Your muscles tense up. Your breaths are growing faster onto Jungeun’s meaty thighs. Heejin is thrusting in and out of you faster than before. She then gives you a loud spank, sending another electric charge through you.

And you break, your cock spills cum out onto the white bedsheets. Your body spasms and shakes as Heejin and Jungeun thrust their cock into you. Those poor staff are going to have a lot of work to do tomorrow.

It’s a copious amount of cum that leaks out of you. You can feel your dick twitches in pleasure. Successive spurts grow softer and softer, and finally, the orgasm dies down. You pant and pant onto Jungeun’s cock, and they seem to catch the stride and pull their lengths out of you. Breathing becomes easier, but your asshole is sorely missing Heejin’s cock. You’re too tired to say anything, though.

“That was so good, baby,” Heejin says, giving your reddened rear another hard spank. You shudder in response.

“I wish we had more time for this, fuck,” Jungeun says, slowly taking her strap off. Heejin is doing the same.

Tired, used, and naked from below the waist, you collapse to the side, panting. Your butthole heaves, missing the presence of its filling. You’re unable to close your mouth too, jaw still adjusting to the absence of a cock.

“Look at him, so cute~,” Heejin says, patting your back to sleep.

“Next time, I’m fucking his ass, Heejin. Don’t pull another shit like this on me.”

“Fineee.”

Your body is all sore from all the stuffing they’ve done to you, but your mind is still in haywire, basking in the joy they’ve inflicted you. And you close your eyes, falling into the nocturne.

—

[reverieblondie]

Surprise Guest

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Warnings: Some dry humping, language, and self indulgent to the max.

Summary: Your brother Bucky invites a guest to spend Christmas with your family... you should have known it was Steve and that old feelings would come back up...

A/N: Hello, This is my first time writing for Steve and I would like to thank @buck-star for showing me their wonderful Fluffy Winter Event! Now if you are used to my BG3 content, this might be a bit different. But I love Steve so please don't judge! The heart wants what the heart wants. If you are new to my writing hi! hope you enjoy and if you have any ideas for Steve (or Chris Evans characters) just ask!

Tropes: Brothers Best Friend, Baking together, Dancing.

Word count: 6,469.

"Bucky's bringing a mystery guest? What, is it some new girlfriend?" 

You tease, watching as your mother picks up your brother's old childhood room, fussing over the bedding and ensuring everything is still just as he left it. The only changes made are the sublet Christmas decorations to make the room appear more festive. She also kept your room in the same state when you left for college; it was like a time capsule every time you two came home for the holidays. 

"Well, from my understanding, it's supposed to be some kind of surprise for us?" She says as she brushes the nonexistent dust from the curtains.

Scrunching your face and piercing your lips, you try to think about who Bucky could be bringing. It's no surprise Bucky is bringing a guest; he always seemed to bring home a stray or two when he came around for the holidays. Sometimes, it was girlfriends to meet Mom or friends from college, like Sam, who had spent last Thanksgiving with your family. But it's supposed to be a surprise… so it would have to be a girlfriend, right? 

You end up just shrugging your shoulders. As long as Bucky didn't bring anyone that would make the holiday awkward, you really didn't care who was coming around. 

Hours later, you're all still waiting for Bucky and the mystery guest to show up. Dad was asleep in his recliner as you and Mom wrapped presents while sharing memories from past Christmases. Fond memories flooded as you thought of the play fighting you and Bucky would always get into and the delicious sweets you would make with Mom. But the best part was just getting to see your family and making more memories with each other.  

During your trip down memory lane, you didn't hear the door slowly opening, and you definitely didn't hear your brother sneaking up behind you. You did, however, feel when he suddenly squeezed you in a tight bear hug, making you scream. 

Embarrassed at being spooked, you turn around and see that it's just Bucky laughing at your reaction. The panic you felt turns into elation as you hug your brother, "You asshole, you scared the crap out of me!"  

Bucky laughs before ruffling your hair, "Wow, language Goober, we have a guest." 

Ah, yes, the guest! You let go of Bucky and finally look towards the door, expecting to see an excited girlfriend, but when you look, your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of their sockets. Filling the doorway with a massive form was the surprise guest…tall, blonde, cute... Steve Rogers? 

Blue eyes watch you intently as he stands holding what you assume to be his and Bucky's bags. You're still not even convinced it's him until you fully take in all the features of his face, full lips, nice nose, and sweet smile that shows off his cute dimples and perfect teeth. Holy shit, that is Steve.

Mom rushes up with a squeal when she sees Bucky. The loud squealing finally jerks your father awake from his snoring as he looks at what his wife could be screaming at. He seems to relax when he sees she's just fussing over Bucky like always. Usually, you would be messing with Bucky at this moment, teasing him about being late and being a mama's boy, but your focus has gone to the elephant or, well, the big bulky guy shaking your father's hand. 

It's been years since you last saw Steve. Unconsciously, you touch your fingers to your lips as what feels like a storm floods your gut. You didn't mean to be staring at Steve, but you feel as if you're in shock. Of course, as you're staring, his eyes leave your fathers to return to you. He smiles at you, and it almost looks like he's about to approach before an excited, pitched scream from your mother has him startled and shooting a wide-eyed look at her.

Her excitement leaves your ears ringing as she goes to Steve, giving him a hug and promptly rubberbanding him for not coming to visit sooner. Steve just fumbles out some excuses as his eyes go from her to you and back to her. Looking back at Bucky, you inch yourself closer to him before swatting his shoulder. 

"Ow! What?" He gripes. 

"You didn't think to tell us it was Steve coming over?" 

Bucky just gives you a smirk, "It was a surprise; you're surprised, right?" 

“yeah…real surprised…” you mumble under your breath.

Both of you watch as your mom continues to gush over Steve, how it's been so long, how he's so tall and different looking, what he has been up to. All questions you wanted to ask yourself. Seeing Steve again throws you for the biggest loop, and frankly, it makes old feelings you thought died freshman year swell up. Why the hell is he here? After all this time, his face looks like some kind of sexy lab experiment gone all too right. 

"Steve, we are just so happy to see you. It's been forever. I should have guessed it would have been you! Right, honey, we should have guessed!" Your mom throws her eyes towards you to see you with confused glare. "Sweetie? Aren't you going to say hi? It's Steve. Isn't that incredible!"

Some might think it's unbelievable… 

Plastering an awkward smile to your face, you give a slight wave, "Hi Steve." 

"Hey, Scout, it's nice to see you again; it's been a while." A smile is stretched on his full lips as he calls you his old nickname, you haven't heard in forever. You almost forgot how he always called you Girl Scout for running around with him and Bucky playing army and then baking cookies afterward. You hated that nickname before, but now that you think about it, the name fits. 

There is a silence as your family watches the lukewarm reunion. Finally, your mom is moving over to you with a wide grin. "I don't think you're going to have to compare heights with him anymore." -Why is she bringing that up… 

You may have had an obnoxious habit of every time Bucky would bring Steve over, you would stand next to him to compare heights. At first, it was just your little secret. You would be behind his back to make sure you weren't getting too tall too fast, but then it became a game. Steve was always a good sport about it, and you always hoped you wouldn't become taller than him. But now, as you look at his 6'2 stature, it's clear that fear wouldn't happen. 

"I'll stand still so we can double-check," Steve chimes in, "It is kind of a tradition, Scout. What do you say?" Your mom looks expectantly as Bucky just gives Steve a quick pat on the back before sneaking off to the kitchen. You walk over to Steve, keeping your eyes steady on his, finding it hard not to roam your eyes down over his broad build. Okay, maybe you did seek a glance down his tight shirt, screaming across his chest, which leads to what you're sure is an impeccable abdomen and narrow waist. God, even his thighs underneath his jeans just look perfect to sit on. -Shit!

Burying down some horny thoughts, you stand in front of Steve, who now towers over you. From this close, you see that he's still every bit as cute (maybe even more handsome…), And he smells of that same musk you have come to recall so well, just this time there is just a hint of spruce. Steve has a smirk on his lips as he looks down at you, "Looks like you never got taller than me." he whispers as you judge your height with your hand; he's a whole head taller than you, maybe more. 

Your cheeks flare with a blush that you're sure is reaching your ears. You look at his face, your eyes immediately going to his smiling lips, and those memories of that night in that lonely hallway come rushing back. Why is it equally wonderful to see him and make your stomach twist into a sicky storm? 

"You're so tall now…" is all you can seem to answer, making Steve chuckle even more and you wish the ground would swallow you up ‘You're so tall now’ yeah no shit!

Finally, you're able to slip out an excuse completely modified at how you're turning into such a flustered schoolgirl! Steve stutters some kind of goodnight after you as you make your way up the stairs; turning back, the last thing you see is a concerned-looking Steve watching you. 

You're quick to rush past all the Christmas decorations and tuck yourself away into your room, leaning your back against the door and doing what you found yourself not doing when you were so close to Steve: Breathe. 

Steve Rogers, honestly, of course it's Steve. You should have considered it sooner since he's been your brother's best friend for years! He's so different now. He was as thin as a pin the last time you saw him. Now he's a total beefcake, and those fluttering feelings of a crush you thought were tamped down years ago are bubbling forward. 

Steve was always a good friend, not only to your brother but to you and your family. Now that you think about it, he was always just a good person? He always defined your brother no matter what and would always help anyone in need. He was bullied and teased when you knew him, but that never stopped him from voicing his opinion and standing up for what was right. Sure, it often ended up with Steve with a busted lip and Bucky pummeling the bully, but you couldn't help but admire his courage and willingness to help people and his kindness.

A sigh slips from your chest… Steve's kindness… he really was kind, sometimes confusing, but ultimately kind…

During the winter dance, you still remember all the beautiful snowflakes in the air and the way the silver tinsel shined under the sparkling lights. It was a tradition that the school put on a Dance before winter break. As a jaded Senior, Bucky wasn't as impressed, but you, as a freshman, were beyond excited. You had saved for new heels, Mom helped you pick the perfect dress, and you even managed to somehow get a date! There was no way this night was going to be ruined! 

The night did not go as planned. 

Your new heels you got on sale? Snapped. The new dress you got? Ruined when someone ran into you with a full glass of punch. And your date? Your oh-so-wonderful date? He left to dance with some flirty junior…

Now, here you are, sitting on the floor outside of the dance, trying not to cry in the dark hallway. You listen to the music, just waiting until you finally hear the last song end. Then you can walk home with Bucky and Steve and forget about this embarrassing night. As if it were fate, a nearby door swings open, and who do you see? Steve Rogers.

Steve looks at you, and his jaw tenses; he immediately turns to go back into the dance to find and try to beat up your ex-date. Before he can, however, you're standing up and quickly grabbing Steve by the sleeve. Steve, being Steve, of course, pauses per your request, but you can tell he didn't want to. 

Steve sits on the floor as you talk about your series of unfortunate events.

"So, how did you figure out I was out here?" 

"When I saw your date dancing with Suzy, it kind of clued me in..." There was a short pause before Steve looked at you confused.

"Why did you even say yes to that idiot?"

Of course, that made you laugh before you shrugged, "I don't know. I think that I was just excited to be asked…" 

Steve nods in understanding, "If that's the case, then I should have asked you." 

You feel butterflies when he says it, and when you turn to look at him, he's looking forward with a noticeable blush. Dammit, he's cute.

As you sit there with Steve, the announcement of the final dance is made, and as you gather your courage to ask him to dance, Steve beats you to the question, "Dance with me?" he asked so quietly, almost like a whisper…

You smile, "I thought you didn't dance?"

"Let's just say I'm willing to dance with you."

"But I don't have shoes."

Steve just looks over at you with a warm smile before he stands, reaching his hand down towards you. "Then I guess you won't be taller than me." You bite your bottom lip as you take his hand, letting you get up. You look into his beautiful blue eyes, "I'm only an inch shorter than you and still growing." 

Steve carefully places your hand on his shoulder before placing his hand on your waist, "Then let me enjoy this while I'm still tall enough to lead."

As the song goes, you dance with Steve, loving how he slightly stumbles and needs to look down at his feet every couple of paces. It's not until you move both his hands to your hips and wrap your arms to hug around his neck that the tension leaves him, and you can sway together in harmony. As you lean your head down to his shoulder, you take in his scent and surprising warmth.

"Thank you, Steve..." you whisper in his ear, Steve chuckles for a moment, his hands seeming to tighten slightly.

"I just wish I was a better dancer... for you." 

"Well, I think that this is perfect." You look into his ocean eyes, "That you're perfect." His cheeks flush red as he smiles clearly not used to the complements. 

You take the time to trace over his handsome features like you have so many times before, but instead of your staring being secret, Steve's eyes stay on you before they flick down your lips. Your heartbeat races, and you can feel yourself blushing redder. Caught, he quickly looks back into your eyes, but that's when you lean in, moving to play with the golden hair at the nape of his neck. 

Swallowing, Steve focuses his eyes on your lips as he places his hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

"Steve... please…"

"Y-You Sure?"

"Yes." That's all you had to say as you closed your eyes and felt Steve take your first kiss. His full lips started sweet and shy before you felt the feeling of his tongue timidly asking for permission to push past your lips. As soon as you let him in and his tongue brushes against yours, he pulls away.

Steve looks at you guilty before he backs away. "I gotta go... tell Bucky I said goodbye."

"Steve, wait!"

But as the song ended, Steve was already gone... leaving with your first kiss and leaving you completely confused.

Thinking back on the memory makes you groan as you go over to your bed, plopping down with a thump. Who the hell kisses someone then leaves! Were you bad at it? Damn you, Steve Rogers, you fucking nerd! That stormy feeling of rejection starts to bloom within your chest. Was it rejection? It felt like it... and after the kiss, things were different. He didn't come around as much, and then he graduated.

Now he's back, tall, and still so cute. Who are you kidding? Steve looks downright sexy, and it isn't even fair! People are not supposed to get hotter like that! Steve looks like he's been living at the gym while your acne just cleared up. And from what you have seen from him tonight, he's still just as charming and lovely…

oh, universe, tho, are such a cold bitch...

The following day hits you like a ton of bricks. You feel as if you didn't get one wink of sleep last night. Dreams ranging from memories to fantasies have kept you from getting any rest. Sighing, you roll out of bed and maybe put on just a little bit of makeup... - Just to look less tired, not for any other reason…

Finally, you make it downstairs, rounding your way over to the kitchen, where the smell of fresh coffee wafs through the air. The sight looks like one from a Christmas card, with the garland hanging from the window and the Christmas-themed tea towels everywhere. Then there's Mom making a frantic list of last-minute needs, Bucky checking his phone, and Steve? Oh, Steve. He stands drinking his cup of coffee, and his eyes seem to go from tired to bright as soon as they lock with yours.

You chime out a good morning as you enter the room. Mom and Bucky mutter out a grody morning in response. 

“Good morning Scout, Coffee?” Steve says in what seems like anticipation and you just give him a small nod and a yes please as you walk to see what your mom is scratching away at. 

Looking over her shoulder as you sit confirms your thought that she needs last-minute things. As soon as you sit, a mug of fresh coffee is placed in front of you, with cream and sugar to follow. Looking up, you see Steve looking down at you with that same kind smile. 

Dammit, he's still so sweet…

"Such a gentleman..." your mom says almost teasingly. Yes, mom, you know! She gives you an expectant look, and all you can do is roll your eyes. 

"Last-minute list? I thought last year you said you were never shopping on Christmas Eve again?" she sighs, ripping the paper from the pad. “Unfortunately, some things can't be helped. So while me and your brother are at the store, you, my favorite daughter, will do the baking."

"I'm your only daughter."

"Jury is still out on that." Bucky snarks

Rolling your eyes, you discreetly shoot Bucky the bird that he fakes being insulted by. Though as soon as mom looks up you two are going back to being civil. . 

"What am I making this year?"

"Your wonderful Chocolate pie and Steve has requested Chocolate Chip Cookies." The request makes you give Steve a pointed look. He quickly turns away, making a fake whistle. You swear if he has only come back for your cookies, you don't care how big he is; you will throw him off the roof.

With the plans set Bucky slides out from his chair pocketing his phone, "Alright, Steve, let's get ready to go."

"Actually, I was going to hang back and give a hand with the baking." -what? 

"She would love that! So kind!" Your mom beams -excuse me? 

"Yeah, maybe you can help her keep the pies in one piece this year." Bucky snickers, teasing at the fact that every year, the pie always has a missing slice by morning. Bucky suspects it's you, considering you made it. You think it's Bucky, but nobody truly knows the truth. 

"I'm not the pie thief you are," you say, pushing Bucky with your elbow. Of course, Bucky isn't just going to take that… so he shoves you back, and the sibling bickering starts. 

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Am Not!" 

"Are Too!" 

"Shut up!" Mom is quick to end the immature argument, but it doesn't stop you and Bucky from sticking your tongues out at each other—very mature.

"You, desserts, Bucky, with me, Steve, I'm sorry." With that, Buck and Mom are gone to do late shopping, leaving you and Steve alone in the kitchen.

It's quiet for a minute before Steve finally turns to you with a wide smile. "Just tell me what to do, Scout. You're in charge."

Ah, so you're leading now.

Grabbing the recipe book, you quickly flip through the pages until you find the right one. With a smile, you shove the book into his large hands. Steve doesn't even seem fazed as he keeps his eyes on yours.

"Chocolate pie, it's foolproof."

Steve cocks his head to the side, "Foolproof? Ouch, Scout." 

"Don't pretend to be offended. I've heard you and Bucky call each other much worse."

Steve steps closer to you, “I don’t know you seem to have a bit of meanness in you know, I saw you give him the middle finger.” Steve tsk his lips and you wince, of course he saw that…  

Not backing away from a challenge, you get even closer—so close you can smell the coffee off his breath. “Well Steve; you haven't seen me in a long time. I guess it only makes sense that I changed."

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as he looks over the recipe but keeping your little game going, "Don’t worry I plan on figuring that out while I'm here." 

“Figuring out what?" you say crossing your arms and popping out your hip, Steve's eyes move to you as they roam slowly over your body, then he smirks.  

"If you're still as sweet as I remember..." The way it just rolls off his tongue is so Sinful. Sure, he's still sweet, but now he's seemed to learn how to flirt. And with how your cheeks heat up from his words, you might be in trouble for falling even more for him.

Instead of quipping back, you just turn away and start gathering the ingredients you need. Trying desperately to ignore the budding tension. Baking in a kitchen with a handsome man can create its own kind of testion. But baking alone in a kitchen with an attractive man you once shared a first kiss with, now that tension could be cut with a knife. 

Time passes as you two continue to silently bake, you wish the teasing had not ended so abruptly because now you are coming up with all the best comebacks, figures…

Turning your head over your shoulder, you watch Steve cut up the chocolate bricks in fine flakes. His large hands are coated in chocolate, and watching his muscles tense and move with the quick movements of the knife is mouthwatering… 

Steve turns to look at you and gives you a soft smile. Quickly, you move your eyes to the cookie mix you're putting together, trying to seem like you are totally not staring at him, imagining how sweet his chocolate-coated fingers would be in your mouth. Rolling your eyes and taking a deep breath, you try to ground yourself in reality for a moment; you're in your parent's kitchen with your brother's best friend; this is not the time to be thinking horny thoughts.  

While lost in your internal struggle, you feel a large hand placed on your hip; The hand is gripping tightly making warmth instantly shooting tingles down your spine. Looking up, you see Steve reaching for a bowl that is very conveniently placed in the cabinet above you. His cologne invades your senses, and you can't be too mad about it. Also, the subtle way he's pushing and leaning on you is making his crotch rub against your ass, either he knows exactly what he's doing or doesn't care to give you any personal space. You imagine it's the latter. 

Once he's retrieved the bowl his breath is fanning against your ear, and his velvet voice numbs your mind to mush: " Sorry, Scout. I needed to grab a bowl." Oh, he's toying with you. 

Finding your grip on reality, you take your bowl of cookies and push yourself out of Steve's sexy radiance. "Next time, ask, huh?" 

You move over to the mixer and start mixing up the dough. You hear Steve clear his throat over the mixture. Looking over your shoulder again, you see his broad frame diligently mixing the filling over the stove. You hate how much you enjoy looking at him and his cute butt…

"Are you worried I'm messing up the mixing?" he calls over his shoulder. You quickly turn around and add the chocolate chips to the fluffy dough.

"Like I said... foolproof, I'm not worried." You say, trying to sound confident.

"So there's another reason why you're staring at me this whole time?" Does he have eyes in the back of his head!?

"I wasn't-"

"Don't even try it," Steve warns as he finally pours the chocolate mix into the pie crust and puts it in the oven to bake. Finally, he turns to face you, Crossing his massive arms in front of him. "I've felt your eyes on me this whole time." 

Shit... Returning to your mixer, you do your old faithful tactic when you don’t want to answer a question, “I don’t know what you're talking about.” 

You hear a groan thinking you have won but then there's a small sigh, "I know you're mad at me..." 

That makes you pause. Mad at him? Were you mad at him? Part of you was for awhile but when you really think about it now you're more confused than anything. You take a deep breath and finally say the one thing you had thought about most after that kiss. 

"You don't just kiss someone and then run away you know." 

You finally turn and see that you have Steves full attention, he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly trying to gather his thoughts.

"I know." he finally gets out.

"Then why did you-"

"I kissed you at the wrong time..." That throws you for a loop. Steve's blush makes the tips of his ears bright red as he continues." You were... lonely and sad..." 

It's your turn to interrupt, "Steve Rogers, did you pity kiss me?" 

Steve's eyes widen as he quickly reaches for you but holds off, "No! No, it was a real kiss... for me, it was a real kiss."

"What do you mean? That kiss felt real to me, I mean, it was my first kiss..." 

You feel yourself wanting to put up your guard but before you can you feel Steve's hands gently sliding up and down your arms before moving to your shoulders carefully brushing away your hair, "I want it to be better. To be right.” Steve's blue eyes look so softly down at you and you feel ensnared all over again. You lean in, and it feels all so familiar. When his hand comes to your cheek and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, “When I kiss you again, you will know what I mean..." 

God, you want him to kiss you again,

”When?” You question. 

Steve leans in, his breath fanning over your lips, “How else will I know if you taste as sweet as you did that night..” 

You feel like you're melting as you close your eyes, the memories of his tongue tasting like peppermint making you crave it now. You rise to your tiptoes as Steve's arms curl around you,  but before you can do anything, the oven's timer is going off. 

Both of you jump before frantically looking for the oven mitts, running into each other as you reach for the oven. Finally, you two get the stove open and pull the pan out at the same time. It's so frantic and excessive you both can't help but laugh as you hold the pie.

"What are you two doing?" The sudden voice of bucky practically scares the crap out of you. 

Steve looks at his friend then just cocks his head, “Baking, obviously.” 

Bucky, ever clueless, just shakes his head as he puts bags of groceries away, you can not believe you almost kissed him again! And almost got caught. You take the pie and place it down to get cooled off. As you turn you run into your mother who is looking at you confused, you think for a moment she's trying to read your mind but then she places her cold hands to your cheeks. 

“Steve, what did you do to my girl? She looks flushed?” 

Steve just chuckles as he helps with the groceries, “I think she was standing too close to the oven, making her get hot.” 

You give him an unamused look, he knows what made you hat and it wasn't a damn oven. 

Hours later, long after you and Steve had finished the desserts, after sitting with your Mom and watching the same Christmas movies you did every year (though this year you might have been distracted…) and going to bed, you find that you're still tossing and turning thinking about Steve; what does he mean when he kisses you again… is he going to? You almost did, but then your family walked in… Will he have the chance? And what does he mean you taste sweet!

2am, and you're still thinking about him; years later, he can still rile you up and keep you second-guessing. Just is not fair, damn hot people…

Not seeing any end to your torment, you decide it's time for the perfect late-night medicine: a sweet treat. Making your way down to the kitchen as quietly as possible, you find the Christmas-themed Tupperware stashing the cookies and take one. The sweetest is only a temporary relief to your racing mind, however. Further trying to distract yourself, you open the fridge, checking the pie, making sure it's still intact, and it is. 

When you close the fridge, you lazily look around the dimly lit room till you see Steve in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and no shirt. Seriously, universe… 

"Looks like Bucky is right; you are the pie thief." 

"I was just checking on it, not eating it." 

Steve steps into the kitchen, takes a seat at the table, and gets himself a cookie as well. You decide to join in, your minds already filled with him. What's the harm? 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

"I thought I heard a pie theft." he taunts, making you chuckle, but it dies off quickly, and that same tension starts piling up again. 

"I was up thinking about you," Steve suddenly admits, "Thinking back on that night…" 

"The night you ran off with my first kiss?" You say it more bitterly than you meant it, but Steve doesn't seem to flinch. 

"I had thought of kissing you a long time before then," he confesses, warming your cheeks. 

"Why didn't you?" 

Steve doesn't look at you while he shrugs his mind on the past, "One, there's an unspoken rule about best friends, sisters, and… I didn't feel good enough, scrawny punk kissing a beautiful, kind girl like you. Thought you would have been modified. Then at the dance when we danced together… you called me perfect. Girls would have never thought to say that, but you did, and I just couldn't help it. When I kissed you, I knew it was wrong, and then I ran, which was even more messed up."  

Steve ends his confession by turning to you with a smile, "I screwed it up," 

You two sit silently, looking out the window into the dark, snowing night, "If you messed it up, why come back?" 

"I was hoping for a second chance, but… when I saw how mad you were and when we interrupted it… it kinda brought me back to reality, shook me and my plan up…" 

Tilting your head, you look at him confused, "Your plan?" 

You see, Steve blushes, "Charm you, and I hope I get to do it right this time…" 

Your laugh was involuntary. You couldn't believe that after all this time, he wanted a do-over. Steve Rogers, you are the biggest dork, and you love it. He looked embarrassed at you, laughing at his confession, but then you stood from your chair and reached down towards him. "Well? How are you going to charm me sitting down? This is your last chance, Steve. Don't blow it."

Steve grabs your hand, standing to his towering height, "What's the first step in the plan, Steve? I'll let you lead."  

"First…" Steve steps closer, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands to hide purchase on your fuzzy pajama bottom hips. "We sway just like that night." 

The two of you start to sway in that same slow dance, and though there is no music, you both know which one is playing in your mind as you move in perfect rhythm. Your hands move from his soft hair to slide down to his chest, where you feel his heart racing through his bare chest. He watches you intently before carefully bringing you to press against his warm body. You can no longer tuck your head into his neck, so you lean into his chest. Steve pauses, and you feel him bring his hand to your cheek, having you look up at him. 

"Second, I will tell you how I think you're the prettiest, funniest, kindest girl I've ever met and how, for years, I have thought of you." 

You bite your lip as you look into his blue eyes, which reflect the colors of the Christmas lights. "When's the part where you kiss me?" you say, a tad breathless. 

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, looking at their flushed color, "That's step three after I ask…" 

"Steve, kiss me before I lose my mind and pummel you." 

That was the exact invitation Steve was waiting for because the next thing you know, he's leaning down and kissing your lips slowly. His hands cupped your cheeks before sliding back down to your waist, his mouth carefully guiding you. It's just as sweet and warm as the first time, but now, with how he moves his lips gently with yours, you can tell he's practiced. Rising your toes, you wrap your hands around his neck and swipe your tongue against his lips, begging for them to part. Once they do, you slip your tongue to taste his. A slight grunt leaves his throat as his hands tighten -Yeah, you learned some things last time. 

Steve slides his hands down your body to find purchase on your ass, giving a squeeze and forcing a moan from you in the process before he lifts you up and places you on the contour. Breaking the kiss, he looks at your red face, catching your breath, "taste sweet.." he mumbles before tilting your head up to leave open-mouth kisses on your neck. 

The feeling of his burning tongue swiping at your sensitive skin has you tightening your thighs to try to ease your aching clit that's begging to feel him closer. As he's licking and marking your skin with reckless abandonment, your hands are pawing and tugging at his soft hair. Holding on to dear life, his head goes lower and lower, passing your collarbone. This must be that real kiss he talked about before. 

Your wandering hands meet the prominent bulge pressed against your leg; softly touching the hardness makes Steve pause as he softly moans into your neck. 

"Steve.." His lips kiss your neck slowly as he spreads your thighs, moving in between them. 

"Yes, baby… what do you want? Anything you want..." he says into your skin, making you shiver as his lips caress your sweet spot. 

You feel his bulge finally press against your covered cunt, and you can't help but gasp, "I want to feel you…" you finally tremble out as you move your hips slowly over him, grinding on his cock. 

Steve watches you in awe for a moment before he's repositioning himself and rocking his hips so the nip nudges your clothed clit over and over. Part of you think this might be a delicious dream; there is no way you're actually dry-humping with Steve on your kitchen table in your parent's house, is there? But when his fat tip teases your clit again, making your toes curl, you know this is a dream, this is real, and you don't care. You need him now. 

You're about to shimmy out of your bottoms and pull Steves down as well,  but the sound creaking of the stairs has you both snapping back to reality. The reality is your hands are about to pull down your pants while Steve has a huge tending boner, and you're on the kitchen table; if caught, there is no explaining that one. So quickly, you're hopping off the table and eagerly pulling Steve to hide in the kitchen's pantry with you. Safely hidden, you and Steve peer through the panty's louvered door to see who is ruining your late-night treat. 

Tiptoeing through the kitchen, you see your father making his way to grab a fork and then going to the fridge. Unbelievable. You owe Bucky an apology.

"That sneaky little—" Before you can finish whispering, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you, his length pushing against you. Turning around carefully, you face him. Only the light streaming in illuminates his face, and you can just see that affection filling his eyes. 

Steve gently kisses your lips again, finding them way too easy in the dim dark. His hands curl around your waist, and his head rests in the crook of your neck. His warm breath makes you melt all too quickly. 

"Scout, I've liked you for so long…" he says into your neck. 

Cuddling him closer, you're about to confess your feelings, those feelings that you had from the moment you met him. Then, the pantry door opens, and you meet your father's shocked expression. His daughter is hiding in the pantry with tousled hair, and her brother's best friend, who is shirtless, is embracing each other. Not a great look…

Eyes going wide as you push yourself away from Steve, trying to fix your hair. Steve clears his throat awkwardly, turning his back towards your father, trying in vain to hide his prevalent bulge. Starting to fumble out an excuse, you're stuttering and panicking for an explanation, but your father is slowly shutting the door before you can even get out a syllable.   

You stare at the Shut door in shock. "He's so going to blab to my mother," you groan.

Back in the darkness, you feel Steve wrapping his arms around you. "Would that be so bad? She has been hinting about us getting together."

"Bucky is going to kick your ass."

Steve kisses your neck again, quickly learning where to tease you with his soft lips. "That's fine if you agree. Come out with me for New Year's." Turning, you press your cheek to his chest, cuddling closer. 

"Can we go dancing?

Steve Chuckles as he kisses your head and holds you tighter, says, "We can do whatever you want. I want to make up for lost time."

"Better late than never."

[am000risbest]

Hay! Heh, I am a fan about your post, and i was wondering if you can do a bakugou x y/n post where they are 25 and have a 6 year old son named kanji that looks and acts like bakugou, and they are at a grocery store and kanji sees a toy and makes a BIG tantrum embarrassing Y/n, and bakugou let's out his strict father side, aka bakugou is 1 hero, so... yeah.... rich.. THANK YOU 😭

Yeah for sure! And thank youvsosososo much,I really appreciate it. As always,have a good read and enjoy!

You,your husband and kanji,your angel of a child were doing regular grocery shopping before passing the toy section.

Kanji would then go over to grab a toy or two and bring it back to you.

“Mama look,can I have these? Pleaseeeee?”

Kanji would then proceed to give you the so called “puppy eyes” but you knew good and well they didn’t work anymore on you.

“No kanji,sorry bud,maybe next time,me and your papa are real busy and can’t spend time or money on toys”

sure you guys were rich but you or Katsuki didn’t want kanji to be a spoiled child that was entitled.

So you both kept him without knowing just exactly how much money was in your back account,and referred from spending so much on toys,as kanji had a box full of them.

“Mama please! I’ll be good I swear! I really want them! I don’t have these all might toys yet!”

“Sorry kanji it’s a no.”

“Mama! Please!”

“Kanji I said no,stop asking.”

“I want them!”

“I know you do,but it doesn’t change the fact that neither me or your dad will not be buying them.”

Kanjis eyes began to tear up and he slummed onto the ground still holding the little toys he had in his hands.

“No! I’m not leaving until I get them!”

“Kanji,stop making a scene and put them away.”

“No!”

kanji then began to sob,flinging his arms around as if there were no tomorrow.

“Kanji tetsu bakugou you get up right now.”

Kanji knew that when you said his full name he was in trouble,but he didn’t care,not when there was an all might trophy toy in his grasp.

“Noo mama! I want them!!”

Kanji was persistent with his cry’s,and Katsuki was already on his way to get his little devil child to calm down.

Katsuki was busy getting produce from a few aisles away before hearing cry’s and little distant yells from you.

“Ah shit,bet he’s acting up again.”

Kanji had almost gotten out of the “toddler crying stage” even though he just turned six,he still sometimes acted like he were 3 years old.

Katsuki put the items you had made him get before a random girl walked up to him and asked for his number.

“Hi dynamite! I was wondering if I could get your number?”

She looked eccentric,but that was quickly shut down by his rbf.

“I have a wife,and kid. I don’t know where you’ve been but if you don’t know that then I obviously don’t talk about them enough,outta my way.”

Katsuki then left the girl alone with a surprised look on her face before leaving.

Katsukis steps were steep,walking fast but not running,because if you guys were in trouble he knew you could handle the both of you and kanji.

“Mama ple-ease!” The hiccups were now apparent and in kanjis way of speech.

“Kanji,I said no.”

Kanji didn’t look at you,just staring at the all might toys he cry’s for.

“But mama!!”

“Get up and put em away”

“Papa I want them,can I have them please?!”

Kanji looked desperate and he definitely looked as if he had a tantrum over it.

By the time Katsuki had reached were you both were,people were already staring.

“No,now get up,clean your tears and put those stupid toys away.”

Kanji didn’t say anything,looking intimidated by katsukis “dad stare” and his deep,rasp voice.

Kanji then got up and walked to where he had gotten the toys from,and walked over before cleaning his tears with his long sleeved shirt.

“Atta boy,now go get us some eggs from the dairy section okay?”

“O-okay papa.”

Kanji stumbled a bit before walking over in sights view,grabbing the eggs and walking back,handing Katsuki the eggs.

“Good job,now I want you to say sorry to mommy for making a scene okay?”

“Sorry mama..”

“It’s okay baby.”

Although he had often tantrums like this,you just couldn’t handle these like Katsuki could.

Kanji then proceeded to jump into the shopping cart,this was a thing he’d do when his tantrums would get stopped,so you and Katsuki didn’t mind because he was right in front of you and in safe sight.

“Dad mode huh?”

“Just doing my job,you know that.”

“Either way,thank you. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“It’s me,I was the same way with my old ma. Always throwing tantrums.”

You and Katsuki both look at kanji,a spitting image of Katsuki.

“Two peas in a pod.”

You said as you looked into katsukis eyes with a sense of wonder and curiosity as to how you got so lucky to have a good husband.

And a great child,even if he doesn’t act like it sometimes,you were still truly grateful.

You and Katsuki continued to do your grocery shopping this time,hand in hand.

[raffe156]

Breakaway State Part 6

Pairing - Price X Female OC “Tank”

Summary - Finally, finally, finally

This one is a little dark towards the end, Not much of Price but this is the bridge chapter for what’s to come an I’m so thankful for all those who have waited patiently I love you all.

Warnings -17+ Angst. Language, Age gap Price (38) Tank (26), Violence, abuse, abuse of power, controlling behaviour, injury, implied torture, death.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank, Luke, Dredd, Mckinley, Crest and Falkirk.

“Thank fuck for that…” Mckinley’s laugh echoed through the van as it pulled away from the base. He turned in his seat, trying to catch your eye, but you only gave him a brief glance before turning to take one last look at the place you were leaving behind. You spotted Kyle just as the van rounded the corner—he would understand.

Once you were on the road, Mckinley couldn’t help himself.

“I hope you lot realize how good you have it,” he said, his voice cutting through the silence.

The van stayed quiet.

“Don’t any of you get any ideas about wearing a Halloween mask, either. I’ll shut that shit down before it starts… I’m looking at you, Dredd…” Mckinley chuckled, but the others remained silent. The lack of response was like a cold slap, and you could see it was starting to eat at him. No one found him funny, and it irritated him. Unfortunately for you, you were right in his line of sight. A nasty grin crept across his face.

“You going to sort things out with your fella before we head out?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you, watching for your reaction.

“Nothing to sort out…” you muttered, knowing exactly who he meant—Luke. You kept your eyes glued to the window, hoping he’d drop it.

“Haha, yeah right. There’s plenty to sort out. From what I hear, he’s playing the field while you’re off fighting in it. But then again, you’re not entirely innocent, are you? Little sleepovers with Price, weekends away with him. Dirty dog.” Mckinley shook his head, clearly enjoying himself.

You could feel the tension in the van rise, and it wasn’t just McKinley—everyone was listening now. You felt Dredd shift behind you, ready to jump in.

“Weekends away?” Crest’s voice cut through the tension, his head raising slightly, his interest piqued.

McKinley smirked triumphantly, like a predator who’d just caught its prey. “Yep, escape-to-the-country style. Up at Price’s house in Hertfordshire—nice and secluded. Found out from his missus, you know, the Doc at the base? The Irish one?”

The words hit you like a punch. McKinley knew exactly which buttons to push, and now, the squad’s attention was fully on you. A few brows raised, and you could feel the heat of their stares.

Dredd, bless her, quickly came to your defense. “It wasn’t just them two! Kyle was there, too. Doesn’t sound like a romantic weekend to me, does it?” She let out a soft laugh, trying to defuse the situation.

“They weren’t together..”

“What was that?” McKinley cupped his ear, feigning ignorance, his grin widening.

“They weren’t together… not that it matters.” The words came out sharper than you intended, your blood starting to boil.

Dredd’s hand squeezed your arm from behind, a silent plea to let it go, but it was too late. McKinley had already pushed you too far.

“Not what the Doc said, though,” he said with a mock sigh. “Ah well, only you and Price know what really went on. I wonder if that’s why you transferred?” He turned back around in his seat, content with himself.

The seed had been planted. To the rest of the team, you were now a suspected homewrecker—and worse, the home you’d wrecked was that of your former captain.

The squad exchanged a few fleeting glances, the tension palpable. No one spoke for the rest of the ride, and the silence in the van was deafening as the weight of McKinley’s words hung heavily in the air.

*********************

“I’m not looking forward to this…” You thudded your head back against the stained headboard, the frustration evident in the gesture.

“Just leave him on read,” Dredd muttered, sitting cross-legged on the bed next to yours, casually rolling a cigarette. “He already thinks you’re gone for a while.”

The motel room was a depressing sight, tucked away near the ship-out base, its stale air heavy with the smell of smoke and spilled beer. The two creaky single beds groaned under the smallest movements, their springs long past their prime. They had definitely seen better days, but at this point, it didn’t matter. As long as the door locked and kept Mckinley out, it might as well have been the Radisson.

“I can’t leave him on read,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t want him thinking he has to wait around for me… He has no obligation to me. I’ve told him that from day one. He deserves more than this. Hell, I might not even make it back—might get taken out, put out of my misery.” You threw your hands up in mock exasperation, but the thought wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded. For you, and for people like you, that card was always ready to be pulled. It hovered, high in the deck, just waiting for the right moment.

“More like put down by Mckinley,” Dredd said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She wasn’t wrong.

Before you could even let that sink in, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. It was Luke. Your stomach dropped, a strange weight settling in your chest. Why did this feel like a breakup? Could it even be classified as that? You’d never made things official. Hell, he didn’t even know what you did for a living. As far as he knew, you were just working abroad, setting up a logistics depot. Was it a breakup? Or just… a break? You hadn’t even thought about what to say, hadn’t planned for this moment.

“You gonna answer that, or you actually going to take my advice for once?” Dredd’s voice cut through the silence as she leaned out the window, struggling to light her cigarette.

Before you could even process, she was already at your side, grabbing the phone and answering it for you. With a flick of her wrist, she put it on speaker, then casually leaned back out the window, puffing smoke as if nothing was amiss.

The phone crackled to life.

“Hey, city girl.”

You took a breath, your heart suddenly heavy. “Hey… you okay?”

Dredd was still trying to push herself further out the window. You glanced at her, then back at the phone. For a split second, you thought about joining her.

****************************

Price sat at his desk, shuffling through papers that required his attention, but his mind wasn’t on the job. He lacked the patience, the energy—anything really—to deal with the endless stack. But more than anything, he couldn’t shake the thought that you were gone. Not just off base, but probably out of the country. That fact was hard to swallow. Yet, as the door to his office creaked open, there was a fleeting moment of hope—hope that you’d walk through it, storming in with that familiar, thunderous look on your face, ready to give him an earful. You’d tell him what a twat he was, how you wanted to come back, to come home. But no… standing in the doorway, where you should be, was Kyle, holding a mug with a large carp on the front and the words “Master-Baiter” emblazoned across it.

It was another secret Santa gift from you to Soap. The memory made Price chuckle despite himself, recalling the pride on your face as Soap unwrapped it, immediately accusing Ghost of being the culprit and starting one of his usual ruckus-filled tirades. The theme for the gift exchange had been “shit mugs.” Soap had Ghost, who received a blank mug that only revealed its true message—C*NT—when it was heated, drawing laughs every time someone used it. Kyle had drawn Price’s name, gifting him a mug that read “World’s Best Dad.” Price had smiled when he opened it, raising an eyebrow and saying, “Thanks, SON.” Kyle had sworn blind that he’d ordered “World’s Best Boss” instead, but either way, it was perfect. Ghost had given Kyle the “Shit in Bed” mug, and Price had watched with a wry smile as you unwrapped yours, reading the words “Accident Prone” across the front.

“Very funny!” You had swatted his arm, and he’d laughed.

“Glad you like it,” he had said, his grin widening.

“Very fitting, lass,” Soap had added, raising his mug in a mock toast. The rest of you had joined in, clinking mugs and sharing a moment of camaraderie.

The memory faded, and Price snapped back to the present. Kyle was now sitting in the chair across from him, carefully placing the “Master-Baiter” mug on his desk, his face a mix of concern and hope.

“You heard anything?” Kyle asked, voice tight.

“Not a thing, lad. All hush-hush on this one,” Price replied, leaning back in his chair and taking a slow sip from the mug. “Not even Laswell’s got a whiff of anything. It’s one of those ‘need to know’ deals, and right now, we don’t need to know, I guess.”

Kyle’s face darkened, and he started picking at his nail—a nervous habit that only appeared when he was truly wound up.

“Fuck’s sake… don’t ask me why, but I’ve just got a bad feeling about the whole thing.”

“Same, lad… same.” Price’s voice was grim, his eyes distant as he looked out the window. The weight of the situation hung heavy between them.

*******************************************

You couldn’t even remember how long you’d been sitting in the freezing cold truck. All that mattered was staying close to Crest—he was like a human furnace, a welcome warmth in the biting chill. You shifted closer to him in the front seat as the truck rumbled through the quiet streets of Tiraspol. The streetlights flickered on, casting long shadows across the road, and you knew you weren’t far from the safe house.

Crest was a soft-spoken Yorkshireman, a man you knew only in passing. He had served briefly with your first captain, Falkirk, and often spoke of him with a fondness that made it clear the two shared a bond. Over time, you’d found common ground in stories of Falkirk and tales of the infamous 141. Crest, with his quiet admiration, had something of a man crush on Price—something you couldn’t ignore. It showed in the way he’d let his beard grow out, shaving only the center to mimic Price’s signature look. And when he spoke, most of his questions were about Price, with a few curious ones about Ghost thrown in for good measure.

“Does he sleep in the mask?” Crest asked, voice thick with curiosity—he was voicing the question that had been on everyone’s mind.

“He does, yeah.” You smirked, recalling the moment vividly. “Shit me up one night. I’d just come off watch, crashed out on one of the mattresses, and rolled over to find bam—his bloody skull mask, just staring at me. What made it worse was that his eyes were closed, so all I could see were these pitch-black holes in the dark. I nearly had a heart attack, rolled right off the bed, and landed on Soap. He starts shouting, waking up the whole room. Price comes running, thinking we’ve been made, and Ghost just sits up, all casual, asking why I’m on the ground next to Soap.”

The memory made you smile.

“Sounds like a right laugh,” Crest muttered, raising an eyebrow. “But, uh… how does he eat or shower with that thing on? Does he shower with it?”

He furrowed his brow, clearly trying to picture how Ghost managed to drink a cup of tea with that mask on. It wasn’t a pleasant image.

“Jesus, Crest, how would she know if he showers with the damn thing on?” Dredd chimed in from the backseat, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Plus, if she’d seen him in the shower, don’t you think I’d be the first to know something so important?”

Dredd’s laugh rang out, her gun was hidden under a blanket, but the tension in the air had lightened—at least for now.

Crest, however, had turned a deep shade of red as the weight of his question settled. He stammered, suddenly aware of how ridiculous it sounded.

“Sorry Tank, I…”

Crest didn’t finish his sentence—he couldn’t. You turned toward him, but it was already too late. The bullet struck without warning, its sharp hiss inaudible in the chaos. You just heard the sickening sound of him choking on his own blood as his body slumped forward, sending the truck veering off the road and crashing into a ditch.

Everything seemed to stretch into slow motion as the truck rolled. You felt a dull pain spreading through your head and wrist, but the rest of your body felt strangely numb, as if it no longer belonged to you. You tried to prepare yourself for what was coming next—find your gun, defend yourself—but your hand wouldn’t respond. The pain in your skull splintered like shards of glass, each jagged piece tearing through your senses.

The last thing you felt before everything went dark was the gradual fading of Crest’s warmth, slipping away from your side.

**********************************

“Well, look who’s finally awake.”

The voice was unmistakable… Soap? You tried to sit up, but a steady yet gentle hand held you back.

“Easy there, kid. Take it slow. You’ve got quite the bump on your head,” Price said with a reassuring smile, helping you sit up.

“Where am I?” you asked, glancing at Price.

“Told you she was accident-prone,” Soap chuckled, giving Kyle a playful smack on the back.

“How did you all get here?” you asked, turning to Soap.

“Guess that means he’s terrible in bed, then?” Price shot a teasing glance at Kyle.

“Yeah, and he’s a C*NT” Soap laughed, his voice echoing through the room as he clearly found himself hilarious.

Your eyes shifted to the corner, where Ghost stood motionless, his presence looming. He hadn’t said a word, just observing in his usual quiet, unreadable way.

“Where’s Crest? Is he ok? I didn’t even see the shooter?” Your eyes pleading with Ghost to give you answers. How were they all here?

“Well we all know your mug is a perfect fit eh fairy liquid!” Kyle laughed.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on please?” You glanced from Price to Ghost, your voice cracking, a lump in your throat forming.

Price cupped your face, his touch firm yet oddly soothing. Though his touch wasn’t necessary, it was comforting, and your reaction made that clear. You almost melted into his palm, the warmth of him seeping deep into your bones, filling you with a sense of safety.

You glanced up at his wide smile, and just as you were about to return a weak one, his hand slipped away from your face.

“You need to wake up, kid…”

“What? … I am… I’m…”

The words felt heavy on your tongue, but something in the way he spoke made the air shift—unnervingly cold, like a warning you couldn’t quite place.

The icy cold water struck you like a violent slap, ripping the breath from your lungs as you jolted upright, gasping in shock. But before you could even steady yourself, you were dragged down by a force and the deafening clank of chains.

Collapsing to the ground, your eyes shot forward, locking onto the heavy iron door looming in front of you. Just beside it, a dark figure stood, holding a bucket with a sinister stillness.

The room was cold, the air thick with the stench of damp concrete and stale air. You turned slowly, the harsh scrape of your shackles echoing in the silence. Looking down, you saw the heavy chains binding your wrists, the cold metal biting into your skin. They were bolted to the concrete floor.

Your mind raced, adrenaline surging as the questions piled up. How had you missed the shooter? You’d let your guard down, gotten comfortable—no, lazy. That was the mistake. Crest… where was he? Had he made it out? Was he alive? Dredd—had she escaped? Had she managed to slip away, lay low until things cleared up? Maybe she’d gotten back to the safe house, or even to the backup house. But the uncertainty gnawed at you, each thought more unsettling than the last.

Did McKinley know? The thought hit you like a jolt of cold electricity. This mission had been clear from the start—if caught, you are not acknowledged. There were no backup plans, no rescue team, no second chances. You were disposable.

You were on your own.

The realization settled in like a heavy stone in your chest, and for a moment, everything felt impossibly still. No one would come for you, no one would speak your name. If you didn’t get out of this yourself, there would be no one to blame but you.

Before you could ponder your fate any further, a second figure appeared in the doorway. The sound of footsteps echoed through the cold, empty space, each step deliberate, measured. A tall, thin man made his way toward you, his movements almost unsettlingly calm.

In the dim light, you could just make out his features: dark eyes, sharp and unblinking, and hair as black as coal, stark against his pale skin. He was impeccably dressed in a suit—clean, pressed, and entirely out of place in the grim surroundings. His presence made your pulse quicken, your instincts screaming that he was not someone you wanted to meet.

And then, the realization hit like a gut punch. Staring at you with cold, calculating eyes was one of the world’s most wanted criminals—the very reason you were here in this godforsaken town. Vladimir Makarov.

The name alone was enough to freeze your blood. His reputation preceded him—ruthless, cunning, and without mercy. Every mission, every brief, every intelligence report had warned you of him. But no amount of preparation could have ever truly prepared you for the man standing in front of you now.

“Good morning, Tank. How very nice it is to finally meet you…” Makarov’s voice was cold, each word laced with a mocking sweetness that made your skin crawl. “…I’m sorry about your friend.”

His words cut through the silence like a knife, but you couldn’t help the sick, twisted laugh that bubbled up in your throat. It was probably hysteria setting in, a coping mechanism for the absurdity of the situation. All those years spent hearing about Makarov—the Russian scumbag that Price had been gunning for relentlessly—and now, here he was. Standing right in front of you, casually offering some sick version of politeness.

Good morning, like he wasn’t the very reason you’d been dragged into this nightmare. Like you weren’t sitting here, shackled and broken, Crest dead, Dread MIA, all because of him.

You almost wanted to laugh again. Almost. But it died in your throat, the weight of reality sinking in. This wasn’t some briefing room or war room banter—it was real. And Makarov, for all his cold composure, was here because he wanted something. That much was certain. His eyes never left yours, calculating, waiting for a reaction, a weakness. The mockery in his voice was a mask, but beneath it, you could feel the tension—the thinly veiled threat of what was to come.

You had no doubt he was enjoying this moment, savoring the control he now held. But what was it that he wanted? Information? Revenge? Or something more personal, something that would break you in ways no one could predict?

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as he took a slow step forward. You could almost feel the weight of his presence pressing down on you, and despite everything—despite the pain, the fear—you refused to let him see how much it rattled you.

Not yet. Not until you knew what game he was playing.

The figure in the doorway bent down, reaching for something on the floor. It was square, bulky, and heavy. With a cold, deliberate motion, the man placed it down next to Makarov. A car battery. The heavy thud of it hitting the ground felt like a warning, its significance sinking in with a quiet dread.

“Let’s see how strong Price makes his toy soldiers, eh?”

[slum-eater03]

A DRUNKEN KING |radioapple|

genre: angst + fluff, angst with happy ending

dynamic: drunkard mess x sober sadist

summary: lucifer finds himself getting drunk at the hotels bar till late at night with angel and husk. only for alastor to find him and wish for blackmail on the drunk king. but it ends up being a more deep, flutter induced conversation rather than blackmail material.

word count: 2.6k

word count for actual fanfic: 2.5k

warnings: heavy cussing, major alcohol abuse, abandoned lover, mentions of depression, not reread (sorry for mistakes ) slight ooc, and mentions of sex.

[this is also posted on AO3 + tumblr under the same title]

_________________________________________________

_________________________________________________

A DRUNKEN KING |radioapple|

one drink turns to two, two turns to five, five turns ten, ten turns to twenty, then the drinks stop counting. the drinks continue flowing, never ending. the drinks numb the pain, the drink cancel his feelings, the drinks help.

even though it took twenty-three drinks for him to finally feel a little dazed. it took many drinks for him to start slurring, took even more for him to start hiccuping and being all giggly.

and of course, only at that moment, do the sinners that occupy the seats near him feel relaxed enough to talk.

“you ever sleep with a man, handsome?” the spider demon slurred just a little, a little tipsy himself.

the king leaned his head up from his crossed arms on the bar counter, “sleep with a man? why would i do that when i have a wife to do so?”

“oh shit! you’re married?” the pink demon said with eyes wide.

lucifer stayed staring at the demon before slowly looking in front of him, “yeah, maybe, i don’t fucking know.”

“that sounds complicated,” the bartender muttered with his rough tone.

lucifer nodded his head to the side, humming in agreement, “you’re preaching to the choir, cat man.”

after the many drinks shared, husk has gotten used to the drunken nickname.

“how the fuck do you not know who’re your married to, toots?” the spider demon leaned near lucifer.

lucifer shrugged in a lazy, drunk way, “i haven’t seen her in, well, i don’t fucking know,” he chuckles but no humor occupied it.

“she.. left you?” angel said with a quirk of a brow.

lucifer gave a drunk sneer, “as if we were never a thing, like we didn’t *hic* have a fffffucking kid together!” as lucifer spoke the more he sat up, a sad grin toying his mouth. his sharp teeth showing in a proud way.

“shit man, why’d she leave?” angel felt bad for the fallen angel, but at the same time was curious. i mean, who leaves the king of hell and lives to tell the story?

“hey man, when you find out, could you tell me?” lucifer asked as he peered over at the demon before taking another swig of his drink, “i just know i woke up and she was gone..” he muttered. he leaned his head down, “i waited so long for her.. so fucking pathetic.”

suddenly, angel didn’t feel so tipsy. he looked over at the short demon, whom also made eye contact with the pink demon, before the two went back to looking at the king. angel sat straighter and husk stood awkwardly, he could barely cheer up angel, who is a low ranked nobody, no way he could do the same with the king of hell.

“ey, uh, sorry sweets, must be hard,” angel muttered, understanding the seriousness of the situation at hand.

“why are you sorry? you didn’t fucking leave me,” lucifer muttered, “ah shit, *hic*, i miss her so much, so ffffuckinnggg much.”

“who do you miss?” both husk and angel jumped in surprise at the newly arrived voice, yet lucifer stayed still, stuck in his mind filled with memories of the beautiful woman he loved.

lucifer’s face slowly went back down to his arms, resting his face and snuggling into his white clothing further.

“uh, he’s a little tipsy right now, cutie pie,” even though his sentence looks like his normal tone, angel sounds more down, more sullen, weary for the king himself.

“ahh, that did not answer my question!” alastor says with a cheery voice, static breaking through it multiple times.

husk rolled his eyes as he cleaned one of the many glass cups the king drank from, “he’s talkin’ bout his failing marriage.”

“i see! what a common drunken confession!” alastor went quiet and his red eyed stare traveled to the drooped over king whom had slumped shoulders and a still body.

“yeah, i think failing isn’t the right word, kitty,” angel taunted as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his long leg over the other, “the marriage is over, no savin it, toots,” angel added.

“shove it in my down my fucking throat why don’t chu? *hic*” the king of hell muttered, though it was muffled as his face was tucked into his arms.

angel rolled his eyes slightly, “i don’t need ta, you already know it, handsome.”

“ffuckkkkk youuuuu,” the king slurred slightly as he leaned up and gave angel a pointed finger. lucifer poked angel in his chest twice before his angry face fell into a more sullen, sadden one, “but you’re, *hic*, right. it is.. over between me and her..”

“as if, you’re practically a kicked puppy, abandoned by its owner on the side of the road,” angel rolled his eyes and soon moved his attention to the bartender. he leaned against it, “when you’re done with this, wanna hang around my room for a bit? i’ve got a fun game we could play,” angel winked.

husk grumbled and rolled his eyes before turning around and placing the stacked glass cups he had cleaned and dried into their rightful places.

“that doesn’t sound like a no, kitty,” angel added, leaning closer towards husk.

“shut up, or else it will be,” husk looked over his shoulder and threw a mean glare at angel before turning around and finishing his job.

angel barked out a laugh, “my lips are sealed, toots.”

husk rolled his eyes, and somehow angel sensed it.

but while the two were stuck paying only each other attention, the other two guys were doing their own thing.

lucifer looked down at the counter, his arms now hanging at his side. he missed his wife. he missed her so much that it hurt physically. he could still see her. he closed his eyes softly and he saw her there. just in arms reach.

she gave him a soft smile, her eyes dazed with love and warmth as she stared at him. he looked down at himself, he was holding a baby. his baby. his little charlie. the little baby giggled and toyed with a fallen piece of blond hair from his head and he felt a smile form warmly on his face.

he peered back up and he looked at his wife again. he took in her image, her beauty, her love. the way she stood with her sleep clothes still on, a baggy shirt lucifer had stolen to wear multiple times, a pair of shorts the king was sure was his own, and socks that gripped her feet in a soft way.

her hair was messy, strands fell to her face and he felt the need to go to her, to tuck them back into place, to place his own soft kisses on her cheek and forehead and tell her good morning and how much he loves her.

but then his eyes open. she’s gone. he looks at his arms, the little bundle of giggles and warmth is gone. he’s alone. he stares at the cold counter before sighing.

the alcohol was getting to him, he’d never be like this in front of people, much less alastor. but he hasn’t really noticed alastor. i mean, the deer demon hadn’t shown himself to the king, how should lucifer know he’s there?

but then alastor does show himself.

“penny for your thoughts, your majesty?” the way he said your majesty, it wasn’t sarcastic, but it wasn’t dripped with adoration or loyalty, just a nickname. alastor said it as if he had said luci or lou.

lucifer turns his head to the demon that now occupies the seat next to him. the king has to crane his neck up a bit in order to actually see the antlered demon.

“what?” lucifer slurred, not really understanding what alastor had said.

“i’m asking you what you’re thinking of, especially in your drunken state,” alastor rephrased.

“i- i don’t know, man,” lucifer said in a sluggish way as he turned his head back to the counter.

“come on, spill it, your majesty. i don’t think i’ve ever seen you drunk, i guess there is a first time for everything,” alastor shrugged, wanting to abuse this moment, wishing lucifer would talk and spill stuff for alastor to use as black mail.

“i’m not duckin drunk,” lucifer growled a little, he wasn’t drunk, he couldn’t be drunk.

“well, you did just say ‘duckin’ instead of the other word, lucifer.”

“common mistake, you deer headed sinner,” lucifer muttered.

alastor sighed, “i see, you are definitely not drunk and is definitely in the right mind space,” alastor rolled his deep red eyes.

a grin formed on the kings mouth, his pointy white teeth showing proudly in a giddy way, and he sits up, leaning backwards just enough where he doesn’t fall on the small stool.

“right, see you learn *hic* pretty quickly, uh, what’s your name?”

alastor gave him a blank look, “we’ve been working together for a little bit, i don’t know if i should be offended or not, sire,” this time when he said the nickname, a sort of venom spilled into his tone.

lucifer rolled his eyes, “fine fine gregory, anyways, you got a bed i can get to? this seat is hurting my ass.”

“what a royal pain the ass you are, your majesty,” alastor grinned, but in a sarcastic, blank way.

“uh, yeah yeah, sure, *hic* anyways, you got a bed george?”

“i do, just not one you are allowed to sleep in,” alastor said in a tone of obvious.

“for someone, *hic*, calling me ‘sire’ and ‘your majesty’, you seem to suck, *hic*, at being a servant,” lucifer leaned close to alastor, making alastor lean back to keep a good distance.

“that’s cause i’m no servant,” alastor brought his red ripped hand up and pressed his pointer finger into the kings chest, causing the fallen angel to move back in a very easy, very sluggish way.

“i’m just a simple, ‘commoner’, who resides in your, ‘kingdom’.”

“same fucking thing, you loser,” lucifer said as he titled his head to the side and stared up at the much taller being.

“it actually isn’t, your majesty, anyways, this talk has gotten no where, i am going to return to my room,” yet the way he said it was a more joking, showing off style.

alastor was teasing the drunken, confused king.

“room? can’t i just take yours for tonight, gilda?”

alastor sighed as he stood from his seat, “call me my name, and i’ll let you take my bed,” though alastor wasn’t going to give up his bed either way.

“whaaaaat? why does a king like, *hic*, i have to remember a servants name like yours?”

“so you can get my bed, of course,” alastor tilted his head, his smile widening and eyes crinkling at the corners.

“huh, you are, *hic*, definitely not a good servant, harrison.”

“wrong! that is not my name, your majesty, guess you don’t get my bed,” alastor taunted, he wanted a good reaction, a reaction that will make him not regret ever going to the bar where he knew the king would be.

“uh, lucile? you look, *hic*, like a lucile with that haircut,” lucifer spoke as he leaned to the side so he could see alastor’s hair cut all the way.

“is that good or bad?”

lucifer paused, staring at his even hair, then his eyes dragged to the long, pointy ears that could play off as hair on the top of alastor’s head.

a soft smile forms on lucifer’s mouth as his eyes drag to meet alastor’s.

“i knew a lucile.. in heaven, very sweet, nice, her hair was always pretty. it’s,” he pauses and looks at alastor’s hair once more before meeting his eyes again, “you have pretty hair, alastor, it’s a good thing, like a, uh, *hic*, compliment of sorts.”

alastor paused as he stared at lucifer. alastor felt warmth form in his cheeks and he felt his ears slightly twitch and his fluffy, deer tail wag just got a second.

after a few seconds, his tail wagged again, and again, and alastor’s lips start to tremble while trying to maintain its evil grinning form.

“you, uh, i see you remembered my name!” alastor pointed out, trying his hardest to hide the warm blush on his cheeks and the wags his fluffy tail keeps creating.

“oh, alastor? you can’t be alastor,” lucifer spoke up as he leaned against the counter in a sort of sluggish way.

alastor’s tail paused the wagging and his eye brow quirked, “why not?”

lucifer looked him up and down, “you’re way to ugly to be him, i mean, your whole body is, *hic*, practically blurring together, alastor is very pretty, he has a nice smile.”

and the tail went back to wagging.

“what do you mean pretty? and nice smile? i don’t think alastor is going for nice smile, your majesty,” alastor muttered, his lips shaking just the slightest as his face heated further.

“i don’t think he tries to do anything, that’s why he’s so great, and.. he’s nice with my baby.”

“what?”

“charlie, my daughter, *hic*, he, he makes her happy… the way i couldn’t.”

“i don’t think you see the way your daughter looks at you.” alastor spoke in a soft tone as he stared down the king.

the king lets out a soft chuckle, “that’s what her little girlfriend said, same as the spider guy.. now you charles? what, what am i missing? i mean, i’ve got eyes! i-i see her alright, i see her everyday.. i don’t know what makes me and everyone else different. i have perfect eye sight, she… she looks at me more like a boss, like im the big evil over lord who controls everything.. im not her dad anymore, im just father.”

alastor stared at the king as he hangs his head and holds it in his palms. this is what alastor wanted. he wanted the king to break, to spill his inner thoughts. he wanted black mail.

yet alastor knew that this was never coming out of his mouth. the words that the king is speaking, will never see the light of day until said man speaks about it once more.

“i miss her, like a lot,” the kings voice broke as he looked up and met alastor’s eyes, yet no tears brimmed the fallen angels eyes for alastor to know that lucifer was in pain, “i messed us up, i messed, her and me, and i can’t go back… agh, fuck, i really can’t tell you how much i miss her, peter.”

something told alastor that it wasn’t just charlie the king was talking about.

it went quiet, just the two staring at each other, one with the eyes of a broken man, and the other with the eyes of a predator.

alastor broke the silence first, “i believe you have a room to occupy, sire,” static was faint over alastor’s voice as he watched the king.

the king looked up at him, a small “hic” noise left his mouth before a childish grin formed on his face, “i guess you are a good servant, dan.”

alastor sighed, “i guess so, your majesty.”

[myveryownfanfiction]

Rickmas day 23: eve of revelations

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @deepperplexity, @smilingformoney

warnings: swearing

people danced around each other as the ball continued on. Music swelled as I broke away from one of the men maid Marion had invited. I ducked away into a hallway before running into Marion.

“enjoying the ball?” She asked. I gave her a smile. “I know. I don’t know where some of these people came from. I did not invite all of them.”

“Don’t get me wrong Marion, it isn’t as big as it could be. But half these guests could take this place down. Especially with how much they’ve been drinking.” I teased. She looped her arm through mine before guiding me towards the courtyard. “I’ve escaped at least two marriage proposals already.” I whispered, bowing my head as we passed one of the lords. “From men old enough to be my father no less.”

“Well why not?” Marion giggled. “They’ll pass in a few years and leave you well cared for.” I shuddered as I looked at her.

“how much have you had to drink Marion?” I laughed. She shushed me as she giggled.

“shhh. It’s not lady like to drink in excess.” I rolled my eyes as I steadied her.

“alright Marion.” I said with a smile. “Besides. When I marry I want it to be for love not just status.”

“and what pray tell does that entail?” Marion said.

“like you and robin.” I whispered back. “A man who can provide for me. Who loves me as I am. Who won’t try to hide me away in some…castle…” I paused as the man I was thinking about entered the courtyard. Marion followed my gaze and smiled. Letting go of my arm, she pressed her cheek to mine in goodbye.

“I do believe you’ve found your man.” She whispered. “Good luck.” I frowned as she hurried away, watching her retreating form.

“My lord.” I bowed my head as the sheriff stopped next to me. George chuckled as he shook his head. “What’s so funny?”

“how long have we known each other?” George said, offering me his arm. “And you still insist on calling me lord.” I gently hit his arm.

“Shut up you ass.” I laughed as he led me out towards the gardens. “How have things been in Nottingham?”

“shit.” George said. “The lords keep encroaching. I’ve had to send the wolves out after them.” I leaned into him slightly as the cold wind cut through me. George moved his cape to cover me slightly before continuing on. “And every lady and their mother are sending eligible matches to the castle every day. It’s honestly getting frustrating.”

“I’ll bet.” I said, looking over at him. I bit my lip as I felt my chest tighten. Of course he’d choose someone of standing. Someone who could give him everything he wanted. I swallowed down my jealousy as we continued our stroll.

“and what of you? How many suitors have you turned away tonight?” George teased as he gently bumped my shoulder. “Or have you found the one here tonight?” His cheeks tinted pink, although it was hard to tell if it was from the cold or something else.

“two proposals. I turned them both down.” I shrugged. “My heart already belongs to another.” George nodded, his head tilted down.

“ah.” He intoned. We walked on in silence for a minute. “So it would be amiss if I were to ask…” I turned towards George, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“George…” I looked at him, cheeks heating up. He looked at me bashfully. “Are you…asking to court me?” With a wink, George broke away from me. He bowed low before looking up at me.

“if you’ll have me.” He said, voice soft in the night. “You look like you’ve had a revelation.”

“I just didn’t realize that my sentiments were returned.” I admitted. George kissed the back of my hand as I smiled at him. “I’d love for you to court me George.” He smiled brightly as he straightened.

“it would be my pleasure.” George said, taking up our previous position and continuing through the courtyard.

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye

[musubiki]

love the idea that for big gift events like limes birthday/christmas/valentines day, lime just has a MASS of gifts from all the girls at school who like him, and then while hes opening them up mochi is RIGHT THERE getting first dibs at the stuff he doesnt want

[twinknote]

i have a feeling my mom (who has acted extremely upset + sympathetic about me sweating profusely in my shitty 80+ degree room) is going to tell me that they can’t help me replace my 20+ year old ac unit for $250, even tho they are about to pay Thousands of dollars to replace their central ac bc clearly her needs are more important than mine (when one of my worst and most impactful symptoms is heat intolerance, which makes me dehydrated and even more dizzy and fatigued and i’ve been getting dehydration headaches even tho i’m drinking almost a gallon a day)

[rainingincale]

.

[theflyingfeeling]

...🫥

[some-pers0n]

i never watched arcane cos of the transmisogynistic joke in like episode 1 is it any good after that

There's a transmisogynistic joke in there? Damn that stinks. Anywho, I'd say Arcane is pretty good all around. It's really quite fun and has excellent animation and style as well as an interesting story with fun and dynamic characters. Personally I'm going on a bit of a hater arc unfortunately due to me not really being too pleased with the second season, but overall I think it's worth your time.

[spinecurlingmice]

okay more on hajime's underwear. . in a world where all the fte's are canon for everybody and not just a gameplay thing, do you think everybody on the island made it like. a bet or something. every single person he's became close with on this fucking island gave him their panties as a token of closeness, so like are they waiting for him to reciprocate?? the one person he gives his underwear to is like. the Chosen hajime person and they get to gloat ? do they ask.

[acourtofquestions]

Golden flame danced between her fingers.

Elide recoiled, and the fire vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"My name is Essar," the female said softly. "I am a friend--of your friends, I believe."

Elide said nothing.

"Cairn is a monster," Essar said, taking a step closer. "Stay far from him."

"I need to find him."

"You played the part of his mistreated lover well enough. You have to know something about him. What he does."

"If you know where he is, please tell me." She wasn't above begging.

Essar ran an eye over Elide. Then she said, "He was in this city until yesterday. Then he went out to the eastern camp." She pointed with a thumb over a shoulder. "He's there now."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's not terrorizing the patrons of every fine establishment in this town, glutting himself on the coin Maeve gave him when he took the blood oath."

Elide blinked. She had hoped some of the Fae might be opposed to Maeve, especially after the battle in Eyllwe, but to find such outright distaste...

Essar then added, "And because my sister--the soldier you spoke with--told me. She saw him in the camp this morning, smirking like a cat."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because you are wearing Lorcan's shirt, and Rowan Whitethorn's cloak. If you do not believe me, inform them who told you and they will." Elide cocked her head to the side.

Essar said softly, "Lorcan and I were involved for a time."

They were in the midst of war, and had traveled for thousands of miles to find their queen, and yet the tightness that coiled in Elide's gut at those words somehow found space. Lorcan's lover. This delicate beauty with a bedroom voice had been Lorcan's lover.

"I'll be missed if I'm gone for too long, but tell them who I am. Tell them that I told you. If it's Cairn they seek, that is where he shall be. His precise location, I don't know." Essar backed away a step. "Don't go asking after Cairn at other taverns. He isn't well regarded, even amongst the soldiers. And those who do follow him... You do not wish to attract their interest."

Essar made to turn away, but Elide blurted,

"Where did Maeve go?"

Essar looked over her shoulder. Studied her.

The female's eyes widened. "She has Aelin of the Wildfire," Essar breathed.

Elide said nothing, but Essar murmured, "That was... that was the power we felt the other night." Essar swept back toward Elide. Gripped her hands. "Where Maeve went a few days ago, I don't know. She did not announce it, did not take anyone with her. I often serve her, am asked to... It doesn't matter. What matters is Maeve is not here. But I do not know when she will return."

Relief again threatened to send Elide crumpling to the ground. The gods, it seemed, had not abandoned them just yet.

But if Maeve had taken Aelin to the outpost where they'd lied that the Valg prince had been contained...

Elide gripped Essar's hands, finding them warm and dry. "Does your sister know where Cairn resides in the camp?"

For long minutes, then an hour, they had talked.

Essar left and returned with Dresenda, her sister. And in that alley, they had plotted.

Elide finished telling Rowan, Lorcan, and Gavriel what she'd learned. They sat in stunned silence for a long minute.

"Just before dawn," Elide repeated. "Dresenda said the watch on the eastern camp is weakest at dawn. That she'd find a way for the guards to be occupied. It's our only window."

Rowan was staring into the trees, as if he could see the layout of the camp, as if he were plotting his way in, way out.

"She didn't confirm if Aelin was in Cairn's tent, though," Gavriel cautioned. "Maeve is gone--Aelin might be with her, too."

"It's a risk we take," Rowan said. A risk, perhaps, they should have considered.

Elide glanced to Lorcan, who had been silent throughout. Even though it had been his lover who had helped them, perhaps guided by Anneith herself. Or at least had been tipped off by the scent on Elide's clothes.

"You think we can trust her?" Elide asked Lorcan, though she knew the answer.

Lorcan's dark eyes shifted to her. "Yes, though I don't see why she'd bother."

"She's a good female, that's why," Rowan said.

At Elide's lifted brow, he explained, "Essar visited Mistward this spring. She met Aelin." He cut a glare toward Lorcan. "And asked me to tell you that she sends her best."

Elide hadn't seen anything that came close to pining in Essar's face, but gods, she was beautiful. And smart. And kind. And Lorcan had let her go, somehow.

[dandyshucks]

my brethren i am going to be home alone for four days. heaven on earth. they say life is cruel, so how come i am winning so joyously ??

it is time to CLEAN and MAKE ART ‼️‼️‼️

[todayisafridaynight]

One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad