#god if I wrote down everything that happened in this save it'd be like a whole book series 🤣🤣
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playing the sims today and continuing with my not so berry challenge and, uh, my pink gen sim lives in a bunker with her twin sister, her criminal drug addict mother (she just got clean! but things were rough after she lost her beloved husband bc he was murdered and she avenged his death by murdering his killer lol) and the ghost of her father that shows up once in a while (bleeding bc of the murder)
and I was just confused why one of the twins is painting a grave 🤣 maybe bc she's surrounded by death, duh
this whole save is so much chaos and drama, I love mods 🤣🤣
I feel like pink gen will be chill tho lol every few generations i like to have a chill and wholesome relationship 🤣
#god if I wrote down everything that happened in this save it'd be like a whole book series 🤣🤣#currently waiting for my twins to age up so i can get them out of this place 🤣#anyway who cares lol#im just laughing at how ridiculous this save has gotten 🤣#my orange gen is regularly fucking her dead husband like??? 🤣🤣🤣 she's still mourning him tho lol i caught her crying at his urn
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ᨓ ENHYPEN FINDING YOUR WRITING ACCOUNT OF THEM.



. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽.
﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen discovering your top secret. fem!r. fluff, crack maybe a bit requested. wordcount` 664. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?
𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he would be so giddy, and embarrassed and shy to find out that you write about him, boy is too flustered about the fact that you make fan content to even question anything else. it'd take a few days for him to let it all settle into his mind and then oh my god it's hell, he'll look up your account secretly even though you told him not to and then he'll keep saying random things he picked from you pieces to tease you. "my pretty doll, i will burn the world to save you"
𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so so so sooooo embarrassed like he'll forget whatever he was up to when you accidentally let it spill that your latest post of him was doing so well. he will simply ask if you write about him and when you hesitantly admit it he'll be like okay great i hope you account does well??? he loves being the one you write for but he doesn't want to embarrass you by speaking any more of it. although from time to time he will ask for some updates on how it's been going.
𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 he is so happy you don't understand the level at which he is like platinum gem rank happy. he'll immediately sit with you beg you to show him your account and let him read through the fics, even the other members' he's just so curious he can't sit still. he'll read one with like heeseung as a secret agent and then tell you he would have been a better suit for it. then he'll read a spiderman one you wrote for him and then ask you if you wanna try the upside down kiss.
𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 he stopped working, system crashed. unable to believe for days that you got a fan account about him and on top of that you write things about him. thinks he's dreaming until you speak of it again and he's like you weren't joking?? will ask you things about it like what you write and how it works, if people like his fics and what aus you write him in and why you think of him as fitting for an au. a literal question bank, will inquire about every little detail but never look it up himself.
𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he's like in disbelief but like in a happy really elated way so excited to see you account, your aesthetic, your follower count, your writing style. just about everything and he's so supportive like you go girl, he'll also most probably make an account himself and follow you. commenting on each fic and sending asks like 'guess who baby ( ◜‿◝ )' he will also look through other accounts to come up with better advice to grow you space. will save the pieces you write about him to reread.
𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 the happiest kitty in the world, will leave everything literally drop it the second you tell him you got a writing account of him whether it's accidental or intentional. ask you the username and read all of your pieces about him in one sitting. definitely will get jealous to see others you wrote for and more if you someone else has more fics than him. will immediately give you new ideas like plan out a whole plot and then tell you, it's about him and you in an alternate universe so you need to write it.
𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 he is immediately teasing you to cover up the embarrassment he feels, like an internal struggle of why should he be the one embarrassed when you are the one who write fanfiction about him. will take your phone from you open your account and read it aloud, though halfway in he'll genuinely get invested especially if it's a social media au, going 'm not like that!' every chapter and when he's caught up to the latest one, he'll bug you to reveal what happens next, after all it's his story!
taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @enhaswirlds @enhasnuggles
#enhypen imagines#k-labels#enhypen fluff#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen heeseung imagines#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jake imagines#enhypen sunghoon imagines#enhypen sunoo imagines#enhypen jungwon imagines#enhypen niki imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x you#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x reader
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let me into your world | chapter one: my world is mine
pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you
summary: you're a hopeless romantic waiting for your soulmate, but what do you do when you finally find him and he doesn't want you?
genre(s): romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?), soulmate au
word count: 7.1k
notes: for some reason, i feel SO embarrassed to post this. it was the first series i ever wrote, so it's getting a facelift before seeing the light of day, but it's still a little flabby in some places. bear with me, please! also, shoutout to evie for this layout with the lyrics in the center :') i'm tired of looking at my own uglyass posts so much omg. see ending for more notes!



your soulmate is perfect in every way, or so you've been told, and you're sick of waiting to find out. everyone says meeting your soulmate is like finding the other half you never had, so when the yearning had started when you were a teen, you were eager to find him and put an end to your constant ache. it would be impossible to know who it was until your seal appeared on your skin. where it would land and what it would look like, you weren't sure, but you knew it couldn't come fast enough. in theory, he would complement you in every way. you imagine someone quiet, a little shy, maybe. someone thoughtful, someone patient and understanding. you just hope to god he's everything you wish him to be.
-
beomgyu has had just about enough of soulmate talk, but unfortunately for him, it's inescapable. when he turned 13, the yearning had already started for most of his peers. when his friends asked if he felt similarly, he simply shrugged his shoulders with a smug little grin while musing that he might not even have a soulmate — maybe he was just partnerless. some of his friends, like taehyun and kai, were appalled by this, almost pitying him. half of his heart was missing, after all. some of his other friends, however, were a bit jealous. their reasoning was "it'd be nice to not be chained down by someone you don't even know". he agreed with the latter sentiment, having seen the effects of being chained to somebody firsthand.
he remembers watching his mother wither away. she had loved his father more than anyone, even him, and got scraps of affection in return. they weren't soulmates — her perfect other half had died not long after she met him, but his father became her second and last love. he didn't concern himself with soulmate talk and eventually married beomgyu's mother. they were happy, very happy, until beomgyu was around 10 and his father met his so-called soulmate. he remembers the sheer despair on his mother's face as she found out her husband was leaving seemingly out of nowhere, her life uprooted because of a fucking pattern imprinted on her lover's skin.
they weren't soulmates, but beomgyu watched his mother die a little every day until she finally passed. dying of a broken heart was the only way he could explain what happened to her, and she did all that for a man who wasn't even her soulmate. if soulmates could make you kill someone innocent for your love, he didn't want to find his at all. if love could make you abandon everything you've ever known, well, he simply didn't want to know what it felt like.
-
college is a turning point for you, you feel. you had a good time in high school, but you're nearing the average age of the seal and you're more than prepared to find your special someone. you couldn't know for sure, but you have a feeling none of the boys in your high school were your other half.
"why don't you date just to get some experience?" sumin asks somewhat exasperatedly. you had rejected yet another guy with seemingly good intentions for practically no reason.
"i don't know, i guess i just don't want to waste my time on anybody else when i already know my soulmate is out there waiting on me," you shrug. "i want to save all my firsts for him."
"you're hopeless, you know?" she snorts.
"yeah," you smile, "but he's probably the same way." she teases you good-naturedly for this, but even she agrees that you'll most likely fall for a guy just as hopelessly in love as you are. he wouldn't even have to try very hard — you're willing to put in however much effort it takes to find him and love him unconditionally. all he needs to do is reciprocate and you would do the rest.
-
unfortunately for you, time has passed and you're nearing the end of your time in college with no soulmate in sight. you'd be more upset about it if you weren't so fucking busy with school work and trying to line up a job post-graduation. you're so wound up lately that sumin practically forces you to let loose and go to a house party. needless to say, they aren't particularly your scene. you like to drink just as much as anybody else does, you guess, but that doesn't mean you want to reek of shitty beer, sweat, and premarital sex, which will undoubtedly be the case once you step into a college house party. still, she is as persistent as you are exhausted and you're too defeated to fight.
you're fairly bored after fifteen minutes or so of loitering around all the action, never really joining in on the antics of your friends and all the other party goers unless you absolutely have to. you're absentmindedly kicking around a beer can when it rolls away, straight in front of a couch. you go to kick it again when you look up and see him.
you can't keep your eyes off of him. you've found people attractive before, but he's probably the most beautiful person — maybe even the most beautiful thing — you've ever seen. your heart almost stops when you look at him.
in that moment, the idea that he could be the one blooms in your head and you can't help but stare. you don't how long you keep your eyes locked on him, but he eventually looks up at you and his eyes widen for a split second. you're almost positive he feels what you feel, but not even a moment later, he pulls out what you can only describe as a lascivious smirk as his eyes travel up and down your figure. you feel like meat on display rather than his sacred other half. before you know it, a girl is sliding into his lap and he's turning away from you and planting a heavy kiss on her glossy lips while groping her ass.
"that's beomgyu," sumin says and you're snapped back into reality. "he's really hot, but he's slept with pretty much every girl here."
you're somewhat disappointed before you realize you must be mistaken. there's no way a man like that could be your soulmate. you strangle the bud of hope in your heart mercilessly because your soulmate is somewhere waiting for you and you can't afford to lose him over some pretty boy with community dick.
-
you said you'd avoid him, but beomgyu is the first one you notice when you walk into the first class of your final semester as a college student. his eyes lock with yours and you hurriedly avert your gaze before sliding into the nearest seat.
"hi," a sweet voice from next to you says. you jolt and turn to look at him.
"sorry, i didn't mean to scare you," he laughs.
"it's okay, i'm just a little jumpy, i guess," you grin sheepishly.
"i'm soobin," he smiles and you can see his dimples come out. you briefly wonder if he'd mind if you poked them, but that sounds weird even to you.
you introduce yourself and find you're forgetting all about beomgyu as you and soobin begin to chat. he's funny in a dorky kind of way, and you can't help but giggle at the seemingly unassuming things he says.
-
beomgyu notices you when you first walk in because of course he does, but he sees you sit next to soobin, a guy he met in freshman year, and feels a sense of loss he's never felt before. he watches as you grin and giggle at whatever lame jokes the boy next to you is almost certainly making and his eyes darken. yeonjun, his longtime friend and desk mate, notices his sour mood and asks what's wrong. beomgyu can't really answer that question. even he himself doesn't know why he feels so against you, a stranger, spending time with another guy, but he chalks it up to the fact that he thinks you're hot and would very much like to get in your pants as soon as possible.
he supposes he should have done so when he first saw you, but duty called when one of his frequent flyers sat in his lap and he couldn't very well ignore the way her chest swayed in front of him. he doesn't think about it much more deeply than that. he doesn't want to think about how your eyes seem to indicate that you know him — have known him — and he feels the same way about you. he toys with the idea of maybe asking you if you two knew each other at some point, but deep down, he knows he'd never forget you if he actually had known you before. he tries not to think about why that is.
-
a few weeks into the semester, you've sat next to soobin every day and it's safe to say you have a tiny little crush on him, but you know he's not your soulmate when he rolls his sleeves up one day and you spot a green seal on his wrist. you roll up your own sweater, just to be sure, but there's no pretty green tattoo to match. he spots your empty wrist and the expression on his face looks an awful lot like disappointment.
"i don't really care about that stuff, you know?" he whispers as your professor drones on and on about something you've stopped listening to long ago.
"really?" you ask a little too eagerly before reining yourself back in. what are you doing? you have a soulmate and he's waiting for you.
"really, really," he smiles. you prepare to launch into a long speech about the sanctity of soulmates and how you're waiting devoutly for yours, but instead of pushing the subject any further, he simply turns to the professor again and you're left reeling.
you're pulled back to your senses when the professor announces everyone will be paired up with a partner for an assignment. you and soobin grin at each other and are ready to begin prepping for the project when your professor adds that the partners will be completely random. when he calls soobin's name, your fingers are crossed in hopes that you'll somehow still get lucky, but he ends up pairing him with another classmate named yeonjun. you start getting a sinking feeling, something akin to dread, and you don't know why. clarity overwhelms you when you register that the person your professor opts to pair you with is none other than choi beomgyu.
-
beomgyu is late to your first library appointment together and though you didn't expect anything less from him, you're still annoyed when he arrives nearly 15 minutes after the scheduled time with nothing but a mumbled "sorry" and a cheeky grin.
"it's fine," you offer, but you both know you're irritated. you're a little bit of a pushover by nature and it's like he could immediately sniff it out. he doesn't even make an attempt to seem like he cares, though.
"are you ready to get started?" you ask.
"of course, what are you waiting for?" you roll your eyes at his shamelessness, frustration melting away without you intending for it to. you're kind of shy, but his presence is so comforting, it's like you've known him for years, so you dare to say your next words without much thought.
"you, smartass." he looks a little appalled at your words but he registers it as a joke when he notices the corner of your lips struggling not to pull themselves up, eyes gazing mischievously from beneath your eyelashes. not for the first time, he thinks you're really pretty. but he, not for the first time, says nothing.
-
after a few meet ups, you realize being with beomgyu is easier than you thought it would be. sure, he's incredibly obnoxious, but he's surprisingly easy to talk to. he invites you to his apartment one day and, as if he senses your apprehension before you can even feel it yourself, he states his roommate will be there as well. you try not to read too much into it, but you have a feeling he's implying that he won't make any moves on you. you're grateful for this, but unexpectedly a bit disappointed. as for why that is, you don't venture to guess.
being in his apartment is a new feeling entirely. it feels oddly... intimate somehow when you enter his bedroom and see all of his posters, his messy bed, and some vinyls stacked up against his record player. he nonchalantly puts one on and you gasp when you recognize the song.
"i love this band," you say quickly. his eyebrows raise in interest.
"you like them too?"
"of course i do! i've loved them since i was a teenager," you laugh.
"do you like their newer stuff?"
you wrinkle your nose a little bit at this, your answer evident. he laughs his signature squeaky laugh at this and you can't help but stare in awe at his dimples, like whiskers, appearing on his cheeks. you clear your throat awkwardly and begin to talk about the project.
after a few hours and some really great progress, you find you're a little hungry. you're about to mention this, but beomgyu beats you to the punch.
"i'm starving. want pizza?" you smile when you realize you're on the exact same page.
"thought you'd never ask."
-
you're sitting on his couch now, wolfing down your third piece of pizza while beomgyu slurps the cheese off of his. he's talking about absolutely nothing, but he's still easily drawing more and more laughter out of you with his antics. you tell him to stop because you hate your laugh, but he's addicted to the sound. he wants to keep you laughing. words like "always" and "forever" briefly flicker across his mind, and usually he would force them out with conviction, but he's having such a good time hearing you giggle he can't pay attention to much else. he never says it or gives any indication he feels that way, though. he just tells you "i can't help that i'm so fucking funny and charming and beautiful." you lightly smack the back of his head and he's giggling with you.
things are going remarkably well when his roommate emerges from his room and says a few of his friends will be coming over soon. you don't particularly want to hang around them and you certainly don't want to overstay your welcome, but beomgyu, for reasons unknown, insists that you stick around.
"we can just relax for a bit then get back to work. c'mon, don't you wanna finish this thing?"
"fine, fine, fine. i'll stay." his face lights up at your words and you can't help but blush a little bit at this. why he's so excited, you have no clue. what you also don't know is he has no idea why he's so excited, either.
a few minutes later, a few guys enter the apartment boisterously and you can't help but internally regret sticking around. beomgyu, almost preternaturally, senses how uncomfortable you are and makes an effort to introduce you and include you in conversation. things are going well until one of the guys, whose name you don't know but whose face seems vaguely familiar, makes an offhanded comment.
"y'know, gyu, she's actually very smart. maybe you'll actually pass." the entire group bursts into laughter and joke about his supposed stupidity and laziness.
"he's actually very helpful. i couldn't do this without him," you counter with a little edge to your voice.
"maybe you're not deadweight after all," he says sarcastically. beomgyu just smirks and goes along with it. to the untrained eye, he seems perfectly fine, but to you, he just looks kind of sad. you pull out your phone and decide to text him.
you don't have to laugh if you don't think it's funny
he looks up at you and you nod encouragingly.
it's fine i really am kinda dumb
don't say things you don't mean. you're not their dancing monkey here to entertain them and you're not a fucking punching bag
his heart feels a little sour at this. how did you know he was hurt by their comments, no matter how seemingly harmless they were? even his own friends didn't seem to notice, but somehow, you did. you always seem to notice the little changes within him. like when he's tired and doesn't want to show it, you offer to take breaks or meet another day. or when he's stressed out so you try to wrangle even the smallest of smiles out of him — real ones, that is. he wants to say you're just a thoughtful and perceptive person, but in reality, he thinks it's a little more complicated than that.
-
it's beomgyu's birthday, which should be a happy occasion, but for some reason, you feel like shit. you wonder if it's a mix of anxiety because of the project or maybe because your time in college is coming to the end, but it feels so much more profound than that. you woke up this morning from a fitful sleep and it feels like there's a hole blown through your heart. if you feel like shit, you don't look much better, but you have to meet with beomgyu at his apartment and you can't be late.
"whoa, you look absolutely awful," he muses when he opens the door and sees you with two appalling dark circles under your eyes.
"wow, thanks, asshole," you mumble. you did, indeed, look and feel like utter shit, but being here seems to bring a sense of relief you did not anticipate.
"hey, i'm just kidding, you look pretty," he laughs. he's been saying things like this, lately. you can't deny the way your heart skips a beat, but you shoot down any further thoughts because you know, know, know he sleeps around and you know that seemingly off-the-cuff comments like this are probably part of the reason why he's able to do so as easily as he does. you're not to be trifled with, though, so instead of letting the comment fly off your back as you usually would, your mouth opens before you know it.
"not as pretty as you, beoms," you smirk. you don't know exactly what you expected, but his ears turning a rosy pink isn't it.
"o-okay," he says sheepishly, clearing his throat. you find him criminally endearing in this moment, and for once, you don't mentally slap yourself for it.
"oh yeah. happy birthday!" you say, pulling out a cupcake and decisively putting an end to the awkwardness.
"thanks," he says with a smile before eyeing you suspiciously. "is this poisoned?"
"give it back," you say monotonously and he giggles when you try to snatch it away from him.
"hey, i'm just kidding! thank you!" he says as he takes a bite and his eyes widen in surprise.
"mmm, how'd you know this flavor's my favorite?"
"i dunno, i didn't. i just kinda figured you'd like it," you shrug. you walk towards his coffee table, which is where you all have been working lately, and again he's plagued with the idea that you know him far more deeply than you should.
working with beomgyu usually goes smoothly, but you're exhausted. you're still incredibly sad for no reason, but being with him makes you feel less... empty? you would try to put a name to the feeling, but you're too tired to do so at the moment.
"want some coffee?" he asks as he watches you yawn for the umpteenth time since you've been here.
"please," you say sleepily. he smiles and gets up from the floor as you bury your head in your hands.
beomgyu has been in a relatively good mood since you've been here, and not just because it's his birthday. he can't explain why, but his mouth has pretty much been etched into a curve ever since you got here. he catches a glimpse of his smiling face in the mirror of his living room before opting to fix his hair a little, mindful of how he looks in front of you. when he does this, he feels a rough patch of skin behind his right ear. he's confused when he runs his fingers over it and feels grooves and lines where there shouldn't be.
he quickly pulls out his phone and takes a picture. what he sees horrifies him. a seal. it's pink and delicate, but has a complicated pattern he couldn't even begin to replicate. the day he's been dreading for years has finally come. he stares at the picture before shaking his head and ruffling his hair to cover it again. no. this changes nothing. he won't let this ruin his day — his life.
he moves to the kitchen and begins to prepare your coffee. when he reenters the living room, he hears you lightly snoring with your head resting on the coffee table. he smiles in spite of himself and places the coffee down. he wants to say you look peaceful, but your eyebrows are furrowed like there's something you can't quite figure out.
he chuckles softly to himself before subconsciously pushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear. that's when he sees it. pink like a blooming flower and as complicated in its pattern as the one on his head. he hurriedly pulls his phone out and compares the picture of his seal to the one behind your ear. he already knows, but he has to be completely sure. he's not surprised in the slightest when he comes to the conclusion that they are, indeed, the same.
-
when you awaken, you feel a pit in your stomach and you're genuinely on the verge of tears. someone would think you'd had a nightmare, but you hadn't. you're stuck in a whirlwind of emotions when you're snapped away from them by a soft baritone voice.
"you awake?" beomgyu asks.
"shit, i'm sorry!" you exclaim, wiping the drool off of your face and straightening up your hair. "how long has it been?"
"i dunno, an hour or two?" he says nonchalantly. you sense some resentment in his tone and you feel beyond apologetic.
"god, i'm so sorry. let's just finish this really quick and i'll get going. i'm sure you want to be done with this and celebrate your birthday," you say embarrassedly.
"i already finished it," he says, and even through your sleepiness, you feel his disdain.
"you... finished it? alone?"
"why? do you think i'm not capable of doing it by myself?"
"no! not at all! i just feel bad that you had to do it alone," you exclaim.
"well, it's done. so you can leave now," he says, not without urgency.
"leave? but i —" but what? but i wanted to spend more time with you? that doesn't sound right, but that's what you feel.
"you can leave now," he repeats with disgust that you can't quite understand.
"o-okay. i'll get my stuff and go, but shouldn't we review everything together just in case?"
"i have plans, so no," he says firmly. you have no idea why he's so angry. you want to say it's because he had to finish the project alone while you were knocked out and drooling on his coffee table, but it feels much deeper than that.
"thanks for finishing everything. again, i'm so sorry," you say as you gather your things and head for the door. beomgyu is ready to shut the door behind you when you look back to him and softly say "happy birthday, beoms." and the door slams shut.
-
when you get home, the first thing you do is cry. the pain in your heart is suffocating. you so badly want to know what it is that's causing this seemingly out of nowhere pain, but you can't put your finger on it to save your life. you decide to shower and have another good cry. after you shower, you look in the mirror as you twist your hair up in a towel. your fingertips rub against a rough patch behind your ear when you do so and you're stunned before you register what it is. you take a picture to get a better look at it, but you already kinda know what to expect: a seal.
it's more beautiful than you imagined it'd be, but instead of joy, all you feel is dread. but why? a seal is a happy thing. you should feel relieved to finally have it on you and he should, too. you ponder over this and come to the conclusion that it's not your pain you're feeling, but your soulmate's. you've heard about soulmates feeling each other's emotions before, though it was somewhat rare. the question is: why is he so sad? you don't know how, but you instinctively know it has to do with the seal appearing and it makes you drop to the bathroom floor in tears. this isn't how you wanted it to be. you clutch your chest, willing your heart to stop pounding so hard, but it doesn't.
-
beomgyu has been avoiding you, that much is clear. as to why that is, you have no idea. he used to greet you and strike up conversation, project be damned. you want to think about this more, but the depression you feel makes it hard to think clearly about, well, anything, really. you feel an emptiness you've never known before, and you can't help but feel like being with him would make it better. in a way, you're glad he finished the project alone because you're sure you wouldn't have been able to be much help at all.
when you walk into the class you share, his absence puts you at a loss you don't understand. you remember that soobin is yeonjun's partner and ask him if he knows anything about beomgyu's whereabouts. he shakes his head.
"i don't know the details, but yeonjun said he's been bummed ever since he got his seal." ever since he got his seal? that means he must have gotten it recently, just like you. the cogs in your brain start to turn and you feel the dread in your stomach again.
"why?” you ask tentatively.
"i dunno. i think he might not like his soulmate, but he won't talk about it any more than that," he shrugs. "hey, are you okay?"
you nod before touching the seal behind your ear. you feel another pang in your heart. what if... what if he has the same seal? what if... beomgyu is your soulmate?
-
after class, you practically sprint out of the room and to beomgyu's apartment. you pound on his door impatiently and when he doesn't answer, you pound even louder.
"what are you doing here?" he hisses when he swings the door open. you flinch a little, but you're determined to get some answers. you falter when you notice a girl, haphazardly dressed, appearing from behind him.
"who's this, beomie?" she says, voice silky smooth.
"kick rocks," he says simply. she shrugs and makes her way past you while fiddling with her clothes. you don't have to guess what they just got finished doing, and it hurts, hurts, hurts.
"who's that?" you say, eyes glassy.
"what are you doing here?" he asks again, actually a little embarrassed, but never showing an ounce of it. you storm into his apartment and he shuts the door behind you.
"show me your seal," you say determinedly.
"what? no," he answers defensively.
you reach for his long hair to lightly tuck it behind his pierced ears. he wants to stop you, but he can't bear the thought of batting away your hand. he hears you inhale a sharp breath as you see the pink seal behind his ear and he feels his chest becoming heavier and heavier.
"how long have you known?"
"since my birthday," he answers after a slight pause.
"and when were you gonna tell me?"
"probably never," he says truthfully. your hand drops to your side and he subconsciously misses the way your touch felt.
"why?"
"because... because i don't want a soulmate."
"what's so bad about me?" you ask as your lips tremble.
"it's not just you," he sighs. "i've never wanted a soulmate."
"then what's so bad about soulmates?"
"i just don't want one and you can't make me," he snaps and you wince, so he tries again. "look, you're a nice girl and everything, but it's never gonna happen between us, so you need to stop trying."
"even without the seal, i'd still have feelings for you. that's how much you mean to me." he looks a little taken aback by this, as if he never expected to hear those words from you or anyone, really, and it makes your heart ache. "can't you just give me a chance?" you look so earnest right now, but he's almost sadistically dedicated to squashing the sprout of hope that is almost certainly peeking out of you right now.
"no, i can't. you're not my type at all. if we weren't soulmates i'd never even look at you." he's lying but if he's not cruel now, he knows you'll never let go.
"but we are soulmates and you are looking at me right now."
"for god's sake, you're not hearing what i'm saying. i will never love you, alright? i tried to be nice about it but you keep pushing me. you look fucking pathetic right now."
your frown deepens, eyes reddened and hot. as a last ditch effort, you hurriedly say your next words.
"i can feel your pain," you whisper and his eyes widen. "i know you feel it every day. i know you're empty and you need somebody — why can't i be that person? i-i'll be whatever you need me to be." you've taken your heart and served it on a silver platter. all he has to do is hold it.
"because you're not what i need! you're not even what i want!"
the silence that follows will haunt him for the rest of his life. you look so small right now, so fragile. he almost wants to take everything back, but he remembers what soulmates mean and what they can do to a person. he looks at how vulnerable you are, how your heart is bleeding in front of him and how easily he can and will break it. he never wants to give anyone that power over him. no fucking way.
"i can feel your pain," you try again, and before he can reply you continue. "can you at least feel mine?" you look absolutely devastated with your eyebrows furrowed pleadingly, sobs racking your body. you look like you're going to be sick.
"i can't and i don't wanna," he answers flippantly with a shrug and a lopsided smile. "that's how much you mean to me." he knows exactly what to say and how to say it, the way only somebody who really knows you ever can. it's the final nail in the coffin for you. you will lock your heart for him in it and bury it as deep as it'll go.
"i've been waiting for you, you know? always. always." your eyes trail down to his hastily thrown on shirt and hickeys adorning his neck. at this, his jaw clenches and his eyes actually close in shame. you're not sure where your pain ends and his begins, but for the first time, you don't really care. a burning rage fills your heart and your dignity demands to be taken seriously for the first time. you're a doormat, sure, but you won't be anymore. not for him, anyway.
"i don't want to see you anymore. don't you ever fucking talk to me again," you finish and with a spin on your heel you're sprinting towards the door.
-
you are true to your word. when you walk into class after the entire debacle, you don't even spare him a glance. even if you can feel his gaze on you, you remain perfectly unfazed. he asked for this, he thinks. it's the way it should be. still, nothing really consoles him when he sees how tired you look. he can't feel your pain, but he can very well see it, and he wishes he could take it away. he regrets what he said to you, but he knows you'd never give up if he had given you even a sliver of a way out.
you're a good girl, though. a lot of people will come your way if you'll just let them. he feels a pang in his chest when he thinks about what they'll be like. he doesn't like to imagine it very much, but his thoughts wander that way more than he'd like to admit. he can't fathom anyone being good enough for you, really. especially not him.
do you feel the way he hates himself for the way he has to treat you? he doesn't know for sure, but he's pretty convinced when he sees you put your head in your hands, shoulders shaking. soobin quietly asks if you're alright before you bolt out of the room.
-
it's an end of the year house party thrown by soobin's new friend and former project partner, yeonjun. you truly, honest to god, do not want to go, but sumin really wants you to and you feel guilty because you're unsure when you'll see her again after graduation.
you sit almost catatonically as she does your hair and makeup, dressing you as if you're some kind of doll. when she's finished playing dress-up, you have to give credit where it's due. you look like a new person, but you can still feel the rotten old you underneath the shiny veneer, and it doesn't feel very good at all.
you're sitting in a circle, passing a blunt around when someone mentions him. it's innocuous enough, but you still flinch when you hear it. they joke about how he's probably upstairs getting his dick wet with some exchange student who's only here for a semester. you don't think that's true, if only because you can feel the pull and it feels so fucking lonely and isolated there can't possibly be anyone else around him, but it still hurts to hear all the same.
sumin gets blackout drunk fairly quickly, which is nothing new. what is new, however, is how you match her shot for shot and chug for chug. you know in your head that you should stop, but your heart keeps telling you to drown it, drown it, drown it until you can't feel the pull anymore. so you do.
-
"my god, you're drunk!" yeonjun exclaims when you're literally about to fall over and bust your head open.
"i'm not drunk, you're drunk!" you hiccup. he almost laughs before he sees you grip your stomach and gag. he thinks it's the alcohol, but in reality, you feel the loneliness beomgyu felt dissipating and you can only imagine what he's doing to cope. fuck, you didn't want to feel this.
"c'mon, girl. don't throw up here. let's go to the bathroom." he leads you up the stairs into some shitty bathroom that doesn't even have toilet paper. you kneel in front of the toilet and let yourself go, tears marring your carefully crafted makeup.
yeonjun gently grabs your loose hair and twists it into a makeshift ponytail. when he sweeps the last few strands from behind your ears, he sees it. all pretty and pink, ornate but unassuming. the seal you share with beomgyu.
"oh fuck," he says simply. you're drunk, too drunk, but even you know what he means.
"don't... don't look at it," you hiccup as a fresh wave of tears stream down your cheeks. "i want it gone," you whine, futilely scraping at it with your fingernails. in your head, you know it won't do anything. seals are permanent and even a tattoo couldn't cover it — it'd just resurface. in your aching heart, though, the thought of having beomgyu's matching seal makes you sick and you're willing to do almost anything to get it off of you.
"what the fuck is going on here?" a voice you'd recognize from anywhere emerges from the bathroom doorway. soobin. "what happened to you?!"
he's kneeling down to your level and wiping the mascara from under your eyes. yeonjun is still holding your hair back, so it's only a matter of time before the seal catches soobin's eye. it takes him a second to place where exactly he's seen it before, but once he does he murmurs a simple "oh shit."
you'd laugh at the similar reactions from the two boys if you felt anything other than misery at the moment. soobin grabs a rag from god knows where and wets it to tenderly brush around your lips. yeonjun tactfully lets go of your hair and escapes from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. you sit in silence.
"you know, this is a really bad time," he begins awkwardly, "but i want to remind you that the seal stuff doesn't matter to me. i know it matters to you right now, and that's okay, but it doesn't have to be that way forever." it takes you a minute to really process what he's saying and understand the implication behind his words. once you finally do, you're shocked to say the very least.
"do you still like me when i'm like this?" you say, mouth agape, tongue still heavy from the vomit.
"i do," he replies simply.
"really?"
"really, really."
-
beomgyu knew you felt his pain as soon as you said it, but he didn't know to what extent until he hears you sobbing in the bathroom. the walls are paper thin and you're not exactly quiet, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't straining his ears to ensure he's catching every word. and catch every word he does — even the ones you exchange with soobin — the ones that pierce his heart, and yours, apparently, because you wail when you feel it.
-
being with soobin is simultaneously the hardest and the easiest thing you've ever done. he starts off slowly, as if he's afraid to break you even more than you're already broken. he's patient with you even when you're sad about a certain somebody, and never makes you feel guilty for it.
when you're bawling your eyes out one night and cancel your plans with him, you're surprised to hear a knock on your apartment door, anyway. you look through the peephole and see a familiar figure with a smile on his face. you hurriedly wipe the mascara from under your eyes and pull your hood up to cover your fucked up hair.
"what are you doing here?" you ask once you open the door.
"i was just in the neighborhood and thought you might want some ice cream," he says simply.
you snort. the "neighborhood" in question is a good 20 minutes from his apartment, but you don't ask any questions for fear that he might actually leave.
and so you sit on the living room floor with a movie playing in the background as white noise. you forgo the formalities and both of you are digging into a, frankly, alarmingly large tub of ice cream with nothing but two spoons. he pokes your reddened nose when you eventually start to drift off into space and remember your soulmate doesn't want you. he doesn't ask any questions, either. just boops your nose and you're back to reality and giggling at his childishness.
being with soobin is so easy, so comforting, that when he eventually asks you to be his girlfriend, you say yes.
-
on graduation day, beomgyu feels an excitement he sincerely did not anticipate. sure, he was happy to graduate, but he had no idea he'd be fucking elated. he has no clue why he's so ridiculously excited when he's honestly not even sure what he'll do after college, but when your name is called to collect your diploma and his heart is racing so fast he feels like it might explode, beomgyu comes to a damning realization: it's not his happiness he's feeling... it's yours.
the revelation is fully enforced when he sees you leaving the stage and hugging soobin. he feels your heart skipping a beat when he watches your fingers lacing with the other man's. he can't quite understand it, but the contentment you feel juxtaposes the sadness brewing inside of him. the sense that something is missing feels more palpable than ever. you walk off with soobin, swinging your interlocked hands while he gently brushes his thumb against your fingers. you don't look beomgyu's way even once, and his eyes start to burn when he realizes that image will forever be seared into his head. he has nobody to blame but himself.
-
beomgyu can feel your joy now and it makes him sick. he feels the butterflies in your stomach as you slow dance with soobin. feels your first kiss and the thrums of electricity permeating from your lips to your toes. he even feels your excitement before soobin makes love to you for the first time and the pure bliss that comes after. he feels it all and it's enough to make his stomach churn. he wonders if you can still feel his pain, and on some level, he hopes you do. maybe he's selfish, but it would serve as another reminder that he's bound to you and you to him. it doesn't feel like you can, though. how could you be so happy if you felt even a fraction of the weight on his chest? he's drowning every day and you're out playing first comes love then comes marriage with soobin. he's currently looking at your instagram from a burner account (you blocked him on his main) and he's trying to keep his pain tucked carefully behind his ribs, where his heart is, but it's constantly threatening to overcome him. you look different — not bad — just different. you're glowing now, it seems, and your hair is always down. he has a guess as to why that might be, and it pains him to think about it. this must be the yearning everyone, including you, had felt. he supposes he should be happy that you're happy, but he's never claimed to be a good person, and the sight of a picture of you planting a kiss on soobin's cheek is enough to twist the knife in his chest.
notes pt. 2: hi :,) i hope you all liked this one. if not, i'm sorry :,) my pacing is sooo bad but i'm working on it i swear ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ ) feedback is always appreciated!! and yes, there will be a part 2.
#niningtori#let me into your world#txt angst#beomgyu angst#beomgyu#txt beomgyu#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu x you#beomgyu fic#soobin#txt soobin#soobin x reader#soobin x you#soobin fic#txt#txt fic#tomorrow x together#toxic!beomgyu#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt headcanons#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu scenarios#beomgyu headcanons#soobin imagined#soobin scenarios#soobin headcanons
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Summary: After the incident things were looking pretty bleak, but the one thing you thought would make everything worse ended up saving you.
Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 7.8k
Warnings: Language, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of guns and gun violence
Author’s Note: So I wrote a one shot because I cannot, for the life of me, stick to a consistent writing schedule. Enjoy!
---
You never expected anyone to feel sorry for you. That had been a pretty consistent theme throughout your life, why would anyone feel sorry for the kid who got everything they asked for? Granted, the only things in your past that might have sparked an ounce of pity were trivial, like a broken ankle or a bad break up, but even after this mess you never expected much.
It'd been a few months now since it happened, either two or three, you weren't sure exactly- enough time for seemingly everyone you'd ever met to show up and implore you to tell the story over and over again. One or two of them did appear genuinely concerned but you couldn't shake the feeling that most of them just wanted the gossip, desperate for anything to make them the most interesting person in the room at their next garden party or champagne brunch or ambassador's reception. Every single painful, repetitive, disingenuous conversation you had to sit through served as a further reminder of why you’d left this life behind as soon as you had the chance. Now you were stuck back here for god knows how much longer, and everything just felt bleak.
A soft knock rapped against your bedroom door. You didn't bother answering, they'd just let themselves in, they always did. The knob turned and the door creaked open, your father's timid face peering in.
“Are you busy?” It was nice of him to ask, but it was also unnecessary, because you hadn’t left your couch to do anything other than pee in weeks. “Your aunt Carol is here. She brought you some gifts, I thought it might make you feel better.”
Both of you knew very well that it would have the opposite effect, the only thing you'd ever resented your mother for was bringing that vapid bitch into your life. Well, that and accidentally letting slip that the tooth fairy wasn’t real on your third birthday.
Carol careered round the door and past your father in her typical pantomime dame dress and makeup. You smirked, thinking to yourself that, in dimmer light and with some sinister music, it would've made an excellent scene for a horror film. Ever since your mother passed she’d been sniffing around the house more and more, you were convinced she was trying to seduce your dad to get his money but you couldn't prove it. Thankfully, he had enough sense to stay the hell away from her.
“Oh, look at you, you poor thing. You look awful.” She clunked the wrapped box and card she was holding down on the table and joined you on the couch, her offensive perfume making your nose begin to itch. “Come on, auntie Carol is here for you now, tell me everything darling.”
You gave your father, who was standing by the door looking very apologetic, a harsh glare.
“There's not much to tell. Dad was mid-speech when some guy in the audience stood up, next thing I knew he was getting tackled and there was a loud bang. I look down and I'm bleeding.”
“Oh my, who was he?”
“Just some crazy, nationalist, militia guy targeting politicians, apparently. They have no idea if he was alone or with a group so it’s safer for me to stay here for now. My apartment is too much of a risk.”
“Bless you. It's so difficult being in the public eye, but you are so brave.” She pointed down to your stomach, “and don't worry, I've got some magic serum that'll clear up any unsightly scars ready for bikini season. I'll send you my diet plan, too.”
You turned the dial up on the daggers you were shooting your father every time she looked away, and he finally took the hint.
“Okay, Carol. We should let her rest now.”
“Alright, love you so much baby. Look after yourself, okay? Maybe run a comb through your hair or something. Very frizzy.”
You rolled your eyes at her back as she left and reached over to grab the card. There was a sad puppy on the front, sitting beneath the words sorry you’re having a hard time. You figured that Hallmark probably didn't stock a sorry you got shot by a psychopath card.
Your father was lingering. He never lingered.
“Everything okay, dad?”
“Yes. Although, there is something I need to tell you.”
“Go on.”
“I've hired someone.”
“Right.”
“For you,” he noted your confusion, “to protect you.”
“A bodyguard?”
“No, he's not a bodyguard.” You raised an eyebrow. “He's not just a bodyguard.”
“The hell does that mean?”
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Wiping the sweat from his palms onto his trousers, he strode over and took a seat beside you, preparing himself with a deep breath. This was serious.
“The last time you saw Dr Burke she recommended that we… don't leave you on your own too much. So, he's going to be looking out for your welfare, going to be spending time with you.”
“Ah, I see. Suicide watch. Great.”
“I’m worried about you. You barely eat, you don't move from that spot, you haven’t showered for weeks. I know you miss being in your own place but,” he put his hand on top of yours, “I’ve already lost your mother, I can’t lose you too.”
Well, that hit you like a punch in the gut.
“Okay, dad. If you think it’ll help.”
“I do.” He stood up, giving you a light kiss on the top of your head before turning to leave. “He’ll be here in a few hours.”
---
You were woken from a light sleep by another knock on the door. The only thing you hadn’t been struggling with recently was sleep, it was the only way you could make your days pass quicker.
Again, the door creaked open before you answered. Your dad stepped in followed by a man you assumed to be your new long-term babysitter. You’d expected someone more stern looking, someone dressed like an extra from Men in Black, but he just looked like a normal guy. He had a strong face, broad shoulders and deep brown hair. If you’d been in a different state of mind you might even have considered him attractive, but you were far too tired for anything like that.
“Sweetheart, this is-” Your father looked blankly over to his companion, obviously already having forgotten his name.
“James. Nice to meet you.”
You mustered a faint smile. There was a brief, awkward silence as your father’s eyes flicked from you back to the composed looking guest, whose huge arms were folded over his chest.
“Well, uh- I have a call in a few minutes. I suppose I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” he clapped a hand on James’ back, “just let me know if you need anything.”
Then, just like that, you were alone with a complete stranger. Your eyes stayed firmly fixed to the movie you’d slept through half of but were suddenly incredibly interested in. You heard James shuffle forwards, his broad frame eventually scooching into the edge of your vision.
“Look, I get it. You’re a grown-ass adult, I wouldn’t like having some stranger keeping an eye on me all the time either. If you want, I can just stick to the corner, stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here.”
That actually sounded like a pretty sweet deal, but you’d feel incredibly guilty having him perched on the other side of the room like a piece of furniture. The least you could do was be a little friendly.
“That’s alright, you can have the comfy seat,” you faintly motioned your head towards the nearby armchair, “but I’ll be shitty company.”
He happily settled himself in. “Makes no odds to me, I’m getting paid to be here.”
A short breathy chuckle escaped your lips, taking you by surprise. It’d been a long while since someone had made you laugh, all the conversations you’d had in the past few weeks had been unbelievably morbid and condescending, most of them with people you had no interest in talking to in the first place.
A couple of silent hours passed. You‘d gotten so used to being alone that you kept forgetting he was there, the odd cough or movement making you jump out of your skin. Eventually, Elaine pounded on the door and announced that she’d brought dinner up for both of you, so James jumped up and helped her with the cart.
Elaine was your father’s housekeeper and the only thing that had prevented him dying of starvation or exposure since your mom died. She was kind and patient, you liked her alot. Her food was always incredible, you felt awful for barely eating it over the last few weeks but the pain from your stomach wound combined with zero expenditure of energy had just killed your appetite.
James looked from his plate over to yours, his knife and fork poised. “You not eating?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“When’s the last time you ate anything?”
Someone had been talking to dad.
You shrugged. “This morning, I think.”
“Bullshit.” Your eyes snapped in his direction. “You know you’re not gonna get any better if you don’t eat, right? You’ll just have to put up with me bugging you for even longer.”
“Thought you were gonna stay out my way?”
“Mostly.” His mouth curled into a faint smile. “How about this, you eat a couple bites, I’ll eat the rest and we’ll tell your dad you ate the whole thing.”
You considered for a second. Not a bad offer, getting your dad off your back for a while would be pretty great. You knew what game he was playing but you were more than willing to play too just as long as the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.
“Deal.”
You expended a tremendous amount of effort leaning yourself forward and grabbing the plate, feeling James’ gaze tunnelling into the side of your face as the two of you began to eat. You had to admit, you enjoyed the food much more than you’d expected, half the plate had gone before you felt full. James looked pretty smug while finishing off the rest of it.
The sky outside slowly turned dark and you could feel yourself getting sleepy, so you settled deeper into the couch for your third sleep of the day.
“Hey,” James leant forward in his seat, “you need help getting to your bed or anything?”
“Oh, no, I’m good. I usually just sleep here.”
He gave you a puzzled look. “There? Is that comfortable? Can’t be good for your back.”
“Probably isn’t, but I don’t have the energy to move.”
“You don’t need the energy,” he sprung up from his seat, “you’ve got me.”
Before you could comprehend what was happening, James had an arm anchored around your upper back and was inching you upwards, away from the safety of your sad-zone and onto your feet. A few mild pangs of pain shot through your stomach but it wasn’t enough to make you fight back, so you just gave in, relaxed into his grip and let him walk you across the room.
Your mattress was unbelievably comfortable and you felt knot after knot untying in your back as you stretched out flat, but you didn’t need to tell him that. Who was this magical asshole, anyway, showing up and suddenly knowing what would help you better than you did?
“I’m just gonna crash on that armchair, if that’s all good with you.”
“There?” You carefully rolled onto your side so you were facing away from him. “Can’t be good for your back.”
A deep chuckle came from behind you. “Smartass. Shout me if you need to go to the bathroom or anything.”
You just grunted, already half asleep. It was only another minute or so before you drifted off peacefully and got the best night of rest you’d had in weeks.
Maybe this babysitting thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.
---
You woke to the sound of soft snoring on the other side of the room. Light was bleeding in around the curtains and you could hear footsteps in the corridor, probably your father heading downstairs for his coffee and newspaper. Coming to your senses, you rolled over and suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pee. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked over to see James’ limp hand hanging over the edge of the armchair.
You didn’t need him, you could do this.
Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and hoisting yourself up was easier than expected but that, unfortunately, made you a little overconfident for the rest of the journey. After a couple of steps the pain started. You felt pathetic but that amount of effort had actually winded you, all you could do was lower yourself to the ground to catch your breath.
“What the hell are you doing?”
You didn’t even realise he’d woken up, you were too busy wheezing.
“Gotta pee.” You managed to push your words out between gulped in breaths.
“What did I say last night, huh? You should’a yelled.” He lowered himself beside you, placing one arm around your back and one under your knees. “Alright, brace yourself.”
“Wait, what are you-”
You choked on your words when he lifted you clean off the floor, a feat that not many had accomplished in the past. He offered to take you as far as the toilet itself but you adamantly refused, determined to cling onto your last shred of dignity while just about managing to shuffle over there, supporting yourself on the sink.
You washed your hands and intentionally avoided looking in the mirror, moving straight over to the door and finding your minder stood directly outside.
He folded his arms. “While you’re here, why not take a quick shower?”
“I’m not supposed to get my dressings wet.”
“Again, nice try, but you really gotta do better than that to bullshit me.”
You let out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let me rot away in peace?”
“I mean, I could, but I’m pretty sure your dad would refuse to pay me.”
“I’ll pay you to leave me alone.”
“You can’t afford me, honey.” He smirked and slipped past you. “I’ll get the water going.”
James turned the shower on and put some folded towels by the sink before heading back into your room and gathering some clean pyjamas. You just stayed where you were, leaning against the counter, as he buzzed around like an overexcited child.
“You’re all set. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
“Thank you, supernanny.”
He flipped you the bird. You laughed and locked the door.
Slowly, carefully, you got undressed, removed your bandages and placed them in the bin. You then had to perch yourself down on the closed toilet seat for a brief break before climbing into the shower. Standing under the water, you looked down at your wound for the first time in weeks, finding yourself amazed at how quickly it had healed. You ran your fingers over it. Never in a million years did you think you’d have a healed gunshot wound anywhere on your body. You thought back to what your aunt said, maybe it was unsightly, it certainly looked weird from this ang-
“You alright?”
James’ overbearing voice snapped you out of your train of thought.
“Yes.”
You turned off the shower and stepped out, lifting a towel to your face and savouring the feeling of finally being clean again. You couldn’t imagine how bad you must’ve smelled before. You pulled on the fresh pyjamas before taking a deep breath and wiping down the mirror, getting a nasty shock when you saw yourself. It looked like all the life had been drained out of you. Your face looked pallid, red eyes sitting above deep, dark bags while skin flaked from your chapped lips. Your hair was still dripping wet but you could tell that weeks of neglect had taken a toll on it.
It seemed like James might’ve come along just in time, any longer sitting in that misery pit and these changes might’ve become irreversible.
“Still all good?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, just trying to remember the most efficient way to cut wrists. Is it horizontal or vertical?”
Throwing your towel in the laundry basket, you opened the door to see a very unamused looking man.
“Real funny.”
He didn’t get a chance to properly scold you before Elaine knocked on the door with breakfast, a smug grin settling on your face as it dawned on him that he probably shouldn’t cuss you out in front of your father’s closest confidante.
The two of you settled into your designated spots. James immediately started digging into the plate that had been piled high for him but you held off, it had been a while since you stood up for that long and you needed to recover. Sharp pangs of stomach pain weren’t exactly the perfect accompaniment to a hearty appetite.
James placed his fork down on the table and leaned back in his chair, mouth full of food. “We gotta do this again, buttercup?”
“I just need a minute.”
“I thought we had a deal.”
“We did,” a bolt of inspiration struck as you realised it was your turn to get a little something interesting out of this relationship, “but I want to change it up a bit.”
“Alright, go on.”
“I’ll eat if you tell me the most insane thing that’s happened to you while bodyguarding.”
“I really shouldn’t talk about that.”
“Shame,” you dramatically pushed your plate away with a flourish, “I was actually feeling pretty hungry.”
He considered, glaring at you from beneath an arched eyebrow and rhythmically tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Fine, but you gotta finish the whole plate.”
“The whole plate.”
“Alright.”
He leant forward again and carried on eating so you followed suit, forcing down one small bite at a time and just hoping that his story would be worth the pain.
“So, one time some rich dude hired me ‘cause his daughter was worried she had a stalker. Apparently she kept seeing someone in a black hoodie following her around, she even saw ‘em standing on their lawn a few times. Thing is, no-one else had ever seen it. I think half the reason I was hired was to figure out if she was just going crazy.”
“Was she?”
“Be patient, pumpkin. You’ll find out.” Your cheeks flushed a little when he called you that. “A couple weeks passed and I hadn’t seen anything. Then, middle of the night, everyone else was asleep and I was doing my rounds. I looked out the window to the yard and there was someone standing underneath her window in a black hoodie.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit. So, obviously, I sprinted down there, but they spotted me and started running. They vaulted the fence and I would’a lost ‘em in the trees but they got snagged on the other side. I grabbed ‘em, pulled down the hood and-” He eyed the huge fork-full of food you were hovering by your mouth, “you wanna eat that?”
You rolled your eyes, shoved it all in your face and let out a muffled plea. “And?”
“It was her, the daughter.”
“Fuck off.”
“Dead serious. Turns out one of her friends had a stalker and was getting a load of sympathy and attention because of it, so she got jealous and made up one of her own. She figured if I saw it just once everyone would believe her.”
“That’s so fucked. Is that even legal?”
“No idea, not my job. I got my paycheck and left the next morning.”
“Nice to know you really care about your clients.”
He laughed. “Most of my clients are spoiled assholes who never even bother to learn my name.”
“Really? Can’t be hard to learn a name as simple as Justin.” You received your second unamused scowl of the day. “Anyway, we spoiled brats have enough on our plate without having to learn the name of the person willing to take a bullet for us.”
“Nah, you’re not spoiled.”
“You think?”
“Trust me, I’ve seen spoiled. You’re not spoiled. I think you’re the only client I’ve actually enjoyed talking to.”
Interesting. Probably shouldn’t delve into that statement too deeply.
“I’d take that as a compliment but it sounds like there isn’t much competition.”
He smirked, staying silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “My friends call me Bucky, by the way. I prefer it to James. And I really prefer it to Justin.”
“If you insist,” you shrugged, “but I still think you’d make a good Timberlake.”
---
You managed to stomach a good amount of food that day and you even had a good stab at breakfast when the next day rolled around, so you hoped that Bucky might leave you to your own devices for a while now he’d got his own way.
He did not.
As soon as you’d swallowed the last mouthful of toast he announced that he was going to take you on a walk around the garden.
You looked from him to your stomach, then back at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We’ll take it slow, one step at a time, and it’ll make you feel better. I promise.”
“Can’t we just open a window?”
“Nope.” He slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair and jumped to his feet. “C’mon sweetheart, you know I’m just gonna annoy the hell out of you until you agree.”
“Is threatening me allowed in your contract?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s persuasion with consequences.”
You eventually relented. He was super keen to get going but it soon became clear that he’d overestimated how far along the healing process you were, it took the two of you almost an hour just to get out of your bedroom and down the stairs with all the constant stopping for breath. Bucky went ahead and pulled open the sliding glass door, your mood instantly lifting when the first breeze of fresh air washed over you. You were starting to hate how often he was right.
He offered you his arm and set a bench on the other side of the lawn as your goal. The neatly mowed grass felt soft between your toes, the faint sounds of birds and planes overhead helping you relax a great deal more than the constant background noise from the TV you’d kept switched on for weeks now. When you reached your goal, Bucky helped you lower yourself onto the seat and carefully squeezed himself beside you once you were settled. Sitting this close to him felt strange, you were used to him being confined to his armchair, and the bench was a pretty small one. His thigh was pressed up against yours. You tried not to think about it.
Deeply inhaling the smell of grass and flowers into your lungs made you feel like a new person but it was also making you a little drowsy, the journey down had zapped all your energy and the warmth from the morning sun was cosy and soothing.
The next thing you remembered was your head being gently nudged, prompting your eyes to flicker open.
“Sorry, princess. I’d let you sleep for hours but I really need to pee.”
You came to your senses and felt the crook of Bucky’s neck against the top of your head. His arm was around you, hand gently resting on your shoulder.
“Shit, sorry.” In your embarrassment you sat up a little too quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through your stomach.
“You alright?”
“Oh, yeah. Just, y’know, the ol’ bullet would.” You laughed off his concern and waved him away. “Go pee.”
“Alright, I’ll just be a minute, don’t move.”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”
He was already sprinting across the lawn when he shouted back. “That’s the spirit, sunshine.”
You shot a giddy grin at the back of his head. It still felt like morning but you had no idea how long you’d been knocked out for, you just knew you could very easily spend every night resting in Bucky’s neck like that.
---
Your shadow had been with you for about a week now and, contrary to all initial expectations, you’d actually been enjoying his company. He could be annoying as hell with his constant demands pushing you further and further when all you wanted to do was melt into the couch, but you could see that he was good for you. You supposed that being forced to spend every second of every day with someone gave you no choice but to recognize their good qualities. Thankfully, he seemed to have a lot of those.
Elaine had just collected the dishes from lunch and Bucky had somehow stolen the remote from you. He flicked on some appallingly trashy reality show, your concentration faded in and out but every time you forced yourself to pay attention someone was either screaming or necking.
You’d barely even registered the knock at your bedroom door when he jumped up and launched himself towards it like the diligent little soldier he was. You listened intently, your stomach turning when you heard Carol’s voice interspersed with his. Hopefully he’d assess her as a security threat and slam the door in her stupid face.
To your great disappointment, he did not.
“Oh my,” she looked a little more like a painted old hag than a pantomime dame today, “who is that and where can I get one?”
“That’s James, dad hired him to keep an eye on me.”
“Do you know which agency he’s with?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t uncle Frank leave you the house and the security guard in his will?”
“Ugh, yes but he could’ve been a bit more thoughtful. I’d rather not have to look at that beer belly every time I drive through the front gate.”
“I see.”
You tried to plead for help from Bucky with your eyes but he was too busy giving a confused look to the back of her embroidered jacket, the one that you were convinced had been made from old curtains and lampshade tassels. She placed herself down in his seat, leaving him bewildered, turning on the spot like a glitched out video game NPC. He eventually just sat beside you.
“So,” she crossed her veiny old legs, “did you like the present I brought you before?”
You did not like the present she brought you before. It was a self help book whose blurb encouraged you to 'break free from your own mental cage' and 'start being the best version of you'. That mindset is incredibly toxic, Carol. Therapists and antidepressants exist for a reason, Carol. Not everyone can make themselves feel better by getting sloppy wine drunk on their dead husband's money every evening, Carol.
“Yeah, it was great. Thanks.”
“I knew you'd love it, so I brought you something else.” She scurried around in her comically oversized purse for a while before pulling out a small white tub. “It's that miracle balm I told you about, for the scar.”
She noiselessly mouthed the word scar and covered the side of her mouth so Bucky couldn't see, like it was a dirty word, like she couldn't bear to think of the handsome man in the room knowing about such an ugly thing.
“Oh right, thanks but I'm not really supposed to put anything on it while it's still healing. Could get infected.”
“No honey, if you let that thing heal on its own you'll regret it, trust me.”
“Well, the doctor said-”
“Baby, look at me.” The legs became uncrossed as she leaned in. “I'm going to be honest now because I love you. Your body is a five out of ten, maybe a six if you did a cleanse.”
“Right…”
“Now, with this hideous thing sitting on your stomach, you're down to a three. I don't want that for you, do you?”
You were speechless for a second. The words fuck off were just beginning to form in your mouth when she cut you off, turning her attention to the equally pissed looking Bucky.
“How about a man's perspective, hmm? You wouldn't want a partner with something so ghastly on them, would you?”
The calmness with which he answered her was pretty impressive.
“Well, to be honest, I couldn't give a fuck, cause I tend to rate personality higher. Like you, for example, are two out of ten but with a few lessons in grace and courtesy, I could see you moving up to a solid five.”
Your mouth fell open. The breath hitched in your lungs as your eyes flicked between the two of them, one looking outraged, the other looking very fucking pleased with himself. The silence was tense.
After a few seconds she leapt up and stormed out of the room, her heels rapidly clicking against the floor while she screeched your father's name.
Bucky just shrugged at you. “Guess her own medicine didn’t taste too sweet.”
“That was amazing.”
“I'm used to dealing with assholes like that,” he followed her lead, standing up and heading for the door, “but, unlucky for her, I'm in charge of who gets access to this room.”
“You can ban her?”
“If I think she's causing you harm I can do whatever I want.”
“You’re my new favourite person.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
He’d been gone for a while when some muffled shouting started downstairs. Too invested in the situation not to investigate, you decided to slide yourself off the couch and press your ear to the floor in an effort to make out the words. It didn’t work, obviously, and you soon realised there was no way in hell you’d be able to hoist yourself back up again. You just had to wait on the ground while your dignity slowly drained away piece by piece.
Bucky eventually returned, predictably freaking out when he spotted you.
“Shit, what happened? Did you fall?”
“No I kinda… slid.” He gave you a puzzled look while lifting you back onto the couch. “Sorry, I was trying to hear the argument. What happened?”
“She won't be bothering you again.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Can I keep you forever?” You rested your head against the couch cushions. “I’ll let you watch as much trash TV as you want.”
“Don't threaten me with a good time.”
---
A week passed and then another, and with each day you were achieving more and more. Bucky had you showering every day, eating three square meals and taking increasingly lengthy walks around the garden- when your painkillers were doing their job. He’d even spoken to your father about making sure everyone in the house waited for a response after knocking on your door. It sounded like an insignificant thing but you really valued every ounce of privacy you could get your hands on, and it did wonders for improving your mood.
Another thing that was helping in that regard was spending most of your downtime just talking with him. On more than a few occasions you’d actually forgotten he was being paid to stick around, it felt more like you were hanging out with an old friend.
Sometimes it felt like you were hanging out with more than a friend but, every time those feelings started to surface, you quickly pushed them back down into the dark depths in your mind. Acknowledging them would just set you up for inevitable disappointment.
Today, you’d agreed to leave your father’s property for the first time since the incident. Bucky had offered to take you out for a coffee as a soft reintroduction back into the normal world. He drove you out in his ridiculously oversized SUV, passing plenty of perfectly good coffee shops so he could show you his favourite one. It didn’t look like anything special but you trusted him.
He helped you to one of the outside tables, took your order and shuffled inside, giving you a wink over the top of his sunglasses. You rested your hands on the table and glanced around. The street was busy with people and cars and most of the other tables were full, it was midday so you figured most of them were working people taking their lunch breaks.
Then, just for a second, out of the corner of your eye you saw someone in the street stop. Looking over, you made brief eye contact with them before they checked their watch and continued walking. Why were they looking at you? Your eyes darted around the other faces passing by, your panic starting to rise when another of them looked your way.
You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your palms prickling with sweat. The quickening pace of your heart made it harder and harder to pull breath into your lungs, all the muscles in your legs started to tense and your vision blurred at the edges.
“You okay?”
Two takeout cups were hastily abandoned on the table in front of you and a soothing hand landed on your back, Bucky’s face trying to make its way into your line of sight.
“Mhmm.”
“I told you not to bullshit me. What happened?”
“Nothing, really. I just-” You pulled in a stuttering breath. “Need to adjust.”
“Pretty hard to do that when you’re mid panic attack, no? C’mere.”
He turned you round to face him and took you through some breathing exercises, helping you get back in control. The worst of the storm eventually passed but you were pretty shaken up, and he could tell.
“Maybe this was too soon.”
“No, this is good. It probably would’ve happened even if we'd waited longer. Better to get it out of the way.”
“And what if the coffee had taken another ten minutes? You would’a just passed out while I was waiting for fucking milk to foam.”
He seemed angry, but not at you.
“It’s okay, Buck. Really. I could’ve been hit by a truck on the walk over from the car but wasn’t, so why worry about it.”
“Still, we should get you somewhere less crowded,” he took you by the hand, which was unusual, cause he usually just guided you with a flat palm on the back, “probably should’ve started with that.”
You headed back to the car, Bucky somehow juggling you along with two hot drinks, and drove a few miles out of the city. He said he knew of a short, flat hiking trail out in the woods that was only ever busy on weekends. It wasn’t exactly the reintroduction into society that the two of you had planned but, at the very least, it was a step above walks around the yard.
He calmed down once you began walking, the jolly, laid back, Bucky that you were used to quickly resurfacing. It was a huge relief, him being on edge made you on edge and that wasn’t exactly the optimum mood for avoiding another panic attack.
He kept a firm arm around you most of the way, anchoring you to him and protecting you against potential falls. You were pretty sure they were the only reasons.
“I must look fucking dreadful,” you chuckled, “if we bump into anyone they’ll probably think you just found me in the woods.”
“Shut up, you look great.”
“For a three-week-old corpse.”
“A corpse wouldn’t argue back so much.”
“I’m just keeping you on your toes.”
“Damn right you are.”
You smiled to yourself, hearing the warmth in his voice, and decided now was a good time to finally ask him a question you’d been thinking about for a while.
“So, you’ve really never had another client you’ve enjoyed talking to? Not even one?”
“Not that I can remember.” He shrugged slightly. “Why are you so surprised, anyway? We both know how many assholes there are out there.”
“True. I just think you’re easy to talk to, I guess. I’m surprised no-one else made the effort.”
“That’s sweet of you doll, but you should know that just letting me sit by you was completely new for me. I usually don’t even get a chair, never mind a conversation.”
“Brutal. I’m glad the shelter rehomed you with us.”
“Me too.”
You laughed for a second before realising that all this talking had used up your pitiful lung capacity. You came to a stop, Bucky quickly moving to stand in front of you.
“Something wrong?”
“No, I could just use a break.”
“Take as long as you need,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, “we can sit for a while if you want.”
“I’m good.”
Without thinking, you placed both hands on his chest to steady yourself, immediately realising that it was kind of a weird thing to do. Your eyes shot up to his but he was just smiling softly, seemingly unbothered.
The two of you held that position for what felt like an age.
Then, slowly, cautiously, his hands moved down to rest on your lower back, just above your hips. He stepped in closer and your hands tensed, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt. He lowered his head, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. You eagerly reciprocated, curling a hand around the back of his neck in a feeble attempt to keep him there as long as you could. It fell, however, when he abruptly pulled away, your arms going limp at your sides.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay, I-”
“It’s not. Jesus, I’m supposed to be looking after you.” He rubbed his eyes. “We should get back.”
“Can you just wait for a second? I’m not-”
“No.” He was stern, he’d never talked to you like that before. “We’re going back to the car, now.”
You were too shocked to argue. The walk back was tense and the drive home was the same, you looked over at him a few times but his stony expression encouraged you to keep quiet. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had he in your eyes, but you really had to keep reminding yourself of that. It felt like you’d committed a crime.
Once home, you headed up to your room but he didn’t follow, which was unusual. When your father knocked on your door later and told you that Bucky had removed himself from duty, you weren’t surprised. He claimed that a big job had come up out of nowhere.
He never even said goodbye.
---
You hadn’t so much as heard from Bucky since he left over a month ago. You’d maintained all his rituals and kept your healing process on track, adapting your daily walks so you could do them alone, sticking nearby walls and railings. It was a real struggle, emotionally and physically, but you were determined not to let him abandoning you knock you off course. You didn’t even let yourself cry when he left. You were just angry.
So, naturally, when a chance for you to prove to yourself how far you’d progressed without him came around, you jumped at it. A friend of your father’s was throwing a birthday party for his daughter, you’d never been able to stand her but you hadn’t had a proper drink since the incident- and the booze there would be insanely expensive stuff. Plus, you’d been pining for any excuse to wear something other than pyjamas.
You strolled into the party, arm in arm with your father, and you felt good. You felt ready to be there. That was, until you saw who was working security detail. You barely recognised him in the full black bodyguard suit, you were so used to a t-shirt and jeans, but it was definitely him. Your evening was instantly ruined as you started mentally plotting the best way to avoid him.
You decided a good first step was to head straight to the bathroom to compose yourself, giving yourself the same pep talk in the mirror that you’d given the day after he left. You’d come too far to let him fuck up your first big outing. You dabbed the nervous sweat from your upper lip, adjusted your outfit and gave yourself a nod. You could do this. You just needed to stay away.
Wandering back into the party, you looked around for your father, the only person in the room you had any interest in talking to. You heard your name being called over the music and turned towards it. There he was, standing beside Bucky, beckoning you over.
So your plan was fucked, then.
Your stomach tightened. You grabbed a drink from a nearby table and moved over reluctantly.
“There you are. Listen, James was just telling me about the big job he was called to, it sounds incredibly interesting.”
“Oh, really?”
You took a big gulp of champagne, wondering if Bucky’s fictitious story was as good as the real one he’d told you over breakfast that time. Or maybe that one was all made up, too. You glanced over and accidentally caught his eye for a second, but he quickly broke away and looked back at your father.
“I probably shouldn’t go into any more detail.”
“Of course not, I wouldn't want you getting in trouble.” You involuntarily scoffed at your father’s words but managed to play it off as a cough. “It’s such a shame, though. You two seemed to really be getting on well together.”
Your father looked back and forth between the two of you like he was watching a tennis match, unaware of how painfully awkward the lingering silence was. You finished off your champagne and grabbed a fresh glass from a passing waiter, looking around the room for any excuse to leave this conversation. Unfortunately, your father found one first.
“Ah, there’s the birthday girl, I’d better go pass on some well wishes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.”
You cringed as he walked away. Quickly deciding that it was better to not even attempt conversation, you just silently nodded at Bucky and turned to leave. You didn’t get far, however, as he grabbed hold of your arm and stepped towards you.
“Can we talk?”
You were incredibly shocked but tried to play it off. “I guess."
“In private?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you glared down at his hand, “but I would like it if you let go of my arm.”
“Sorry.”
He released his grip and you took a small step away, putting a safe distance between your faces. You were still pissed off at him, that much was for sure, but you weren’t ready to trust yourself being in such close proximity to him again. Anything could happen.
“I get why you’re pissed at me, I would be too. I just need to explain.”
“I know why you did what you did, Buck. You don’t need-”
“Please. Someone’s taking over my shift in ten minutes, will you meet me upstairs?”
“Upstairs? Like, past the rope with the big no guests allowed sign?”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to sneak past,” he smirked slightly, “I heard the security here sucks.”
He was right, too. You got up there with absolutely no trouble whatsoever.
All of the doors off the hallway were closed apart from one, at the very end. You took a gamble and slowly approached, peeking your head round to see Bucky perched on the edge of a huge bed. He shot up when he spotted you in the doorway.
“Sorry, I know this is kinda weird, it's the only room that wasn’t locked or, y’know… occupied.”
“Lovely.”
He nodded and gave you a smile. “You look great. Amazing, actually. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” his smile melted you a little, “mostly thanks to you.”
“Ah, you would’a been fine, I just annoyed you into being fine a bit sooner.”
You nervously rubbed the back of your head, in disbelief at how quickly he’d broken through your thick wall of resentment. You scrambled around trying to gather up some of the bricks and rebuild but being in the presence of that slick motherfucker was making it really difficult.
You gathered your thoughts, took a breath and spoke.
“Buck, like I said downstairs, you don’t need to explain. Obviously making out with your clients is a fireable offence, I get that, so you had to leave. Everyone makes mistakes.”
“You think I left ‘cause of that? You think some shitty job is more important to me than you?”
“I mean, yeah, kinda.”
“Jesus, I really am an asshole.” You gave him a confused frown as he reached out and took both of your hands in his. “Look, I couldn’t give a shit about this job, there’s bodyguarding positions everywhere and most of them don’t involve babysitting rich assholes. I left ‘cause I felt like I’d taken advantage of you. I couldn’t stand it.”
“Huh?”
“You were in a bad place. You were vulnerable and I was supposed to be looking after you, not- y’know...”
“Sucking face?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Right, but you do remember that I’m not a child, yeah? Just because I’m feeling shitty doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions for myself.”
“But it does mean your judgement is at least a little impaired.”
“Fine, whatever, but it isn’t anymore.” You squeezed his hands. “And I’m telling you now as a fully sane, rational adult that you didn’t do anything wrong. Alright?”
A relieved smile spread across his face. “Alright.”
“Good, cause I made a decision and I’m sticking to it.
“Might be a bad decision.”
“Sometimes bad decisions are more fun.”
“You can say that again.”
Your second kiss with Bucky was, somehow, even better. He was more sure of himself this time, less cautious, he moved in quicker. You did the same, wrapping both arms around his neck and letting him take some of your weight. You felt him smile against you as a hand dived into the back of your hair.
Now this was a kiss worth being fired for.
He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “For the record, the first time wasn’t a mistake. It was a… happy accident.”
“Whatever you say,” you chuckled, “I’m just glad we bumped into each other again.”
“Oh, we didn’t. I took this job after checking the guestlist.”
“You sneaky fucker.”
“You know it.”
---
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SHADOW
summary: After the incident things were looking pretty bleak, but the one thing you thought would make everything worse ended up saving you.
Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x y/n
Word Count: 7.8k
Warnings: Language, mentions of suicide and self harm, mentions of guns and gun violence
Author’s Note: So I wrote a one shot because I cannot, for the life of me, stick to a consistent writing schedule. Enjoy!
---
You never expected anyone to feel sorry for you. That had been a pretty consistent theme throughout your life, why would anyone feel bad for the kid who got everything they asked for? Granted, the only thing in your past that might have sparked an ounce of pity were trivial, like a broken ankle or a bad break up, but even after this mess you never expected much.
It'd been a few months now since it happened, either two or three, you weren't sure exactly- enough time for seemingly everyone you'd ever met to show up and implore you to tell the story over and over again. One or two of them did appear genuinely concerned but you couldn't shake the feeling that most of them just wanted the gossip, desperate for anything to make them the most interesting person in the room at their next garden party or champagne brunch or ambassador's reception. Every single painful, repetitive, disingenuous conversation you had to sit through served as a further reminder of why you’d left this life behind as soon as you had the chance. Now you were stuck back here for god knows how much longer, and everything just felt bleak.
A soft knock rapped against your bedroom door. You didn't bother answering, they'd just let themselves in, they always did. The knob turned and the door creaked open, your father's timid face peering in.
"Are you busy?" it was nice of him to ask, but it was also unnecessary, because you hadn’t left your couch to do anything other than pee in weeks. “Your aunt Carol is here. She brought you some gifts, I thought it might make you feel better.”
Both of you knew very well that it would have the opposite effect, the only thing you'd ever resented your mother for was bringing that vapid bitch into your life. Well, that and accidentally letting slip that the tooth fairy wasn’t real on your third birthday.
Carol careered round the door and past your father in her typical pantomime dame dress and makeup. You smirked, thinking to yourself that, in dimmer light and with some sinister music, it would've made an excellent scene for a horror film. Ever since your mother passed she’d been sniffing around the house more and more, you were convinced she was trying to seduce your dad to get his money but you couldn't prove it. Thankfully, he had enough sense to stay the hell away from her.
"oh, look at you poor thing. you look awful." she clunked the wrapped box and card she was holding down on the table and joined you on the couch, her offensive perfume making you nose to begin to itch. “Come on, auntie Carol is here for you now, tell me everything darling.”
You gave your father, who was standing by the door looking very apologetic, a harsh glare.
“There's not much to tell. Dad was mid-speech when some guy in the audience stood up, next thing I knew he was getting tackled and there was a loud bang. I look down and I'm bleeding.”
"Oh my, Who was he?"
“Just some crazy, nationalist, militia guy targeting politicians, apparently. They have no idea if he was alone or with a group so it’s safer for me to stay here for now. My apartment is too much of a risk.”
“Bless you. It's so difficult being in the public eye, but you are so brave.” She pointed down to your stomach, “and don't worry, I've got some magic serum that'll clear up any unsightly scars ready for bikini season. I'll send you my diet plan, too.”
You turned the dial up on the daggers you were shooting your father every time she looked away, and he finally took the hint.
"Okay, carol. We should let her rest now."
“Alright, love you so much baby. Look after yourself, okay? Maybe run a comb through your hair or something. Very frizzy.”
You rolled your eyes at her back as she left and reached over to grab the card. There was a sad puppy on the front, sitting beneath the words sorry you’re having a hard time. You figured that Hallmark probably didn't stock a sorry you got shot by a psychopath card.
your father was lingering. he never lingered.
"Everything okay, dad?"
“Yes. Although, there is something I need to tell you.”
"Go on."
"I've hired someone."
"Right."
For you,” he noted your confusion, “to protect you.”
"A bodyguard?"
“No, he's not a bodyguard.” You raised an eyebrow. “He's not just a bodyguard.”
"The hell does that mean?"
He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Wiping the sweat from his palms onto his trousers, he strode over and took a seat beside you, preparing himself with a deep breath. This was serious.
“The last time you saw Dr Burke she recommended that we… don't leave you on your own too much. So, he's going to be looking out for your welfare, going to be spending time with you.”
“Ah, I see. Suicide watch. Great.”
“I’m worried about you. You barely eat, you don't move from that spot, you haven’t showered for weeks. I know you miss being in your own place but,” he put his hand on top of yours, “I’ve already lost your mother, I can’t lose you too.”
Well, that hit you like a punch in the gut.
“Okay, dad. If you think it’ll help.”
“I do.” He stood up, giving you a light kiss on the top of your head before turning to leave. “He’ll be here in a few hours.”
---
You were woken from a light sleep by another knock on the door. The only thing you hadn’t been struggling with recently was sleep, it was the only way you could make your days pass quicker.
Again, the door creaked open before you answered. Your dad stepped in followed by a man you assumed to be your new long-term babysitter. You’d expected someone more stern looking, someone dressed like an extra from Men in Black, but he just looked like a normal guy. He had a strong face, broad shoulders and deep brown hair. If you’d been in a different state of mind you might even have considered him attractive, but you were far too tired for anything like that.
“Sweetheart, this is-” Your father looked blankly over to his companion, obviously already having forgotten his name.
“James. Nice to meet you.”
You mustered a faint smile. There was a brief, awkward silence as your father’s eyes flicked from you back to the composed looking guest, whose huge arms were folded over his chest.
“Well, uh- I have a call in a few minutes. I suppose I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” he clapped a hand on James’ back, “just let me know if you need anything.”
Then, just like that, you were alone with a complete stranger. Your eyes stayed firmly fixed to the movie you’d slept through half of but were suddenly incredibly interested in. You heard James shuffle forwards, his broad frame eventually scooching into the edge of your vision.
“Look, I get it. You’re a grown-ass adult, I wouldn’t like having some stranger keeping an eye on me all the time either. If you want, I can just stick to the corner, stay out of your way. You won’t even know I’m here.”
That actually sounded like a pretty sweet deal, but you’d feel incredibly guilty having him perched on the other side of the room like a piece of furniture. The least you could do was be a little friendly.
“That’s alright, you can have the comfy seat,” you faintly motioned your head towards the nearby armchair, “but I’ll be shitty company.”
He happily settled himself in. “Makes no odds to me, I’m getting paid to be here.”
A short breathy chuckle escaped your lips, taking you by surprise. It’d been a long while since someone had made you laugh, all the conversations you’d had in the past few weeks had been unbelievably morbid and condescending, most of them with people you had no interest in talking to in the first place.
A couple of silent hours passed. You‘d gotten so used to being alone that you kept forgetting he was there, the odd cough or movement making you jump out of your skin. Eventually, Elaine pounded on the door and announced that she’d brought dinner up for both of you, so James jumped up and helped her with the cart.
Elaine was your father’s housekeeper and the only thing that had prevented him dying of starvation or exposure since your mom died. She was kind and patient, you liked her alot. Her food was always incredible, you felt awful for barely eating it over the last few weeks but the pain from your stomach wound combined with zero expenditure of energy had just killed your appetite.
James looked from his plate over to yours, his knife and fork poised. "you not eating?"
"im not hungry"
"when's the last time you ate anything?"
Someone had been talking to dad.
You shrugged, "This morning, I think"
"Bullshit.” Your eyes snapped in his direction. “You know you’re not gonna get any better if you don’t eat, right? You’ll just have to put up with me bugging you for even longer.”
"Thought you were gonna stay out my way?"
“Mostly.” His mouth curled into a faint smile. “How about this, you eat a couple bites, I’ll eat the rest and we’ll tell your dad you ate the whole thing.”
You considered for a second. Not a bad offer, getting your dad off your back for a while would be pretty great. You knew what game he was playing but you were more than willing to play too just as long as the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.
"Deal."
You expended a tremendous amount of effort leaning yourself forward and grabbing the plate, feeling James’ gaze tunnelling into the side of your face as the two of you began to eat. You had to admit, you enjoyed the food much more than you’d expected, half the plate had gone before you felt full. James looked pretty smug while finishing off the rest of it.
The sky outside slowly turned dark and you could feel yourself getting sleepy, so you settled deeper into the couch for your third sleep of the day.
“Hey,” James leant forward in his seat, “you need help getting to your bed or anything?”
“Oh, no, I’m good. I usually just sleep here.”
He gave you a puzzled look. “There? Is that comfortable? Can’t be good for your back.”
“Probably isn’t, but I don’t have the energy to move.”
“You don’t need the energy,” he sprung up from his seat, “you’ve got me.”
Before you could comprehend what was happening, James had an arm anchored around your upper back and was inching you upwards, away from the safety of your sad-zone and onto your feet. A few mild pangs of pain shot through your stomach but it wasn’t enough to make you fight back, so you just gave in, relaxed into his grip and let him walk you across the room.
Your mattress was unbelievably comfortable and you felt knot after knot untying in your back as you stretched out flat, but you didn’t need to tell him that. Who was this magical asshole, anyway, showing up and suddenly knowing what would help you better than you did?
“I’m just gonna crash on that armchair, if that’s all good with you.”
“There?” You carefully rolled onto your side so you were facing away from him. “Can’t be good for your back.”
A deep chuckle came from behind you. “Smartass. Shout me if you need to go to the bathroom or anything.”
You just grunted, already half asleep. It was only another minute or so before you drifted off peacefully and got the best night of rest you’d had in weeks.
Maybe this babysitting thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.
---
You woke to the sound of soft snoring on the other side of the room. Light was bleeding in around the curtains and you could hear footsteps in the corridor, probably your father heading downstairs for his coffee and newspaper. Coming to your senses, you rolled over and suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to pee. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked over to see James’ limp hand hanging over the edge of the armchair.
You didn’t need him, you could do this.
Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and hoisting yourself up was easier than expected but that, unfortunately, made you a little overconfident for the rest of the journey. After a couple of steps the pain started. You felt pathetic but that amount of effort had actually winded you, all you could do was lower yourself to the ground to catch your breath.
“What the hell are you doing?”
You didn’t even realise he’d woken up, you were too busy wheezing.
“Gotta pee.” You managed to push your words out between gulped in breaths.
“What did I say last night, huh? You should’a yelled.” He lowered himself beside you, placing one arm around your back and one under your knees. “Alright, brace yourself.”
“Wait, what are you-”
You choked on your words when he lifted you clean off the floor, a feat that not many had accomplished in the past. He offered to take you as far as the toilet itself but you adamantly refused, determined to cling onto your last shred of dignity while just about managing to shuffle over there, supporting yourself on the sink.
You washed your hands and intentionally avoided looking in the mirror, moving straight over to the door and finding your minder stood directly outside.
He folded his arms. “While you’re here, why not take a quick shower?”
“I’m not supposed to get my dressings wet.”
“Again, nice try, but you really gotta do better than that to bullshit me.”
You let out a heavy sigh. “Can’t you just let me rot away in peace?”
“I mean, I could, but I’m pretty sure your dad would refuse to pay me.”
“I’ll pay you to leave me alone.”
“You can’t afford me, honey.” He smirked and slipped past you. “I’ll get the water going.”
James turned the shower on and put some folded towels by the sink before heading back into your room and gathering some clean pyjamas. You just stayed where you were, leaning against the counter, as he buzzed around like an overexcited child.
“You’re all set. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
“Thank you, supernanny.”
He flipped you the bird. You laughed and locked the door.
Slowly, carefully, you got undressed, removed your bandages and placed them in the bin. You then had to perch yourself down on the closed toilet seat for a brief break before climbing into the shower. Standing under the water, you looked down at your wound for the first time in weeks, finding yourself amazed at how quickly it had healed. You ran your fingers over it. Never in a million years did you think you’d have a healed gunshot wound anywhere on your body. You thought back to what your aunt said, maybe it was unsightly, it certainly looked weird from this ang-
“You alright?”
James’ overbearing voice snapped you out of your train of thought.
“Yes.”
You turned off the shower and stepped out, lifting a towel to your face and savouring the feeling of finally being clean again. You couldn’t imagine how bad you must’ve smelled before. You pulled on the fresh pyjamas before taking a deep breath and wiping down the mirror, getting a nasty shock when you saw yourself. It looked like all the life had been drained out of you. Your face looked pallid, red eyes sitting above deep, dark bags while skin flaked from your chapped lips. Your hair was still dripping wet but you could tell that weeks of neglect had taken a toll on it.
It seemed like James might’ve come along just in time, any longer sitting in that misery pit and these changes might’ve become irreversible.
“Still all good?”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, just trying to remember the most efficient way to cut wrists. Is it horizontal or vertical?”
Throwing your towel in the laundry basket, you opened the door to see a very unamused looking man.
“Real funny.”
He didn’t get a chance to properly scold you before Elaine knocked on the door with breakfast, a smug grin settling on your face as it dawned on him that he probably shouldn’t cuss you out in front of your father’s closest confidante.
The two of you settled into your designated spots. James immediately started digging into the plate that had been piled high for him but you held off, it had been a while since you stood up for that long and you needed to recover. Sharp pangs of stomach pain weren’t exactly the perfect accompaniment to a hearty appetite.
James placed his fork down on the table and leaned back in his chair, mouth full of food. “We gotta do this again, buttercup?”
“I just need a minute.”
“I thought we had a deal.”
“We did,” a bolt of inspiration struck as you realised it was your turn to get a little something interesting out of this relationship, “but I want to change it up a bit.”
“Alright, go on.”
“I’ll eat if you tell me the most insane thing that’s happened to you while bodyguarding.”
“I really shouldn’t talk about that.”
“Shame,” you dramatically pushed your plate away with a flourish, “I was actually feeling pretty hungry.”
He considered, glaring at you from beneath an arched eyebrow and rhythmically tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair. “Fine, but you gotta finish the whole plate.”
“The whole plate.”
“Alright.”
He leant forward again and carried on eating so you followed suit, forcing down one small bite at a time and just hoping that his story would be worth the pain.
“So, one time some rich dude hired me ‘cause his daughter was worried she had a stalker. Apparently she kept seeing someone in a black hoodie following her around, she even saw ‘em standing on their lawn a few times. Thing is, no-one else had ever seen it. I think half the reason I was hired was to figure out if she was just going crazy.”
“Was she?”
“Be patient, pumpkin. You’ll find out.” Your cheeks flushed a little when he called you that. “A couple weeks passed and I hadn’t seen anything. Then, middle of the night, everyone else was asleep and I was doing my rounds. I looked out the window to the yard and there was someone standing underneath her window in a black hoodie.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit. So, obviously, I sprinted down there, but they spotted me and started running. They vaulted the fence and I would’a lost ‘em in the trees but they got snagged on the other side. I grabbed ‘em, pulled down the hood and-” He eyed the huge fork-full of food you were hovering by your mouth, “you wanna eat that?”
You rolled your eyes, shoved it all in your face and let out a muffled plea. “And?”
“It was her, the daughter.”
“Fuck off.”
“Dead serious. Turns out one of her friends had a stalker and was getting a load of sympathy and attention because of it, so she got jealous and made up one of her own. She figured if I saw it just once everyone would believe her.”
“That’s so fucked. Is that even legal?”
“No idea, not my job. I got my paycheck and left the next morning.”
“Nice to know you really care about your clients.”
He laughed. “Most of my clients are spoiled assholes who never even bother to learn my name.”
“Really? Can’t be hard to learn a name as simple as Justin.” You received your second unamused scowl of the day. “Anyway, we spoiled brats have enough on our plate without having to learn the name of the person willing to take a bullet for us.”
“Nah, you’re not spoiled.”
“You think?”
“Trust me, I’ve seen spoiled. You’re not spoiled. I think you’re the only client I’ve actually enjoyed talking to.”
Interesting. Probably shouldn’t delve into that statement too deeply.
“I’d take that as a compliment but it sounds like there isn’t much competition.”
He smirked, staying silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “My friends call me Bucky, by the way. I prefer it to James. And I really prefer it to Justin.”
“If you insist,” you shrugged, “but I still think you’d make a good Timberlake.”
---
You managed to stomach a good amount of food that day and you even had a good stab at breakfast when the next day rolled around, so you hoped that Bucky might leave you to your own devices for a while now he’d got his own way.
He did not.
As soon as you’d swallowed the last mouthful of toast he announced that he was going to take you on a walk around the garden.
You looked from him to your stomach, then back at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. We’ll take it slow, one step at a time, and it’ll make you feel better. I promise.”
“Can’t we just open a window?”
“Nope.” He slapped his hands down on the arms of the chair and jumped to his feet. “C’mon sweetheart, you know I’m just gonna annoy the hell out of you until you agree.”
“Is threatening me allowed in your contract?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s persuasion with consequences.”
You eventually relented. He was super keen to get going but it soon became clear that he’d overestimated how far along the healing process you were, it took the two of you almost an hour just to get out of your bedroom and down the stairs with all the constant stopping for breath. Bucky went ahead and pulled open the sliding glass door, your mood instantly lifting when the first breeze of fresh air washed over you. You were starting to hate how often he was right.
He offered you his arm and set a bench on the other side of the lawn as your goal. The neatly mowed grass felt soft between your toes, the faint sounds of birds and planes overhead helping you relax a great deal more than the constant background noise from the TV you’d kept switched on for weeks now. When you reached your goal, Bucky helped you lower yourself onto the seat and carefully squeezed himself beside you once you were settled. Sitting this close to him felt strange, you were used to him being confined to his armchair, and the bench was a pretty small one. His thigh was pressed up against yours. You tried not to think about it.
Deeply inhaling the smell of grass and flowers into your lungs made you feel like a new person but it was also making you a little drowsy, the journey down had zapped all your energy and the warmth from the morning sun was cosy and soothing.
The next thing you remembered was your head being gently nudged, prompting your eyes to flicker open.
“Sorry, princess. I’d let you sleep for hours but I really need to pee.”
You came to your senses and felt the crook of Bucky’s neck against the top of your head. His arm was around you, hand gently resting on your shoulder.
“Shit, sorry.” In your embarrassment you sat up a little too quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through your stomach.
“You alright?”
“Oh, yeah. Just, y’know, the ol’ bullet would.” You laughed off his concern and waved him away. “Go pee.”
“Alright, I’ll just be a minute, don’t move.”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”
He was already sprinting across the lawn when he shouted back. “That’s the spirit, sunshine.”
You shot a giddy grin at the back of his head. It still felt like morning but you had no idea how long you’d been knocked out for, you just knew you could very easily spend every night resting in Bucky’s neck like that.
---
Your shadow had been with you for about a week now and, contrary to all initial expectations, you’d actually been enjoying his company. He could be annoying as hell with his constant demands pushing you further and further when all you wanted to do was melt into the couch, but you could see that he was good for you. You supposed that being forced to spend every second of every day with someone gave you no choice but to recognize their good qualities. Thankfully, he seemed to have a lot of those.
Elaine had just collected the dishes from lunch and Bucky had somehow stolen the remote from you. He flicked on some appallingly trashy reality show, your concentration faded in and out but every time you forced yourself to pay attention someone was either screaming or necking.
You’d barely even registered the knock at your bedroom door when he jumped up and launched himself towards it like the diligent little soldier he was. You listened intently, your stomach turning when you heard Carol’s voice interspersed with his. Hopefully he’d assess her as a security threat and slam the door in her stupid face.
To your great disappointment, he did not.
“Oh my,” she looked a little more like a painted old hag than a pantomime dame today, “who is that and where can I get one?”
“That’s James, dad hired him to keep an eye on me.”
“Do you know which agency he’s with?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t uncle Frank leave you the house and the security guard in his will?”
“Ugh, yes but he could’ve been a bit more thoughtful. I’d rather not have to look at that beer belly every time I drive through the front gate.”
“I see.”
You tried to plead for help from Bucky with your eyes but he was too busy giving a confused look to the back of her embroidered jacket, the one that you were convinced had been made from old curtains and lampshade tassels. She placed herself down in his seat, leaving him bewildered, turning on the spot like a glitched out video game NPC. He eventually just sat beside you.
“So,” she crossed her veiny old legs, “did you like the present I brought you before?”
You did not like the present she brought you before. It was a self help book whose blurb encouraged you to 'break free from your own mental cage' and 'start being the best version of you'. That mindset is incredibly toxic, Carol. Therapists and antidepressants exist for a reason, Carol. Not everyone can make themselves feel better by getting sloppy wine drunk on their dead husband's money every evening, Carol.
“Yeah, it was great. Thanks.”
“I knew you'd love it, so I brought you something else.” She scurried around in her comically oversized purse for a while before pulling out a small white tub. “It's that miracle balm I told you about, for the scar.”
She noiselessly mouthed the word scar and covered the side of her mouth so Bucky couldn't see, like it was a dirty word, like she couldn't bear to think of the handsome man in the room knowing about such an ugly thing.
“Oh right, thanks but I'm not really supposed to put anything on it while it's still healing. Could get infected.”
“No honey, if you let that thing heal on its own you'll regret it, trust me.”
“Well, the doctor said-”
“Baby, look at me.” The legs became uncrossed as she leaned in. “I'm going to be honest now because I love you. Your body is a five out of ten, maybe a six if you did a cleanse.”
“Right…”
“Now, with this hideous thing sitting on your stomach, you're down to a three. I don't want that for you, do you?”
You were speechless for a second. The words fuck off were just beginning to form in your mouth when she cut you off, turning her attention to the equally pissed looking Bucky.
“How about a man's perspective, hmm? You wouldn't want a partner with something so ghastly on them, would you?”
The calmness with which he answered her was pretty impressive.
“Well, to be honest, I couldn't give a fuck, cause I tend to rate personality higher. Like you, for example, are two out of ten but with a few lessons in grace and courtesy, I could see you moving up to a solid five.”
Your mouth fell open. The breath hitched in your lungs as your eyes flicked between the two of them, one looking outraged, the other looking very fucking pleased with himself. The silence was tense.
After a few seconds she leapt up and stormed out of the room, her heels rapidly clicking against the floor while she screeched your father's name.
Bucky just shrugged at you. “Guess her own medicine didn’t taste too sweet.”
“That was amazing.”
“I'm used to dealing with assholes like that,” he followed her lead, standing up and heading for the door, “but, unlucky for her, I'm in charge of who gets access to this room.”
“You can ban her?”
“If I think she's causing you harm I can do whatever I want.”
“You’re my new favourite person.”
“Can I get that in writing?”
He’d been gone for a while when some muffled shouting started downstairs. Too invested in the situation not to investigate, you decided to slide yourself off the couch and press your ear to the floor in an effort to make out the words. It didn’t work, obviously, and you soon realised there was no way in hell you’d be able to hoist yourself back up again. You just had to wait on the ground while your dignity slowly drained away piece by piece.
Bucky eventually returned, predictably freaking out when he spotted you.
“Shit, what happened? Did you fall?”
“No I kinda… slid.” He gave you a puzzled look while lifting you back onto the couch. “Sorry, I was trying to hear the argument. What happened?”
“She won't be bothering you again.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Can I keep you forever?” You rested your head against the couch cushions. “I’ll let you watch as much trash TV as you want.”
“Don't threaten me with a good time.”
---
A week passed and then another, and with each day you were achieving more and more. Bucky had you showering every day, eating three square meals and taking increasingly lengthy walks around the garden- when your painkillers were doing their job. He’d even spoken to your father about making sure everyone in the house waited for a response after knocking on your door. It sounded like an insignificant thing but you really valued every ounce of privacy you could get your hands on, and it did wonders for improving your mood.
Another thing that was helping in that regard was spending most of your downtime just talking with him. On more than a few occasions you’d actually forgotten he was being paid to stick around, it felt more like you were hanging out with an old friend.
Sometimes it felt like you were hanging out with more than a friend but, every time those feelings started to surface, you quickly pushed them back down into the dark depths in your mind. Acknowledging them would just set you up for inevitable disappointment.
Today, you’d agreed to leave your father’s property for the first time since the incident. Bucky had offered to take you out for a coffee as a soft reintroduction back into the normal world. He drove you out in his ridiculously oversized SUV, passing plenty of perfectly good coffee shops so he could show you his favourite one. It didn’t look like anything special but you trusted him.
He helped you to one of the outside tables, took your order and shuffled inside, giving you a wink over the top of his sunglasses. You rested your hands on the table and glanced around. The street was busy with people and cars and most of the other tables were full, it was midday so you figured most of them were working people taking their lunch breaks.
Then, just for a second, out of the corner of your eye you saw someone in the street stop. Looking over, you made brief eye contact with them before they checked their watch and continued walking. Why were they looking at you? Your eyes darted around the other faces passing by, your panic starting to rise when another of them looked your way.
You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your palms prickling with sweat. The quickening pace of your heart made it harder and harder to pull breath into your lungs, all the muscles in your legs started to tense and your vision blurred at the edges.
“You okay?”
Two takeout cups were hastily abandoned on the table in front of you and a soothing hand landed on your back, Bucky’s face trying to make its way into your line of sight.
“Mhmm.”
“I told you not to bullshit me. What happened?”
“Nothing, really. I just-” You pulled in a stuttering breath. “Need to adjust.”
“Pretty hard to do that when you’re mid panic attack, no? C’mere.”
He turned you round to face him and took you through some breathing exercises, helping you get back in control. The worst of the storm eventually passed but you were pretty shaken up, and he could tell.
“Maybe this was too soon.”
“No, this is good. It probably would’ve happened even if we'd waited longer. Better to get it out of the way.”
“And what if the coffee had taken another ten minutes? You would’a just passed out while I was waiting for fucking milk to foam.”
He seemed angry, but not at you.
“It’s okay, Buck. Really. I could’ve been hit by a truck on the walk over from the car but wasn’t, so why worry about it.”
“Still, we should get you somewhere less crowded,” he took you by the hand, which was unusual, cause he usually just guided you with a flat palm on the back, “probably should’ve started with that.”
You headed back to the car, Bucky somehow juggling you along with two hot drinks, and drove a few miles out of the city. He said he knew of a short, flat hiking trail out in the woods that was only ever busy on weekends. It wasn’t exactly the reintroduction into society that the two of you had planned but, at the very least, it was a step above walks around the yard.
He calmed down once you began walking, the jolly, laid back, Bucky that you were used to quickly resurfacing. It was a huge relief, him being on edge made you on edge and that wasn’t exactly the optimum mood for avoiding another panic attack.
He kept a firm arm around you most of the way, anchoring you to him and protecting you against potential falls. You were pretty sure they were the only reasons.
“I must look fucking dreadful,” you chuckled, “if we bump into anyone they’ll probably think you just found me in the woods.”
“Shut up, you look great.”
“For a three-week-old corpse.”
“A corpse wouldn’t argue back so much.”
“I’m just keeping you on your toes.”
“Damn right you are.”
You smiled to yourself, hearing the warmth in his voice, and decided now was a good time to finally ask him a question you’d been thinking about for a while.
“So, you’ve really never had another client you’ve enjoyed talking to? Not even one?”
“Not that I can remember.” He shrugged slightly. “Why are you so surprised, anyway? We both know how many assholes there are out there.”
“True. I just think you’re easy to talk to, I guess. I’m surprised no-one else made the effort.”
“That’s sweet of you doll, but you should know that just letting me sit by you was completely new for me. I usually don’t even get a chair, never mind a conversation.”
“Brutal. I’m glad the shelter rehomed you with us.”
“Me too.”
You laughed for a second before realising that all this talking had used up your pitiful lung capacity. You came to a stop, Bucky quickly moving to stand in front of you.
“Something wrong?”
“No, I could just use a break.”
“Take as long as you need,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, “we can sit for a while if you want.”
“I’m good.”
Without thinking, you placed both hands on his chest to steady yourself, immediately realising that it was kind of a weird thing to do. Your eyes shot up to his but he was just smiling softly, seemingly unbothered.
The two of you held that position for what felt like an age.
Then, slowly, cautiously, his hands moved down to rest on your lower back, just above your hips. He stepped in closer and your hands tensed, grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt. He lowered his head, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. You eagerly reciprocated, curling a hand around the back of his neck in a feeble attempt to keep him there as long as you could. It fell, however, when he abruptly pulled away, your arms going limp at your sides.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s okay, I-”
“It’s not. Jesus, I’m supposed to be looking after you.” He rubbed his eyes. “We should get back.”
“Can you just wait for a second? I’m not-”
“No.” He was stern, he’d never talked to you like that before. “We’re going back to the car, now.”
You were too shocked to argue. The walk back was tense and the drive home was the same, you looked over at him a few times but his stony expression encouraged you to keep quiet. You knew you hadn’t done anything wrong, and neither had he in your eyes, but you really had to keep reminding yourself of that. It felt like you’d committed a crime.
Once home, you headed up to your room but he didn’t follow, which was unusual. When your father knocked on your door later and told you that Bucky had removed himself from duty, you weren’t surprised. He claimed that a big job had come up out of nowhere.
He never even said goodbye.
---
You hadn’t so much as heard from Bucky since he left over a month ago. You’d maintained all his rituals and kept your healing process on track, adapting your daily walks so you could do them alone, sticking nearby walls and railings. It was a real struggle, emotionally and physically, but you were determined not to let him abandoning you knock you off course. You didn’t even let yourself cry when he left. You were just angry.
So, naturally, when a chance for you to prove to yourself how far you’d progressed without him came around, you jumped at it. A friend of your father’s was throwing a birthday party for his daughter, you’d never been able to stand her but you hadn’t had a proper drink since the incident- and the booze there would be insanely expensive stuff. Plus, you’d been pining for any excuse to wear something other than pyjamas.
You strolled into the party, arm in arm with your father, and you felt good. You felt ready to be there. That was, until you saw who was working security detail. You barely recognised him in the full black bodyguard suit, you were so used to a t-shirt and jeans, but it was definitely him. Your evening was instantly ruined as you started mentally plotting the best way to avoid him.
You decided a good first step was to head straight to the bathroom to compose yourself, giving yourself the same pep talk in the mirror that you’d given the day after he left. You’d come too far to let him fuck up your first big outing. You dabbed the nervous sweat from your upper lip, adjusted your outfit and gave yourself a nod. You could do this. You just needed to stay away.
Wandering back into the party, you looked around for your father, the only person in the room you had any interest in talking to. You heard your name being called over the music and turned towards it. There he was, standing beside Bucky, beckoning you over.
So your plan was fucked, then.
Your stomach tightened. You grabbed a drink from a nearby table and moved over reluctantly.
“There you are. Listen, James was just telling me about the big job he was called to, it sounds incredibly interesting.”
“Oh, really?”
You took a big gulp of champagne, wondering if Bucky’s fictitious story was as good as the real one he’d told you over breakfast that time. Or maybe that one was all made up, too. You glanced over and accidentally caught his eye for a second, but he quickly broke away and looked back at your father.
“I probably shouldn’t go into any more detail.”
“Of course not, I wouldn't want you getting in trouble.” You involuntarily scoffed at your father’s words but managed to play it off as a cough. “It’s such a shame, though. You two seemed to really be getting on well together.”
Your father looked back and forth between the two of you like he was watching a tennis match, unaware of how painfully awkward the lingering silence was. You finished off your champagne and grabbed a fresh glass from a passing waiter, looking around the room for any excuse to leave this conversation. Unfortunately, your father found one first.
“Ah, there’s the birthday girl, I’d better go pass on some well wishes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.”
You cringed as he walked away. Quickly deciding that it was better to not even attempt conversation, you just silently nodded at Bucky and turned to leave. You didn’t get far, however, as he grabbed hold of your arm and stepped towards you.
“Can we talk?”
You were incredibly shocked but tried to play it off. “I guess."
“In private?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you glared down at his hand, “but I would like it if you let go of my arm.”
“Sorry.”
He released his grip and you took a small step away, putting a safe distance between your faces. You were still pissed off at him, that much was for sure, but you weren’t ready to trust yourself being in such close proximity to him again. Anything could happen.
“I get why you’re pissed at me, I would be too. I just need to explain.”
“I know why you did what you did, Buck. You don’t need-”
“Please. Someone’s taking over my shift in ten minutes, will you meet me upstairs?”
“Upstairs? Like, past the rope with the big no guests allowed sign?”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to sneak past,” he smirked slightly, “I heard the security here sucks.”
He was right, too. You got up there with absolutely no trouble whatsoever.
All of the doors off the hallway were closed apart from one, at the very end. You took a gamble and slowly approached, peeking your head round to see Bucky perched on the edge of a huge bed. He shot up when he spotted you in the doorway.
“Sorry, I know this is kinda weird, it's the only room that wasn’t locked or, y’know… occupied.”
“Lovely.”
He nodded and gave you a smile. “You look great. Amazing, actually. How are you feeling?”
“Better,” his smile melted you a little, “mostly thanks to you.”
“Ah, you would’a been fine, I just annoyed you into being fine a bit sooner.”
You nervously rubbed the back of your head, in disbelief at how quickly he’d broken through your thick wall of resentment. You scrambled around trying to gather up some of the bricks and rebuild but being in the presence of that slick motherfucker was making it really difficult.
You gathered your thoughts, took a breath and spoke.
“Buck, like I said downstairs, you don’t need to explain. Obviously making out with your clients is a fireable offence, I get that, so you had to leave. Everyone makes mistakes.”
“You think I left ‘cause of that? You think some shitty job is more important to me than you?”
“I mean, yeah, kinda.”
“Jesus, I really am an asshole.” You gave him a confused frown as he reached out and took both of your hands in his. “Look, I couldn’t give a shit about this job, there’s bodyguarding positions everywhere and most of them don’t involve babysitting rich assholes. I left ‘cause I felt like I’d taken advantage of you. I couldn’t stand it.”
“Huh?”
“You were in a bad place. You were vulnerable and I was supposed to be looking after you, not- y’know...”
“Sucking face?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Right, but you do remember that I’m not a child, yeah? Just because I’m feeling shitty doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions for myself.”
“But it does mean your judgement is at least a little impaired.”
“Fine, whatever, but it isn’t anymore.” You squeezed his hands. “And I’m telling you now as a fully sane, rational adult that you didn’t do anything wrong. Alright?”
A relieved smile spread across his face. “Alright.”
“Good, cause I made a decision and I’m sticking to it.
“Might be a bad decision.”
“Sometimes bad decisions are more fun.”
“You can say that again.”
Your second kiss with Bucky was, somehow, even better. He was more sure of himself this time, less cautious, he moved in quicker. You did the same, wrapping both arms around his neck and letting him take some of your weight. You felt him smile against you as a hand dived into the back of your hair.
Now this was a kiss worth being fired for.
He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “For the record, the first time wasn’t a mistake. It was a… happy accident.”
“Whatever you say,” you chuckled, “I’m just glad we bumped into each other again.”
“Oh, we didn’t. I took this job after checking the guestlist.”
“You sneaky fucker.”
“You know it.”
---
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anyways before i forget.
coward!MC lesson 16 reactions,,, bro the angst potential there is so real idk even where to start.
i legit imagine,,, you're in such a state of abject terror and shock, like, you literally died, not a game, no joking, it HAPPENED, and no one saved you, belphie didn't stop, there was absolutely nothing you could do
first lucifer rejecting you, and then this. it'd be a massive setback to any kind of bravery you'd been able to muster because seriously, post lesson 16, literally fuck that. you could DIE, this is REAL, and you were stupid for ever forgetting that.
hhh just. satan, lucifer, mammon,, whichever other boys (i love me some dia so maybe him and barb, who probably deserves to feel at least a little responsible), knowing how much you suffer. trying to help.
HNNNNNG YOU WROTE MC'S TERROR SO FUCKING GOOD AND NOW THE ANGST POWER LIVES IN MY BRAIIIIN
strongly worded and more detailed letters to follow, love, elsey,
Coward! MC here
Hellfire tea sits cold in your lap.
The flames in the fireplace burn with vigour, bright and burning as expected of something like Hell. Mammon once threw a broken chair in there, to hide it from the eldest, and it reduced to ashes in front of your eyes within seconds.
The fire devour anything it gets.
Like that black tapir roasted to perfection by Satan. Babylon curry stirred by Asmodeus, with two pink hairclips that he put in place before beginning with the cooking and as he chirped "so that my hair won't be affected by the heat !," and the cheerful chatter in the air. Plans made and some promptly turned away (exploring all Devildom restaurants in a day might just lead to bankruptcy) and smiles which were not seen before.
And Quetzalcoatl brain soup stirred by a tall demon.
For his twin, of course.
Bony fingers that gripped the ladle and lips curling into a smile at the taste. Those same fingers around your throat. Tightening, not letting you breathe even when you begged. Black spots in your vision and a throbbing pain in your chest after having been thrown down the stairs. You must have broken a bone or two in there, but you're not sure.
You're not even sure why you are alive.
Belphegor laughs, and you freeze in your seat, fork with spaghetti twisted around it falling on the table with a plop!
You blame it on clumsy hands. And yet, your heartbeat can be heard by inhumane ears.
You stare at it with detachment, perhaps wondering if the piece of food will jump to life.
"Here," Belphegor says, passing you a plate of sushi. "I thought you would like it, since its from the human world."
You stare but smile, and when his fingers brush against yours you tremble.
"I missed out on a lot, didn't I?" He mentions with gaze half-lidded. "I want to catch up on everything."
You chew on rice and fish but the taste doesn't matter at the moment. The room is gigantic and you already dwarf in comparison. Eyes gaze at you in concern, but you pay no heed.
Did your death even get a mourning?
When Belphegor says your name, you nod and say yes.
Even when you beg yourself to say no and get out, out of the room where he is sitting and eating and you're dining with him and his brothers and you're dining with rejection and death in front of you and oh god you can't say no—
Your fingers dig into your thigh.
"MC, are you alright?" Asmodeus whispers, unable to avoid the way in which your hands tremble when Belphegor is near. You don't hear him, continuing to stare at the half-eaten sushi on your plate. Your heart pounds in your chest, the familiar tendrils of fear clinging to you as the seventhborn draws nearer.
"MC—"
He is barely able to place a hand on your shoulder before you jolt, throwing away your cutlery with a clang. The chair makes a noise that makes everyone else wince, following which you're gone and out of the dining room.
You're gone in a flash, footsteps fading with the door of your room slamming shut.
This is your chance.
Go back in time. Find out what helped Belphegor escape. Come back.
Sounds like a pretty neat plan.
"Thank you, MC." When Lucifer expresses his gratitude for your help, you smile in understanding.
Even after what has happened, you will show everyone that you can be better. That you're not the coward you used to be. After having faced rejection and cried outside the firstborn's door, writing on paper that tore due to how much you erased your work and after Lucifer's demon form towering over you. Teeth bared in a display of aggression, and the sickening thud that was made when Beel collided with the furniture.
And after all that has happened, things are finally looking up for you. You've fallen down many times, but you're learning to brush yourself and get up, persevere, and not shrink when faced with the slightest threat.
This is your chance, you affirm, clenching your fist. You can finally prove that you're worthy of respect, a value that you want to be admired for.
"Remember, you must not tell anyone that you are from the future, as well as me. That might end up warping history. Return after finding out the reason for Belphegor's escape."
The butler instructs, finger under his chin. You nod, flashing the demon a smile to let him know that you are prepared. Barbatos's warning echoes clear in your head as you approach the door, and open it, revealing a purple mist.
When you look back at the demon, his expression reveals nothing. Bidding him bye, you step forward.
You can't wait to return.
As soon as the haze clears, you find yourself in the hallway of the House of Lamentation. You pace around, trying to ascertain as to during which event you are here.
The sound of bickering catches your ears, and you step forward into Mammon's room.
"When you're silencing yourself, ensure to quieten that stomach too!"
"Hey! Don't ask me to do the impossible!"
"Lucifer and MC should have opened up to each other by now."
Your breath hitches in your throat as you take in Asmo's words. So the whole game with the firstborn was planned...
A smile forms on your face at the realisation, but it drops as soon as you remember that they don't know what will happen. Screaming and shouting. Bristled wings and snarls. Threats on your life. Careful to not make noise, you step forward to listen better.
And the sound of the empty can crushing beneath your feet is enough to attract attention.
Mammon's head whips around. "I didn't know you were in here the whole time!" He says in disbelief, and the others look on. You gulp, having the urge to get out of the room without explaining yourself, but you stop.
"Yeah, I followed Satan around.." You mutter, embarrassed, and the fourthborn frowns.
"See! I told you to be careful" Asmo complains, pointing a finger accusingly at his brother. "Now look what you've done."
The idea to make Lucifer and you talk again has not worked out, and the demon pouts.
Levi furrows his brows."You should see him." He says, and you nod, glad to get out and solve the mission. Back in the hallway, you hear faint voices, and on inspecting closely you discover that they're coming from the top of the stairs.
Where Belphegor is held prisoner.
"The old Lucifer wasn't like this! The old Lucifer didn't care what others thought of him!"
You don't hear a retort.
Perhaps this was one of the many reasons why you fell in love with Lucifer. Brave and confident of himself, willing to sacrifice himself for those who loves.
Something you wouldn't have been able to muster the courage for.
But you're growing. You're making progress, as small that might be. You no longer tolerate lower-level demons stepping up and stealing your lunch or bothering you in class. Grades are improving, and so are your relations in the house.
You don't want it all to shatter.
You don't want to pick yourself up again like that night.
Descending footsteps alert you, and so you hide.
And Belphegor's pleading voice for help is something you are unable to resist.
And so you step forward and open the door.
And so Belphegor embraces you.
And then he transforms.
"What—What the hell are you doing?!" You stammer, fear creeping in your veins at the sudden reveal of his demon form. "Belphegor, what exactly are you planning?"
When his hand curl around your neck, you scream.
He pushes you against the wall of the attic, your head colliding with the stone, further adding to your agony. The demon laughs, and you wonder if this is his genuine smile, finally revealed in a moment of cruelty.
"Don't blame me for tricking you, blame yourself for falling for it," He snarls, teeth too sharp and eyes too bright in the dim light. You struggle to breathe, your clawing and kicking of no use.
"Please," You beg, barely able to rasp out words when he squeezes your neck so tightly you fear he might just wrung it and kill you. "I don't want to—I—please d-don't—"
His smile is cruel.
"It's rather unpleasant, in't it? Being choked like this." Belphegor laughs, the sound throaty and cruel, and you feel your heart breaking further at the betrayal. You thought you were friends. You trusted him. You freed him.
All that courage you had gathered, all gone to waste. Your mission—failed. What you feared during your time in the Devildom is happening, and you can't even do anything to stop it.
You are about to die.
Your vision blurs with tears, and you struggle to breathe in his grasp.
Not this time. Not this. Anything but this. Please don't kill me.
His laugh still rings in your ears as your eyes close.
"Not my breakfast!"
Leviathan protests, unable to do anything but watch as Beel downs the rest of his food, miffed at his ignorance. He slams his hand on the table, and Lucifer frowns.
"Beel and Levi—"
The delicate normalcy in the room has been broken, and now it lies shattered like a thousand glass pieces that will be hard to pick up and will pierce skin.
If not of demons, than of a human.
The demon straightens his posture, realising that his presence has stopped the chatter that he had anticipated. Belphegor gazes around the room, and when he turns to look his brothers in the eye they don't meet his gaze.
"Come on," He drawls, pulling back the chair to sit down, the sound making everyone wince. "Continue."
He grabs his portion of bread and soup, but no one resumes their actions.
Indifferent, the demon takes a bite of the bread.
"So...are you going along with Belphie to school?" Asmo questions, hand resting under his chin.
Besides him, Leviathan announces that he will grab something to eat at the cafeteria, and the fading footsteps create a sound no one wants to hear.
Belphegor takes a sip of the soup. "MC doesn't have to go along if they don't want to." His expression reveals nothing; and your shoulders sag with relief.
You don't go with Belphegor to school that day.
But that doesn't spare you from his presence next to yours in the class.
Neither does the fact that you're sitting next to the demon that killed you once.
Has he brushed aside what happened so easily? And have the others done the same? You ask yourself as the professor demonstrates how to manifest magic circles. And rejection still sits bitter within you.
After that class is over, you have to go shopping for Diavolo's birthday. You're not sure if you'll be able to do that with Belphegor around.
Every step you take will have to be done with caution. Because you, foolish human, had forgotten that you were defenseless, with or without the pacts.
They knew what would happen when you would step into the portal.
Neither did you find someone who loved you.
Neither was your love returned.
The pain of rejection dulls in comparison to death, and even then you find yourself in shambles.
You were, after all, sent to your demise instead. You laugh at the fact, a low chuckle that breaks off into a crack at the end, and it doesn't help that Mammon winces noticing your expression of happiness is a bitter one. Nor is it true.
After running into the residents of Purgatory hall, you find that nothing escapes Simeon's gaze.
When he advices you to serve as a bridge for the brothers, you are tempted to cackle.
The angel quietens when he sees the dark circles under your eyes, and the way your eyes dart around the stairs, waiting for someone to strike. Instead Simeon breathes out, murmuring that you are welcome to come to Purgatory Hall whenever you wish. The angel doesn't know what took place, but he knows you're in turmoil.
"If you want someone to talk to, I'm right here." He departs with those words.
He leads Luke back home.
He doesn't know what to say.
And your vision blurs as they walk away.
Nothing can be said of this moment, nothing is left to say. Its silence silences.
Game night is not a peace-building activity.
Rather, it leads to chaos.
"Wrong decision Mammon! You could have had Ruri work as an idol and instead you've sent her to the casino!"
"She'll make more money and then you'll get more! Stop shoutin at me!"
"This was my videogame—"
The door slams open.
And then it begins.
"So you're telling me that Beel is feelin guilty because he didn't know you were being held..prisoner?"
"What else," Belphegor rolls his eyes, and when his gaze meets yours his expression is unreadable. He settles away from you, swiping a pillow from Levi's lap who gazes around the room, and placing it on his own. Although he's not touching you, his presence is enough to inspire fear. Your nerves stay on edge, body stiffening as you attempt to stay still and not shrivel besides him.
You want to go back to your room.
"Should we go and see Beel?" Mammon mutters in your ear, not wanting to let Belphie hear, but the action has you nearly jolting in your place.
Your eyes are downcast. "S-Sure," You whisper, voice low. "We should see him." You play with your thumb, refusing to meet either brother's gaze. The audio from the game stops playing, and the silence that follows starts to envelope the room in a heavy blanket.
The secondborn frowns.
"Ya alright?" He questions, eyes travelling over your form, inspecting for any injuries you might have been trying to hide or any signs of illness, but when he sees the way your hands tremble and breath runs ragged Mammon bends down.
"Let's go to your room MC, how about that?"
You nod, and let him lead the way.
When the door closes again, it is Levi's turn to gape at Belphegor.
"They're scared of you," He blurts out, unable to bear the silence. "MC doesn't want to be near you."
Belphegor stares at the tank in resignation.
Back in your room, Mammon dims the lights with a simple incantation that he heard Lucifer recite countless times. "Thanks," You say, voice muffled under the blanket. The demon smiles, his eyes looking unusually bright in the dark, but you brush it aside as a demon quirk.
"Anything for ya."
He turns to leave, ready to walk out the door and close it, then walk straight towards the end of the hallway where—
"Mammon?"
His name comes out in a whisper, and he stills.
"Could you stay?"
A smile. "Of course."
"Are you alright?"
Lucifer questions, and you tremble.
"I'm fine," You mumble, unable to meet his gaze. You don't have the courage to even look the demon in the eye, and so you stare at your notebook. "Just doing some assignments," You blurt, picking up a pencil in hopes of making yourself look busy. "We've got a test tomorrow in Hexes and Curses."
The demon eyes you, lips turned downwards and brows furrowed.
The man can see you trembling. The way your eyes flicker nervously over lines of text, or the way you keep fidgeting with the pencil.
You're scared.
And who's fault is it?
Who is responsible for your death?
Who is responsible for locking Belphegor?
Who is responsible for the fall from the Celestial Realm?
Who is responsible for destroying any courage you had gathered?
All these questions are screamed at him, and the war comes to mind. When others had believed in him, and he failed them.
He failed you.
Lucifer knows that it is him, and no other being. All that had happened to you are the consequences of his own actions. That after having finally gathered yourself from the pain of rejection, the pain of dying had finally torn down any remnants of your happiness and peace here.
And...would you even trust him?
The firstborn asks himself this question as he ogles your form; desperately trying to find a way for you or him to leave. Because he can't be trusted, not anymore.
And he can't even believe you when you say that you're fine.
"You should rest," He says, voice raspy. "The past few days have been....."
The demon winces, stopping himself before he goes and says something that will tear the manufactured normalcy you've been desperately trying to present.
You nod in return, muttering out a 'good night,' before gathering your notebook and scurrying out from the room. You can feel eyes burning holes in the back of your head; you can feel Lucifer staring at you, but you don't want to look back.
And as your footsteps retreat, Lucifer replaces the vacant spot you had left, on the chair.
He inspects the wood, eyes gazing over the material before he rests his head on it—too exhausted to do anything else. Too tired to try right now.
He's worsened your agony.
Gloves fingers pick up the pencil lying abandoned, and the firstborn stares at it. Your departure sets something in his chest throbbing with pain, and he knows it is love that he cannot speak about.
Oh, how the tables have turned.
He loves you. But it is an affection he does not have the courage to speak about, for his actions say something else.
Does he even deserve you?
Lucifer's throat tightens, and he refuses to acknowledge it.
His mind drifts back to the time when his brothers were creating a fuss about that Devilgram photo with you and Satan. How you both looked so happy and it was someone else who'd made you smile. How hard you had cried that night when he had rejected you and how scared you were after. How you avoided him after and how you must have cried and how scared you must have been when Belphegor killed you—
A garbled cry spills from his throat.
The sound Lucifer makes is something he's mortified to hear from himself. The man's vision blurs and all he can feel is the agony in his chest. His face is wet. And upon realising that the library isn't soundproof he casts an enchantment, through a tone that cracks in the end.
No one will be able to hear his cries now.
Your spirits have been crushed, and the MC he once knew is gone, replaced by one that had their spirits defeated.
Lucifer is witness to that. From watching you run away, leaving behind Beel and Luke in the underground tomb to standing in front of Diavolo, going back in time....and being rejected and yet bouncing back...there's no greater testimony than it.
He calls you to his room the night before you're supposed to leave for the human world.
You walk into the room to see Lucifer by the fireplace. The flames frame his features in a way which takes away your breath. It is in this moment that you're reminded that you are in a room with the Avatar of Pride and fallen angel, Lucifer himself.
You suppose there's no better time to be wary than now.
In hindsight, you should have never trusted them from the start. For who knew smiles and laughter would get you killed? So when the demon asks for you, it takes fifteen minutes itself to muster up courage to move.
And even more to stand in front of him.
"Come, sit down," He murmurs, gesturing to an empty couch across him. "Please make yourself comfortable."
The man attempts to make yourself feel relaxed in his presence, but you can't help the racing of your heart when you sit down on the plush couch, darting your gaze around the room, looking everywhere but in his eyes. When you finally do, look in his direction, you find that Lucifer is not scrutinizing you.
Rather, he's focused on the fire.
"I chose you as the exchange student for this programe." Lucifer declares, voice somber.
You fidget in your seat, not knowing what to make of his words. When he looks at you, your guts tell you to flee, yet you remain like a deer frozen in headlights.
"There were times when I regretted my choice."
Your heart sinks. You know Lucifer doesn't have the best opinion of you, you are pretty sure you are nothing more than a coward in his eyes, just a human to take care of for a year. A responsibility.
"But I made the right choice in choosing you." Lucifer smiles, and it is an expression full of warmth, unlike anything you've seen before.
"H-How?" You question, utterly bewildered and confused. "I thought you—that you—"
"That you had no value in my eyes." The man cuts you off, and you flinch. "That I had no respect for you." Your hands tremble, not knowing where this conversation is leading to. The door is right in front of you, maybe if you just excused yourself—
Yet another part wants to stay. Remain and listen to the demon. Lucifer's voice is soft. "I was wrong about you," He admits, smiling softly. "For you are someone to be respected."
?!
"Ever since the day I saw you in the Devildom, I assumed that you would be another hassle, another responsibility to take care of. And observing you during your first week here, didn't exactly put a decent impression of you in my mind."
You gape at the man, waiting for him to continue.
"You ran away from me in the underground tomb, and yet you went up the stairs that I stated were forbidden. I have seen you struggling with coursework, thrust into a new environment which you did not consent to have been put into..." He places a hand under his chin. "In hindsight, I should have been more understanding of your situation. I was the one to bring you here and you even got killed because of my mistake.."
"Don't say that."
He sighs, his shoulders sagging, and you've never seen Lucifer look more defeated.
"I have seen you grow. I assumed you were weak, a coward, and yet you grew and overcame your fears. You have helped me and my family immensely, and all I did was get in your way." He says, and your heart aches. "I've been cruel."
A sob chokes your throat.
"I am proud of you for what you have done and achieved, and I can never make enough reparations for what you had to suffer. But I swear I will prevent anything like this from occurring again." He gets up, suddenly, startling you. "And I offer you my pact as promise and as gratitude."
And as you watch, the Morningstar gets on his knees in front of you.
"Control over me as your demon, and you my Master," He mumbles. "Will you allow me the honour of making a pact with you?"
When Lucifer gazes at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes, you have to blink back tears.
"Y-Yes."
The firstborn bows his head. "You will never have to fear me again." He swears. "And I will give you a reason to believe." And with that, you feel infernal magic flowing through your veins. A burst of energy so intense that it raises your heartbeat and makes you close your eyes momentarily.
When you open them again, you feel powerful.
For you have command over the Morningstar himself.
"Thank you," You whisper, placing your hand atop his own.
Satan has seen the way you carry yourselves now at RAD, an invisible presence amongst the crowd of chattering demons. Withdrawn and downcast. Despite the pacts, you were murdered.
He's seen you fall and rise, unwavering determination as you gathered courage and spoke up for yourself. Improved yourself and went against Diavolo, the literal Prince who few dared to oppose. You went back in time for all of them, and what did that get you?
Death.
But now you can barely muster any courage to even look him in the eye. Lucifer and Belphegor have made their pacts with you too in penance and forgiveness, but that is not enough to help the trauma inflicted upon you.
Satan doesn't know what to say now, seeing your downcast gaze and the way you tremble when Belphegor is near. He's seen you rise and fall, and seeing you destroyed makes Satan realise that he and his brother are all responsible for what happened to you. He loves you too; for seeing you strive to improve and overcome the fear that is justifiably humane, and observing you grow reminds Satan of himself.
But you've fallen down and been killed.
Therapy, he concludes one week before you're supposed to leave. It is perhaps the best option for you.
And all that on Diavolo's dime.
Lucifer and Satan had worked it out all together, and the Prince had readily agreed. He knew what would happen, and yet he allowed it.
One life in exchange for peace and order.
It sounds simple, but when you realise the weight it carries you can't bring yourself to do it. The man is a Prince, and with that title comes responsibilities and power more than anyone could fathom.
But did it give him the right to put you in a completely different realm and place an unwanted burden on your shoulders?
He muses, late at night when the moon is at its brightest. When he can't sleep, and the dark circles in the morning will surely concern Barbatos who won't hold back on a lecture.
But some questions won't stop bothering him.
Do you hate him?
Would you have hated him?
For what he's done to you?
Was he making the right choices?
Was he trying enough?
But he's still learning, still observing, still growing. He never lies.
And Diavolo doesn't ever want such a circumstance to occur. When he felt infernal magic radiating from you, so intense and of a magnitude that only the firstborn could muster, the Prince knew what had happened.
Pacts with the seven avatars.
Command over them.
Could....would you have forged one with him, if possible? Would you want to? He wants to ask, and yet Diavolo knows he can't make one even if you were willing.
Not yet.
But he'll work towards ensuring a world where he can.
#whats up im back#long break eh#obey me#shall we date obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me angst#obey me fluff#conflict#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me leviathan#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me satan#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon
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Sinners. (Stalker!San x You)
•TRIGGER WARNING•
Warning(s): Semi Non-Con, sadism, masochism, fear kink, hair play, head shaving, complete submission, humiliation, degradation, anal, camera play, piercing, denial, chastity, Psycho!San, twisted and dark fucked up shit. Read at your own risk. You've been warned. This isn't for everyone. It is purely fiction and doesn't reflect any individual's behavior nor does it encourage it.
It was early in the morning and she was about to go to college in an hour. But instead of running around having breakfast, getting ready and making sure she had her assignments ready, Y/n was standing in front of her mirror, eyes closed as she touched her pussy and touched an electric razor to her head, imagining what it'd feel like if it was on and an imaginary 'Master' was forcefully shearing her. Like a sheep. "Ahh... Master… please..." The girl let a whimper fall from her lips, having no idea that the curtains of her room were open and someone could watch her through the window.
"Fuck…" The man standing outside, behind the PCO booth on the sidewalk outside Y/n's apartment complex whispered to himself, feeling his jeans tighten. Taking a picture of the girl before switching it to video mode, planning to send her the photo later. It had been a while now. Maybe a bit more than a while. He was ready and sure now, unable to wait anymore.
San had to have Y/n now.
He had to claim her rightfully his. Or, he felt like he'd lose his mind now. Just watching the pretty girl wasn't enough anymore. He wanted to touch her, feel her, tell her, that he knew… He knew that she wasn't as innocent as she made herself look in front of the people that knew her. That she was actually a hormonal little dirty girl. And whilst nobody knew that nasty side of her, he did. The thought made the man feel powerful. In control. Like he had a claim over Y/n.
There was no way in hell that she wasn't made for him.
Y/n got done with masturbating and packed up before going to college, having no idea that she had a stalker. The girl spent her usual regular day at college, having no idea of the storm that was coming.
.
San knew Y/n were in class and that’s exactly when he wanted to send her the photo he took. A sick smirk made its way on his face and he took his phone out, sending it with the caption, 'having fun there?' He knew where she sat, a lone desk by one of the windows in this classroom, the spot he was standing in providing him a clear view of her face. Yes. The man had all the information he could gather about her memorized by heart.
Y/n was drifting off when she suddenly felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, peeking at the Professor sneakily, the girl took it out and unlocked it only to choke on her breath before starting to cough, making some heads turn which caused her to put the device in her hand away to prevent it getting seized. Her blood ran cold and skin paled.
What the fuck just happened?!
San patiently waited for the female to exit her college, her being earlier than the usual time today, however. The man grinned deviously as he texted her again once she passed by him in a hurry, his taller figure getting up to follow her.
'Will you give that show again? Would you like someone to shave your hair off? That’s what gets you off right?' It shamelessly read, making her tremble.
Y/n started to rush towards her house as she didn't live too far away from her college, not having to use any vehicle because it was barely a 10 minute walk as she nervously glanced around. She was quite twisted herself. And so, a dark part of her mind thought... things, making her start to shudder as tears welled up in self hatred. She hated the soft pounds in her southern region, overpowering the thump of her heart ringing in her ears as she reached the building and rushed in.
'What's the rush for, Princess? Are you so eager to touch yourself again? Tsk. Are you horny? Knowing someone is watching you?' San was absolutely sick in the head. Chuckling at his own text, he bit his lip and hit send.
Y/n was shaking as she read the message. Yes. In her fantasies this was… thrilling, exciting, pussy throbbing and she'd like to play like this with her top but… a legit stalker? She wasn't THAT fucked. Or so the girl belived, at least. Rushing to the curtains after locking the front door, the girl drew them while trying to catch someone's glance outside but no luck.
San had mastered the art of hiding as he watched her. It wasn't like this was new or anything.
Y/n felt hopeless. She couldn't even call the cops! What would the girl show them as evidence?! She didn't want to tell or show them this! Her filthiest desire.
The 21 year old was having a mental breakdown! All her savings were in this college. She could not run away, didn't have any friends because Y/n was a foreigner and the people of this country were rather hostile to any outsiders. Couldn't go back home because she had run away from there, which was a hell in itself, when she had received her acceptance letter.
'Aww come on now!' Her phone pinged again, and then again. 'You can’t keep the fun all to yourself!'
The realisation felt like a bucket of ice cold water everytime she was reminded of it. The person had seen her masturbating and that to the fucking… razor! They knew her fantasies and at that the darkest ones! She couldn't even text them back asking him who it was! The girl was simply too embarrassed to! What if it were someone she knew in her college or around the apartment complex!
It was a dark day and it started raining. Y/n felt tears streaming down her face as her heart beat never slowed down, more terror filling her as everything outside got dark and thunder struck.
Maybe she should call the cops... No one else would help a foreigner… She just knew it. Nobody liked college students especially that lived alone because they were 'reckless' and often lied to get a good laugh out of the elders with their friends. So no one really opened their door for a student they didn't know personally.
But what would she tell the cops?! They ask for evidence!
Meanwhile, San stood on the spot he had found. Even if it was literally the end of the world, he'd still be there. Always. She was his and he had to have her all to himself. There was no other way. The man wasn't exactly sure how he'd do it but he’ll find a way.
.
Y/n called the cops at last when she started suspecting someone's presence outside her apartment. Or window… she wasn't sure anymore. And the loud thunder outside didn't help her situation. Dialing the police the scared girl told them she was afraid someone was stalking her and needed an officer for security right now. i Telling them about the texts and deciding to leave the nasty parts out, she sighed in somewhat relief when they informed that they will send an officer on the way. The student grabbed a water from the fridge and sat on the couch, taking huge gulps while trying to calm down.
Finally.
It only took some minutes before there was a knock on the door. A nervous Y/n looked through the peep hole to only cry out in relief when she saw the uniform through it. "Oh! Thank God, officer! Thank you so much! You're here!" She was overjoyed. "Thank you! I- I am so scared!" A weak sob left her. "Please come in!"
The officer looked around the house, nodding. "I need you to calm down, miss. Tell me everything. We are here with you." His tone was professional. His name plate read 'Park Seonghwa'.
"I- I have a stalker! I don't know how!" Y/n quickly locked the door after he stepped in. "Not many people like me because I am a foreigner! I don't know if it's someone from college troubling me o- on purpose or what... B- But they've been sending me some really p- personal stuff..." She looked up at him innocently, scared.
The dark haired man hummed and nodded. "Do you maybe know the number? Have you noticed any suspicious activity around you before? Is there someone who has a motive to do this?"
"N- No... I got the first text today... I- I am really scared... I've got no one here... W- What do I do?" She told him all of it, hoping that the culprit he caught as soon as possible so she could go back to her life where she was a nobody. No one knew her and she was just another face among many others..
"Alright. We’ll keep a close eye on you. Within this period, try not to hang out too much, yeah? It is best to come directly home after college. And call us on this number if you suspect anything." He wrote a number on a paper and handed it to the shaky girl.
"Oh... Alright officer... thank you..." She saved the number gladly. And since he was supposed to stay with her to ensure the girl's safety, they sat down and Y/n awkwardly turned the TV on. Oh she never had a guy in her apartment before.
.
After getting used to the feeling of safety, Y/n got up after a while, finally having calmed down as she felt hungry. Cooking some dinner for two people, she went and handed the officer one of the two plates. "You've been here since evening... Please eat." She politely smiled, softly blushing from the embarrassment. The girl was too soft, continuously thanking him like it wasn't his job.
"You're a true hero..." She giggled and sat on the other couch, totally not thinking about how handsome he was. Before a sigh left her as she was reminded of the situation. "Officer... What will happen to my stalker when you catch him...?" He knew her darkest secrets. "I am really afraid... They mentioned some... things... very private... things..." The girl finally confessed.
“Mind telling me those things, miss? It will help us with his punishment. The more detail, the better” he placed his plate down, grabbing his pen and notepad.
"O- Officer... I uh..." Y/n gulped. "I- I can't..." She felt ashamed
“Why not? We should know so we can sentence him longer in the court. This is not okay. And you’re a foreigner. So it may also come under bullying.” His tone was soft and assuring as he looked at her, concerned.
It took the student a bit of persuasion before she spoke, hanging her head low and fingers fidgeting in her lap. "I... I was being naughty with myself... A- And they took p- pictures from my window... A- And taunted me about my... p- preferences, s- sir..." She put her own plate on the table now.
The man only hummed, nodding in an understanding manner. “That’s such a disgusting thing for him to do…” Before the man continued. “You shouldn’t do those nasty things while your windows are open either, Miss… You never know who will be watching.”
Y/n was blushing hard as her cheeks felt extremely hot. "I am sorry, s- sir... I won't do it again..." She couldn’t help but reply obediently. Her sub side sometimes got the best of her.
Besides… The officer was so handsome... It wasn’t helping her situation here.
.
A few hours later when it was bedtime and Y/n went to sleep in her room after taking care of her assignments and on the work she missed at school today, the officer got comfy on the couch. He was going to be here until tomorrow morning. Unless something happened. The girl was so tired she fell asleep easily, feeling protected and warm despite the terrible weather outside.
It was really late at night when Y/n woke up to a phone call.. "Hello?" It was the police, informing her that the officer that had been sent to her house had a bad ‘accident’ on the way and whether she still needed an officer.
The girl’s eyebrows at first in confusion before it sunk in and her blood ran cold as the phone fell from her shaking hands. At the same time she felt someone next to her. On the fucking bed. Pure terror filled her and she slowly turned to look at the relaxed figure dressed in the uniform. A shaky cry left her as she started trembling, literally mortified.
“Tsk... The stupid cops ruined the fun.” His voice was nowhere near that gentle and warm comforting voice now. Instead a low and deep hiss filled with nothing but mock.
.
San's eyebrows were frowned when he saw the cop car pulling up. "Oh no... you did not, Princess." The male smirked and shook his head slowly as he noted that it was only one officer. Moving through the shadows, he pulled out his blade from the pocket of his pants, expertly swirling it around in his hand and toying with it like he usually did. "Now, let’s see why do you need the officer, babygirl" his voice was barley a whisper as he made his way over to the car.
San was always so slick with his movements, catching the non-existent sounds of his figure were barely audible to the human ear. Before the officer could even realise there was someone around, the male had banged his head against one of the entrance walls of the low rent cheap apartment building, dragging him into the darkness with him before stealing his clothes and then dumping his body in the river along his car.
It didn't even take him long. He was fast, accurate in his calculations and confident in his abilities. "Now, to my Princess' rescue" chuckling to himself as he climbed the stairs, pinning the nameplate reading 'Park Seonghwa' on his breast pocket before ringing the bell to her apartment.
.
"The real fun is only starting" San sang as he pinned her down on the bed, holding her wrists tight above her head. "You have no idea how many nights I've watched you touch that bitchy cunt of yours." His hard bulge rubbed against her thigh.
An astonished Y/n was trembling, warm piss suddenly starting to leak out of her in pure terror as her heart threatened to burst out of the skin of her chest. Oh no! Is that what she thought this was?! It took her brain a few moments to understand it as the realisation sunk in like a ton of bricks. "Y- You... You're... You..." She could only whisper, eyes widened to the shape of saucers as an evil grin made its way on his features.
As San felt the bed getting warm, he started laughing at the girl condescendingly. "Look at you! Pissing yourself like a baby! How pathetic and disgusting! Did you really think anyone would help you, tsk?" He loved how she was shaking, the glow of her skin caused by the little droplets of sweat, her heartbeat that he could literally feel and the terror in her eyes.
Y/n started crying, the piss not stopping as it pooled inside her thighs. "Y- You're... You're the... stalker…" She whispered, still in disbelief as to how he managed that. "H- How did... How did you..." Oh God. Oh no.
The storm outside was so loud that screaming for help would just be in vain. It was so late no one would even be up...
"Baby, just like you said… I’m the stalker… I know everything about you…" His tone was sensual as he started kissing up the soft skin of her neck, moaning from how soft and delicate it felt. "Fuck! Your skin is even softer than i- it looks…" San felt himself twitch.
The girl was trembling as she slowly put it all together, staring at the ceiling as a feeling of despair and hopelessness filled her. "Y- You were p- pretending a- all this time! You're not the officer!" Adrenaline filled her as she kneed his cock, swiftly turning on her stomach and crawling off the bed before rushing out of the room. Nobody could hear the commotion. It was too loud outside.
"FUCK! YOU BITCH!" San yelled before laughing loudly. He loved this. Finally something enjoyable in his once lone and bland life. Holding his crotch, the male after her to catch the girl before she got away, catching her easily. "Where do you think you’re going?!" A smack landed on her face as punishment for what she did.
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! Y- YOU CREEPY BASTARD!" Oh she would be getting a lot of beating for this! "H- HOW DARE YOU STALK ME A- AND THEN ENTER MY HOUSE! ILL R- REPORT YOU!" As she reached out to my table to hit him with something, her hand so conveniently ended up grabbing the razor and swung it back, going to hit him with it on the head.
San laughed tauntingly and caught her arm before she could hit him and shook his head, sighing. "Now now, isn’t this the razor you were holding when you played with that tiny little cunt of yours?" The shiny object dangled in his hand.
"P- PLEASE!" She remembered the text he'd sent her. "PLEASE! I- I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT DON'T DO THIS! PLEASE! I BEG YOU!" Y/n had no idea what to say.
"Aww sweetie…" His words were soft. Almost. "Keep your begs for the time when I'll be pounding that dirty little pussy of yours." San held her hands above her head. "You like to be owned, huh? You like to serve your Master and show everyone how much of an obedient little whore you are?"
Y/n was crying harder now, afraid because she didn't know what was going to happen. "N- No! Please no! It's not true! P- Please just let me go! I- I don't want to!" Oh but she had a being kidnapped and raped fantasy. She loved the thought of someone dangerous, like San, terrifying her and fucking her, making her into his cockwhore. And he knew it. She wanted it all. The girl loved the fear and force. But all of it actually happening was something she'd never thought of. "Please! Let me go!" How could it? A whole fantasy becoming true?
"Oh please, my little slut! Let’s not fool ourselves here. I know you love the thrill of this, I know you LOVE getting used like a worthless little toy and I will give you what you want. You can try to resist me all you want but you’ll never get away from me. You're mine. I'll always catch you. You're mine and belong with me." Her eyes were on the razor as she kept thinking about the text he'd sent.
Y/n tried to reach out of his iron strong hold and snatch the razor from him. "Nu-uh…" San sang out as he held the object above him. "What if I shaved your head while I’m destroying that slutty pussy, huh? Would you like that you little whore?"
"No! NO! NO PLEASE!" Oh… But she felt wetness trickling down her leg. Oh no.
"My my!" The man chuckled darkly. "What’s this?" He swiped a finger up her bare thigh. "God, you’re such a pathetic whore, trying to fool yourself by saying no but I know you’re enjoying this. How stupid and dumb. Stupid slut!" His free hand smacked her face before grabbing her hands again.
"N- No! No! Please stop! This i- isn't what it looks like!" Before she somehow broke free again, this time biting his hand before she managed to reach the door, trying to unlock it but her hands were sweaty and cold, fingers literally frozen as she struggled to open the locks, cursing when they kept slipping against the metal.
San pushed Y/n up against the door with the most force he could come up with and pounced himself on her, letting his hard cock feel up her ass. "Don’t fight it anymore." And with that, he pulled her pj shorts down and turned her around before spreading her legs and pushed her up against the door, unclothing his cock and aligning his tip against her vagina before forcefully thrusting into her without warning before moaning loudly, throwing his head back. "God! Such a tight little nasty cunt!" San moaned and kissed along her neck, feeling like he'd go crazy from how delicate and nice her skin tasted.
The girl moaned loudly in pain, a warm stream of blood trickling down the man's monster cock. "O- Oh my God!" A sick part of her wondered if he would also shave her head and face... "I- IT BURNS!" A scream tumbled out of her lips.
"Oh… You were a virgin? Such a nasty little thing. Everyone thinks you’re an innocent little girl but in reality, you’re just a needy little bitch! Needy for cock! All the time!" He picked her up and carried the girl back to her room while still keeping his cock in her before plugging the razor in. "Come here!"
Oh yes. Oh no! Oh… She was having a battle with herself. Did she want this or did she not want this?! "PLEASE... S- SIR..." Please yes or please no...? She didn't even know what was happening anymore. This was fucking crazy. Her stalker who had done God knows what to the cop and had entered her house after watching her for who knew how long. The stalker that had a private photo of her and she didn't even know how many other materials. And now was on top of her like this...
"Please what, babydoll?" San pulled her in and kissed the soft trembling lips roughly, loving how good she tasted and felt.
Y/n cried against his lips, the man's huge cock still in her wet and tight walls. "I- I am scared! P- People will laugh!" Was that the only thing she cared about?
"So you want me to, but scared people will laugh?" San smirked while pushing his hips back and forth, moaning with each thrust. "Let them laugh, that will turn you on even more because you love getting humiliated. I know you too well, baby.”
Y/n had faced such rejection and hostility her whole life from different people she had trusted with her safety from time to time… this was driving her crazy. Her messy emotions got the best of her at the end of it. Her breaths were heavy. "Y- You're right... You know me so well..." She started speaking his language. "Y- You want me? O- Or you'll leave me too?" This was wrong; sick.
“No. I am staying by your side and you’re staying by me. I’ve wanted you for so long... you have no idea.” He groaned at how good she felt, biting back the whimpers threatening to fall out of his lips from the pleasure. “You have no idea just how many nights I have jerked off thinking it was your tiny little pussy, hugging my cock as you moaned and begged me for more, slut.”
The girl blushed, feeling like she was dreaming. This felt perfect… at least to her troubled mind. "You're crazy... You're scary... You made me piss myself out of pure…” She whispered slowly, a small smile making its way on her lips. “...P- Please own me... P- Please shave me... my head and face... make me look like a dumb slut... s- sir... Your dumb slut..." Her shaky hand turned the razor on for him, pussy suddenly clenching around him as she finally acknowledged the pleasure it was receiving, a soft moan escaping her.
“Mmm... that’s my good slut” San hummed and praised, taking the now on machine and placing it against her hairline before running it down the top of her head, both of them moaning, Y/n from the feeling and San from the sight of the sight of now small bristles between her locks as his hips pushed in and out even faster.
The man now shaved off another strip from the spot besides the previously shaved one, humming as he remembered something and took the machine to her eyebrows first and pressed it against the skin, feeling himself hit her g-spot as her eyes rolled to the top of her head, mouth falling open as the male erased the hair above her eyes.
"Yes, s- sir! Please make me your good slut! I- I love you! I'll never leave you! Please never leave me, Master!" She started crying out of joy, kissing his hands as her unstable emotions made her feel absolute joy. He had accepted her as she truly was. In her darkest form. “Please write funny things o- on my skinhead when you’re done. I am a dumb whore!” To her, there wasn’t a man more great than him.
“Fuck yes… That you are.” San grunted as he started to shear the rest of her long locks like one would to a sheep. “You are my dumb little slut who will do nothing but serve her Master from now on!” His free hand landed a smack on her head which was showing up more and more, nothing but thin stubble covering the skin.
"Yes I will, Master! Please! Please treat me like trash!" Y/n clenched around him, near to cumming. “Trash that was born to take your cock! You're so good to me! I wish you'd snuck in my house this morning and raped me right there! I wish you'd have shaved my head and forced me to go to college like that! It would have been a pleasure to be humiliated like that and by you!” She was literally crying out of pleasure
“Oh..” The man chuckled while panting. “I will force you to go like this baby, don’t worry.” He promised as he snapped his hips even faster, feeling himself getting close from the sight and all her filthy confessions. “And I will wake you up by fucking you every morning, making you a mess and sending you off to college like that.” It was done, the only hair on the girl’s head slight messy stubble that he’d remove with a hand razor later to reveal the skin underneath.
"Yes, please! Please always only force me and rape me! Please keep me bald! Keep me at your feet! Please feed me your piss and cum! I want to be your hand and footrest! I want to be an object for you to fuck! A bitch for you to breed! Your little animal! I JUST WANT TO BE YOURS! I WANT TO BE THE DIRT UNDER YOUR FEET!" She was sobbing as she started cumming hard, her tiny body spasming in pleasure while holding one of San's hands because it was her first time cumming from sex.
Y/n wrapped her arms around him from the intensity of it and kissed him while he played with her tits, pinching her nipples painfully as he kissed the girl back and let her ride out her high before pulling out. “On your knees!” San kept pumped himself until he came all over the girl’s pretty face and mouth. “That’s my good little cumdumpster.”
She smiled and started to kiss his cock and hands in respect, then his balls. Y/n really had truly submitted. "You're perfect, Master! Where have you been all my life?!" A pout made its way on her lips as she whined, hugging his leg and kissing it, not daring to go further up out of fear.
San was satisfied with her behavior. “I’m here now baby… And I am never leaving.” He kissed the younger one and slapped her ass lightly after helping her get up. “Lets get cleaned, doll.”
"Master, I wanna drink your piss." She shamelessly told him, not standing up, taking his cum off her face with her hand and greedily sucking at it. "A- And I wanna kiss your feet!" She was way too eager for this.
The man chuckled at her request. “You want to drink my piss? Then open up, my whore.” San held his cock over her mouth before putting pressure on his bladder, whimpering before the hot stream hit her lips.
Y/n was obediently on her knees drinking all of it after cringing at the taste a little, moaning happily. It was her first time drinking anyone's piss. She was in heaven. She finally had an owner! The girl made sure not one drop went to waste. "Thank you so much, Master! It is amazing!" The younger one stopped drinking and let his piss wet her face before starting to kiss his feet, fully in her subspace.
“You’re such an obedient little girl.” San praised, not being able to hold back the smile as he watched her, never having imagined her willingly being like this for him in such a short time period. But then again, he wasn’t surprised. “Good girl.” He cooed patting her head.
Y/n desperately kissed his hand and grabbed it, starting to cry. "M- Master... everyone leaves me... P- Please don't leave me... I- I'll die!" She almost promised him, nothing short of a maniac. Maybe she was even more twisted than San, in a way
“I’ll never leave you, you’re mine and everyone will know that.” Cupping her cheeks, he passionately kissed her, already making plans in his head about how he will modify all of her features as his perfect little pet.
The girl giggled, sucking at his lips greedily. "Master! Your piss was on my face!" She tried to get it off. "Give it back! Ish mine!" Huffing, she lapped at his piss like a needy little bitch.
San chuckled from her antics and swiped his fingers on the pretty face before holding them up against her lips. “Open up…” He let her suck on the piss covering his fingers. “Fuck... you’re so perfect for me.”
Holding his arm like a child, Y/n started sucking on his fingers greedily, smiling. "Thank you, Master!" Before she made his fingers hit the back of her throat, making herself gag and loving it all. "Mashter Mashter! Whatsh your name?" The girl questioned while deep throating his fingers.
“It’s San, baby.” The man replied with a smile, watching her choke on his fingers, her warm drool trickling down his long fingers.
"Shan! Ish sho pretty! I am Y/n!" Letting go of his hand, she hugged him which was returned with a chuckle.
“I know, babygirl.”
"M- Mashter... I- I dunno why b- but... I- I shaw a video too a- and I want you to s- shove my shaved hair u- up my assh and i- in my mouth... a- and take picturesh... Hehe I am sho naughty!" His eyebrows raised as she hid in his chest, a smirk forming on his lips.
San patted her messily shaved head. “Yes. You are, baby. You’re fucking naughty but okay. Daddy is here to help his little girl with all her little disgusting whore fantasies.”
"Y- You wanna?" Before she chirped again. "Mashter I want to be owned like an object a-nd like an animal! I wanna be like a p- piggy! A- And I want you to b- beat me and whip me e- everywhere a- and I wanna be bruished! A- And I want to be raped all the time!" She was too fucking sick and twisted but now that she wasn’t afraid of being judged, she was letting all that was locked deep down out.
“If that’s what you want, then I’ll treat you like one, baby.” San said before chuckling to himself, still in disbelief of just how fucked up she really was.
"A- And I want you to fuck my bummie and not let me cum for monthsh! I wanna be forshed to wear chashtity! I want you to make me cry and beg but you don't give in and only torture me more!" She told him. "Pleashe alwaysh shlap me and my head!"
“Fuck... you’re so naughty baby… I love it.” San almost moaned from the sight before getting a chunk of her shaved hair and shoved it in her mouth before getting his phone and taking pics of her all stuffed and messily bald like that.
The twisted girl smiled in the pictures and eagerly nodded, turning her fat ass in front of him now. "Please put hair in assh too!" She struggled to speak, smiling and posing for all of the pictures.
San actually wanted to take a video of him shoving hair up her ass and so that was what he simply did, laughing. “Look at this disgusting little dumb cock whore! So slutty and needy! Loving to be humiliated and looked like a dumb fucktoy by her owner!” He spat on her.
"Yesh I am! Yesh I am!" Y/n spoke with difficulty, showing her stuffed face and head too, arching her back, imagining herself a beauty goddess of her own kind. "My lobely mashter shaved me! And ish gonna treat me like hish trash and look! I habe hair up my assh! And in my fashe! I've got no eyebrowsh!"
“My good little slave… All mine… So submissive” San praised, kicking her ass in the camera and chuckling at her squeak, watching her clench the hair up when her pucker winked. “You’re really loving this, aren’t you?” Lifting her face, he spat on her forehead.
"I ammmm~" she whined, face red before starting to try to rub her cunt against the floor.
“Look at her trying to desperately rub her slutty cunts on the floor…” He filmed it all. Fuck. He loved seeing Y/n all dirty and submissive for him.
Drool was dripping down her chin and boobs. "Yesh Mashter! O- Onwy fow yoooouuu~" a needy whimper left her.
“Mmm... yes, only for me” San spoke and slapped her hard which the girl loved, getting even more wet and kissing his hands. "I- I... cum pleashe..." She whimpered again, loving the control she was in.
“No... get up.” San warned sternly. “You’re not allowed to cum, you’re never allowed to cum.”
"B- But... M- Mashter..." The girl pouted and whined, having forgotten that she was the one that told him that she wanted him to never let her cum and torture her like that.
“Are you talking back to your Master?” Raising an eyebrow, he gripped her chin before slapping her, making sure it was all being recorded so he could fuck her to it later.
Her pussy tingled. “N- No! No Mashtew owwiieee…” The hair in her ass and mouth tickled humiliatingly.
"That’s what I thought" San husked and threw the phone on the bed before pushing her on the carpet again. "Tell me when you’re close."
"M- Mashtewwww" Y/n started crying like a little baby, shaking and dropping the hair from her mouth because it was getting hard to breathe.
"Did I say you could drop the hair?!" The man growled darkly before pushing the hair back in. "Breathe through your nose, dumb slut!"
The girl let out a cry, trembling and sobbing as she nodded. He was rough. It was making her cry. But she also loved it and felt wet. "Yesh!" She loved being at Master's mercy.
"Good girl." He said pushing her down on the carpet more. "Rub yourself nice and hard slut." Y/n started rubbing herself as he ordered, feeling the carpet burn against her pussy but she couldn't help but love it, biting her bottom lip through her stuffed mouth. Oh… She loved it so much. The girl wanted it to bleed almost… Reaching out to hold his hand, the girl spoke. "You're sho perfect... I wish I'd m- met you when I wash l- little..."
"I wish that too baby, fuck... I’d fuck you every night while your parents were peacefully sleeping in the next room…"
"Y- You'd fuck me when I wash a little baby?" This was fucking revolting and twisted. They were both utterly sick. Y/n kept moaning loudly and getting wetter, rubbing harder and harder. "Y- Your fat cock i- in my toothlessh mouth... AHHH... I wouldn't need miwk... You'd have fed me your Mashtew milk fwom youw cock..."
"Fuck yes!" He growled as he felt himself getting hard. "Yes baby… I'd feed you my cum every day. You'd have grown up getting your nutrients from it, eh?"
"Daddy... Daddy... You'd be my Daddy? But inshtead of miwk you'd feed me youw cum evewyday? Ish the besht miwk!" She was very close and her eyes fluttered shut when he started playing with her tits and pinched her nipples before pulling at them. "Then I'd say I grew up drinking Mashtew's cock miwk! Hehehe!" The girl was too far gone.
"God, yes! You’re such a filthy and sick whore!" San knew she were close so he pulled her up. "No cumming!" It made the girl whine loudly and she fell on her face.
"Mashtewwwwww!" Before she curled in his feet, calming down a little when he didn't give in and ripped her pussy away from the carpet. "M- Mashtew... p- pleashe may I wemove haiw now...?" It was getting stuck to her mouth.
"Yes. You may, my little cum rag." The male wanted to use her mouth and feed her his cum so he allowed.
Y/n dropped it and quickly cleaned her tongue and inside of the cheeks with her tiny hands. "Bleg... hehe~" she curled in his waist, rubbing her tiny head against his chest.
"Good girl~" he patted her head before pushing her back in position. "Now use that mouth good baby…" San pushed his cock down her narrow throat, loving how tight and warm she was, making her gag from the rush of it in an instant.
The girl gagged but enjoyed it, loving it all. She quickly started sucking his cock, grazing her teeth against it and swirling her tongue. Y/n had watched all that porn for a reason. Kissing his balls, she sucked on them, whimpering from how his private hair tickled her nose.
"Fuck! look at you! Sucking on master’s cock like a starved bitch!" He slapped her again, feeling his shape against the skin of her cheeks. "You love it, don’t you?!"
"Yesh! Yesh! Yesh!" She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed her head up and down his shaft, sucking and whining as San rubbed the top of his foot against her pussy, smacking her bald head before pushing his cock all the way down her throat, tightly clasping the back of her head.
The man groaned loudly as he twitched in the soft walls of her throat, washing her throat with his hot semen before cleaning her up and finally shaving her head fully until there was nothing but glossy skin left before they went to bed.
"I have shchool tomorrow... Mashter do you go to shchool?" Y/n yawned as she snuggled into San's built chest, whimpering and smiling whenever the realisation of who he was hit her.
She loved being owned.
"No I don't. I will be right here when you come back, my pretty slut." San said while kissing her softly like he hadn't unleashed his sadistic likes on her.
"Why don't you go to school?" She suddenly pouted. "Then how will Mashter have a career?! You'll be poow! I dun wan poow Mashtew!" Y/n huffed brattily. She didn't really care about that, only wanting to see his response because she loved to piss off her top.
"You don’t really have a choice, sweetheart." The male gritted out. "You’re stuck with me forever. If I am living on the streets, you’re living with me."
She opened her mouth to brat but the bell rang. Rushing to the door, Y/n opened it to reveal a police officer. "Oh... hi..." The officer smiled a bit at her and asked the girl if she still needed an officer and why she had hung up when they called. "O- Oh no officer... I was just being paranoid... It wasn't anyone..." Y/n's cheeks blushed because she could see the officer was staring at her shiny bald head and eyebrows. Feeling herself getting wet as humiliation made her blush, Y/n found herself wondering what it'd feel like if he smacked her on her head. The girl's nipples got hard.
But oh... she couldn't cum!
"Okay then, be careful, Miss." He tipped her hat, nodding a little before walking off.
Y/n felt so wet. "Have a good night, officer!" A giggle left her as the man disappeared, starting to rub herself against the door up and down, running her hand against her head.
"Now, what was that?!" San deeply spoke, pushing the girl against the door, making her head hit against it embarrassingly. "Did you forget who alone can make you wet?!" The male yelled before slapping her. "You sick little exhibition loving whore! Not even you can do what you like to yourself! You're all mine! Only I can do whatever I please to your whore body!"
"Yes... You... You sir!" Y/n closed her eyes and held her hands above her head, lowering it for him to slap. "Please hit my head... Ugh... fuck me up... I want my head to be bruised... Ugh fuck! I am so wet... Please beat me!"
"What a disgusting little trash!" The man laughed, slapping her head this time. "You love people making fun of you, huh?"
"Yes I do! Yes I do!" She whined. "PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE make fun of me! Humiliate me! Hit me and bruise me! Make fun of me! Humiliate and degrade me! I want my whole college to laugh at me!" A loud cry left her.
"Let’s get you bruised up, then." San decided and started slapping the girl's tiny head and face until it was all red and sore. Y/n was crying by the time he was done, literally sobbing as she just fell on her knees and knocked out of exhaustion, her owner carrying her to the bed and then laying next to her knocked out form.
"Good night, my love." The male kissed her soft and red cheek before falling asleep too, holding her fragile body close to his, his slumber calm and satisfying today after so long.
.
Y/n stirred as she felt her pussy being invaded the next morning, making her stir as she felt lips upon her own and fingers pinching her nipples as her other boob was being groaped, her pussy expanding and sucking in a huge cock. San's huge cock. "M- Master~!" She whispered out when her eyes flew open and she was met with San's face. "W- What… s- so early?!"
"I promised you I'd wake you by fucking you every morning, didn't I, my slut?" He grinned and attacked her lips, eliciting an excited gigglish moan out of her as he started to fuck her fast and rough, pushing his balls in all the way.
“Y- Yes! Yes! F- Fuck!” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head from the realisation that he had been fucking her in her sleep before she woke up, feeling him twitch inside her. “M- Master! I- I… c- cum…” Y/n tried to speak, her back arching from the pleasure of him biting on her nipples before smacking her bald head softly.
“Little breeding whores don’t get to cum, baby. They just take cock and let Master use them like the cum rags that they are.” San’s cock slammed in and out of her pussy, his hand gripping her neck for support when she clenched around him. “Fuck! So tight!”
Tears welled up in her eyes as her face got red from how rough his thrusts were, how much her clit was burning for stimulation, how much her ovaries hurt to cum. “Look at this hairless little whore! Unable to even breathe without my permission let alone cum!” He spat in her mouth before turning her around and pushing up her ass, chuckling when she whined out.
“Sorry, slut. Little whores don’t get what they want around here and only please Master as they are supposed to.” Grabbing a sharpie, San started writing on her head whilst choking her with one hand, pounding her harder and harder up her ass. “Hurry up and please your Master well so we can go to an important place before you go to school.”
‘I am a bald little nasty slut. Please hit my head. I love it.’ Was written on the back of her head as the man laughed, deciding to not tell her what he’d done just yet, waiting for her to find out later when the people on campus would be warming that cueball up.
.
Y/n was whimpering as San waved at her and she shakily walked inside her college with a bald head, wearing nothing inside her skirt as she sneakily pushed the slipping ass plug back inside her cum filled ass. Lowering her bald head now that she was outside and people were staring at her new look, the girl gulped and felt herself squeezing her legs when some girl giggled at her.
Fuck… She couldn’t help but bite her lip, loving the humiliation as her cheeks felt hot.
Master had gotten her pussy, septum and nipples pierced before walking her to college. He was going to buy a special leash for that that was going to be passed through all her piercings to ensure she was in his control at all times.
Her train of thoughts was broken when a smack landed on her head by a guy passing by before he chuckled at her shocked expression. Before the girl could question him, she received a text by San. A picture message. Of what was written on the back of her head.
Widening her eyes, Y/n gasped and her hand automatically grazed against her head. No wonder the piercing lady had lightly smacked it before Master and she had laughed at the girl. “N- No… you didn’t…” She whispered in shock before one of her ‘friends’ smacked her head, making it jerk forwards.
“Cute look, Y/n.” Before she walked off to class, the people passing by gave her looks and talked about her.
Fuck… She squeezed her thighs in utter humiliation as the wind blew, making her desperately try to keep her skirt down as wetness trickled down her thigh. The girl wasn’t allowed to touch herself and not cumming was one of the rules now upon Master’s order and her foolish confession. She had a whole day to last before getting home and begging him to let her earn it.
Her ass stuffed, body owned, everyone silently chuckling at her humiliating look and getting smacks to the head like that wasn’t going to help.
“Oh, Master…” She whined to herself in despair. “What have you done?”
.
#san smut#ateez smut#choi san#choi san smut#dark kpop#dark fic#non con#ateez#ateez x you#ateez x reader#san x you#san x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#san
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Ingredients:Shouto Todoroki, Izuku Midoriya
Contains: heavy angst, major character death, sad boys, not really prof read,
Type of order: Coffee (angst) and Macarons (headcanons)
Summary: Like the title says ;)
after he received the news from the hero commission to help out on a deadly mission, everything in his mind went blank
he instantly agreed to do this, to keep the citizens safe and to keep you safe
the hero commission wasn't heartless, so they gave him the last weeks before his departure off
on his way home, he made plans to go with you to a lovely holiday spot to spend your last days together
it was his job, so he was always somehow prepared to die and to sacrifice himself for the nation
he knew you couldn't accept it, so he told you nothing about this mission
he didn't want to tell you about it, but after seeing you after this horrible day, he did
you deserved to know the reason behind all of this and what is happening in the future
"Y/N, love, next week we have to go on a mission, and I won't come back here alive," he told you bluntly.
You stared at him in disbelieve and asked if he could repeat what he just said
After your soul processed the words, you broke down
"They can't do this."
"You can't leave me here."
"I need you."
You cried loudly, and Todoroki hugged you to provide comfort
"How could you agree to this?" you sobbed and punched against his chest
"I need to keep you safe, my love," he whispered in your ear
He teared up, of course, he didn't want to leave you, but he had to provide the safety of all people that was what he signed up for
He let you let out all your emotions and then told you about his plans
"Alright. We can do this."
You two had the greatest holidays of your lifetime
But when the last day arrived, the reality kicked in
Before his departure, both of you didn't sleep
You talked, cried, said everything you wanted to say to each other
"One day I would have married you. Please find someone that can."
"I don't want anyone else than you."
Hours before he had to go, you hugged him tightly
"I don't want to let go." you cried once again
"I don't want to either, but I have to," he said, while hot and cold tears streamed down his rosy cheeks
"I love you more than anything else. Someday we will meet again, love." he sniffed as he kissed you on your forehead.
After he closed the door behind him, your whole world shattered
He was the number one hero by now, and you thought that this day would come
But you never thought it'd come so early
Izuku didn't tell you right up after he received the news
He wrote you a letter
The paper had wet spots, and the ink of his pen was smeared
The last days before he went on this mission, he made a lot of things that you wanted to do your whole life
It was odd, but he often surprised you to show his love for you
On the day he left, you slept peacefully next to him
He watched your sleep, and as the sun beamed through the curtains, he started to cry silently
With a small kiss on your forehead, he vanished to prove that he really was the greatest hero of all time
the news praised him for sacrificing his life for humanity, but you could only press the letter to your chest and cry
My dear Y/N,
words can't describe how much I love you. God, I wish we could have spent eternity together, but this mission was too important. I needed to make sure you and the other citizens are safe. I was the only person that could've saved you. I am deeply sorry for not telling you this, but I didn't want to worry you even more. It was to keep you safe. With your stubbornness, you probably would have tried to replace me or to help with the mission. I couldn't risk your safety. I hope you understand this.
I need to say goodbye to you. Every fiber of my being protest against my next words, but I love you even if I am not around anymore. Please find someone better than me. Someone that makes you smile every day, from sunrise to sunset. Eventually, we will see each other in another lifetime. For now, I have to say goodbye. Never forget that I loved you more than everything else in the world.
Your beloved Izuku Midoriya.
"Oh honey, there will never be anyone that makes me smile as you did. There won't be someone better than anyone. You were the best that ever happened to me." you mumbled quietly into the silence of your house.
#ami writes 🖋#ami's midnight writing#bnha#mha#angst#shoto todoroki#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki angst#todoroki angst#pro hero todoroki#shouto todoroki headcanons#todoroki hcs#izuku midoriya x reader#izuku midoriya#deku#pro hero deku#pro hero izuku#pro hero shouto#izuku midoriya angst#izuku headcanons#izuku hcs#midoriya headcanons#major character death#just pure sadness#ouch#letter#farewell#not prof read
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Tessa ure back and it made me saur happy <3 i always wanna leave a good review but i always struggled a lot hwever this is my fav chapter so ill try!! first i miss yuuu so much. i cant deny i hav my fave writers before tbah came to me. apparantly theyre mia but then i saw ur blog. like the fic itself, u build a home in this hidden world of tumblr. u rebuild a safe space for me xx
i engulfed myself w some bad boy jk fics while waiting to ur update and god my hopes in men almost drowning and thank u for saving it!! secondly,,, despite tbah jaykay not sayying the L word idk i still trust him?? (or maybe bc i trust u) most fics i read were always one sided so it's like walking on an iceberg.. but u gave us assurance by showing his pov so maybe thats why and thank u for that!!
next,,how could u make simple interaction between them so meaningful?! i cant word this right opposing to how u wrote it. but i could really feel the strong emotions they hav between the lines?? gosh i cant thank u enough. im always in awe to ur writing its so smart and every line gave resonance (imagine me putting highlights to all sentencs lmao) aaand! the smut was IMMACULATE..i never visioned "making love" this perfect. very clear, full of romance, u nailed it!
alsoo :(( while reading the fic i hav this thought oc's personality is a reflection of u in rl. i feel guilty for being smitten but i think ure a really sweet person! just like someone i could easily trust my whole life the first time i met them. i hope everything works your way n wishing u always the best <33
anyways.. the journal scene is absolutely my favorite! so lemme leave this scene here-------
“Write about me.” He winks, sending a troop of butterflies straight to your chest, spreading like wildfire all through you – ever so weak for him. You hand him the bag you were previously holding – the one that stores the journal you’d originally bought. “Here.” He grabs it, confused but soft as he smiles. “I don’t know what to write about, though.” You smile, taking one step towards him, closing the distance as you look up at him, eyes indecisive as they scan his own before traveling down to his lips.
You shrug, your gaze growing so sweet. “Me.”
hiiii 🥺 first off, I want to say that this ask felt like a big, warm hug from u to me and I can't even begin to express my gratitude for it. it put such a big smile on my face that I'm unsure ill be able to shake off for the remainder of the day, so thank you so much. I hope you know I'm sending that love right back to you and multiplied.
I love your feedback so much and your name is one I look forward to receiving on my inbox so even if its one sentence or a bunch of paragraphs, please send them if it strikes you <3 thank you. I trust him too!!! I think that something very beautiful happens when we take people out of pedestals and simply accept them as flawed humans - in a way, that's what I want to portray with both jungkook and oc in this story. and even with his parents and anyone that might strike controversy in the storyline at times. a couple of chapters back oc said it herself beautifully, "love is understanding."
its so sweet of you to find me in her - I guess in a way, there's a little bit of me in all of the characters to some extent, whether big or small and oc is one I enjoy writing a lot so it flatters me that you'd say that <3 thank uuuu.
oh man, oh man... that chapter bit really got me too 🥺 I love him so much for that. imagine someone doing that for u!!!! it'd fall in love right then and there hehe.
im so glad u enjoyed!!!! and I truly am sending you so much love and life and a million kisses paired with a million hugs!!!! I love you. I hope you're able to keep finding a safe space in this little corner of the internet. xx
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Thinking About Soriku
While it's no longer my OTP, SoRiku is and likely always will among my favorite KH ships. I admit that part of that is because I went in with a bias, due to a fan comic type thing that I read, prior to finishing the first KH game. After playing the games and seeing the community I shipped it more.
To be completely honest though, I didn't really see the ship outside of THE scenes in KH2 and through that symphony of sorcery scene in DDD. It was when I interacted with the community more that I realized how much there was to the ship. How they pointed out details like Riku technically sharing the paopu with Sora and that being the keychain on the combined keyblade dubbed "the gayblade" by the community. How jealous Riku acted in KH1 while suspiciously being more focused on one-upping sora than actually saving Kairi. How Riku did everything in his power to make sure Sora can come back safely in KH2 and 179 days, and of course the entirety of how their relationship is portrayed in DDD, with how Sora is disappointed with having to be separated from Riku and Riku always talking about Sora with almost nothing but positive things to say. All the other pieces of evidence that could point to hints of romantic attraction. From what I hear, people having a better understanding of the ship after interacting with the community is actually kinda common.
Soriku is one of those ships where the implications are subtle. If you're not looking for it, it's blink and you miss it, outside of a couple of stand-out scenes. If you ARE looking for it, it's extremely obvious to the point of almost coming off as intentional, especially post KH2 if you're looking at it from Riku's pov. I bet it's the work of the event planner:
Here's like, the thing with the community though. It's been at odds with a certain other group of shippers and they go at it A LOT, and it can make the community unbearable to be in sometimes. Not to mention how oversensitive some members of the community can be and how unwilling some of them are to live up to their past. The past of Sorikus being yaoi-obsessed fangirls who wrote and drew smut is real is very real and is a legacy that still lives on, even if it's not as bad as it used to be. There were consequently, children who saw that content. I understand Sorikus not wanting to acknowledge that past because
A. a lot of them consider it something that was a part of their cringy teen years and don't want to acknowledge it
and
B. Many Soriku shippers are genuinely queer and either aren't responsible for that content or fit into the prior category
And to be fair, a lot of the times when Kaisos bring this up, they do tend to have bad intentions and try to dismiss their own homophobic behavior, but at the same time if the yaoi side goes unacknowledged, especially when it comes to the older fan content, then it does seem like we aren't owning up to the fact that some of us are fetishy and it can leave and unwanted mark on the community. Also, yeah, going back to what I said earlier. Some of us are over-sensitive and do have a habit of calling people homophobic for saying that Kairi is Sora's most important person on their own platforms, and that's an issue too.
That being said, despite the community I still like the ship and it is still an S-tier pair for me, not GOD-TIER, but S-tier. When I actually remember how good their relationship is in the series, and good some of the fan content is, I can't bring myself to hate it.
Here's the other thing though. What if it actually happened? What if the series ended with Sora and Riku in an embrace saying that they'll always love and be there for each other, and then a strongly implied off-screen kiss? Regardless of how people feel about it, or what the intentions on Square and Disney's part, Sora and Riku ACTUALLY getting together would be a huge fucking deal. Not just for the KH community but for JRPGs and gaming in general. Hell, it'd be a huge mark in Disney history, as they would be among the few confirmed MAIN LGBTQ+ characters in a Disney property. Because of that people. will. riot. There will be many calling it the product of an agenda. There will be idiots saying that this ruined their childhood (which honestly if THAT's their argument, they didn't have a childhood worth ruining) and there will be people angry at Disney and ALL OF JAPAN for "forcing" children to see homosexual content. Probably giving prejudiced conservatives who like to be controversial, leeway to the yaoi argument as means of racism and homophobia. There's also the question of narrative meaning in Kingdom Hearts. First off there's the obvious, which is the writers will have to address Sora's relationship with Kairi else it feels disingenuous, and that can get messy rather quickly, especially because a lot of Kairi's relevancy is linked to her relationship with Sora. Pairing him with Riku can risk undermining his relationship with Kairi and if she doesn't do anything with Aqua and the other characters, can reduce her down to nothing but wasted potential, nostalgia, a cute design, and a cool backstory. As sad as it is, a big part of her appeal is her romantically coded relationship with Sora.
The series has always been about friendship first and foremost before everything else, even if it does value other types of relationships. Sora and Riku are considered by the creators, to be what the series is all about. What does it say about the power of friendship if the two leading characters were in love the entire time? This is less of a narrative issue with Kairi because she was never portrayed to be Sora's friend. She was always written to be a love interest to him in some way. Whereas with Riku, he was always written to either be Sora's rival, or embarrassingly close "friend", at least on a surface level. Sora and Riku getting together romantically could work to undermine the theme of friendship being the most powerful form of magic. Both Kaisos and Soriku's would probably just say "WELL IT CAN BE ABOUT BOTH", but part of what makes it so special in the eyes of many people is that it's NOT about both. That it consistently keeps its friendship theme and never safely comes out of it by making overly big moments with the love interest (except for Kairi single-handedly being the most important person to Sora. Why wouldn't it be Kairi AND Riku). So that initial message getting underplayed can risk taking the series down a peg for a lot of people.
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I know you dont watch GoT anymore. And that Braime and Sansa are your favorites. But I know you've read the books and are obviously really interested in the story. And I was just wondering what your thoughts are on the whole Jon killing Dany thing? Is that something you can see happening in the books? And if it is do you think it'd be in the same context as the show did it?
Ahaha, welp. Just jumping right in there.
(Also, you never have to apologise for asking GOT/ASOIAF questions. I obviously have been a fan for 16 years and wrote fuckin’ TNR with its half-million-plus words, so I clearly do have Thoughts on the story/characters, especially with the bag of lukewarm cat vomit that was s8 of the show.)
I already answered this ask discussing how much I hated the Mad Queen Dany thing, both because a) it was horrifically badly handled and b) these mediocre misogynist douchegobblers have managed to outdo themselves in terms of the gross messages they’ve sent about women, after 8 seasons of that. (These are the same people who made Sansa say that she was grateful for her rapes and who claimed that Dany’s turn into madness was foreshadowed by her having a “chilly” reaction to the death of her abuser, Viserys, in s1, so…. make of that what you will.) I’m not saying that it was narratively impossible, especially since GRRM has been toying with the same thing in the books and has more than his own share of Male Author Syndrome. But at the start of 8x04, Dany is in Winterfell, perfectly sane, toasting Arya as hero of the battle. By the end of 8x06, she’s crazy, a war criminal, and dead, murdered by her boyfriend, because… well, something something plot reasons. Even if you didn’t like Dany or were rooting for her to go mad or whatever, that was wildly badly handled.
I personally think it would be pretty gross for GRRM to also go down the Mad Queen route, though at least if he does, we will have had Dany’s POV chapters beforehand and presumably something resembling a justification and a building narrative momentum toward it. But she also got stuck in Meereen for so long because by his own admission he didn’t know what to do with her there or how to get her out of the situation and moved onto Westeros, which remains, theoretically, her outstanding goal in the books. It would obviously not be outside the realm of possibility for this to happen, given GRRM’s focus on “grittiness” that the show took to max factor 5000. I would still find it reductive and trying to make a Clever Postmodern Point and etc if it happened in the books, because literally why invest us in a character this long, especially one who has tried so hard to overcome the circumstances of her past/to not be her father, and then just do exactly that? Obviously there would be elements of Shakespearean tragedy to it, and if done well it could be compelling, but I personally just have a different approach to fiction and what people want out of a story (especially one now as famous as GOT/ASOIAF and how universally betrayed everyone seems to feel by the ending). I’m not saying Dany’s ultimate ending needs to be sunshine and roses and getting what she wants, because often character arcs and resolutions become all the more powerful for being subverted and thwarted (think the “I said I wanted [x] but [y] was there instead” sort of endings). But whatever it is, it needs to be…. not that.
Also, Jon in both books and especially show has been the epitome of Mediocre White Man. I stopped watching in s4, but Kit Harington’s acting was so wooden and the writing for him was very much Standard Misunderstood Brooding Fantasy Hero that I could barely pay attention to his scenes. I find him somewhat more interesting in the books, though ADWD dragged for everyone and it was obvious GRRM was writing in circles. But everyone has noticed that especially in the show, Jon does absolutely bupkis. His ass is constantly saved by the women in his life, he makes an absolute hash of any power that he is given and doesn’t want it anyway, and his ultimate ending was…. going back to the Night’s Watch (as their idea of satisfying narrative storytelling is to literally put everyone back where they were in the very first episode, apparently). Never mind the fact that there’s no need for the Night’s Watch, but the point is, even the fact that Jon is Rhaegar and Lyanna’s son ended up being relevant for like half an episode. That has been one of the major plot points/secrets of the books (although not so much anymore) and it just…. fizzled out like a damp squib. Dany actually TRIED for multiple seasons to be a good ruler and to learn how to handle power and become a queen, so for her to have to be the one to die for Jon to once again do diddlysquat is… well, as I have said before, the misogyny leaps out. They ended up wasting so much potential and so many other things that were also foreshadowed (and far more convincingly than “wah wah she was gonna go evil!”). For this? So Jon can just go brood in the snow again? Cool.
Not to mention, I find it gross on principle that Dany’s boyfriend had to be the one to kill her, especially after rape/sexual violence/loss of agency was such a big part of her early-season storylines (and how horrifyingly and grossly that has been handled on the show overall). We’re obviously supposed to sympathize with Jon in this scenario and to feel that it is justified to “stop a tyrant” or whatever. Also, if the episode was going to be called “Queenslayer,” why the fuck wasn’t it Jaime fulfilling the valonqar prophecy, another thing they forgot about, and killing Cersei, at great personal grief/cost, to once more stop an insane monarch from burning down King’s Landing? But that, of course, would be actual character development/overall arc, and they preferred to also trash that by having Jaime “killed Aerys Targaryen literally to save half a million innocent people and lived with his reputation being destroyed ever after” Lannister unironically claim that he never cared about the lives of the innocent and only wanted Cersei. After she again tried to kill him and Tyrion like three days ago, not even to mention what they did to Brienne and with that whole arc, but I will have a ragestroke if I think about it too much.
Basically, the ending wasn’t “bittersweet.” It was tragic, reductionist, ham-handed, hugely disappointing for everyone who put years of investment into these characters, and ended up in the amusing position of making Bran Stark the younger and more beautiful queen who comes to cast Cersei down. He became king because… reasons? Whatever? And he knows literally everything about everyone thanks to being the Three-Eyed Raven, so there’s no way that can go horribly wrong. He has basically done nothing except sit in a wheelchair and look creepy for several years now, his arc has never been remotely about being king, and Isaac Hempstead-Wright himself is apparently on record as saying he genuinely thought it was a joke script when he read it. This after both Emilia Clarke and Kit Harington broke down over learning what happened to their characters/Kit apparently realized it for the first time at the read-through and was horrified. Emilia already talked about wandering for five hours and having a crisis and calling her mom and asking to be talked off the ledge like….. fictional choices/characters completely aside, that’s a gross thing to do to your actors. I know they’re all proud of their work and they have apparently and understandably been defensive about the existence of the petition to rewrite s8, but they’ve all been pretty clear, while still being professional and supportive, that there is stuff that they’re just as much WTF about as we are.
Basically, as everyone keeps saying, the acting, cinematography, visual effects, music, etc was clearly up to as high a standard as ever, but was betrayed fundamentally and comprehensively by this god-awfully shit writing by a couple of hacks who clearly rushed the final season to get on to ruining working on Star Wars. They have also been on record about saying “you can’t do what the audience expects or it’ll get boring blah blah blah,” which is a profoundly flawed storytelling strategy if you’re paranoid and trying to outsmart your audience and do something that nobody has ever thought of because you’re an Intellectual Postmodern Commentator On Our Violent Society. If your audience can guess where a story is going, but are still surprised by major twists along the way that then make sense in hindsight, you’ve done your job. If you’re relying on grimdark and cramming in gimmicky plot twists and deus ex machinas and Shocking Moments rather than authentically developing your story, it’s going to bite you in the ass in a big way, as was just proven.
Nobody expected a completely happy ending from GoT. But the fact that they went to such lengths, especially in s8, to build up characters/ships (Jonerys, Braime, Gendrya were all torched after major canon moments completely unexpected by fans, especially the latter two – why even include it unless to just be more Tragique, and Gendrya is the only one that has even a chance in the future since half of it didn’t end up idiotically dead) and then just wrecked all of it…. as I’ve said, good endings don’t need to be rainbows and unicorns and kittens. But if you’ve asked eight years of audience investment, there has to be something that makes it worth it and that doesn’t make everyone feel like they were duped and stupid to get involved in the first place. They have been beating the “it’s a hard world and bad things happen to the characters” drum for all they’re worth, but… it’s just bad. You can analyse and ask why the hell they did things and so forth, but it’s bad. At this rate, the show should have either ended after 8x03, or they should have taken the money HBO offered and done the proper 10 episodes and let Bryan Cogman write all of them. He was the only one who appeared to remotely give a shit about the characters, and since D&D wrote the last four episodes themselves, yeah, this disaster is on them.
Fortunately, I left the show years ago and have TNR and am used to ignoring their version of things. And I knew all along that they never really got the characters or the story. But I feel really bad for everyone who has had this thrown back in their face, and it seems like a communal disenchantment with this ending is going to enter the pop-culture consciousness on a possibly unprecedented level. So if GRRM does do the Mad Queen Dany killed by Jon in the books (though he has apparently called the show’s ending “traumatic”), I’ll probably still not like it. He has a chance to sell me it on/justify it to me narratively, which the show categorically failed to do. I don’t think I will, just because as I said, I don’t like anything about it, but yes.
Anyway. This is a long post already, and I probably have more to say still, but it’s pretty obvious I think it’s just really, really bad, and that’s about the essence of it.
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