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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

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VI. In for Life*

Summary: The final installment of his enormous dumpster fire :’) Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N: NSFW! It has arrived along with a short epilogue at the end. Thanks everyone for all your love for these three bastards (and Buckeye, too!)

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

It’s hot.

It’s so damn hot and your back is slick with sweat.

Your eyes fly open to the stifling humidity of the dark room. A heavy hand is on your hip, lazily draped over and brushing against the soft skin of your tummy. A back is pressed against your chest, heavy breaths drawing in and out, slightly wheezing. Even atop of your feet, there is a weight.

Jesus (Steve), Mary (Bucky), and Joseph (Buckeye).

You are completely smothered by all of them. When any of you fell asleep—and when Buckeye found it appropriate to flop himself on top of it all is bewildering.

There’s not even a sheet or comforter on top anymore, both things piled on the floor like a lumpy mountain. Buckeye stirs the same time you do, opening his mouth in a squelching yawn and tipping his head back. You glare at him in the dark and uselessly wiggle your toes. “Get off!”

“Buck!” You hiss. He lolls his head sideways and flops his tongue out at you before nuzzling back down onto your ankles, setting his chin on what is probably Bucky. His butt wiggles around, trying to find a new comfortable position, legs kicking yours.

“Your fucking goblin nails! Ouch, Buck!”

Steve stirs with a moan, turning over and throwing his heavy arm over your shoulder, pressing his face into your chest with a contented sigh. It could be sexy, you think, but you’re sure that your boob-sweat is being inhaled right now straight into his lungs.

Bucky grumbles into your back, shuffling until he’s squeezing you too tightly between him and Steve.

“Are you guys awake?” You whisper, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

You release a long-suffering groan when all that responds is another one of Buckeye’s squealing yawns. You slowly pick up Steve’s arm to move it back, but it’s heavy as hell and he keeps grunting into your chest. Somnambulist pervert.

Bucky’s arm moves down, fingers slowly coming to rest on your hip and then slowly—oh hell.

“Dude.” You mutter. His fingers dig into your ass as his shoulders begin to shake behind you. This motherfucker had been awake this whole time, just watching you suffer in-between two human and one canine heater. You swat him away, but he shoves his face deeper into your neck until his breath begins to tickle. Your hands slap harder and faster, “Fuck! Stop! I’m gonna scream!”

“What time is it?” Bucky asks, pulling away with a pant, blowing his hair from his face.

“Way past when we were supposed to wake up. Steve is out, Buck.”

“Yeah he doesn’t really have a middle ground. He’s either awake or he’s dead.”

A silence passes before Bucky’s hand finds the waistband of your romper again.

“You wanna fuck?”

You slap him away with what a shriek might be if someone could do it with their mouth closed. He’s awfully bold and unfiltered now that you’ve shown him your hand and you think he’s probably not bluffing. Bucky laughs again behind you, pulling on the back of your outfit, tugging it a few times and letting it flap. You realize, with a little bit of fondness, that he’s trying to cool you off.

“C’mon.” He slips his legs out from under Buckeye, who whines in betrayal, but watches him with interest anyway. Bucky tugs you out of bed, moving Steve’s arm and pushing his face away from your chest. “Kid’s always been a tits guy.”

“Yeah. Yours are like a B-cup, huh?”

Bucky ignores you, “I like ass. You’re a pain in my ass sometimes… but I bet one of these days, I’ll be a pain in yours. Literally.”

You turn red as a beet, sputter a few times, and then just shut up for your own damn good.

“Just kidding.” Bucky continues, leading you out of the room, “It’ll be mostly pleasure. We’ll find a good balance, sweetheart.”

He traipses into the kitchen, entirely content to strut around as you close your eyes and count to a million because Bucky Barnes has just one-upped your comment so hard you have absolutely nothing else to fire back at him. You think you might swoon; you’re both proud and devastated.

It’s the middle of the night and Bucky is preparing to brew a pot of coffee. You tap him on the shoulder to suggest that it would be a bad idea, but he bites your pointer and snarls like a wild dog.

“God. Once you crack the surface, there’s so much of…this…” You gesture vaguely up and down, “Wha—wait a minute.” Your eyes narrow, “Did you just snarl at me? You don’t snarl at me; I snarl at you!”

He spends another few minutes repeating the same noise, just to get on your nerves because he knows there’s not much you can do but give him lip. Frankly, the tables have turned, and Bucky is giving you quite a run for your money when it comes to sass.

It’s kind of hot.

You watch the way his arm flexes when he reaches forward to turn the knob on the stove top. The other one rests loosely on his hip where the band of his sweatpants hang, string untied. His shirt is crumpled unevenly, one hem lower than the other as his metal fingers play with the edge absentmindedly. It’s a bit of a shock for you to realize that Bucky Barnes putting the kettle on is what gets you going.

You’ll take it, though.

You grab a glass of water and down it in three seconds flat before you do anything stupid, but when you turn around you catch him staring at your ass. So, you stare blatantly back at his tush, eyes comically wide.

“Those your bedroom eyes?” He asks, grinding the coffee beans and dumping them into the press. When the kettle begins to screech, he takes it off and fills up the carafe, tapping out five minutes on the microwave timer.

“Buck,” you call seriously, hopping up to sit on the counter, “It’s almost three—neither of us should be drinking coffee.”

“No.” He corrects, “You shouldn’t be drinking coffee. It doesn’t affect me. I just like the taste.”

“I’m gonna drink some if you drink some.”

“What are you, a lemming?”

“Yes. If you jump, I jump. If you sip the chocolate bean juice, I sip the chocolate bean juice.”

He laughs, and you do too, finding the sound of it more charming each time you hear it. God, he’s so stupidly handsome. You kick your foot out, poking his side with your toe until he shifts and slyly nestles himself in between your legs. “Stevie’s gonna get jealous.”

You seriously doubt there is any merit to that statement. If anything, you think, Steve is probably creeping around in the shadows with your dog, cheering Bucky on silently. He’s a motherfucker like that, orchestrating all of this like a horny puppeteer.

But no, really, he’s very sweet. They both are.

Leaning in, you tug Bucky forward by the collar of his shirt, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles against your lips, and you’re half tempted to pull away just to get another look at it on his face; it’s something you’ll never get enough of.

His cold hand runs up the length of your spine while the other slips beneath the opening of your romper, tugging playfully on the fabric of your underwear. “You---mmmf—pervy old fuck.” He keeps on, slipping his tongue into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip when you try to pull away for air. He could smother you, and you’d let him. He’s acting like it’s his intention, anyway.

A part of you feels alleviated, as if the new intimacy has stripped everything else away. You move naturally with Bucky, running your hand through his hair, trailing your fingers over his shoulder and arm—something you were previously concerned about even bringing up. Another part of you is a bit more grounded, too.

The questions you have for them keep getting brushed off. Some things aren’t as easy as they make them seem. Certainly, this relationship won’t be?

“Don’t start this again.” Bucky murmurs, as if reading your thoughts.

“I can’t help it!” You whine. “I’ve never done this before! Nor will it ever happen again—the two of you aren’t exactly regular people, you know?”

“It better never happen again.” Bucky places both his hands on your waist, “Once you’re in, you’re in for life, kid.”

Your eyes widen when you look at him, jaw set firmly, eyes searing into yours. “We’re serious about you. So, what’s it gonna be?”

The timer beeps and he turns around to carefully push the plunger into the press, leaving you staring at the dark tresses of his head. Your heart beats in your chest like a collapsing drum, crashing down and falling apart at Bucky’s bare feet.

He pours two mugs and empties the rest into a thermos for later.

Behind the thin cover of the steam, you avert your eyes. “Y-yeah.” You mutter.

“Yeah?” Bucky takes a sip. You’re not made of super soldier, so you wait for the coffee to cool.

“Yeah. Yes.”

Bucky licks his lips and tilts his chin at you, smiling, “Drink your coffee, sweetheart. Let’s go fuck.”

It’s … you can’t even. That’s what being with Bucky is like.

In the cool chamber of the guest room you’ve been sleeping in, he lays you down on the mattress and taps his fingers up and down your arms until your skin crawls with goosebumps. His touches are feather-light, deliberately gentle, teasing and tugging on every last one of your stretched nerves.

No, you would have never guessed upon meeting him that he could be capable of this kind of tenderness. He was joking when he said fuck, because you are certain no part of what he will do to you is as indelicate as that word. Fuck can be reserved for another time— but this, this feels remarkably close to love.

He’s stripped down and sitting up, letting you see him as he is under the soft lamplight glow. Bucky tucks his hair behind his left ear and waits for you.

“Yeah?” He asks quietly, timid smile forming on his lips.

You sit up too, face him, and pull the straps of your outfit down until it pools around your waist. Then you lift yourself up out of it and crawl into his lap, pressing your body flush onto his.

“Yeah.” You sigh, “Yes, Bucky.” And then you can’t help but laugh just a little as you bury your face into his neck. It’s silly. “God—who would have thought?” You ask, “Us? Right now?”

He grins too, kissing your shoulder, “Thought I was going to murder you that night.”

“Yeah. I would have been fine with it as long as you took care of my dog.”

He bites the same place he just kissed. “Don’t ever. Again. Never.” The finality of his statement shuts you right up with a quick yelp with his teeth clamped down on you.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Shit sucks, but now you got us.”

“Okay.”

He nips at your neck, hand rearranging your legs until they lock in behind him. He is warm and hard, your own hands travel over the plane of his chest and around to trace the muscles of his back.

The door squeaks open slightly. Both of you turn to see Steve entering with a lazy smile, flushed pink and shirtless.

“You sleep good?” Bucky asks before he returns to your collarbone, making a trail down to your sternum.

“Mhm. See you got started without me.”

“Sorry.” Bucky responds, not sounding like it at all, “Couldn’t get ya to wake up.”

He rocks his hips up, pushing against your underwear, and you let out what sounds like a balloon on its last squeak of deflation. Steve chuckles and finds a seat behind you, flattening his palm on your lower back, urging you forward.

You should probably be nervous, but for some reason you aren’t. Steve’s hand anchors you, holds you against Bucky carefully. The three of you balance on this tightrope wire, looking over the edge down into shadows.

But there’s a net there. And when you all fall together the love will catch you.

It’s all love.

Steve kisses your back and scoots forward until his chest is pressing into your spine. His other hand pulls your panties to the side and Bucky takes the opportunity to slowly press in.

You arch forward into him, your breasts to his mouth. They’re one and the same, guiding each other, murmuring in low tones and whispers. Slowly, as they move and touch and consume you, you become the same, too, until all three of you melt into the darkness.

Morning arrives and pulls you awake in a jarring grip. Your back is sweaty again, completely drenched and slippery as you wiggle your way out from two naked bodies.

Steve stirs slightly, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. “Mm-uh. Stay.” He tries to convince you by pressing his torso to your side, rubbing himself against your thigh. “We can do it right here.”

Your face burns hot as Bucky groans on the other side.

“I gotta get up and do some work, Steve.” You run your hand through his hair, feeling the warmth of his scalp, “I’ll be back to wake you two. We gotta go to King’s Island today.”

He kisses the top of your head sweetly, but you have to get up or else the work will be so piled on you’ll never resurface from it.

You slip from them, leaving Steve’s grumbling behind.

Furious clicking finds Bucky and Steve when they rise an hour later. You sit in the living room with your tablet balanced in your lap, the thermos from last night empty. They watch proudly as you flip through an enormous journal full of notes and then turn to another binder full of print-outs.

“Hey.” You say distractedly, “Pancakes and sausages’re in the oven keeping warm, I got three more exams and then we can get started.”

Buckeye is faithfully by your knee, tail tapping against the cushion at the two men in the hallway.

When they don’t move, you turn and look at them, “What’s up?”

Steve’s arms are crossed as he leans against Bucky. They share silly smiles because you’re crosslegged again and surrounded by paper and books and your fingers are moving even too fast for super soldiers to keep up with.

“Lookit her, Stevie.” Bucky grins, “Smart girl.”

You make another charming ppppffftptbbblblbppttt and roll your eyes. You know he means it but the compliment is so strange escaping his lips. It’s still new, his affection. Steve’s too, you suppose. Your cheeks flare anyway as they pad into the kitchen for breakfast.

You were sure to make precisely a bajillion blueberry pancakes this morning and a tray full of sausage links, saving just a few of each for yourself. Between reading a book and taking notes, cooking on a giant griddle and sticking sausages in an oven made the tasks relatively simple. You’ll also read and grade on the way to the park.

In the corner of your eye, Steve pokes at a fluffy stack with his fork. Bucky bites into a sausage and waggles his eyebrows. They both snort and start flicking each other off. You have to focus, but damn if they don’t make it hard to stay on track.

Spending the last two months in their presence has made little changes to your routine that you’re now thankful for. Before them, it was nothing but school and Buckeye. Hardly any time to cook or to enjoy yourself. There was nothing but monotony and the proclamation of your dog being the only tether to this world.

Your poor therapist, worrying her lip each time you came by in a rush between your classes, words tumbling so fast she had to make you stop and literally breathe each time.

Now, there’s so much laughter. So much silliness.

Your cheeks continue to burn.

There is so much love.

Steve plants a syrupy kiss to your lips. Bucky presses a berry onto your tongue soon afterwards.

The tablet is pulled away, books too. Even Buckeye is picked up and placed onto another chair. Your disagreeing voice is smothered by two mouths, taking turns overwhelming yours.

“I gotta--”

“Nope,” Bucky hushes.

“Not right now.” Steve confirms. “Gonna do you on the couch.”

“It’s a nice couch,” Bucky states plainly, “Real nice. Soft leather.”

“Your parents’ couch.” Steve adds.

Bucky laughs in your ear, pressing your chest down until your back hits the soft cushion, “That’s direct action, baby.”

“Oh no. Oh no. Oh no oh no-ohnonononono…” And then finally, “FUCK NO!”

The shriek flings itself back behind your shoulder as the rollercoaster drops down and takes your stomach right out of your throat along with your words.

Bucky is cackling madly to your left, Steve on the other side of him whooping. He’s yelling something that is making Bucky laugh harder, but you can’t hear it for the whips of wind tearing through your ears.

“Technically!” You yell, “King’s Island is an expansion of Coney— but no one really remembers—- Ah FUCK!”

The loop slams your head into the cushioned rest, and you bite down on your cheek. You’re going to vomit. You scream again when the next drop throws your stomach up into your diaphragm.

As the ride slows, you blink the tears away and sniffle.

“Aw, baby. It wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s the wind you jerk! I’m not actually crying!”

“Are you gonna throw up?” Steve wonders, thinking on the memory of the Cyclone.

“No! Don’t get your hopes up, Rogers. You’re the only one here who’s a bitch.”

Bucky laughs and tugs you against his side. The three of you trek onward to the next destination, caps pulled low on your heads so that neither of them are recognized. Luckily, it’s overcast again so Bucky wearing a long sleeve isn’t so strange.

The only strange thing is that three of you are full grown adults at the park without any children. Either way, there are occasional stares.

A frozen banana is shared and devoured in three bites from three different mouths. Five more rides are taken and when you take them into the line for Flight of Fear, Steve peers around curiously at the very X-Files décor. Real Roswell, you share, pretending to be that guy from the History Channel, Aliens!

At the loading station, Steve bristles and you’re not sure why until you see the cryotube props. Bucky pats him on the shoulder, “Don’t get offended for my sake.” He climbs into the seat behind you and Steve and plays with your hair when the shuttle clatters forward into the dark.

“I didn’t realize.” You whisper in Steve’s ear.

“I can hear you.” Bucky replies.

When the rain hits as you’re buying your second frozen banana, Steve is ready to go home. He’s not spending another day sopping wet on an outdoor excursion. The white of his shirt turns peach like his skin.

You take them to a bar, instead, even though you promised that you were just showing them the scenic route before heading home. In the car, Bucky grew suspicious when you began to drive in the opposite direction, but you distracted Steve with more threats of Skyline, and he was quick to reel Bucky to his side.

It’s still somewhat early, only around eight or so, and the bar is barely half-full, mostly couples who are at the end of their day-drinking and want to relax with video games.

“Knock yourself out. All arcade games are free.” You grin happily, “This place is awesome. And the drinks are--” You kiss your fingertips and blow it into the air, “Be back in a sec.”

They watch you prance over to the bar and wait in line, bouncing on your feet. Steve shrugs and begins to wander while Bucky lingers by the table, eyes fixed on you. When you arrive at the bar, you smile cheerily at the bartender and show him your ID.

You’re much nicer to strangers than you are to… Bucky scoffs inwardly, superheroes, apparently. The more Bucky watches, the bigger his smile grows. You’re leaned forward, listening intently as the guy points to each item on the menu. It’s cute how your nose scrunches up at something you don’t like, or the way you nod enthusiastically when something catches your fancy.

Then, suddenly, Bucky begins to grow apprehensive because why are you spending so long at the bar? And why are you leaning forward so far and smiling so much? You have never smiled for that prolonged of a time at anything other than your dog.

You catch his eye a few seconds later and wink at his scowl. Upon returning with three drinks in your hands and a wrapper of something in your mouth, he understands now.

“That dude gave me free drinks and a popsy.”

You slide one glass to him and keep the others. Then, you tear open the plain package and reveal a bomb pop—red white and blue. “Popsicle!” Then you stick it in your mouth and swirl the ice around until it turns a muted purple, staining your tongue.

Distractedly, you look around for Steve who is standing at a pinball machine, tapping furiously on the paddles.

Bucky sends you a withering look.

“Don’t be a wet blanket. I got the drink for you. It only cost me five minutes and a smile.” Then you dunk the popsicle in his cocktail and give him a cold kiss on the cheek. He shakes his head, glares back at the bar where the guy is looking over and stands up so that he’s blocking the view to your back.

Next to Steve, Bucky tattles.

“Oh, be quiet!” You cry, hand coming up to cover his face, “Mom and Daaaaad!” You whine nasally, “Can I go out to plaaaaaay?”

“You were flirting for a free drink!” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me, there are three?” You steal the popsicle back and crunch through it.

Steve huffs, crosses his arms, and lets his pinball fall straight in-between the immobile paddles. The machine warbles sadly before honking out game over sirens. Lights flash around the rectangle of its frame.

“Well—” Steve pauses, “Well, good for you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” You smile. Two girls to your side giggle at the conversation and you turn and curtsy to them. “Jonathan with the eyes is a sucker, ladies.”

Bucky grumbles and throws his drink down, snaps the wooden stick in half with his teeth. Everyone has fucking eyes, he thinks.

An hour later and all arcade games exhausted, Bucky drives home in silence, fuming. He’s still not over the fact that you saddled up next to some guy, but he just has to get over it. It’s really not a big deal. Steve winks at you from the front seat, catching your eye in the mirror.

“Funny movie?” You ask, kicking your feet onto the top of the coffee table, remote in hand and clicking mindlessly.

“Rom-com.” Steve requests, pointing to a title above two generic white actors giving each other enamored glances. Lame.

“Zombies.” Bucky deadpans.

They both turn to look at each other, shaking their heads in disappointment at what’s been thrown out. You sigh, trying to find something that fits all three.

“Tucker and Dale, it is.”

When another college kid gets impaled, Steve pauses the movie.

He is not a fan. “I don’t get it!” He keeps saying, “Just call the cops!”

You throw your head back, “It’s bumfuck nowhere!”

He picks the next one.

“I hate this.” You stab the red button on the remote and shut off another mistletoe kiss. How does he even find Christmas Lifetime movies in the middle of the summer?

Bucky snatches it from the couch and clicks the screen back on.

“Zombies.” He proclaims again.

“It’s just not logical!” Steve cries, “They’re dead!” His voice rises until you think it could crack the chandelier in the living room, “What—why would they even be eating anything? They’re dead!”

“Zombies!” Bucky shouts.

“No!” You scream in reply, stomping your foot. In the background, Steve continues his rant—something about Banner finding a cure, something else about the sun, another thing about regardless of how the world is terribly messed up, God will not blight the Earth with zombies, of all creatures.

“Zom-bies.” Bucky hisses, glaring at you, as if you are the point of origin for his ire.

Buckeye hops off the couch and plods over under the coffee table. He snorts and shuffles around and scratches the rug before lying down and staring at the three of you like you all share one single braincell.

When Bucky hollers ZOMBIES for the final time, you lock eyes with your dog, who whines pathetically and turns away, as if he is embarrassed by the humans.

Cillian Murphy is twenty-something and gorgeous. You are obviously drooling over those enormous blue eyes and pouty, swollen lips, even if he is wind-chafed and underweight, running around in a flapping hospital gown.

Steve gets an idea when you lick your lips distractedly, reaching over the back of Bucky’s neck to twist a lock of your hair in his finger. Bucky shrugs him off, but he continues. 28 Days Later or not, Steve’s on a mission; fuck the zombies.

Obviously, you have a type.

But if he voices it, Bucky might go slash Jonathan’s tires and find Cillian Murphy somewhere in Ireland and do the same thing to him, too. New love, Steve muses, such a delicate thing.

He gets up and sits on your other side, pulling until you are resting on his chest. “Is it scary?” He asks.

“Ooooh, so scary,” you squeal, and then suddenly jump when one of the undead shrieks and tears down the road, “Fuck! These are runners!?”

“Eat him.” Bucky goads, “Eat him, goddamn it.”

Steve pulls your chin away from pointing at the screen and kisses you slowly, tugging you back each time you continue to turn, fixed on the scene. “Mmm, baby.” He sighs, “C’mere.”

“Dude, Steve, I— he’s mmmhm.. okay, wait…would you—- mm!” His tongue slides into your mouth as one hand grips your head. Okay, this fucker knows what he’s doing. “Buck,” you gasp, “fill me in on the deets because—”

“Because you have a crush on this guy, too?” Bucky glares, crossing his arms. You pull away from Steve and weave each attempt he makes at devouring your face.

“Are you serious?” You ask, “You are sipping hella dumbass juice right now.”

“Jealous juice.” Steve corrects, and you smirk at him because the two of you combined are a lethal dose of one-hundred-percent pure bastard straight into the bloodstream. Leaning over, still strapped in on Steve, you clasp your hand over Bucky’s jaw, pinching his cheeks together with a glare.

“You said in for life, you brat.” You mutter, “I’m in a relationship—not dead. Not ungrateful or unfaithful, either. Handle the fact that I’m a person, or get out.”

His eyes widen the same time Steve’s does because you’ve never been this serious with them before. Your tone is grave and your stare is fiery. In the middle of four-hundred solid pounds of serum-injected mass, you are a stark contrast, but somehow holding all the cards.

Something prods your inner thigh and you narrow your eyes, turning to Steve. “Really, Stevie? This is what does it for you?”

He only grins back, licking the corner of his mouth, “Can you blame me? Guess I’ve got a type too. Bossy. Mouthy.”

Bucky groans and smacks the back of his head into the cushion. “I guess I do too. Fuck.”

It’s as close to an apology as you’ll get, and you love that stupid, stubborn boy so you’ll take it. Steve smiles at him and then at you before pulling you closer by your hip bones, letting the heat of him burn past the layers of your clothes.

Bucky is content to watch, waiting for your permission.

Linking your fingers through his, you place both entwined hands on his thigh and kiss Steve, letting your tongue touch his in a slow, teasing lick. He chuckles into your mouth, grips the back of your head in a blistering passion and pushes his chest into yours until it feels like he’s crushing your rib cage. If this is how you die, flattened between two searing-hot (literally and otherwise) men who—Christ, love you for whatever reason—it’d be a death you look forward to.

Steve pulls away suddenly, eyes twinkling with some secret knowledge.

“What?”

“You called me Stevie.”

“Did I?”

Bucky grins, “Ooooh, Stevie…” he doesn’t know how to squeal so he says it in a low, husky tone instead and you swear Steve moans a little before he breaks out into a wide smile, so bright you have to squint. Jesus, Captain America should be on T.V.--- wait, he already is. You are so completely lost in that look he’s got on, like you’ve presented him with a puppy or something that you hardly notice Bucky to your side, humming a low throaty tune.

“So…” he sings, gesturing to the space where you have leaned away from Steve and then down to the tent in Steve’s jeans, “You guys fuckin’ or what?”

____________

The end of summer break nears and you’re ready for two years of writing your dissertation before you can fuck off out of the program with a diploma and a J-O-B. It’s both exciting and terrifying at the same time, but if you’re good at anything, it’s putting on a front. This semester you are working as a TA for one of your favorite professors and juggling an off-campus job at the local coffee shop.

Three more days left until the start of the semester and you’ve already met early with your professor and created your email list.

Buckeye is well, drooling all over the place, flopping down and staring out the window. Same as ever. Manhattan assholes still glare at him when you walk him down the street but it sure helps when Steve or Bucky are by your side and glare right back.

It’s cute.

Two boyfriends.

Who the heckin’ would have thought that the night your life flashed before your eyes twice (unnamed goon and Bucky Barnes’ fist nearly in your face) that you’d come out of it with two semi-retired Avengers attached to your hip?

Three days left and you’ve convinced them to jet off on a tiny mini-cation. You wrestled the wheel from Bucky and drove an hour east from the DFW airport with Steve singing along to Sad n’ Sexy Santa while Bucky kicks his seat repeatedly. It makes your heart swell because damn, how’d you get so lucky?

The interstate reaches cropped green plains as the metroplex skyscrapers sink further away into the horizon behind you. From the backseat, Bucky sits up, leaning on Steve’s chair as he stares out the front windshield at a cartoonish yellow sign.

“What… is… it?”

You smirk. “It’s why we’re here. That, and brisket.”

“It’s a gas station?” Steve is confused, too. You’ve been tight-lipped about the entire thing. But his eyes widen before fearfully glancing back and forth across the colossal parking lot and the stretch of what looks like fifty gas-pumps. “Or is it an airport…?”

You lead them in and it’s like their whole world has turned upside down. Steve and Bucky stare at the expanse of seemingly never-ending aisles. People rush about, enormous bags of popcorn under their arms. Chips, candy, kolaches, bear claws, stuffed animals, clothing, Texas-shaped cutting boards, and blinged out purses. There is even an aisle dedicated to pebbles. What does it mean?

“It’s a Buc-ees.” You state, waving your hand in a wide circle, palm flat. “Whatdya think, Bucky?”

The pun is not lost on him and he grumbles.

“You dragged me all the way out here for this?”

“And brisket.”

“There’s brisket in Manhattan, baby.” Steve suggests, but you whip around and hiss at him, “Don’t you dare. Heathen. Ain’t no beef like Texas beef. Grade A, one-hundred-percent beef.” Then you pause and with an exaggerated raise of your eyebrow, pinch his bottom. “And you too, I guess.”

Steve yelps with a slight jump, turning redder than Buc-ee Beaver’s cap as the eyes of strangers find him.

Your Bucky doesn’t notice, only staring on mesmerized by the bustle of foot traffic and the smells of jerky, candy, and the fresh, burning scent of Pine-Sol cleaner. Ahhhh… a perfect combination.

“What is this.” Bucky mutters, “It looks like hell.”

With a clap on his arm and a proud puffing of your chest, you pick up a nearby orange shirt with the slogan You can go to hell. I’m going to Texas.

“Welcome to Texas, baby. Everything’s bigger.” With a perverted leering at his groin, you wink. "You’ll fit right in.”

#marvel #mcu #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #Stucky x Reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #reader insert #fanfiction #stucky x you #FiMS

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sheeple · 5 years ago

Text

The intern | 6: Morning mess

GIFS NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): intern!au / fluff / mild angst Group(s): NCT / Red Velvet Pairing(s): Moon Taeil x fem!reader Summary: The new Elysion Publishings intern is the youngest they ever had. It’s not a problem until she grabs the attention of the IT guy. Warning(s): Age-gap of five years [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

“Okay, so, it may not be the cleanest at the moment. I had a busy week and no time to clean”, says Taeil before opening the front door.

He lets me go in first before locking the front door behind us before taking off his shoes and opening the door connecting the hall and the living room.

A fluffy thing sneaks between the crack of the door and rushes towards Taeil. A big smile spreads on his face as he is petting the walking cloud.

“Ah~ Bong Bong-ie. Did you miss me?”, he questions the dog while squishing her cheeks. Bong Bong licks his hands as a response while waggling her tail. She really reminds me of Peanut.

Bong Bong suddenly turns her attention towards me and I smile, dropping down to pet her. She walks hesitantly towards, sniffing my outstretched hand.

Bong Bong looks me up and down, before turning towards Taeil, giving him the ‘are you serious’ look. He nods slightly and Bong Bong turns her head towards me, lunging at me and smothering me with little licks all over my face.

I let out a squeal and fall backwards, my back hitting the door and my butt landing on the ground. Bong Bong stands over me as she sniffs all over my face and especially in my ear.

“Bong Bong!”, scolds Taeil his dog as he off me by her collar.

As I stand up and brush the dog hairs off my clothes and butt, I say, “don’t worry. I’m used to dog-kisses and sniffles.” I smile and undo the ties of my sneakers, placing them neatly in the reck next to Taeil’s other shoes.

“Let me grab you an extra pair of slippers. Feel free to roam around, I’ll be right back”, he tells me before speeding off, the sound of footsteps hurrying up a pair of stairs being very loud through the apartment.

I walk further in and look around in amazement.

When you walk in, you look right at the amazing view the enormous window give of this little part of Seoul. Taeil has his tv-stand against the windows and the couch facing them.

Behind the couch is a relatively big kitchen for an apartment in Seoul. He has the basic appliances like the fridge, stove, and microwave against the wall as the sink is on the other side in a kitchen island with bar stools, the dinner table behind that.

“Amazing view, right?”, says Taeil with a smile in his voice as he walks down the stairs, which probably lead towards his bedroom.

I turn around with a big grin. “It’s wonderful. Your house is just great overall.”

His ears turn slightly red as he walks towards me with a pile of clothes and fluffy slippers on top of them. “I also fetched you some clothes to sleep in. The bathroom is next to the front door, left.” He points at the hallway and I smile, taking the pile of clothes from him and I walk towards the bathroom.

Bong Bong follows me as I get into the bathroom and lays on the floor with her head between her front paws, her eyes following my every move.

I let out a giggle when I put on the baseball shorts and sweater as they’re a bit too big for me, just like the slippers.

Once I emerge from the bathroom followed by the fluffy cloud, Taeil already has grabbed a pillow and blankets and made up a makeshift bed on the couch.

He looks up when he hears the scuffing of the slippers against the floor. He blinks a couple times as he sees me, his mouth slightly agape.

“Something... wrong?”, I ask concerned and look down, making sure I’m wearing the clothes correctly and nothings crooked or ruined.

“Yeah... Eh─ no. Anyways, I made you a bed on the couch because I knew if I would offer my bed, you would refuse and throw a fit until you finally would sleep on the couch.”

I giggle and fluff up the pillow. “You know me too well.”

“Well, if you need something, just ask, okay?”, Taeil says with raised eyebrows as I nod.

“Actually”, I say and stop him from turning around. “Do you maybe have an extra charger for my phone? I accidentally left mine at home this morning and it’s almost dead”, I say, scratching the back of my neck while pressing on the home button, a huff leaving my lips as I see there’s only twenty per cent left.

“Of course”, smiles Taeil and walks towards the tv-stand, grabbing a charger out of one of the baskets and plugging it in the wall next to the couch.

“Here you go”, he smiles and gives me the end and I take it, thanking him while plugging my phone in.

“Goodnight, (Y/n)”, says Taeil with a tired smile before walking up the stairs.

“Sleep tight, Taeil”, I reply and take place on the couch.

I sigh deeply and let the events of today replay in mind. A deep blush creeps on my face again as I think of how closely Taeil and I have been today.

I feel my heart rapidly beat in my chest and lay a hand on top of it. Don’t do this now, heart. I am not ready for that.

Once the first rays of sunshine come through the blinds, they hit my bare legs which peaked out underneath the blanket, spreading a comfortable warmth across them. A wet tongue licks all over my cheeks and I groan, turning away so I lay on my back and I place an arm over my eyes.

Bong Bong nudges me again and I turn my head, raising my eyebrows at the walking cloud. She looks at me before turning around and walking towards the front door, scratching it as a sign she wants out.

I let another soft groan and look up towards the second floor balustrade, searching for any sign of Taeil.

I get up from the make-shift bed, the blanket falling on the ground next to the slippers. I shove my feet into them and yawn, stretching my arm above my head and crack my shoulder joints, wincing at the sound of my bones popping.

I walk over towards the stairs and quietly climb up, peering over the edge to see if Taeil’s awake. But what I see is a very cutely sleeping Taeil, curled up in a ball and hugging his pillow.

I chuckle softly, my mind wondering if he would engulf me the same if we would cuddle.

No! Bad (Y/n)! Bad thoughts! No time for crushes and fluffy thoughts.

I shake my head, quickly walking down the stairs before I get any more crazy thoughts.

While pulling on my sneakers, I search around for Bong Bong’s lease and a spare pair of keys to take with me.

After some snooping around, I find them both and exit the apartment, Bong Bong happily pattering next to me as I push in my earphones and playing some lo-fi playlist, skipping down the stairs as I slide my phone into the pockets of the baseball shorts.

I quickly find the park nearby and walk around, letting Bong Bong do her deeds before returning back.

When I enter again, the apartment is still dark so I just assume Taeil’s still asleep. Jeez, what a sleepy boy.

After releasing Bong Bong from her lease and putting on the slippers again, I walk towards the kitchen and begin to cook up some breakfast for the both of us.

My phone plings, notifying me I have a message and I look.

I take another peek upstairs and see that he’s still asleep, only this time he lays flatly on his belly, his cheeks mushed against the mattress and hair in his eyes.

Deciding that I will wait until he’s up to eat, I grab my laptop and get stationed at one of the barstools, pulling my headphones out of my backpack and finishing some freelance stuff I’ve been working on.

After around half an hour, I think, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and I look up with a smile.

“Oh, you’re awake”, he says, his voice coarse from just waking up as he rubs his eyes.

I giggle softly as I look at my phone for the time. “Only since eight am”, I say and Taeil turns around, looking at the clock which shows that it’s currently half-past nine.

Taeil frowns. “Something happened?”

I shake my head with a smile. “Nothing big. Bong Bong just wanted to go for a walk.” I look at the dog that lays at my feet and pet her fluffy ears.

His cheeks head up. “I am so sorry. Bbong-ie is a princess sometimes and when she wants a walk, she wants it now.”

A giggle escapes my lips as I slide off my chair, onto my knees and squish Bong Bong’s cheeks together. “And right you are, little princess.”

Taeil is at loss of words as he watches me interact with his dog. In his eyes, the cutest thing ever.

“You really adore dogs, don’t you”, he says, smiling softly and squads down while scratching behind Bong Bong’s ear, her head leaning to the side.

“Well, I told you I have dogs back home and I just miss them. So Bong Bong gets double the affection I would normally give a dog.” I face Taeil and he nods slowly, probably recalling what I said last night.

“Yeah, a Beagle and a Frenchie, right?”

I nod and get up, feeling the blood slowly flowing back into my legs. “Yup. Also, by the way, I made breakfast.” I point towards the table and he turns around, wonder fill his eyes.

“You... you made breakfast?”, he questions while walking towards the table, looking around the different foods on the table.

“I hope I made it correctly. To be frank, I have never eaten a Korean breakfast.” I scratch the back of my head. “Google said this is typical so... enjoy?”

Taeil takes place on the table and I sit on the chair in front of him, watching his face carefully.

“This is... this is absolutely amazing, (Y/n)!”, he exclaims, taking the chopsticks in his hands and immediately digging in. “Holy damn”, he mumbles with a full mouth. “This is so good, oh my god.” He holds a hand in front of his mouth as his eyes roll back in delight.

A blush creeps on my face and I also begin to eat. My eyebrows raise as it is indeed pretty good.

“But what do you eat in the morning then?”, questions Taeil when he grabs his cup of coffee.

“Hmm...”, I hum, “back home I eat a bowl of yoghurt with sprinkles, strawberries in the summer when my mom gets them. Or toasted bread with cheese, if I’m lazy some Nutella or so.”

“Can you function on only pudding?”

As I nod, I stuff a fried egg in my mouth. “I would eat something again around ten so it’s not that bad”, I shrug.

“At school?”

A hum leaves my lips. “My first break of the three.”

Taeil smiles and leans with his chin on his hand, a chuckle leaving his lips. “It’s funny how I’ve heard you talk so much about your home and friends, but almost nothing about your parents. Why’s that?”

I lick my lips. “My mom and I are really close. I can talk to her about anything and nothing is too weird. But with my dad...” A sigh leaves my lips. “I love him and he really loves me, we just have similar personalities and that clashes at times.”

Taeil reaches across the table and grabs my hand, rubbing circles on the top. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell.”

I give him a sad but thankful smile, squeezing his hand before releasing it, running a hand through my hair.

“Okay, happier subject. What are you going to do today.” Taeil claps his hands together, sending me a smile.

“Firstly, I am going to do my groceries. I’m almost out of toilet paper and cereal. And then, around one, I’m gonna hang out with a friend of mine.”

“Mind if I tag along with you?”, he asks and I raise my eyebrows. “The grocery shopping”, he quickly adds, a chuckle in his voice.

“Sure, I guess. But we have to drop by my house so I can change in something more appropriate for the public eye.”

Taeil’s eyes look at my appearance in his oversized clothes. “I think you look great.”

I look away with a slight smile. “Yeah sure. I can’t keep walking around in your sweater all day─”

“─I don’t mind”, he cuts me off, a blush tinting his face.

My own cheeks also heat up and I chew on my bottom lip. “We’re... I can’t do that...”, I whisper.

He licks his lips, the air between us awkward before nodding. “Yes, you are right. Let’s just drop by your place so you can change.”

The car ride to my apartment and the walk towards the supermarket has been filled with silence and secretive glances.

As we’re standing still in front of a red traffic light, I turn towards Taeil and grab his arm. “I am sorry for what I said earlier. You’ve been nothing but nice to me and I screw it by being rude.” I look away and swallow, letting my hair fall in front of my face.

Taeil pushes the veil of thick hair away with a soft smile. “It’s okay, really. I understand. I mean... we’re not together so it was not right of me to suggest such thing.”

The traffic light turns green and we start to walk again with the mass of people, my hands still wrapped around his arm and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

“Well... I mean, it’s not like I would mind wearing your sweaters. It’s just that I was looking like a mess and my words just came out wrongly and...” I bite my lip while searching for his eyes, which are settled on the traffic light.

“You looked beautiful, this morning”, says Taeil bluntly. “You always do.”

My lips part slightly and I blink. I totally lost my ability to speak with his sudden found confidence. My heart flutters and skips a couple beats.

“Oh. Well... thank you.”

We finally reach the supermarket and I pull out a cart, signalling for Taeil to sit in it.

“What pfff hahaha no”, he laughs loudly, “shouldn’t I be the one pushing you around?”

I scoff while smiling. “The next time, okay?”

“Oh, so there will be a next time?”, he teases and leans against the cart, a slight grin adorns his pretty face.

“Just get in, you dork”, I grumble with a heavy blush on my cheeks as he climbs into the cart, sitting cross-legged.

“Off to the life support, my humble carriage pusher”, he jokes, stretching out his arm and pointing towards the alcohol aisle.

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seraph-novak · 6 years ago

Note

Locked in school!

Two people asked for the locked-in prompt, but I decided to go with a shop instead of school. I hope you enjoy it all the same 😊Also available on AO3 ♥

P.S. For some reason, this post doesn’t look right on the mobile app. The “keep reading” link is at the bottom of the story, and it isn’t displayed as an answer. Apologies for the annoyance.

TJ’s long legs made it difficult to keep up with him. Cyrus was practically sprinting as he struggled to fall into pace with TJ’s quick strides, his forehead slick with sweat and his chest wheezing with short breaths. It also didn’t help that he was trying to reason with his friend at the same time.

“I’m sorry, TJ,” he said yet again. “Both of your games were on at the exact same time! I had to pick one of them.”

“And you chose Buffy’s.”

“Well, yeah.” He tugged on TJ’s arm in a futile attempt to slow him down, but ended up tripping over a crack in the sidewalk instead. TJ glanced over his shoulder, obviously wanting to ask if he was okay, but carried on walking. “She’s my best friend,” Cyrus continued, “and you know how competitive she is. Without a strong support system, she becomes unhinged! She needs people in the crowd to keep her grounded.”

“And what about me?” TJ asked, the sharpness of his words making Cyrus flinch. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I need people in the crowd too?”

“But you won,” Cyrus lamely pointed out.

TJ scoffed. “Wow. Do you really think that makes it okay?”

“Of course not. But at least you had a good game!”

“It’s a shame you weren’t there to see it.”

“TJ, please –”

“Just leave me alone.”

Cyrus stopped in his tracks for a moment, wondering if he should give TJ some time to cool down, then shook his head and followed the other boy into a shop. TJ was pretending to browse in the snack aisle, pointedly avoiding Cyrus as he approached him and started talking again.

“You can’t keep ignoring me,” he said. “Communication is our strong suit!”

TJ picked up a chocolate bar and turned it over in his hands, closely studying the long list of ingredients on the back. Cyrus had never seen someone stare at a chocolate bar with such forced concentration before.

“Listen,” he tried again. “I really am sorry, TJ. If I’d known it would bother you this much, I would’ve –”

“Chosen me over Buffy?” TJ asked, lifting a mocking eyebrow. “Sure.”

When TJ returned his attention to the snacks, Cyrus finally saw red. He grabbed the other boy by the arm and dragged him down the aisle, ignoring his protests as he shoved him into a supply closet at the back of the store. The room was much smaller than Cyrus had anticipated, and he and TJ were practically chest to chest once the door was closed.

“What the hell?” TJ hissed.

Cyrus poked him in the shoulder. “You’re being really unfair!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! You’re acting like I purposely went to Buffy’s game to hurt you or something.”

TJ sucked his teeth. “Well, it did kinda hurt.”

“Yes, I know. And I’m sorry. How many times do you want me to say it?”

“I don’t care how many times you say it. It’s not gonna change anything. You chose Buffy’s game over mine, and that’s okay. At least now I know where I rank.”

Cyrus frowned. “Why are you so upset?”

“Figure it out.”

“It would be easier if you just talked to me.”

“Well, I don’t feel like talking.” TJ shouldered past him and opened the door, stepping out into the darkness of the shop. Cyrus was surprised to see the lights turned off as he followed him outside, glancing around the empty aisles with a sinking sense of dread.

“Um… TJ?”

“Why’s it so dark in here?” TJ asked, voicing Cyrus’ concerns.

The radio that had been playing on the counter was switched off, and the only sound in the shop was the low humming of the fridges lining the back wall. Cyrus spotted the open sign facing inwards, and his worst fears were confirmed.

“We’ve been locked in.”

TJ’s eyes turned wide. “What? No. No, no, no, no, no…”

“Calm down!”

“What d’you mean calm down?” TJ fished his phone out of his pocket and fumbled with it, spitting a curse at the lack of signal. “Crap. No bars. How the hell are we gonna call for help?”

“There might be a phone behind the counter,” Cyrus offered meekly.

TJ nodded his head and rushed down the aisle, double checking the front door was actually locked before bending over the counter and searching for a phone. Cyrus winced at his sigh of frustration and checked his own phone for signal. No luck. They were completely cut off from the outside world.

“What about a fire escape?” he suggested. “Do they lock those?”

TJ shrugged. “I dunno. Let’s find out.”

Cyrus watched him attempt to open the large, green doors, but they wouldn’t budge. TJ’s hands slipped off the metal bar, and he pounded his fist on the wall, splitting his knuckles. A bead of blood trickled down his wrist and pooled on the linoleum floor.

“Careful!” Cyrus said, gently touching the back of TJ’s injured hand and pushing it down. “Let me find a bandage for that.”

“Don’t bother,” TJ mumbled. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

Cyrus bit back the urge to fuss over TJ’s wounds as he kicked the door and collapsed in a heap on the floor. He looked dejected and emotional, and it pained Cyrus to think that he was the main cause of TJ’s dismay. For a few moments, he hovered by his side, thinking of the best words to say to him, but he ultimately decided to give him some time to calm down.

As he wandered around the store, he picked up some snacks, a few bottles of water, and a pile of random magazines. TJ frowned at his collection and continued picking at the dried blood around his knuckles.

“I brought us some entertainment,” Cyrus said, waving one of the magazines in front of TJ’s face with a smile. “Oh, look at this: ‘Ten Ways to Boost Your Butt’,” he read in a booming, commentator-like voice. “‘These top-secret tips will turn your behind from flat to firm in no time’.”

He glanced up at TJ, hoping for at least a smirk, but was saddened to find the same grim expression on his face.

“C’mon, TJ,” he pleaded. “This is gonna be a very long night if you ignore me the whole time.”

TJ gritted his teeth and turned away, wrapping his arms around his knees. Cyrus could see the slight tremble in his hands, the subtle tinge of blue to his lips… He realised with a start that it was absolutely freezing in here, and TJ was wearing nothing more than a t-shirt. He noticed the tiny hairs on his arms rising with the goosebumps prickling his flesh, and Cyrus immediately dived into protective mode.

“Hang on.”

He ran back into the aisles and returned a few moments later with a brown blanket, carefully draping it over TJ’s shoulders. It was a relief to see TJ relax under the warmth of the blanket as opposed to tossing it aside, as Cyrus had worried he might.

“Thanks,” TJ said, despite his unrelenting scowl. “Where the hell did you find this anyway?”

Cyrus rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… The pet aisle?”

“Is this a dog blanket?”

“Maybe…”

TJ stared at him in silence for what felt like hours, and then a small smile ghosted his lips. It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and Cyrus was determined to make the most of it before his grumpiness returned.

“Why are you mad at me?” he asked again, his voice soft. “I mean, really. Besides the obvious… Is there something else going on?”

TJ swallowed thickly, his smile fading. “It was a pretty big game for me,” he admitted in a whisper, “and I was really counting on you being there, cheering me on. I always seem to do better when you’re there. I don’t know why.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed, a single tear glistening on his cheek. “I guess it’s because I’ve never really had anyone supporting me before. All my friends are on the team, and my parents never bother to come to my games. You’re the only person who’s ever shown an interest.”

Cyrus’ stomach twisted with guilt.

“So when I looked out at the crowd, and you weren’t there… I dunno. I guess it felt like I’d lost my only supporter.” He wiped away the wetness on his cheeks, forcing a smile as he looked up at Cyrus. “But I know Buffy’s your best friend, and she’s important to you. I get that. I shouldn’t be mad with you.”

Cyrus sat next to him and squeezed his knee. “You’re important to me too,” he said. “And I’m so sorry for making you think otherwise.”

TJ met his eyes with a hesitant smile, then lifted the blanket. “You wanna share?”

“Sure.”

Cyrus snuggled up to TJ so the blanket could fit around them both. It was a tight squeeze, but he wasn’t complaining. He quite liked having the excuse to sit close to TJ, their arms pressed together and theirs fingers brushing beneath the blanket. He felt a rush of giddiness when TJ wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer, giving him no choice but to tuck his head under TJ’s chin.

“I’m sorry too,” TJ said, “for getting angry with you.”

Cyrus smiled. “It’s okay.”

After a while of munching on snacks and watching the day roll into night through the glass doors, Cyrus finally found the courage to break the comfortable silence with another question: “Why do you play better when I’m around?”

TJ glanced down at him and shrugged. Even in the darkness, Cyrus could see the blush in his cheeks.

“You believe in me,” TJ said, “and that’s enough to make me wanna win. For you. To make you proud of me. To make sure you never stop believing in me.”

Cyrus stared at the side of his face for a moment, then tilted his chin downwards and planted a kiss on his cheek. His lips burned against the blood rushing to TJ’s face, his entire body trembling as he cushioned his head against TJ’s chest and closed his eyes, smiling at the sound of TJ’s heartbeat throbbing against his skin.

“What was that for?” TJ asked in awe.

“For lasting luck,” Cyrus told him. “So you’ll always know I’m rooting for you, even if I can’t be there.”

TJ buried his face in Cyrus’ hair. “Thanks, Underdog.”

“No need to thank me,” he said. “That’s what best friends do.”

“Just friends?”

Cyrus grinned. “Well, boyfriends too.”

“I like that better.”

“Me too.”

And when the shop keeper returned several hours later, Cyrus and TJ didn’t even rush to get out the door. They were quite happy where they were, cuddled up together beneath a musty-smelling dog blanket, their hands clasped together and their hearts beating as one.

#tyrus #andi mack #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #tyrus fics

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dsmadmin · 3 years ago

Text

#GoodAsHell

Written by: @demonhunter1887 , @DemonicGeneral_ & @LilyResurrected

Jacob: I suppressed my California memories years ago. At least I thought I did. But they all came rushing to the surface when I turned on the news. There had been an increase in the number of people picked up for solicitation and public indecency.

There were only so many details the friendly floating head from the news could share with the public. This seemed eerily familiar. The vibration of my phone pulls me from my thoughts.

"What do you want?" I answered. I didn't bother looking at the Caller ID. It didn't matter who it was. They wanted something from me.

"Jacob Greyman?" the small voice on the other end of the line answered.

"Guess you should know who you're calling before you pick up the fucking phone, right?" Irritation was evident in my voice. "What do you want?"

"I'm Sister June," she said, "from the Cathedral of the Holy Cross."

Of course, I thought, Catholic churches were always so pretentious.

"How can I help you /Sister/," I responded.

"The Prince of Hell has risen," she said.

"Which one?" I asked, "My fath-- ... Lucifer created several."

"Asmodeus."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Asmodeus: -Standing on the second role balcony he looked down upon the ground of people. Lights flashed and changed colors as the music offered a beat to move by. He could feel the sexual prowess coming off the crowd, many of who were engaged in sexual acts right in front of others. The club had so much potential as the group of women lying in the bed behind him would prove. He'd been sent back to complete their mission, his to seed the world of many demons as he could. The humans made it so easy, they succumbed to their desires so easy it didn't take much of an effort on his part. MDMA was being passed out and only increased things. Five more beautiful women were brought to him and the others were taken away to the warehouse beyond.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Jacob: "No wonder this shit looked familiar," I mutter into the phone. I open my laptop and peck out a few keys.

"I've dealt with him before," my lips pull into a slight smile, "he does make things... /interesting/ doesn't he, Sister?"

"Sinful," she says, "utterly utterly sinful."

"What you call sin," I tell her, "most people call a good time. But Asmodeus' isn't just trying to get laid. At least that wasn't his prior MO. He wants to create more halflings."

"Yes," she answered, "Demons that pass as humans."

"And fuck if that wouldn't be a terrible thing," I responded, "Send me the details you have. Has he picked a woman to carry his seed? Most don't survive the possession."

"That's why I've called you," Sister June stated.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Asmodeus: -Cages descended from the ceiling overhead holding nearly nude dancers, screams went up as the dancers sprayed the crowd with water. Bodies rolling into each other as the new beat started up. The lust thick in the air. Bubble butt, black hair, and blue eyes mounted a pole swinging round. Locking her leg around the pole leans back exposing most of her breasts in the tiny halter top she was wearing. A blonde guy in the crowd leans in and kisses her. Within minutes they're both on stage fucking to the beat as the crowd cheered them on. Asmodeus shoved another woman off, the pile of corpses was piling up. Looks at one of his demons.- Get this shit out of here. -Lighting up a cigarette, walks out to the balcony shirtless looking over the crowd. He hadn't even broken a sweat yet.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Jacob: "Of course," I snort, "the church rarely does its own heavy lifting." My fingers peck on the keys of my laptop searching for anything that would be a hotspot.

"There was a girl," the nun started.

"It always starts with a girl," I responded letting out a deep sigh. "Where is she?"

"She's locked at her parents home," Sister June says, "Cardnal Antonio is waiting for your there."

"Way to bury the lede, Sister," I replied, "Text me the address and I'll be there." I close my laptop and walk to the end of the hall. I open the closet and grab the bag from the top shelf. I put it away a long time ago. But I had to pull it out again.

I toss it in the back seat of my car and pull out of the drive.

:::::::::::::::::::::

Asmodeus: -He'd sent out some minions to see about the half-breed the church had killing his spawns hosts. He was both annoyed and curious. He wasn't completely human to have survived the encounters that were making it back to Asmodeus but confirmation had not yet be made. He wondered if indeed it was the same he'd encountered so long ago and had been bested by. Breeding at least another twelve women he went off in search of other distractions from the club and waited for information to come in.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Jacob: I pulled into the driveway of the address the nun had sent me. Typical Irish Catholic family home. Gawdy cross hanging over the door. I did nothing to detur the demon that ate the soal of the girl locked away inside.

I tilt my head, listening to them praying. I hated to be the one to tell them that it was too fucking late. The daughter they loved was gone. What was left was just an empty shell of what was once there. Maybe she was an innocent girl. But it didn't matter.

I tapped on the door, ready to put on the show before putting down the demon that filled the husk of the girl's vessel.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Asmodeus: -The priest had been cited the exorcism when the demon turns its charms on him and soon the priest succumbed to his lust of the flesh. The demon attacked the priest and took great pleasure in killing him, head snapped up baring teeth at the knock at the door.-

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Jacob: I follow the chants of the excersism up the stairs of the family home barely hearing the voices of the family begging for my help. It was too late for the help they wanted.

I swing the bedroom door open and see her. The girl was writhing against the prayers. It wasn't enough to destroy her. Priests never got there in time. They had to think and plan and pray before action. By then it was always too fucking late to make a real difference and the body was dead.

The girl started laughing when she saw me, "Yay, a threesome!"

"I don't think so," I told her, "neither you or he are my type."

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Asmodeus: -Her limbs contort in odd directions as she crotches like in the middle of the dead eyeing the newcomer.- Well that's too bad but don't worry you won't live long enough for me to care. -Launching herself at Jacob, nails scratching at his face with teeth snapping at his throat.-

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Jacob: I caught the flying girl as she launched herself in my direction. She was strong. I remembered how strong he made the carriers of his seed were. My fingers tightened around her wrists and I push her hand from my face.

I listen to the priest's fruitless effort to cast the demon from the girl's body. But there was no human soul remaining in her body. I push her hard against the wall, "Where is he?"

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Asmodeus: -Spitting in his face her head canted to one side her eyes inhuman looking now.- Don't worry he'll find you soon! -Using her feet she shoved with all her might against him and soon as she got loose she bit into the priest's neck ripping open his carotid artery. Blood sprayed over her and the wall.-

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Jacob: The blood spray coated the girl's room like a bad paint job. I quirk a brow and waive a finger letting a chair slide out from the girl's desk, I take a seat and watch as the possessed girl dances around in the sprays of blood. Like a child running through sprinklers. It was too late to save the priest.

It was likely too late when I walked through the door tonight. But I could report back to the Church that I tried.

"Where is he?" I asked her again, "You're dead either way. Doesn't matter to me."

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Lily: It was a typical day for Lily, waking up in a homeless shelter, leaving to go find one of the local dealers to get her fix. She took in all the sights; the couples doing their mushy things, people walking their dogs, squirrels playing with each other, the flowers that were blooming for the year, the trees having healthy leaves and children playing since school was out for the summer. Even though Lily was strung out on every drug imaginable it was nice to get a glimpse of the real world every once in a while. By the time she got to her local dealer she had went into depression mode from 'walking down memory lane'. "How'ya doin' today?" "Could be better." Lily answered the dealer. "Well hell, let's fix that." He said with a smile. The two had done their exchange then headed off in different directions. Lily had found an empty alley....well almost empty, the stray animals would dig through the trash cans for food. Ducking behind a trash can Lily had pulled out a tourniquet and wrapped it around her upper left arm. Once it was tight enough she pulled out the syringe that had the special juice that her body was craving. Lily had tapped on her arm to find a good vein, once it was found she popped the top off of the syringe and stuck the needle in then slowly administered the liquid. When the last drop was pushed in she sat back and waited for her high to kick in.

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Asmodeus: -His minions always on the lookout for potential humans, they frequented the slums. Forgotten people with no one to care or come looking for them. Coming across a junkie in an alley one grabbed her by the hair and tossed her over his shoulder disappearing into the buildings so she could be taken to his master along with many others. The hotel they'd taken up residence in was filled with people everywhere and sex was stout in the air. Moans and groans filled the air as they took up the latest finds tossing them on the floor at the master's feet. The possessed girl back at the house didn't cooperate just cursed him till she collapsed on the floor eyes blank and soul gone. One more death in a rising death toll.-

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Jacob: I stepped outside of the Irish Catholic home. The Church's cleanup team would be here soon to take care of the bodies.

I should feel sorry for them. The girl or the priest. But I don't. They are just a blip in the war between heaven and hell. That war had been brewing since the dawn of time it seemed. Each side worked to build its numbers. Both used deceit to get there.

I had to figure out what the target is now and how to slow or stop it.

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Lily: Being on her high, Lily's process times for reactions were delayed. She had no clue that she had been picked up until they were in the building. She had tried to ask where the minions were taking her but her speech was too slurred to understand. When they got to their master, Lily barely processed to put her hands out before her face hit the floor. Blinking a few times to get used to the different lighting she heard the moans and groans of pleasure. She raised her head to see more women around her and then her attention came to a man that was in front of her and all the women. What did Lily get herself into this time?

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Asmodeus: -The hotel was full of humans fornicating all over the place but the women were brought to his bedroom first. It was huge and many women laid upon it. Candles flickered around the darkroom. Lust was oozing from his pores and moans were slipping past the whores lips. They thighs opening and begging to be bred. Each one he took the lusting seemed to get worse, twisting and thriving they were ready for him without complaint. As he got to the latest arrival he ran his vessels fingers down her spine before rubbing his rather large members between her now stripped thighs. He breached her with out word and began to fuck her like the trash she was. He hoped some of these were strong enough to bring his children into the world and serve their master well.-

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