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lotusarchon · 3 months ago

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hiii! I was wondering if I could request MK having a crush on his coworker?? For example like- Reader works as a waiter in pigsys and Mk admires them a little too much

Can you make it spicy too in a way?? Sorry if that sounds demanding 😭😭

Yhank you!! Have a nice day<333

waiter, waiter! one serving of my heart, please (mk x reader)

content warnings: gender neutral reader, second pov (you/your), reader and Pigsy's relationship is strictly professional/no solid relationships between them, mk is in love

author's notes: twas a bit hesitant to write this cause it kinda reminded me of an asshole i once met in my older server bleghhhhh :< also sorry, i couldn't make it spicy agh

MK remembered when you first walk through the door. It was another Tuesday afternoon, bored out of his mind after another day of delivering noodles and saving the city. He'd only just returned, filling in Tang about the demons he came across while Pigsy made something in the kitchen.

And you were there. A bit dull-eyed compared to what MK remembered, but still wearing that smile he'd grown so fond of. You'd raised your hand in greeting, asking for the owner of the establishment you'd enter.

He remembered being too dazed to really focus on the conversation. All he knew was that he'd call for Pigsy, then spent the next hour or so watching you from a corner. It wasn't until you had taken your leave did he realize to ask, and he turned to Pigsy for answers.

“Oh, don't look at me like that.” Pigsy had sighed, sliding a bowl of freshly cooked noodles towards him. “You've been busier than ever with your training. And since we don't want a repeat of last time―” Last time meaning the clone incident. He still couldn't get over obese Delivery Clone trying to eat Pigsy… “―I figured a helping hand around here would do the trick.”

MK pretended to pout. “So you're replacing me?”

“No, dumbass.” Pigsy threw a wet cloth at Tang. It landed with ease, and the scholar whined. “Just that you don't have to stress too much about not doing enough around here. (Name)’ll work in your free time, and you theirs.”

It didn't seem like too bad of an arrangement. There were days he couldn't be around, swamped with training or some monster that wouldn't leave the city alone, and Pigsy would need an extra hand to help around. He could've asked Mei though, but he figured that the pig demon also wanted to offer employment to anyone in need of it.

It's just that, while MK had eaten his noodles and stared through the window to past the time, he really thought you were interesting, and the plans Pigsy had meant that, most likely, neither of you would get to speak together.

And that sucked. Because, once MK had the idea (and mere audacity, to quote a certain hot tempered bull prince) of befriending someone, not even the Buddha could pry the thought from his head.

Which in turn, lead to certain events, as of now. Hanging around during his own breaks to catch a mere glimpse of you, trying to play off the ‘cool’ hero act only to have his own staff knock him over in the process, god awful flirting attempts (seriously, those lines were bad bad), to name a few of the things he'd done. That wasn't even mentioning the times he accidentally held you up during rush hour, earning a scolding from Pigsy and customers that were completely rude to you and made MK feel so guilty in the aftermath.

With that last one, you'd think that such behavior would be enough to put anyone off. No sane adult liked getting yelled at for actions that weren't their fault, especially from their boss.

By the gods, you were a literal saint. And MK would be damn well lying if he said he wasn't head over heels in love, and that was saying something.

But, no. You still smiled at MK every morning when clocking in for work, and you still laughed at his bad jokes and horrible flirting lines. The rare off chance you two spoke, you were always so nice, not even bringing up the fact he'd gotten you into so much trouble over and over again.

“You're going on your lunch break?” He asked, waiting outside for you to show your face once again. Today had been his day off, but with Mei busy and the city surprisingly peaceful for the time, what better way to spend it than with you?

The question was a bit…too obvious, honestly. Of course you'd be going on your lunch break at this hour, how would he not know when he worked for Pigsy at the same time?? Plus, it's not like he hadn't hassled Pigsy before about your work hours and the time you'd take your breaks so…

You raised your head and glanced at him, nodding slightly. “Yes. Would you like to join me?”

In his head, MK was jumping for joy. He had been planning on asking you if he should join, but then you went right ahead and invited him first. This was progress at its finest, and MK was nabbing at this opportunity faster than lightning.

Just as quickly, he responded, “I mean, if you wouldn't mind me, I don't mind! Like, if you want me, haha….”

He could imagine Mei looking down at him in disappointment. <Seriously, confidence is key. You're the Monkie Kid, what do you have to be worried about!?

That was easy for her to say! She was always cool, unlike MK who'd embarassing himself in front of you so many times….

Lost in thought, he hadn't realized you'd stopped walking until he nearly tripped over a table. You had the kindness to grab at him before he fell, offering your sweet, signature smile while he took a seat, nervously laughing.

“So….”

“So…”

How awkward. MK played with his sleeves, watching you pop open a box of noodles from Pigsy and eat. How the fuck do you even start conversations again?

As if you read his mind, you raised your head and gave him another smile. How he wished he had a notebook and pen around, if only to sketch you with such a peaceful expression.

“You can speak, if you'd like,” you said assuringly, picking up a mushroom from your bowl. MK was never a fan of vegetables, but watching you stick it into your mouth made him wonder if he should try eating some. “I'll listen. ‘kay?”

So thoughtful. “O..okay…”

And boy did MK speak. He chattered endlessly about anything that came to mind, gauging how you reacted carefully. Sometimes, you'd finish chewing to comment or too, other times, your expression would change with whatever he was talking about, nodding along in agreement with his peeves and then shaking your head when someone else supposedly did him wrong.

At some point, he'd completely trailed off topic, staring at your lips wrapped around your chopstick. He was technically still yapping, except that now―

“What did you just say?”

He blinked.

What…..what had he been talking just now? Was it something that upsetted you!? Fuck, he's such an idiot, allowing his mouth to blabber―

“You…like me?”

….

…

MK stood to bolt.

It turned out you were a lot faster than you gave him credit for. You had already grabbed him by the collar, yanking him backwards and onto the seat―this time, next to you.

“MK.”

Dear god, he wanted to disappear. Why hadn't Monkey King taught him one of his 72 transformations?? Fleeing from this situation would be a whole lot faster….

“MK.” You repeated his name, turning his head to look at you. “I heard you, you know.”

MK sighed. “Listen, I'm so sorry―”

“Why? Who said I didn't like you too?”

“―like, I know, I know, you're not here for relationships or any of that sort, and I shouldn't―what did you just say?”

You smiled slightly. “I said, I like you too.”

“Oh.”

“...”

And then MK fainted.

“MK? Are you alright?”

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luxthestrange · 7 months ago

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LMK Incorrect quotes#106 Old man yaoi

@ Sandy & Hunstman Wedding...

Tang to Sandy, who's about to get married: Today, two families are becoming one-

Macaque in an ominous voice: Two families enter, and one family leaves

Pigsy: That sounds so threatening

Mk & Mei: The Wedding Games...

Wukong: May the bouquet toss be ever in your favor...

Y/n: Beautiful

Huntsman: F#$% all of you-

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watercurtaincave · 1 year ago

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Sun wukong dating headcanons? ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

𖤓 !! — I [love] you like the sun! Sun Wukong (LMK) / reader

𖤓 !! — For as long as you knew Wukong, there has been this odd constant about him; and it wasn't the fact that he took everything, seemingly, at face value and joked about a lot of what he was doing (whether he knew what he was doing or not). No, that was just something you come to accept of Wukong, it was the fact that he hated to be alone. For as much as he puts up a front, deeming he is okay alone and he doesn't need anyone by his side, you knew the opposite was true. It always had been; Wukong just wasn't one who could talk about his emotions in a proper manner, and you guessed it was due to the fact he had so many apologies he could not give.

𖤓 !! — Or maybe they were apologies he just can't give due to his own stubbornness and pride, either way for as much as he hated being alone you also knew Wukong hated hurting his friends. Despite the fact that he tends to do it a lot without realizing it. Time and time again he will just get so absorbed within himself, within trying to correct a problem (he most likely caused) and trying to protect his friends that he ends up hurting everyone else instead. From the brotherhood to his student, Wukong has never learnt how to talk to people. Nevertheless, you would suspect he has a habit of thinking if he where to tell people how he was actually feeling they would think different of him; possibly less, possibly weaker.

𖤓 !! — Oh, for how much you love Wukong he always seemed to burn everyone next to him. That's why you have to take a little extra care of his heart, and of him. For despite how long you know him, it'll take a hot minute before he realizes that he's as stuck with you and you're stuck with him.

𖤓 !! — No literally, you're both stuck with each other and there's no getting out of it.

𖤓 !! — You were first introduced to Wukong through the whole godly latter, that and by what MK, Mei, Tang, Chang'e and Ne Zha has told you about the proclaimed Great Sage, Equal to Heaven. You may or may not have spoken to Macaque once or twice as well before you ever met MK's mentor, which really stuck wrong with you at first. If you were meeting one of this "Great Sage's" enemies before you met the "Great Sage" himself, then what did that say about the "Equal to Heaven", huh? That he couldn't be bothered to be around to protect MK? That he's too lazy sleeping somewhere on a fluffy cloud to get up and kick his emo cousin's ass? Yeah, you had been really bitter towards Wukong at first. Even stand-offish when you first met him.

𖤓 !! — Even more creeped out when he used to stare at you for no reason, holding this odd look in his eyes. You had a feeling he wanted to say something, something that seemed to really bug him because even MK pointed out how weird his staring habit was. But he never did. He always kind of bit his tongue and tried to stay his distance from you.

𖤓 !! — You kind of noticed that rather quickly. I mean, how could you not notice when Sun Wukong would dance around MK and Mei to get away from you whenever you walked over. Or how he suddenly went quiet, like he was trying to disappear, when you pipped in on a conversation. Or the way he would actually disappear whenever when you came by and make up some awkward excuse like he left the stove on at home or he needed to feed his pet bird.

𖤓 !! — "I don't even think he has a pet bird.." MK mumbled at that one, not having noticed that you had just walked into Pigsy's until you sat down next to Tang; Who greeted you accordingly with a smile. You simply smiled and nodded back. "Yeah, well what do you expect from a two-timin' schemer who always just happens to disappear when someone comes in." Pigsy commented, shooting his eyes towards you with a cock of his eyebrow. You couldn't help but give in an unamused look, MK and Mei quickly giving you very esthetic hellos. Yet they soon hushed as you shook your head, "If you're saying I had anything to do with the 'Great Sage' suddenly getting cold feet whenever I come by, I don't know what that's about-" "Yeah!" MK suddenly appeared at your side, Mei in tow, "Before we introduced them, the Monkey King said he never has met them before. I just think it's some weird god stuff, that or maybe he's always just conveniently busy when you come around." And with that MK shrugged, giving the group a small smile. "Yeah, no, I think there's more to it." Tang mumbled between slurping his noodles.

𖤓 !! — Yeah, no, I think there's more to it. Why did those words stick in your head? Yeah, no, I think there's more to it. What more could be to Monkey King, Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, have to avoiding you like you were a plague other than him just not liking you for whatever reason? I mean, you've heard all the stories that MK and Tang have dug up about the Monkey King and nothing really ever struck a cord in you. You've listened to them gush about this great hero, a powerful demon that has revealed and bested so many, and none of that gave off the energy that Wukong did when he was around you. So what is his deal?

𖤓 !! — Later that week, after a tired shift of serving costumers, you didn't have the energy to do much other than slug your way back to Pigsy's; And you couldn't help but half-pray to anyone that Wukong was there. "And then I was like!-" And yet you instantly knew the gods were not on your side that day when you heard the Monkey King himself boosting about another fight he conquered. Yet, by the sounds of it, this was an older fight. Not that you were surprised in any way, that was just how the Monkey king seemed to be. He would use voice-sound effects, as well as big dramatic motions, to show how he defeated whichever enemy he was fighting in his tale. All the while, you managed to slip into the shop and quietly sit next to an overly excited Tang (as MK and Mei were sitting front row to hear the story). Yet, just as Wukong was about to get to the climax his eyes met yours and he faltered; His mouth went dry as his whole dramatic disposition came to an abrupt halt. You swore it he looked at you like he saw a ghost, and something about this surely ticked you off. After a day of serving rude costumers and frantic mothers with missing kids, you were about two seconds from smashing Wukong's face into the table.

𖤓 !! — "What? Why do you always look at me like that?" You would retort to the Monkey King with a scrunch of your nose, folding your arms firmly across your chest. Despite the disappointment from Mei and MK seconds before, as Wukong had stopped his dramatic retelling, they paused upon hearing your voice and turned around. You were sure they now understood why Wukong had stopped so suddenly. "I don't look at you like anything," Wukong instantly tried to deny, throwing out a 'pshh' from his mouth and a dismissive wave to drive his claim. Though he turned his back towards you to check the fake watch on his wrist, "Oh, well you look at the time! My cat must be so lonely-" You were tired of his dodging act, "I thought it was a bird." "Well a king can't have too many animals!- pets?" Wukong shot back almost instantly and you swore you could see some sweat rolling down his hidden face. He rubbed the back of his head, keeping his eyes on everything but you. "Yeah, uh-huh, because all your pets looks so real when I went to your little cave of a home with MK that one day to babysit." You would cock an eyebrow up at Wukong, watching as he stiffened in place. You were sure he was glaring daggers at the ground, maybe even thinking of escaping with his fancy god-like magic, "Yeah, uh-huh, as I thought. You have no pets do you, Great Sage? So, do you mind telling me why you've been avoiding me?"

𖤓 !! — For as long as you knew Wukong, you never realized how long you had actually known him for. Centuries of memories you could no longer recall, countless lives that you never knew you experienced, and it all seemed such an artificial answer when it came from Wukong. It felt like another outlandish tale of half-truths he was feeding to you to keep some sort of peace. But it wasn't:

𖤓 !! — At the start of it all, you had been a goddess (immortal like the rest). You hadn't been anyone important, no one that the mortals would remember anyways, you were simply one of the maidens that picked the immortality peaches in the orchard. You had been one of the few immortals who caught Wukong as he stole a peach, and oddly enough (from his recounting) you had let him go. Which made him curious about you. All too curious for his own good. You both would spend evenings and nights in each other's company upon any private setting you could find. In the orchard, in a garden that was rarely occupied, in your own room even. You both talked about everything and nothing, spent evenings somethings just laying and enjoying each other's company. Yet you could not leave the Celestial Realm, you were not on the approved list to do so. And yet when Wukong had left his post to return to his kingdom he still made the dangerous journey to come see you. He tried to convince you to come down with him many times, to come see the mountain of flower and fruits with your own eyes. Even when you told him no, he continued to come back. Until one day he just decided to kidnap you entirely.

𖤓 !! — It wasn't a bad kidnapping, one more like you were about to face sever punishment for associating with the Monkey King despite the status you held among the immortals. He proclaimed he was your hero as Wukong explained how he busted into the room, sweeping you off your feet and escaping the guards that had been sent to capture the two of you. Though it had been the worst mistake of his life.

𖤓 !! — What he hadn't known at the time, what you hadn't know either, was that the Jade Emperor had cursed you upon your assignment to the Peach orchard. If you were ever to escape the confines of the Celestial Realm, if you were to ever eat any of the peaches unauthorized, your divinity would be stripped away as punishment. You would have basically fell from heaven, becoming a mortal, if Wukong hadn't been holding (kidnapped) you during the decent down. And the way he described the anguish you had gone through while losing your divinity, despite having explaining this while sitting on a wooden table in a small and cramp noodle shop, made some sort of shiver rush up your spine. He couldn't even look up at you, this time out of pure guilt, as he explained it all; "I watched as your divinity was stripped from you, balled up at your chest before shooting up towards the Celestial Realm. I heard the Jade Emperor's laughter, his maniatic laughter and dammit-" Wukong punched the table, and you were surprised he didn't break it with the force he had used, "-All I wanted to do was go up there and beat his ass for being so cruel to you; for making you endure so much pain..." And something inside of you told you, like it was some sort of faint whisper, that Wukong was tormented by the thoughts of your screams until this day. That no matter what he has gone through or what he will go through, your screams will be the one thing that truly shakes him to his core.

𖤓 !! — "Ever since that day everything felt like some corny mortal and immortal love story that's written about now-a-days." Wukong would explain as his eyebrows frowned together, "When you first died it hurt so much, I was tempted to go up to the Jade Emperor himself and force him to take my immortality to be with you. "I debated on that for years actually, yet none of my old friends would let me near the Celestial Realm. And so I kind of sat and waited, I didn't know what to do with myself and it felt like I was always going to miss a part of me forever. Corny for the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven, I know!" Wukong smiled, trying to lighten the mood with his usual antics. Yet he flattened, "But.. it really felt like it. "Until I was on a mission one day and I saw you again and you didn't know me, and I knew you didn't, but you drew me in all the same and well I fell in love with you all over again. And you fell in love with me and that cycle kind of repeated itself..."

𖤓 !! — Wukong paused, a small frown grew on his lips. He seemed hesitant to continue his train of thought yet he took in a deep breath and let it go. "Well, until you told me to stop with this mad chase. You had found all of past life you's memorabilia and pictures in that big closet of important things I own... and you told me to move on. "And you told me if I ever find you again in the future to not pursue a relationship with you because. . . well you didn't want to see me hurt."

𖤓 !! — But after all these lives, after all the time you have known Wukong, you should have known better that he couldn't keep his mind from you no matter how hard he tried. He hated being alone as much as he hated this horrible cycle he's put you through, yet still in every life he has chosen you above everyone else. He continued to choose you and you continued to choose him.

𖤓 !! — And, hey, that has to mean something. . . right?

Home | Masterlist | Series Master list 𖤓 !! — all writing in this page belongs to @watercurtaincaves, please do not repost on other sites, plagiarize, or steal. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#lmk x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x y/n #lmk sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #sun wukong #sun wokung #lmk #wukong #lmk swk #lmk sun wukong #lmk mk #monkie kid #lmk mei #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk x y/n

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pollensweetchimera · 1 year ago

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MK (breaking down the door): Y/N!

Y/n: wow easy there,whats up-

Mk: did you sleeped with MY FATHERS??!!

Everyone in the room silence.

Y/n: first of all show some respect for your step parent and second of all,you grounded.

#incorrect quotes #y/n #lmk sun wukong #lmk incorrect quotes #lmk mk #lmk sun wukong x reader #lmk tang x reader #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #lmk macaque #lmk macaque x y/n #lmk macaque x reader #lmk pigsy

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broke-art · 1 year ago

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You walked briskly through the city as the waning sunlight cast deep shadows. Your 'cousin' Mei was waiting for you at a restaurant named Pigsy's Noodles. You 'cousin' was technically not blood related her father and your adoptive father were....well not close but they tolerated each other.

Every year you would go to spend a week with your 'cousin' and her family. And every year your uncle would teach you self defense and what he could about your little...secret.

A few people tossed looks your way and you tugged up your hood not enjoying the attention.

The truth was you had a power you simply could not understand. Unlike your father, uncle, and cousin you were not a dragon. You were....well...something else.

You turned the corner following the directions on your phone. At that exact moment fire exploded from an upper balcony window above the resturant.

Mei and her best friend M.k stood just ahead starting at the flickering flame.

You gasped and ran forward summoning your magic. You couldn't do much. But silencing a flame before it overtook a restaurant, that was doable. Assuming it was somewhat smaller.

"Yooink."

A male voice mocked before the flame jumped from the balcony and flew right at you.

You yelped and jumped to the side tucking into a roll just as a race car shot off in the direction you had been standing.

Mei and m.k exchanged a few words before Mei summoned her motorcycle and shot off and M.k pole vaulted after the car.

You blinked your mind stumbling over what you had just witnessed. A flame jumping from a balcony? And turning into a race car? You breathed out a sigh knowing your curiosity would not be assuaged until you found out what that was about.

You focused on the magic you had just summoned but this time you focused on Mei. You could teleport minor distances, if you had an anchor. Mei would serve as the anchor.

You solidified the image of Mei and then allowed your magic to do it's work. In an instant you felt the world around you shift and when you blinked your eyes open you saw a massive column slam down on the front of the aforementioned race car, although now altered, throwing a redhead through the windshield.

"So, looks like you've reached the end of the line Red Son. What were you even gonna do with this thing anyway?"

You stepped closer and opened your mouth as Mei dismounted and stepped over to M.k. but another voice cut you off.

"Why spoil the surprise? Now hand the key over and quit wasting my time."

Mei and m.k shared a look then launched at a woman dressed all in red with...were those horns?

What had Mei gotten her self into?!

A very short battle commenced and then Mei and m.k were thrown into a cement wall cracking it upon impact. And your temper flared.

Red Son, as M.k had called him, scooped up the key and raced towards the woman.

"Oh no you don't!" You yelled summoning a small blast of fire you launched it Infront of Red Son. Except it wasn't small. Your anger had stoked the fire making them burst into a massive wall of black flame.

Red Son stumbled to a halt with a gasp and the woman turned a glare on you. But after a second her eyes widened.

"Y/n?"

Red Son summoned his own flames and turned his own glare at you, only to freeze when the woman spoke once again.

"Red Son. Come."

Red Son growled but burst into orange flames and jumped your barrier.

You readied another spell but at that moment the woman waved her fan and the wind picked up behind you and lifted you off the ground. You felt it pin your arms against your sides.

"No! Y/n!" Mei yelled pushing debris off her and running forward.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tensed for impact expecting to be thrown against some thing. The winds pulled you forward at alarming speed and then heat exploded around you.

You waited for pain but felt none. Slowly you blinked only to find yourself in what looked to be an underground base with a glowing blue...was that a casket?!

"Mother what are you-"

The wind dropped you then and you attempted to run but two robotic bulls grabbed your arms holding you fast.

Just then the woman walked over to you her arms folded behind her back.

"Do you know who I am?" She asked musingly.

You struggled.

"A kidnapper?" You huffed sarcastically.

"How dare you! You insolent little-" Red Son growled only to pause when the woman held up her hand.

"I am princess Iron Fan." She touched her hand to her chest. "I knew your mother."

Suddenly you froze. Memories you didn't understand and couldn't piece together flashed through your mind but just as quickly as they came they vanished.

"Liar." You spat.

Something changed in Lady Iron fan's gaze then. For a moment you almost thought it was hurt but it vanished far too quickly for you to be certain.

"Take her away. I'll see to this later. For now Red Son take your father the key."

"No!" You shouted and struggled more fervently now as the bull clones dragged you away.

#lego monkie kid #jttw #lego red son #lmk #jttw sun wukong #jttw wukong #lego monkie king #lego #lego nezha #redson #lmk lady bone demon #lmk Lady Iron Fan #lmk dbk #lmk x reader #lmk x tang #lmk x red son #lmk x y/n

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glitcheslikeslego · 7 months ago

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All The Right Moves!

Chapter 1 : Celebi

The Time Travel Pokemon. Celebi wanders across time. Grass and trees flourish in the forests in which it has appeared. It has the power to travel across time, but it is said to appear only in peaceful times.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, clear out all the newborn Espurr that were causing a ruckus, and get out.

Sylveon had been a huge help with herding all the Espurr into one group, but an especially ear piercing cry and psychic blast that could rival a Noivern’s Boomburst ended up summoning Celebi, of all creatures.

Celebi.

And you had no clue what happened next, other than the fact that you were silently praying to the Order Pokemon before a giant psychic attack attacked you and rendered you unconscious in an alleyway.

Which was… strange, to say the least. The Ranger Organization should have picked you up and brought you to the med bay to have you and your Pokemon assessed, but instead you ended up in a dark and admittedly disgusting alleyway in a bustling city.

At first, you thought that the blast somehow threw you from the forest in front of Parfum Palace all the way to Lumiose City, but when you stepped out into the light, you were terribly wrong.

The city had tall buildings, with none of the Kalosian charm that Lumiose had, and the signs were all written in a strange language you’ve never read before, let alone seen.

“What happened…?” You muttered to yourself, and you noticed that Sylveon had also gotten up to look around curiously.

“Syl…” He looked all around the place before his gaze landed on you, and he stared at you bug-eyed. “VEON!?”

“What? What is it?” You ask, and he begins gesturing to you, like, all of you. Using his ribbons as some funky charades.

“What are you doing? If this is some joke you got, it’s not funny.” You deadpanned.

Sylveon continued his charades, this time more frantically, but because you obviously don’t believe him, he groaned and grabbed your arm before dragging you out onto the sidewalk. “Whoa! What is it?”

Sylveon ignored the weird and curious glances that civilians shot at him and his trainer, and pulled you to the nearest window and pointed at it. “Ve.” He said.

Confused, you looked at the window, only to see you but… yellow? Why were you yellow? You turned your head, and the window mirrored your movements. You held up your hands, which were just claw shaped, and your legs and feet were rectangular.

“What just happened?”

“Syl Sylveon!” Sylveon exclaimed, finally glad you noticed that he wasn’t pulling your leg like he normally does.

You turned away from your reflection, seeing that the many civilians going about their day also had yellow skin, claw hands and rectangle legs, some even had different shades of colours, like red and blue..

‘This is strange.’ You think to yourself. ‘Where are we?’

With nothing to do except take in your surroundings and try and find out where you ended up at, you begin walking around the city in hopes of finding someplace to go and figure out where you are.

You let Sylveon hold onto your arm with his ribbons as you walked along the sidewalk of the strange city, still getting odd glances, but there weren’t many, and Sylveon managed to unnerve them with a glare to stop their staring.

You hadn’t walked for long until Sylveon became intrigued by something and had led you to a restaurant. You deadpanned. “Really Sylveon? Food? Now? We don’t even know where we are– AH!” You were rudely cut off from your scolding when a young man burst from the entrance, delivery bags in his arms, yelling back at someone.

“Sorry!” The delivery man apologised as he got into his dinghy little vehicle and rushed off.

“Well, that was kinda rude.”

“Syl.” Despite his nod that matched your slight Kalosian pretentiousness, Sylveon was more interested in what was inside the restaurant, so he dragged you inside.

You paused when you saw a human in a chair eating noodles, and a Grumpig-looking man behind the counter waving a spoon around angrily. The two stopped upon seeing you and Sylveon.

“Uh, sorry for bothering you?” You say first, more confused than apologetic, and the Gumpig man’s angered look changed into a smile.

“Welcome in, customer! Take a seat, I’ll take your order in a second.” The chef gave the human a glare before heading to the back kitchen, meanwhile the bespectacled human slurped his noodles while looking at Sylveon with a curious look.

“Ve?” Sylveon looked at the brunette with a heated, offended glare, making the human nervous smile and divert his attention back to his book, sweating as Sylveon continued to send him the nastiest glare imaginable.

“Sylveon, don’t be rude.” You said in a scolding tone to the Fairy-type, who simply stuck his nose up arrogantly. “I’m sorry about him, he’s just a butt.”

Sylveon let out an offended noise, but you ignored him in favour of striking up conversation with the man beside you as you waited for the Grumpig chef to return.

The man, who had introduced himself as Tang, was a scholar. And strangely enough, he had never heard of Sylveon before. You assumed it as just a regional difference, maybe they didn’t have Eevee or any of its evolutions here? But no…

He doesn’t even know what a Pokemon is.

Which struck at all of the red alarms in your head. At first you thought that they just didn’t even have any Pokemon here, but that wouldn’t even make sense, they should still know what a Pokemon is, even if they don’t have any.

You were snapped out of your mini crisis when the chef returned, wiping his hands dry on a rag. “Sorry ‘bout that. What can I get ‘ya?” He asks, leaning on the counter casually, sparing a slight glare at Tang.

You looked back at the menu. You… hadn’t really considered what to buy, but Sylveon seems to be at least one step ahead as he yoinks the menu from your hands with one ribbon and points to a food item with the other.

The chef looked at the spot before saying, “Chow Mein?” Sylveon nodded erratically and you sighed and nodded in agreement. It was… better than nothing you suppose.

“Alright, coming right u–.” He froze when he heard a sliding noise, and everyone looked over to Tang, who had pushed his empty bowl away from himself, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Feeling stared at, he looked back with an equally nervous and smug smile.

“One of these days I’m gonna ban ‘ya.” The chef growled as he took the bowl from off the counter. Tang just nodded dismissively, as if knowing he won’t get banned, despite the threat.

Sylveon thought he was weird.

A semi-awkward silence came over the two of you, that type of silence where you wanted to strike up small talk, but neither wanted to, but it was fine. You absentmindedly began petting Sylveon’s head. He yelped with a disgruntled look on his face, moving so instead you were stroking his back. “Sorry bud.” You muttered, Sylveon waved a ribbon in response.

It took a short while, but your noodles finally arrived. The bowl was filled to the brim with noodles, as well as other vegetables and ingredients. You thanked him before grabbing the chopsticks to eat with them. You haven’t used chopsticks in a while, having used them while at Sushi High Roller for your Ranger Leader’s retirement party a few months back, which led to your friend and superior stepping up, leaving you as the second-in-command.

You were suddenly struck with the realisation that you were technically MIA, with probably no way of contacting your Ranger Agency of your whereabouts.

The long and short of it, you’re screwed.

“Woah!” You yelped as you were set off balance by Sylveon, who greedily began munching on the noodles in the bowl. With a brown, you grabbed him by the scruff and sat him back down. “No, Sylveon. You can’t just eat from the bowl.” You look around and find a cup full of green tea, you must've been too distracted by the noodles to notice it. You took it and chugged the tea before putting a bunch of noodles in it and handing it to Sylveon. “Here.”

Sylveon looked grossed out, but the small taste he had earlier overpowered his brain, and he began chowing down on the noodles, letting you enjoy yours in peace.

All the while, Tang had been slitting his attention between his book and staring at you and Sylveon, a stranger in an even stranger red costume-esque uniform and a small quadruped fox-like monster who was admittedly cute, but really just a jerk.

As you were eating your noodles, the young man from earlier burst through the entrance with a raven haired girl with green highlights. You and Sylveon stuck to yourselves as they all began talking about the staff the young man had… that was able to extend and retract. You would have dismissed it until Tang began fanboying over the staff, talking about ‘DBK’ and ‘Monkey King’ before all running out, leaving you and Sylveon in the shop.

“Uhh, what?” You blurted out, confused.

“Veon…” Sylveon growled as he finished his noodles, annoyed that they had just been left in the shop. What kind of customer service was that!?

Sylveon had finished his bowl before you, but seeing as how he was eyeing it, as if he were planning on stealing it from you, but since you weren’t exactly hungry after your sudden realisation from earlier, you just gave the rest to him and he ate it happily.

“Now what…” You pondered to yourself. Your food was almost finished, but the chef was no longer present, not even his seemingly only employee or Tang. But you couldn’t just leave without paying.

Sylveon, however, had a much different idea. Seeing your inner turmoil, he smirked, finished the noodles and jumped off the seat. You watched him, curious as to what he was doing, only for him to take your arm with his ribbons again and begin dragging you away from the restaurant.

“Sylveon, hold on! We can’t just leave!” Oh my Arceus, Sylveon’s gonna turn you into a criminal!

“On!” Sylveon chirped back, totally unfazed by the fact that he was causing you both to dine and dash. The Fairy-type Eeveelution was incredibly strong, way more determined than he normally was to get out of somewhere.

He kept dragging you around the city, both of you looking around cautiously yet curiously. Every turn you took had more citizens stare at you both, especially Sylveon, reminding you of how Tang was very confused about Pokemon, and how this world probably doesn’t even have Pokemon.

If this truly were another world… but seeing as how you were a yellow person and there were no Pokemon around, instead replaced with these bland appearing creatures, the theory you concocted in your head didn’t seem too far fetched.

As you got yourself lost in your thoughts, the looming doom of your situation returned tenfold. You were in a world with nothing you knew of back home, no Pokemon in tall grass, no Trainers lining the routes, the lively world you inhabited is now replaced with one that was as boring as it was nerve wracking.

Noticing your panic, Sylveon tugged your arm harshly, snapping you out of your funk with a yelp. “Ow! Sylveon, not cool!”

The little mischief maker giggled innocently, but his smug grin showing off his tiny fangs showed that he enjoyed what he just did.

He continued dragging you around, and everything was as fine and dandy as it could be for you both. You reached what appeared to be a district of abandoned buildings, from offices to apartments, you looked down at Sylveon then back up at one of the apartments.

“Oh my Arceus, Sylveon, you’re a genius.” You mutter in realisation, finally understanding the method to his madness.

“Ve-on.” He replied back with a prideful grin, as if to say ‘I know’. He released your arm and ducked under the caution tape before trotting along the abandoned streets of this district. You rushed to follow him.

You both walked along the middle of the road, you following your partner, and Sylveon seemingly looking for something, which with the way things were going, you hoped was a place to stay.

The ground then began to rumble harshly, the stray rocks and pebbles on the ground shaking and jumping from it all, and you looked around in confusion. Was it a horde of Diglett? Perhaps a burrowing Excadrill.

“Veon!” Sylveon pointed at the city and you saw… a giant, purple, bipedal Tauros? It was wearing strange armour, and it was obviously no good.

“What is that? What do we do?”

“Ve veon.” Sylveon said, shaking his ribbons in an ‘absolutely not’ way before pulling you into the nearest abandoned apartment building. It had major amounts of water damage, so you supposed that this entire part of the city was closed down due to some previous flooding and no one has picked up the reins to fix it up or tear it down.

Your distraction made it so Sylveon went ahead, she approached the elevator and pressed the up button.

It didn’t work.

Cue you having to grab Sylveon’s ribbons before he pushed the button through the console and made it even less repairable.

“The elevator isn’t working. We should take the stairs.” Sylveon groaned as you walked to the staircase, him having no choice to follow you up. The more stairs you went up, the less the water damage there was, and when you made it all the way up to the top, the floor was relatively spotless aside from a thick layer of dust that caked every corner.

Upon seeing the fancy hallway, Sylveon brightened up. Forgetting his overdramatic breathing as he finally made it up, he bounded down the hall to the fanciest door.

The door was missing its locks and some hinges, so Sylveon managed to open the door with ease. The apartment was more like a penthouse, spacious and fancy looking, making you feel unwelcome. Sylveon was undeterred, scampering about until he found somewhere to plop himself down.

You followed him, finding yourself in the living room, with Sylveon napping on an exquisite lounge chair. You decided to sit on the couch. As soon as you did, the ground rumbled again, startling you both.

Sylveon growled, shaking a ribbon like a fist before going back to nap without a worry. And you decided that napping was also probably a good idea.

Maybe this was all just a weird dream made by the Espurr, who knows?

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magicalbunbun · 2 years ago

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-new design of the monkey king Y/n, I was trying so hard to make the design look more to lady bone Demon.

And of course nezha from this au ;)

#monkie kid au #lmk x y/n #lmk x reader #lmk #monkie kid oc #monkie kid x reader #nezha #mei #pigsy #tang #monkey king y/n #Au

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lilith-little-world · 2 years ago

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Hi, if you still do request I was thinking of a reader x swk or sem. The reader is a sort of time traveler (much like the guy from that movie the butterfly effect) in which she can posses her past selves bodies by looking at picture, video, or reading her diary from that current version of her. During those possessions of get past self her current self (who she posses has no memory of that time of being possed "blacks out") the whole reason for the diaries. She posses an old version of her after her body had previously been dying killed by possed swk during the lbd fight. So she had lived through everything previously and knows whats going to happen.

Ahhh, I can smell the angst from here, I love it! Also don't worry, I'm still doing requests, just been busy and my had to switch from writing on my phone to my laptop, since my Grammarly keyboard officially broke on my phone...

Had to deal with my mom asking questions about what I was writing, since it was now obvious I was up to something.

Anyway, I'm sorry if this wasn't how you expected it, I got too caught up with the angst.

Saving Myself Then You|| Oneshot

Fate is cruel, and the path that leads to it is more brutal. Never have you thought of the person you cared about most trying to take your life. Well, in his defense, he was being possessed and was forced to. However, that didn't stop the fear rushing through your veins. Those piercing, cold blue eyes never left your fearful ones. Yet bravely facing the ruthless creature that brought havoc to heaven itself. Even so, you caught glimpses of the man you love trying to break free from that demon’s control, yet it wasn't enough.

Nezha happened to be trapped in a thick layer of ice, stuck until someone got him out. Mk disappeared to who knows where, one moment was right behind you, and now he was gone. Which left you to fend for yourself, to survive on your own. You mentally pat your back for lasting this long, questioning if you have gotten good at dodging or was just pure luck.

“Well, at least I got to say I went up against the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven… You're not going to kill me, right? I'm on the ground, defeated. You win.” You said weakly.

It didn't take a genius to realize things were about to get messy. You didn't want to believe it, trying to last long enough for Wukong to break free. Be that as it may, there was one thing you had forgotten. You were going up against a being that had fought the celestial army and defeated it with ease.

In other words, you were getting your ass kicked and will not last long enough. Wukong steadily walks towards you. Ready to finish this fight, once and for all.

“And here I thought, I was never going to use this power.” You mumbled.

Wukong glances at your hands when he sees you pull out the small diary. Quickly, he lunges at you, trying to tear the small journal out of your hands.

Perhaps, you shouldn't have said that out loud in hindsight.

He pins you to the ground, putting his entire weight to keep you from moving. The air from your lungs forcefully escapes. The heavy pressure on your chest prevents you from taking another breath. Panic floods your mind, trying to open the journal. Any situation was better than this. You tear out a page from one of the recent entries. Wukong expression never changed from the intimating stern look. He glances at the book, casting it aside before settling on the torn paper. Your lungs burn from the lack of air, putting every last energy into reading the text. Your vision fades as it changes to the once-familiar setting.

You gasp loudly. The burning in your lungs serves as a haunting reminder of the future. You fall to your knees with tears falling from your eyes. Not only that, but you try to take as much air in your lungs, afraid of losing it again.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Tang gently places a hand on your shoulder.

You wiped the tears from your eyes. Finally, register where you ended up. Everyone was staring at you, worried. However, you stare at the person who tried to kill you in the near future. His lovely golden eyes were wide with worry. He was close to the cliff, ready to fly off to fight LBD. You push yourself up and rush at him, anger written on your face. Clasping on the hem of his shirt, you brought him down to your level.

“You better sit your ass down and listen! We are not doing this again!” You shout, letting your temper take control.

Wukong stays silent but nods. Yet you didn't dare let go of his shirt, your glare never leaving his nervous face.

“I’m assuming, from your mood right now. I failed to defeat the Lady Bone Demon.” Wukong laughs nervously, hoping that your foul mood lightens up. It did not.

“What do you think?” Your eyes narrow.

Wukong didn't say anything, silently cursing his future self for upsetting you. A sigh escapes from you, finally breaking the death glare. You let go of his shirt and wrap your arms around him.

“Please don't go.” You whispered, leaning close, locking your lips with his.

Wukong body was tense, before relaxing and returning the kiss.

“I won't go, alright? Don't worry, I’ll be right here.” He said softly, resting his forehead on yours.

The two of you, enjoying the small moment. Tears once again fall from your eyes, not from sadness, but in relief.

“Sorry to ruin this cute moment, but please tell me you have a plan.” Mk said.

You let go of Wukong, wiping the tears away, and face the bruised-up group.

“I- do not… I kind of nearly died.” It was your turn to nervously laugh.

“You, WHAT?” Everyone yelled in unison.

“It wasn’t fun and I rather avoid that, so Wukong, stay here and come up with a decent plan this time.” You glance at everyone, seeing their shocks faces turn serious but determined.

“Any ideas?”

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makoto-lmk-love · 2 years ago

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happy women's day (i know its late shh🤫)

This is for female!Y/n (but other genders can read too)

Monkey king : Hi My darling happy women's day!!! I love you sooo much!*kissing*

Mk: Hello Honey!! Happy happy women's day!! *gives you flowers*

Pigsy: Happy women's day! You don't have to work today...

Sandy: hey happy women's day! do you want tea?

Tang 🍜 : Y/N HAPPY WOMEN'S DAY!!!

Red son : not that I particularly like you, but happy women's day !

I KNOW YOU WAIT FOR Macaque

Macaque: Hi baby happy women's day... I love youuuu~ (*￣3��)╭

Me: HAPPY WOMEN'S DAY !!! Y/n you are soooooo Beautiful !!!

#lmk tang #lmk gif #lmk mei #lmk red son #lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk monkey king #lmk oneshots #lmk y/n #reader x lmk #lmk mk #lmk au #mk lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk pigsy #monkie kid #six eared macaque

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gxthicupid · 2 years ago

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𝙍𝙐𝙇𝙀𝙎/𝙂𝙐𝙄𝘿𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎 [𝙇𝙀𝙂𝙊 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙆𝙄𝙀 𝙆𝙄𝘿]

𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘴: 𝘊𝘓𝘖𝘚𝘌𝘋

Hello! If you're here, then you must be interested in sending a request. Here are just a few things to remember before doing so.

☆ 𝙐𝙋𝘿𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙎/𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙈𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉:

○ SORRY! But my updates will be slow, I'll make sure to update as soon as possible.

○ I will not do requests if they do not follow the appropriate guidelines of this account.

○ I will delete and not interact with any rude or hate comments.

○ Please be SPECIFIC about what you would like me to write about.

○ There will be characters that have restricted content written next to the name, so please do not ask those requests.

☆ 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇�� 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀:

○ Oneshots

○ Fluff

○ Comfort

○ Headcanons

○ Smut

☆ 𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀:

○ Angst

○ Heavy Gore/Graphics

○ Toxic Relationships

○ Yandere

○ R@pe

○ Proshipping/P3d0p!ll!@

○ !nc3st

☆ 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝘼𝙑𝘼𝙄𝙇𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝙒𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝘼𝘽𝙊𝙐𝙏:

○ MK

○ Mei

○ Tang

○ Pigsy

○ Sandy (all genres available except for smut)

○ Sun Wukong

○ Six-Eared Macaque

○ Nezha (all genres available except for smut)

○ Chang'e

○ Azure Lion

𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏: 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙎𝙊𝙊𝙉

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noisymutantherelol · 1 year ago

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SKRRRRR

So lately i have been miserably waiting for s5 of lmk so I decided ,"damn it,I'm gonna make a lmk x oc series.",and that's what I fucking did I'm making a lmk x oc series and a oc from one of my fans

@shotofmomo (I need a character description pls)

Name:Legends never die down,(LNDD)

Oc's:Viper,Zhēn yí

Storyline

Driven to megaopils,Viper and her friend Zhēn yí out to seek The matter of the disruption going on in the celestial realm, as complaints from the people there are complaining about how things have been off lately so,The celestial court searched for the source of this and so happened to be coming from the mortal realm.

Nezha sent one of his warriors down to investigate the source Viper Zĳan,The Dragon of Lightning and The South,and Zhēn yí Master of (blank until I get a character description ya'll),Vipers most trustworthy Companion, will they find it? or is this story gonna get alot darker....

Anyway you better have those notifications on check cuz look out for this ok byyee

#lego monkie kid #lmk mei #lmk mk #lmk macaque #lmk red son #lmk mei x reader #lmk sun wukong #lmk x oc #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #lmk tang #lmk fanfiction #lmk nezha #lmk pigsy #lmk princess iron fan #lmk dbk

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lotusarchon · 5 months ago

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Lego Monkie Kid x Kinktober 2024

Yep. I have nothing better to do with my life so behold, LMK Kinktober again yay :D

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luxthestrange · 1 year ago

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LMK Incorrect quotes#84 YES IT IS!

Tang Sanzang: You need a hobby Wukong & Ao lie: We got a have a hobby! Tang Sanzang: Fawning over Y/n isn’t a hobby

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk #lmk x reader #lmk x y/n #lmk tang sanzang #lmk ao lie #lmk sun wukong #ao lie x reader #ao lie x y/n #sun wukong x reader #wukong x reader #monkey king x reader #wukong x reader x ao lie #lmk fluff #lmk incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes

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watercurtaincave · 1 year ago

Note

Your blog is so pretty!! Anyways can I request MK w a physically strong s/o? S/O likes to train a lot and is generally a good fighter <3

𖤓 !! — Maybe, thinking..? MK / strong! Reader (also tysm for the request, this was fun to write :3)

𖤓 !! — "right, so I want someone to explain how we got into this mess in the first place." Pigsy would ask as everyone took a pause on their respected task. Mei and Red Son were over in one corner, MK and you were standing in the center, Tang was with Pigsy, and Wukong and Macaque were in the other room; though they both would peak their head in, Macaque sorely unamused while Wukong was wondering why they had all been stopped. Surely, stopping everyone to ask one little question isn't the smartest thing. Especially when you were on a time restraint there was only half an hour left before everyone dies! (not really) "Well from what I remember.." Tang started, tapping his chin before he began to recount the details that lead everyone into this unescapable room:

𖤓 !! — MK, Mei, and you were at Wukong's 'shame temple' a few miles outside of the city. Ever since the Azure King was defeated, and no new villains seemed to be in the future, there had been a lot of down time for everyone. Though down time usually didn't halt any sort of training, especially when it was Wukong who was teaching the lessons. So, instead of spending your Saturdays at the arcade, or doing literally anything else, Wukong had the three of you train, for whatever reason.

𖤓 !! — It wasn't fun, not one bit. Especially since Wukong never really asked if Mei and you wanted to join, he just told you two to be there to help with MK's training. (I mean, if he had given you two the option, you and Mei would have said yes but it was a lot less fun when you're given no option.)

𖤓 !! — "And just like that, you can counter any attack that comes your way!" Wukong finished with a grin, jumping up and sitting back against the cloud that formed under him. He seemed rather indifferent to the staring kids, one of which was completely confused and the other two being mystified with Wukong's guidance. "You literally just told us a story about yourself!" You would point out, cocking an eyebrow up at Wukong with a suspicious look. What was a story from, probably, hundreds of years ago meant to help with basic counter attack training? But, Mei and MK seemed to hype up Wukong's story, leaving you stuck in the middle of their gushing. "Aw, stop it you two!" Wukong feigned being gushed and flushed, "I know, I'm just that awesome!"

𖤓 !! — Sadly, as you expected, being awesome wasn't exactly the recipe needed for MK to learn how to counter strike against an opponent. And he had to sit out after being bashed a few times by Mei and Wukong, as you refused to hit your boyfriend after he was ill trained my his mentor! Which Wukong seemed to put Wukong's panties into a twist: "I taught him how to do it! He just needs a couple more times to practice and it would be helpful if you helped!" Wukong bitterly stated, crossing his arms as MK laid under a pile of rock not too far away. His groan was the only thing you needed to hear to know that Wukong hadn't taught him shit. Mei rushed over to help MK out of his tough spot, as he was sore, and you only gestured over to the two with a 'you're seeing this, right?' to Wukong. Though he only glanced away, crossing his arms, with a denying face. Of course, what else should you have expected from the 'Great Sage' himself? "Well if you think you know better, then you fight me!" Wukong would mumble under his breath, unaware that you had caught his words. But you crossed your arms and shrugged your shoulders, "Sure." Leaving a slightly startled Wukong in response to your response, and a worried MK and Mei.

𖤓 !! — Now MK knew you trained, and he knew you were strong, you've helped on missions before and even helped MK with some more hand-to-hand combat training when Wukong wasn't available. Yet he couldn't help but worry about your duel with Wukong! And it wasn't him doubting you in no means, it was more of a rational thought process? You were mortal, Wukong was immortal. Wukong had the staff, you choose to fight with your fists. You both were trying to prove some point that MK had just barely caught when Mei managed to grab him out of the rubble. It was kind of an unfair fight. Plus, Wukong had hundreds of years of experience over you! "Hey, you know you don't have to do this... right?" MK shouted as he pressed an ice pack to his cheek, Mei rapping another bandage over his injured arm. "Don't worry about me, I got this." You would mumble back to MK, glancing over at him with a small smile, before turning back to Wukong. You were going to put this godly monkey in his damn place!

𖤓 !! — Well, at least you intended to. But now you only sat to the side of the training ground, having been dragged away and forced to sit on the ground by MK and Mei as you wouldn't stop trying to fight Wukong. Even after he may or may not have thrown you into a mountain and slapped you around with his staff, but hey, you managed to get a good few punches on him! "Self confidence and being overly cocky won't get you anywhere in a battle!" Wukong would scold you, despite you not being his student, as he stood beside the trio. You would flinch as MK would tie the bandage on your arm a little too tight, but gave Wukong an unamused glance anyways. You couldn't believe he was tying to scold you after you proved your point! Sure, you didn't win, but you showed Wukong didn't really teach MK how to counter attack, "You're literally bleeding out of your nose right now." "Alright, can we not fight right now? You're both bleeding!" MK mumbled, fumbling with the bandages as Mei ran back out with some disinfectant spray. She paused upon seeing MK bandaging up your wounds and shouted at him, playfully, that he needed to disinfect the wounds first!

𖤓 !! — "And then Wukong said: 'If you had used your head you would have figured out all the times you could have counter attacked me.' and then that somehow spiraled into us coming into this escape room." Tang would finish his little recap to a heavily unamused Pigsy, who slowly turned over to where the two culprits stood with their partners. To say he wasn't upset would be an understatement. "We're in here because you challenged the Monkey King to an escape room to see who's smarter?!" Pigsy watched as you pieced your lips to his shouting, glancing away from him for a moment. You would slowly shrug your shoulders before letting out a questionable, "Yes?" To which the room only grew silent. The only sensible ones giving you and Wukong an glare, one you could only guess meant that you both somehow overlooked something. Something important, something critical. Something that may or may not make this whole trip a waste of time, other than a lovely 'family bonding' experience. "But we're all completing the same escape room." Red Son would finally point out. Ah! There is was! That one critical thing that was overlooked, there would be no clear victor because everyone's combined efforts were being placed into this escape room. Yeah, neither of you thought that one through.

𖤓 !! — "-And hey, maybe we didn't complete the escape room, but we sure learnt a valuable life lesson!" Wukong would start after everyone had gathered back into Pigsy's after the escape room. Even with the hour time-limit that was given, no one managed to pool together a way to escape the escape room (that didn't include breaking things). Wukong waited for someone to amuse his banter. Though he stood discarded in the center of Pigsy's as everyone took a seat either at a booth or the counter. Tang would order a bowl of noodles and Pigsy went to go cook said noodles while you sat next to MK, watching as Red Son and Mei bickered over something. Macaque would snicker, sitting in a booth behind Wukong, as he was still ignored; He was enjoying Wukong getting a little of his own medicine for once, "No one cares, Wukong!" And despite the defiantly odd day that just occurred, you were finally able to just sit back with your boyfriend, even more a minute, as his mentor went to set down defeated. You would take MK's hand under the counter, watching as his attention would peak and he snuck a glance over at you. He grew a little flustered upon seeing your smile and couldn't help but smile back. No matter how strong either of you are, physically or mentally, there was surely always a weak spot in both of you for each other.

𖤓 !! — I couldn't add this into the story, but here's some extra points I wanna include!!: - MK def worries about you when you help in missions, no matter how strong you are. It's just something in his brain because he wants to protect everyone and his friends. So even if you insistent you'll be fine, he sends you off with an MK clone (if he can't personally tag along) as back up! - You also, in turn, worry about MK and want to do your best to protect him; But, you understand a little better than MK that he can protect himself. Still, all this work with Wukong does leave a rather bad taste in your mouth. - MK secretly is really glad that you're strong. Sure, he gushes about you and supports you through all your training and battles, but he never realized how glad he actually is that you're strong. He only would realize after the fight with ink him, as your strength, both physically and mentally, kept him sane during the whole fight. Especially after wards, when he had kept trying to deny the new power... he has glad you were there. - Probably has you play all those carnival games that are strength-related. You let him pick out the prize. Cute couples date, always. - If you want to, he'll come with you if you want to train or go to the gym. Though, 8 times out of 10 he will just be there for moral support; Sitting in a corner nearby on his phone, cheering you because he's so proud of you no matter how much you can lift. Though, defiantly sometimes uses his golden sight to make sure you're not straining yourself. - Cools down at the zero gravity arcade with you after <3

𖤓 !! — all writing in this page belongs to @watercurtaincaves, please do not repost on other sites, plagiarize, or steal. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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artficlly · 18 days ago

Text

smog & spirits: lucky's choppery (series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, vague smut, implied blowjob, mention of abortion (not to reader), mad scientist tony stark, laboratory, mentions of gambling, alcohol, smoking, vague mentions of physical violence, angst, some fluff (?), criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: wowee, i wrote this so fast (i already had the dialogue and some writing ready for like 80% of this chapter, so it was pretty easy to fill in the rest). hoping to at least get one more chapter out but no promises, beginning to feel a bit burnt out and my birthday is on sunday yippe. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love @calwitch permanent taglist: @globetrotter28

main masterlist | series masterlist

The crowded sea of workers flooding out of the factories for the evening parted like a tide before Bucky, his strides purposeful, shoulders squared. The setting sun cast the Smokestack District in a haze of burning amber and ashen grey, the air thick with soot and the sharp tang of metal. Even here, in the industrial veins of Sootstone, men instinctively stepped aside lest they be trampled underfoot.

This Stark friend of his was apparently buried deep within the district, tucked away in whatever workshop or lair he called home. Even if their fathers had once been in business together, Stark seemed to have chosen a different path that didn’t dance as closely with the violence that pulsed beneath the city’s surface. You had no doubt that his work, whatever it was, still dipped into the murky waters of illegality. The Smog Boys and their associates rarely kept company with anyone clean.

You let your mind wander, dissecting the possibilities, if only to drown out the roar in your thoughts. For once, Bucky Barnes and his uninvited quests were a welcome distraction.

But no matter how much you tried to shove it aside, Becca’s revelation clung to you like a thorn buried deep beneath your skin. Her words would haunt you long into the night. You knew they would. You’d toss and turn, picking them apart, unravelling them until they unravelled you.

Your father—the man who had half-heartedly raised you, the man who had buried himself in drink and violence, the man who had driven your mother into an early grave—was not your father. Not the man you had thought him to be at all.

The realisation felt like a gaping wound in your chest. The years you had wasted on him, the countless excuses, the hesitant forgiveness. It was all for nothing. You had bent yourself backwards trying to make sense of him, trying to make peace with how he had broken you repeatedly. And yet, he was just another name to add to an already endless list of cruel men.

And your mother—gods, your mother. You had resented her for the life she had chosen, for trapping you in the Warrens, for binding you to poverty and suffering. You had never understood why she stayed, why she had chosen him, why she hadn’t run far from Blackstone and disappeared into the countryside. But now, it all slotted into place like the final piece of a puzzle you hadn’t realised was incomplete.

A sickness curled in your gut. You had hated her.

Your lip was raw from how hard you had been chewing it, and you forced yourself to focus on the roll of Bucky’s shoulders as he marched ahead, unphased, a cigarette hanging from his lips. You hated yourself for ever blaming your mother when she had endured atrocities. She had shown remarkable strength in escaping, in carving out a life of her own in the shadows of Sootstone. She had run from that wretched place, hidden in plain sight. Marrying your father…it must have been a last resort. Perhaps the only man who would take in a woman in her condition.

And she had never told you. Neither of them had. Did your father—no, the man you had believed to be your father—even know the truth? He had never spoken of the Church of Light beyond vague, half-drunken warnings, letting the weight of it gather dust in your memories. A ghost of something unspoken.

But you had never forgotten.

There was a plan forming in your mind—a quiet, insidious thing. A plan to destroy the Church of Light, to repay them for the cruelties they had stained your bloodline with. That day with Michael—gods, Michael— it had given you confidence, perhaps even delusion. You had power. Power strong enough to tear them apart, to bring them to their knees. But beyond any misplaced ideas of grandeur, you knew a truth. You couldn’t act alone. Not in such an obvious way. The Church was vast—multiple temples, hundreds of members. A massacre would not go unnoticed, and the coppers wouldn’t hesitate to drag you to the gallows. It had been a miracle you had escaped them as a teenager.

And every power, every body in this realm, had limits.

You’d never had the full opportunity to explore the depths of this cursed power you’d been gifted, this death that clung to your very being. You couldn’t know if you had what it took to destroy them all in one fell swoop without destroying yourself in the process.

Your gaze flickered back to Bucky. His expression was guarded, jaw tight, eyes locked ahead as smoke curled from the cigarette between his lips. Even now, with his muscles still taut from anger, he exuded a dangerous calm. A readiness to act, to strike.

You could use him.

You could use him, use the Smog Boys to rip the Church of Light apart. If it became a gang war, the coppers wouldn’t so much as bat an eye. They’d let the criminals handle their own if Bucky's name was attached.

And you would be protected—so long as you could keep his attention.

The thought twisted something deep inside you. Was it wrong to think this way?

Then again… had he not used you, too? Had he not sought you out for your power, for what you could do for him? Yes, he had paid you, but at what cost? There was no permanency in this. You were just another indulgence, another fleeting pleasure. He had told you himself—he didn’t think himself a man capable of love.

Maybe you could have loved him. But him loving you?

It would be foolish to think so. Foolish to believe he could care for you beyond lust, beyond the pull of your body against his.

Your thoughts twisted in on themselves, tangling like a mess of threads in your mind, squeezing, choking, refusing to come undone.

The streets of the Smokestack District grew narrower as you followed Bucky deeper into its labyrinthine alleys, the industrial skyline choking out what little remained of the evening light. Buildings leaned into one another like drunks in an embrace, their brick faces blackened with soot, their windows murky with grime. The air stank of coal smoke, damp rot, and something metallic—oil, or maybe blood.

At the end of a particularly filthy lane, past a crumbling row of tenements, you finally stopped in front of what appeared to be an unassuming butcher’s shop. A weathered wooden sign, its red paint peeling, hung above the entrance: Lucky’s Choppery. The display window was lined with thick cuts of beef and strings of sausages, though the glass was so smeared with grease it barely reflected the gaslights flickering in the street.

You eyed the butcher’s block just inside, where a cleaver had been buried deep into a slab of meat, its blade glinting under the weak glow of an overhead lamp. The floor, lined with well-worn tiles, bore the dark stains of years of blood and brine.

Bucky shoved open the door without hesitation, the bell overhead giving a feeble jingle. A lanky kid behind the counter—maybe eighteen at most—jerked up from where he’d been counting money, his dark eyes widening.

You glanced around, taking in the place. “Your friend Stark… is a butcher?”

Bucky huffed, crunching his cigarette beneath his boot. “It’s a front, doll.”

“Good to know…” You exhaled slowly, shifting your weight as the kid behind the counter fumbled with the till.

Bucky stepped forward, tapping the counter with two fingers. “Parker. Here to see Stark.”

The boy—Parker—flinched, his expression tightening. “Stark—you’re supposed to say Lucky—”

Bucky’s brow creased. “Who the fuck is Lucky?”

“It’s the codeword—” Parker sucked in a sharp breath, pressing his lips together like he was already regretting this conversation. “Mr. Stark is busy, I’m afraid Mr. Barnes…”

Bucky gave him a flat look. “Kid, I’m sure he is. But do you think he’s gonna be pleased if he finds out you turned me away?”

Parker swallowed hard. His shoulders sagged, and with a sigh, he jerked his head toward the back. “Alright… come on through.”

You followed Parker behind the counter and through a heavy wooden door into the backroom. The temperature dropped immediately. The air was thick with the lingering scent of salt and raw flesh. Rows of bloodless animal carcasses hung from iron hooks, swaying slightly from the draft that slithered through the room. You stepped carefully as Parker led you toward a door set into the far wall. The door's surface was scratched and worn, but the metal handle was polished from years of use.

Parker pushed it open, ushering you both in. You winced as you were blinded by the buzz of lightbulbs hanging overhead, illuminating the space.

A laboratory.

It was a chaotic masterpiece of metal and magic, stitched together in an unholy fusion of science and the occult. Copper pipes ran along the walls like veins, some hissing with steam, others crackling faintly with unnatural energy. The exposed brick was scrawled over with chalked equations, half-translated runes wedged between calculations that looked like they belonged to some deranged engineer’s fever dream.

Workbenches sagged under the weight of strange devices—bronzed contraptions with whirring gears, delicate instruments of glass and silver, and something that looked suspiciously like a heart pulsing inside a vat of thick, viscous liquid. Along the far wall, a large metal figure loomed, wires and arcane sigils wrapping around it in a spidery embrace. A dull red glow pulsed from within.

And at the centre of it all, hunched over a mess of gears and copper wiring, was the man himself.

Stark.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His dark hair was a mess of careless waves, tousled as if he’d run his fingers through it a hundred times while deep in thought. A faint shadow of stubble darkened his sharp jaw. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, exposing forearms slathered with grease and soot. His vest, once fine, was smudged with oil and singed at the edges, and his half-buttoned shirt carried the distinct stains of burnt metal and something vaguely alchemical.

Perched on his nose was a pair of brass-framed goggles, their lenses thick and dusted with soot, the left one cracked down the middle. A tiny, flickering spark of blue danced across the metal frame as if whatever enchantment he’d woven into them was barely holding together. He had the look of a man who was equal parts genius and disaster, the kind of bastard who could build something to change the world but would probably set his own lab on fire in the process.

And, of course, he didn’t even look up as the door swung open.

“Who's this? A present for me?” His voice was rough. He finally glanced up, gaze narrowing as he studied you. “I see magic about her—”

“She ain’t for one of your experiments, Tony,” Bucky interrupted, stepping between you and the mad scientist. “She’s with me.”

“Huh.” Stark exhaled, leaning back against his worktable with an air of disappointment. “Shame. And touchy, too… I take it this is your infamous spirit-raiser?”

“What?” you muttered, stiffening.

“He experiments with magic and technology,” Bucky explained dryly. “Thinks he can… power metal with magic.”

“That’s possible?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Stark’s expression turned downright wolfish. “Oh, it’s possible. Just needs the right conduit.” He stepped forward, his fingers twitching like he was already picturing carving something out of you to power one of his creations. “I mean… if I could just experiment with a drop of your magic, it doesn’t hurt, I promise… just a prick, bit of bleeding, long-term possibilities can include sudden death buuut—”

Your expression melted into something of horror.

“Oi, that’s not why we’re ‘ere, Tony,” Bucky cut in sharply. “I’m hostin’ a party. You’re invited.”

With a flick of his wrist, he produced a pristine envelope from inside his suit jacket, the deep red wax seal still unbroken. The contrast was almost comical—elegant, refined, and utterly out of place. You doubted Bucky had penned the invitations himself; the script was too precise and delicate. No, he’d likely had some poor girl painstakingly scrawl each one by hand while he barked orders from the corner of a smoky room.

Bucky’s expression remained flat, but his tone had an unmistakable edge when he added, “Preferably, you’ll keep your hands off my bird while you’re at it.”

You had to fight the urge to snap your head toward him in shock. His bird? Had one week tangled in your sheets left that much of a mark on him? The man hadn’t even taken you on a proper date—unless you counted brutalising a handful of Iron Rats as a romantic outing.

Stark paused, his keen gaze flicking between the two of you like he was dissecting a particularly interesting experiment. The glint in his eye was pure mischief. “Your bird, aye? Didn’t realise things were so… serious.”

Bucky scowled, jaw tightening. “Shut ya fuckin’ gob and take the invitation.” He flicked the pristine envelope onto Stark’s cluttered workbench, where it landed atop a mess of copper wiring, scattered blueprints, and a wrench smeared with something that definitely wasn’t just grease.

Stark picked it up, popping open the seal with ease. “Alright, alright.” His expression shifted slightly as he skimmed the contents. “This ain’t got anything to do with that Smokin’ Jacks business?”

Bucky smirked. “Somethin’ like that.”

Even with the vague way they spoke, you had heard rumours.

The Smokin’ Jacks were a gang of gamblers—slick bastards who ran their operations like clockwork, their fortunes made not through brute force but by sleight of hand. They had gambling dens throughout Blackstone, and their debts were written in blood.

The Smog Boys and the Smokin’ Jacks had long held a hesitant truce—so long as the Jacks didn’t turn their tricks on the poor bastards in the Warrens, there was no need for bloodshed. Their scams and schemes were reserved for the rich and reckless of the Flower District, the men who never knew the weight of a real loss.

But lately, there had been whispers. The Jacks weren’t keeping their word. Their debt collectors had started crossing into Smog Boy territory, leaning on the desperate and the weak, pressing them for coin they didn’t have.

Bucky didn’t take kindly to broken deals.

Stark folded the invitation with an almost exaggerated neatness, tucking it into the inner pocket of his grease-streaked waistcoat. His eyes gleamed, sharp and knowing, the kind of look that suggested he saw a game unfolding that only he knew the rules to.

“Guess I’ll be there, then.”

Bucky gave a short nod as if he had expected no less. He reached into his coat pocket, retrieving his cigarette case with a flick of his wrist. But before he could light one, you stepped forward, words spilling from your lips before you could stop them.

“You just wrapped up that business with the Iron Rats, and now you’re goin’ after the Smokin’ Jacks? Can you be any more reckless—”

Bucky turned his head toward you, exhaling slowly through his nose, cigarette forgotten. “Don’t make me remind you whose fault that Iron Rats business was.”

Your jaw clenched. “You’re the one who escalated it—”

“Yeah, well, you sure were into it, weren’t you?” His voice dropped, low and taunting, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Sure fucked me afterwards like you did—”

Heat shot up your spine, equal parts fury and disbelief, and before you even realised what you were doing, your hand was fisted in the sleeve of his coat, yanking him toward you. He barely moved, only grinning down at you with that infuriating glint in his eye, like he was daring you to do something about it.

Behind you, Stark let out a low whistle, then a chuckle, clearly enjoying the show. “Well, well. You two are a real pair, aren’t ya?” He leaned back against his workbench, arms crossed, amusement dancing across his features.

Bucky rolled his eyes and wrenched his arm free, though not before squeezing your wrist briefly—just enough to remind you who was stronger. “We’re leavin’,” he muttered, turning toward the door.

“Try not to start a war before the party, Barnes,” Stark called after him. “But if you do—” he grinned, “—make sure I get front-row seats.”

You cast one last glance at the chaos of the lab, the scattered notes, and the eerie hum of machinery before following Bucky out. You didn’t need Stark to tell you that. A war was already brewing.

—

Your front door creaked as you pushed it open, the familiar scent of candle wax and herbs greeting you as you stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the only real light coming from the amber glow of the streetlamps outside, their hazy beams spilling through the lace curtains. You shrugged off your coat, glancing over your shoulder as Bucky followed you in.

Only, he didn’t move the way he usually did.

Gone was the effortless swagger, the quiet, calculated control he carried himself with. Instead, he lingered near the door as if he wasn’t sure whether to stay or turn and leave. The sight unsettled you more than you cared to admit.

“You stayin’ the night?” You asked, tone casual despite the tension between you. “Or are you gonna go over to keep an eye on Becca?”

Bucky exhaled, rubbing at his jaw before answering. “No. I’ll have Nat watch over Becca. Think I’m the last person she wants to see right about now.”

There was something distant in his voice. You had noticed a shift in him during your quiet walk back from Stark’s lab. You turned, leaning against the edge of the table as you studied him. His shoulders were taut beneath his coat as if he were bracing for something.

“Are you angry with her?” you asked carefully. “For what she said to me?”

His lips pressed into a firm line. He took a moment before answering. “Can’t say I’m not a bit upset, doll.”

You sighed. “I wouldn’t take it out on her. She was just tryin’ to protect you.”

His head tilted slightly, expression unreadable. “I can make my own choices.”

“Bucky… I just—” You began but you cut yourself off as the gangster finally spoke.

“I’m…” He hesitated.

You blinked. That alone was enough to unnerve you.

You had never seen Bucky hesitate, not like this. He always had something to say—sharp, sure, commanding. But now, something unfamiliar wove itself into his voice. Vulnerability.

“…Grateful.”

The word came quietly like he almost couldn’t bring himself to say it, and when you looked at him, really looked at him, you saw it—the slight furrow of his brow, the way his hands flexed as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

“For what you did for Becca today,” he finished.

You swallowed hard.

“Well,” you sigh, “I couldn’t have just left her there—”

“I’m serious.”

His voice was firm now, but there was a softness beneath it. He shifted his weight slightly, jaw working as he forced himself to continue. “I know she is cruel, but she is my blood. My responsibility.”

You let his words sink in, picking them apart in your head.

“I don’t think she’s cruel,” you murmured. “I think she’s a woman who’s built her walls so high to protect herself. Now she can’t tell a friend from a threat.”

Bucky huffed a quiet breath, barely a sound at all.

“I can tell you why she’s like that,” he said. “And I’m afraid I’m on that list.”

Your brows pulled together. “I wouldn’t blame yourself—”

“Sometimes I worry, doll.”

Something in his voice… a weight settled in your ribcage. It was lower now, rougher like the words were being dragged from some part of him he never let anyone see. His fingers twitched at his side, clenching once before flexing open again. His jaw went tight, and when he finally spoke again, the words came slowly, carefully.

“I worry that I am becoming my father.”

Silence stretched between you. You didn’t think. You just reached out, fingers brushing over his hand, grounding him, offering something—anything—before he could retreat behind the walls you could already see rising.

But it was too late.

His body went rigid, tension snapping through him like a wire pulled too tight. His hand twitched under yours as if instinct told him to grip, to hold on, but then…He pulled away. The moment his expression hardened, you knew. Whatever softness had been there was gone in an instant, buried beneath cold calculation and the armour he had worn for so long. “I should go,” he muttered, voice clipped.

“Bucky—”

But he was already turning, already stepping away.

The door swung open, and before you could say another word, he was gone, the night swallowing him whole.

You stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where he had been, his presence lingering like a ghost you couldn’t quite banish.

—

Three days later, you made the—likely foolish—decision to deliver a care package to Becca. You knew you’d probably receive a tongue-lashing for it, but a small, wicked part of you wanted to be the better person. You had sourced some gin from the Flower Districts, strong, quality stuff that the upper-class women drank. A classier alternative to the harsh whiskey that the Smog Boys brewed and likely already lined Becca’s shelves.

The alley was dark and damp, the scent of piss and rotting wood lingering in the narrow space. Your breath curled in the cold air as you hesitated in front of her door, fingers tightening around the woven basket in your hands.

Maybe your presence wasn’t the best idea, given what she was recovering from. Perhaps it was best to leave the package and disappear into the night unseen. The message would be there, but you’d be spared the inevitable onslaught of curses she would toss your way. You imagined whore would be right at the top.

With a quiet huff, you bent to place the basket on the doorstep. Inside, nestled together, was the bottle of gin, a fresh loaf of bread, butter, and some cold-cut meats you had hunted down at the Sunday market. You knew Bucky and Nat were caring for her, but you wanted to be sure.

The door creaked open just as you straightened up.

Bucky.

He stepped out, locking up behind him, keys dangling from his fingers with an idle sort of ease. He was dressed in his usual suit—dark, well-fitted, with the coat buttoned up against the cold. The brass glint of his pocket watch chain caught the dim light as he turned to you.

For a moment, you thought you saw something flicker across his face. Surprise, maybe. Or recognition. But it passed too quickly to catch.

“You just can’t help yourself, huh?” His voice was low, edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

Your mouth opened before your mind could catch up, fumbling for an excuse. I was just making sure she’s alright. I was worried. I care. But instead, you settled for, “Sorry, I was just… ah. Care package. For Becca. Thought she’d need it.”

Maybe it wasn’t best to admit to your convoluted, backward scheme of making the woman feel bad through kindness.

His gaze dropped to the basket at your feet, scanning its contents with a slow, deliberate look before exhaling through his nose. Without a word, he bent and picked it up, turning it slightly in his hands.

“She’s out with that Brackett kid,” he muttered, shifting the basket to his other hand.

You hesitated. “That’s… good?”

Bucky arched a brow as he pulled out the bottle of gin, tilting it slightly to read the label.

“Still gonna kill him,” he said flatly, setting the bottle back down.

You bit back a smirk. “Of course you are.”

He didn’t smile, but something about his posture loosened—just a fraction. The last time you had seen him, he had stormed out of your flat. You couldn’t tell if he was still feeling stand-offish, or if the sharpness in his tone was just habit. The keys clinked softly as he turned them over in his palm, watching you with that same brooding expression.

He placed the basket on the hallway table, pulling shut the door and locking it with practised ease.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” he murmured, voice measured, almost lazy. But there was something deliberate in it, like he was waiting to see how you’d respond.

You hesitated, shifting on your heels. “Didn’t think you’d want to.”

Something flickered in his gaze, just for a second, before he looked away.

“Yeah, well,” he said, slipping the keys into his pocket. “You keep showing up, don’t you?”

You exhaled a short laugh, though your pulse was a little unsteady. “Guess I do.”

Bucky made a noise in his throat, something between amusement and resignation. Then, with a tilt of his head toward the street, he stepped past you.

“Walk with me,” he said, not looking back.

It wasn’t a question. And, despite yourself, you followed.

The night air bit at your skin as you fell into step beside him. The streets of the Warrens were quieter in this part of town, though the distant hum of nightlife still clung to the air—rowdy laughter spilling from taverns, the occasional shout of a drunk stumbling home.

Bucky’s flat was deeper in the district, past the noisier streets, tucked above an old tailor’s shop. He didn’t say a word as he led you up the narrow stairwell, the scent of dust and mothballs lingering in the close space. At the top, he flicked the key between his fingers before unlocking the door, pushing it open without much ceremony.

Inside, it was… surprisingly nice. Not lavish like Becca’s, but well-kept—orderly. The furnishings were simple: a sturdy wooden table, a leather armchair that looked well-worn but hardly used, a small bar cart against the wall with only a handful of bottles. Unlike Becca’s place, which was decorated with velvet drapes, gilded mirrors, and delicate trinkets, Bucky’s was bare. Functional. You got the sense that he didn’t spend much time here.

He didn’t look at you as he shrugged off his coat, draping it over the chair. Instead, he reached for the bar cart, grabbing a bottle and two glasses. “Drink?”

“Sure.”

He poured the amber liquid out and slid one of the glasses toward you across the wooden table, his own drink resting loosely in his grip. You hesitated for only a second before taking the offered glass, the cool weight of it grounding you. The scent was rich and smoky, promising a slow, lingering burn.

Silence stretched between you for a long moment, the soft clink of glass against wood filling the space. Finally, you exhaled, rolling the whiskey between your fingers before speaking. “Are we going to talk about it?”

Bucky lifted a brow. “About what?”

“You storming out of my flat the other day?” You sighed, leaning back against the edge of the table. “Look, I didn’t expect a thank you if that’s what’s got you all wound up.”

His gaze flickered to yours, sharp and searching, something unreadable in the depths of his blue eyes. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. “I’m not wound up.”

You scoffed. “You’re impossible.”

That pulled a smirk from him—slow, teasing. “Did you want me to stay?” There was a beat of pause before he huffed a quiet laugh, swirling the whiskey in his glass. When he finally looked at you again, amusement curled at the edges of his lips. “Did you miss me?” he drawled.

“Maybe.”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, but there was something else beneath it—something you couldn’t quite name. His gaze flickered over your face, searching, considering.

“Careful, doll,” he murmured, tilting his glass toward you in a slow, deliberate toast. “That almost sounds like an invitation.”

He watched you as you lifted the glass to your lips. The first sip hit hard, burning its way down your throat and curling warm in your stomach. You coughed, barely suppressing a wince as the heat spread through your chest. Bucky smirked, tilting his own glass to his lips with far more ease.

“Shit, is this Smog Boys stuff?” You rasped, blinking away the sting.

“Off the market, yeah.” He hummed, stretching back as he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sank into it with a sigh. “Some of it, we brew strong. Just for us boys.”

Your gaze flickered to his hands, the way his fingers idly traced the rim of his glass. He had settled into his seat with the ease, legs spread wide, confidence dripping from every lazy shift of his body. The sight of him like that, whiskey warming his blood, watching you with quiet interest—it sent a pulse of heat low in your stomach.

You tipped back the rest of your drink, hissing at the burn, then shrugged off your coat. The heavy fabric slipped from your shoulders and crumpled to the floor between his feet. Bucky’s gaze sharpened. You lowered yourself onto the discarded coat, knees pressing into the worn wood through the fabric, your hands smoothing up the inside of his thighs.

His body reacted before his words did. His legs spread a little wider, welcoming you in, his breath hitching just slightly. You nuzzled against the rough fabric of his trousers, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“What’re you…” He trailed off as your nails ghosted over the buckle of his belt.

His hand caught your wrist, and you smirked at him, tilting your head. “I wanna taste you.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, his fingers tightening on your skin for just a moment. Then, with a quiet curse under his breath, he tossed back the rest of his drink and set the empty glass down with a heavy clink.

“Shit, doll,” he muttered, his voice rougher now, lower, as his free hand went to his belt. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

From where you knelt, you could see the way his breath had quickened, the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before undoing his belt.

Your pulse thrummed in anticipation, thighs squeezing together beneath your skirts. Bucky exhaled sharply as you leaned in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against the fabric covering his length. His head tipped back, a quiet groan slipping from his lips, one hand smoothing through your hair.

He was always so controlled, always so composed—but now, beneath your touch, you could feel him unravel. And gods, you wanted to watch him fall apart.

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