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buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago

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go green

a/n: feeding u children w a lil somethin before i put out pt 6 of afl and another frat!buck piece! sorry i've been a lil mia, i was very much so having a crisis bc someone i see everyday got covid (dw i'm vaxxed & neg tho!) so now all my friends are in qtine :( anyways, without firther ado... here is high!frat!bucky! this is your content warning that drugs such as marijuana is a heavy theme in this piece, and so is sex (penetrative). if this makes you uncomfy (or if ur a minor), please tap off! love, ali xoxo

wc: 1.3k words

Listen, it hadn't been your idea to take these edibles. But you and Bucky were enjoying a rare night in. No party, no obnoxious friends to bother you two. Your roommate had decided she would be spending the weekend at her boyfriend's place, so what better time than the present?

Your apartment is lit by the dim glow of a few lamps and smaller lights scattered, but the aura is calm and relaxed.

You've only gotten high a few times from your time in college, but year two is coming to a close and you've never been high with Bucky.

He does smoke occasionally, and you usually have to take care of his aloof messes during his little stints with Sam and Tony.

"Okay, so you're just gonna have a few of these candies, or I have a brownie. Up to you, sweetheart." Bucky lets you choose your edible of choice, and he eats whatever you didn't want.

You're sitting practically in his lap, and while your movie is playing, but it's becoming harder and harder for you to focus on the actual plot.

"Babe, I barely feel anything. Should I eat some more?" You begin, but as you lean forward out of his hold, your body catches up with your mind.

"Woah, nevermind. Don't need any more." You snuggle back into his arms and look up at him.

Bucky's looking back down at you with a dopey grin, no doubt from the weed coursing through his system right now. But you're also way too far gone to notice anything.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He all but mumbles. Bucky's mouth is practically on yours.

"Baby, I love you too. More than you know." You respond, and you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of your intoxication. All you can see is the slight red swirled with the blue of his eyes, and you can't even look away for a second.

"Out of all the girlfriends I've had, you're my favorite." He says, and you shake with laughter.

A snort escapes from you, which triggers a laugh from Bucky.

"Way to," you wheeze, "way to make a girl feel special, baby." You can't keep in your giggles, and when Bucky tries to stand up while still picking you up, you're convinced you're going to wet your pants.

"You're gonna drop me!" You drag out the last word, but Bucky's soon placing you down on the kitchen counter.

"'M hungry." You state, pouting like a child.

"I know, doll. 'S why I brought your cute ass in here. Without droppin' ya." Bucky emphasizes his last words, and you both let out a big laugh.

"I was kidding, babe." You fake pout, your lips jutted out. Bucky leans over your frame with hands on both sides of your thighs and gives you a quick peck. He reaches into the cabinet behind your head to open, instead hitting your head with it.

"Ow! Baby, what the hell?" You're now both doubled over in laughter, your hand holding onto your head.

"S-Sorry, sweetheart. Was tryin' ta get the chips, but-" Bucky's laugh cuts off the rest of his defense, and you can't help but keep giggling with him.

His head is rested on your shoulder, the both of you still laughing while he feeds you said chips.

After a few minutes, you look at him in silence.

"Water, please, baby?" You ask with the sweetest face you could muster at the moment, and Bucky's already filling you up a glass.

"Ah, thank you, baby. Love you so much." You repeat to him again. Bucky had remembered you telling him about how you were an affectionate person while high, and it was definitely showing right now.

"Love ya more, sweetheart. Couldn't love anyone as much as I love you." He replies.

"No one? Not even Steve?" You ask, letting a chortle out.

"Hey, that's not fair, he's like my brother." He pouts, and now it's your turn to kiss it away.

"I know, lovie." You smile. Your hand is stroking his face and his hair, relishing in his beautiful, soft hair.

"Your hair is so soft. How do you get it this soft?"

"Babe, you ask me this every time you touch my hair. You bought me my conditioner." Bucky rolls his eyes in fake annoyance, and leans in to kiss you again.

As his mouth is molding against yours, you feel nothing short of floating. The air around you doesn't exist, nothing does; except for your perfect boyfriend who's kissing you right now with everything he has in him.

"Mm, baby, bed?" He asks between kisses, and you just respond with a fervent nod.

He hoists you up once again, and you're laughing, again.

"Don't drop me." You echo your previous words in a singsong voice.

In a moment's notice, Bucky's already pushed you into two walls before dropping you on your bed.

"You have horrible high coordination." You're both laughing as he climbs on top of you and kisses down your neck.

"Hey, hey, I gotcha here in one piece, right?" He defends himself, and you laugh in response.

He's working on removing your shorts and sweatshirt, which is already a large task. Bucky's hands get tangled in your lacy underwear, which you found to be the most hilarious thing ever at the moment.

"Baby, it- it's not funnnyyyy." Bucky's giggling gets you laughing even harder, but eventually, you're both naked.

"Condom?" He asks, your neck being littered with bruises.

"Mm, nightstand." You point, and he fumbles for a bit and lets his body drop onto yours.

"B- Bucky," you all but yell and howl.

"One sec!" He's up and rolling the condom onto his hard length, which he's also having trouble with.

"Don't laugh at me!" His indignation is clear when you put the back of your hand over you mouth to suppress the laugh.

"Just, get over here."

Bucky's frame is on top of you again, but now you're way too excited to think any further.

"You want it, baby? Yeah? Use your words for me." He tells you, and you feel a rush of wetness between your thighs.

"P-Please, baby, want you inside of me." You tell him, and all you can hear is a groan from him. He gently slides inside of you, and you feel like your mind is about to explode.

"Oh, oh my God!" You let out a moan at the feeling of the slow, deep stroked that Bucky's taking.

"Thas' my girl, makin' me feel so damn good," Bucky's deep, raspy voice is in your ear, and it's about to drive you over the edge.

"Please, faster baby." You plead, and Bucky's moan tells you just how good he's also feeling.

Your stomach feels like it's been filled up, Bucky's thickness making you clench around him just to feel him properly.

But when you feel Bucky's hand reach down between you two, and his ministration of "C'mon, sweetheart, come for me. Let me feel your tight pussy come around my cock."

With his words, you reach possibly the best orgasm of your entire life. You feel Bucky also coming, but you feel like you're laid on a cloud. Like you're floating. All you can see is white, and your brain has gone absolutely fuzzy at the feeling that Bucky's stirred up inside you.

After a few minutes, you come back down onto Earth when you feel Bucky pull out. He ties up the condom and tosses it into the bin, and he's holding you on top of his chest.

"You okay, baby?" He's petting your hair and sees your eyes are still not focused.

"Mhm." Is all you can manage, and Bucky's pulling on some boxers while he slips on one of his shirts over your frame.

"G'night, my love." He pecks your forehead, turning off the lamp and pulling your blanket over the both of you.

When you drift into the best sleep of your life, all you can think is, 'we are so doing that again.'

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #college!bucky #college!au #boyfriend!bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #boyfriend bucky #i wanna get high with him so bad #bucky one shot #frat!bucky x reader #frat!bucky #frat!au #high!bucky

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

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I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 3:

“Okay, so that’s about it.” You smile brightly, pressing a band-aid into the boy’s skin. “Thanks for being so brave for me!”

“Mhm. I’m the bravest!”

The child before you beams, all teeth gaps and kicking legs as he bounces in his seat. You’d just given him a few routine vaccinations, and true to your praise, he had been very brave about it. All he’d done was sit there, holding his breath until his face went red, and trying not to grimace. It reminded you of someone else you’d recently treated- someone else who was currently blazoned in all his snarling glory on the little boy’s shirt.

“Oh, I’m sure! Just like Dynamite!” You agree enthusiastically, gesturing to his clothes. You turn your head, catching his mother’s eye from where she sits next to him. “Isn’t that right, mom?”

“Oh, not if I can help it.” She smiles something a little exhausted, but ultimately fond as her son starts making explosion noises. “Not if I can help it.”

If you’re being completely honest, you sort of agree with her. Just a little bit- actually, on second thought a lot.

“If that’s everything and you have no other concerns for me, then we’re about done here.” You say gently. “Do you know where you’re going? I can point you toward reception again if you need it.”

“No, we’re alright, thank you!”

You nod, holding the door open for them as they leave.

When the door closes, and you’re swept back up into silence, you can’t help but think of that interaction as just more proof- more proof that no matter where you were, no matter what you were doing, you absolutely could not escape Bakugou.

When you weren’t actively thinking about him, then you were seeing his face everywhere. He was on television, and he was on the cover of newspapers, and as evidenced, he was printed in perfect grumbling, snarling accuracy on children’s t-shirts. It didn’t help either that every day brought another civilian who was saved by him, and every night brought another small-time criminal who was beat to hell by his fists. You swore he was responsible for a solid 70% of all of your hospital’s traffic- it was pure insanity when you really started paying attention.

You quickly come to realize that Bakugou is a plague; and a horrifyingly effective one at that. You’re not sure how you never noticed it before.

Still, you can’t help but find yourself worrying a little bit. When you think of him, all you can see is his face covered in blood, the pallid hue of his skin under the hospital’s sterile lighting, and the deep-set bags under his eyes. You remember the way he practically fell asleep, laid out and injured on a hospital table. The way he was drifting while you were digging a needle and thread through his skin.

Thinking back on it always makes you a bit sick. No one who wasn’t absolutely exhausted would ever fall asleep in a hospital- especially not in the middle of being sewn up. When you match that to the anger and terror you’d felt, that very first night you’d ever met him, it doesn’t paint a pretty picture. You come to realize that even if Bakugou was an asshole to you, you still wouldn’t wish that kind of mental torture on anybody.

Your rest of your week goes by quickly after that, and by the time Saturday rolls around, you’ve gathered quite a few bones to pick with him. It seemed the amount of criminals you were patching up was only increasing, and their injuries were only getting worse too. Each passing day only brings more lowly criminals and thieves flooding into your hospital, all covered in the same scorch marks, broken bones, and dark bruising. It was overkill, plain and simple, and you knew exactly who the culprit was.

You began to think that, even if it was Bakugou’s job, he really shouldn’t have been digging graves for people who were just stealing purses. There was a massive difference between a super villain and a petty thief, but he didn’t seem to understand that. Dynamite punished everybody just the same. You saw that first hand.

Still, you try to shake off those lingering frustrations. You were on your way to take out his stitches, and you didn’t want to accidently bring them up. Bakugou only mildly tolerated you the last time around, but you were sure that generosity would cease the moment you criticized anything about him. True to his quirk, Bakugou had proven himself to be a teetering powder keg- just a little bit of friction, and he’d explode on the spot.

“On your way to help his majesty?” Your superior remarks, smiling sardonically as you pass her. “Good luck, I’ll be praying for you! Try your best to come back with your head still intact, yeah?”

You nod, smiling uneasily, but your stomach turns a little bit.

That had been another reoccurring theme that week- jokes about how your impending doom was imminent. Apparently, Bakugou had been making a name for himself for years now- a name that was a lot less loved by your hospital then it was the rest of the outside world. You’d been hearing horror stories for days now; tale after twisted tale of nurses and doctors getting chewed up and spit out by his bad temper. It always read as a little strange to you though; in every story you’d heard, he was either hardly injured or on his death bed- no in-between whatsoever. You figure that it didn’t really matter though, the result was always the same. Relentless, explosive anger.

Which you sort of begun to think you were in for, when you opened the door to his scowling face.

“Hey!” You greet unsurely, trying to walk into the room with a confidence you didn’t really feel. Moving past him, you rinse your hands, drying them and then slipping on a pair of latex gloves. You then pull the medical cart over to him, taking out the blood pressure cuff. Just like his last visit. “You ready to get those stitches removed?”

“Yeah. Obviously. Why the fuck else would I waste my time here? Witch.”

Yep. There it is- just what the other nurses and staff were warning you about. His attitude.

“Oh. Okay, so I see we are still using that nickname. Great.” You mutter wrapping the cuff around his arm. You fall back, crossing your arms as you wait to jot down his vitals. There’s angry tension rolling off of him, and you smile uneasily, trying to discharge it with a subject change. “On an entirely different note, though, I did want to congratulate you.”

Bakugou just scoffs, turning up his nose. A beat passes and then he folds, minutely nodding at you to continue.

“You’re not covered in any blood this time! Congrats!” You say breezily, unwrapping the cuff from around his arm. “Guess the third time really is the charm for us, huh?”

Bakugou just looks away, hardly even acknowledging you as he rolls his eyes. You think you see his lip twitch though- just a bit, and it only lasts half a second, but you count it as a success.

“So, any worries about the stitches? You been cleaning them as instructed?” You ask, gently taking his forearm in your hands. You remove the bandages and gauze with feather-light touches. “Wow, you must’ve been. They look pretty good to me.”

When you look up at him, he’s got that same prideful smirk you’d seen before; it doesn’t distract you from his condition though. His skin somehow looks paler than before, skin purple and darkened under his eyes. You see the cut on his head, still hardly healed and scabbed over. He’s overworking himself, but you didn’t need to have any medical background to see that.

“Obviously they look good. You think I’m fuckin’ stupid?” He says.

“No, but I really did think you would’ve exacerbated them by now. Especially with all the hero work you’ve been doing. Which, believe me, I know is a lot.”

“What- you stalking me now or somethin’?”

“Not exactly. Me or somebody else here always end up treating all those people you save.” You tell him, setting his arm down on the empty surface of the medical cart. You try to keep your voice light, keep it entirely void of anything accusatory, but you can’t help your next words. “And every person you beat into the ground.”

Bakugou’s eye twitches when you look at him. He breathes deep, eyebrows creasing.

“Oi- somethin’ you wanna fuckin’ say to me?” He utters, eyes glinting like blistering wildfire. He leans forward, flipping his palm up towards you as it begins to crackle. “Better choose your next words real fuckin’ carefully.”

It’s his tone that catches you off-guard.

You knew it was a stupid move, your comment, but the pure poison in his response surprises you anyway. His voice is dark and angry, smoldering like a low heat as he stares you down. The words are vicious thing, a gripping threat that drips from his mouth, seeming to bite back around his teeth as he speaks it. It makes you shrink. You think that it would probably make even the strongest people shrink.

“No. It’s- I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” You apologize professionally, pasting on your best appeasing smile even as you fight off the anxiety. There’s nothing left to do but try to defuse the situation- so you turn away from him, busying yourself with grabbing a discard tray and your stitching kit. “It’s really wasn’t my business. Shouldn’t have said anything. Sorry.”

Bakugou just huffs at that, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. He somehow looks even more annoyed than before and you don’t know what he wants from you. Doesn’t he know how intimidating he is? Why does he even bother acting surprised when people fold for him? Especially if he chooses to address them like that?

You wish you were the sort of person who could stand up to him- the sort of person who could put him in his place. After all, there was no room for arrogance in a hospital, and you’d always thought egotism to be a selfish waste of valuable time. But, even so, you just couldn’t be that person this time. There was a lot you could power though, but you’d never seen hot-and-cold anger like his before. He wasn’t like any of your other difficult patients- none of their threats ever sounded like promises.

There’s tense silence as you start removing the stitches, only the sound of your scissors and Bakugou’s own breaths. You try to keep your hands steady, try to keep focused, but you’re finding it hard to keep still under his intense gaze. You feel he’s looking right through you again, waiting for any excuse to blow up again.

You’re almost done removing them entirely when he huffs, rolling his eyes as he shifts uncomfortably.

“You’re so fucking sensitive, you know. It’s pathetic.”

You stiffen.

There’s a lot you’re willing to put up with- being underappreciated and overworked was pretty much your entire job after all- but Bakugou was really wearing on you. He wasn’t the first patient to insult you, and his comment was far from the worst thing you’d ever been told; but it’s something in the way he spits the insult. Sly and challenging like he knows something you don’t. It makes you look up at him, and all you see are his sharp canines. His smirk and the way he looks down on you.

He’s picking a fight, but there’s no threat. He’s testing you.

It makes your blood boil.

“If you don’t like me, and the way I do my work,” You bite out, staring right back and speaking through own clenched teeth. “Then you shouldn’t have asked for me. No one made you come back.”

“I told you, witch. No cutting corners. You put the fuckers in my arm, you take them the fuck out.”

“Why are you fighting with me?” You ask, swallowing as you try not to shy away from his glare. “I told you last time, if this works better for you silent, then just say that.”

He flares his nostrils at that, setting his jaw. When he goes silent, you go back to snipping away his stitches. At this point, you just wanted to finish as quickly as possible.

“Silent is fuckin’ boring.” He grits, flexing his fingers. It makes the skin on his forearm shift, throwing off your work. When you look at him in frustration, you can see he did it on purpose. “It’s wimp shit.”

“Pardon?”

“I said-” He leans in close, voice low and venomous. It feels like he’s trying to paralyze you with his stare alone, sitting up straight until he’s glaring down at you. “Silence is boring. You’re fucking boring.”

You’d had a long day- you’d had a very long day and he was being extremely rude and your patience was wearing thin hours ago. That’s why you let him break your careful composure- at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“Oh yeah, I’m boring?” You ask in frustration, entire face warming in fury. “I’m boring? Really! At least I don’t spend my entire day blowing things up and beating people half to death!”

Bakugou blinks. He blinks, sucks a breath, and then you watch his smirk crawl slow and sure across the entirety of his face. He got you. He got you to break, and he won, and he knows it.

He knows it and he settles back on his good hand, leaning away to get a better look at your flustered face. He cocks his head to the side, studying and analytical for a moment. He nods.

“There. We’re fuckin’ even.”

“Excuse me?”

“Even. You shouldn’t have fuckin’ pried around in my head and not expected me to pry in yours.”

“That’s what this is about?” You sigh incredulously, putting your scissors down on the medical cart. “Really? You’re still on that- how- how does this even tell you what’s in my head? You’re just insulting me. It doesn’t!”

“It does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then why are you so fuckin’ pissed right now? Hah?” He squints his eyes, voice smooth and dripping with arrogance. “It’s cause I’m right. You’re so fuckin’ boring when you play nice all the time.”

“Play nice? What the hell are you even on about? You don’t know me.”

“I know that you piss me the hell off bein’ fake. If I fuckin’ irritate you then say so. Don’t put on your fuckin’ kid gloves and try and be professional. It’s weak.”

“No. It’s how I keep my job. Which you know, you wouldn’t understand, because you literally pick fights for a living!” You huff, pushing the medical cart off to the side and stepping back from him. “Actually- you know what, no. I’m done with this. This conversation. Your stitches are out, and you can leave since you obviously can’t stand me and would rather be anywhere but here.”

You watch him flare his nostrils again, a snarl ripping from his mouth. He slams his closed fist down on the hospital bed, eyes like blazing conflagration. Bakugou looks pissed, but more than anything he looks vulnerable. Worn raw.

“I can’t.” He grits.

“Yes! You actually can! Just walk out! Literally just walk out an-’

“God, you’re so fucking dense! I can’t leave without figuring out how the fuck you do it!”

“Do what?” You nearly scream, your owns hands beginning to clench into fists.

“I need to know.” He repeats again, hopping off the hospital bed.

His feet hit the ground, steps like rolling thunder as he nears, broad shoulders and muscular arms casting an intimidating shadow. Bakugou looks like an angry bull storming toward you. Like he’ll obliterate you given even half the chance.

“Take your fucking gloves off.”

You’re scared now, eyes darting over to the door. You knew nobody was doing rounds in the luxury wing right now, and sound didn’t pass through walls that were made to ensure silence. Heart racing in your chest, you size him up, try to think of a way to escape but he’s so close to you and he’s built like a linebacker and-

“Jesus christ. Not like that. Fuckin’ idiot.” He growls, hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He stops a few feet in front of you, sneering. “You’re not my fuckin’ type, so don’t flatter yourself. Now, grow the fuck up and take them off before I do it for you.”

You’re not sure what makes you listen, maybe it’s fear, maybe it’s something else, but either way you listen. You pull a glove off, just barely dropping it on the counter before Bakugou speaks again.

“I’m gonna touch your hand- but do not use your quirk. Don’t even think about using it. Just fucking stand there. And don’t freak the fuck out and put up a fight about it. You’re just gonna waste time.”

You nod, hand shaking as you extend it. Bakugou seems to roll his eyes at that, but he surges forward anyways, fingers meeting yours.

You feel it almost immediately. Your heart speeds up, but just slightly, beginning beat against your chest where it had just barely been grazing it before. You breathe deep, close you eyes, focus in on the buzzing of your skin- the way your bones sing of subtle fire. It’s barely there but it feels like warmth. Reminds you of that night, with Bakugou, when you were burning alive. Reminds you of how your bones felt too large and your skin felt too small and there somehow wasn’t enough room in the entire world to hold the weight of your rage.

“You ambient fucking bitch.” Bakugou swears under his breath. When you look at him, he’s fluttering his own eyes open, dropping your hand like it burned him.

Then he steps back and you’re gasping for air. It’s not entirely back again- but it’s reminiscent. There’s an inkling of that bone-deep exhaustion. That weariness that so often stole the air from you lungs and the ground beneath your feet.

“Your quirk. It’s ambient. Through your skin.”

You shrink back even more, blinking owlishly up at him.

“What? You didn’t fucking know? Jesus, how clueless are you?”

“It’s-I-” You drop your head, running a hand through your hair. “I never- I always wear gloves. Always. And long sleeves. Since I was little. Never wanted to take the chance- how did you even know.”

Bakugou seems to turn his nose up at your question. He steps back, further and farther until his back hits the hospital bed. There’s distance but somehow he keeps the air just as charged, averting his eyes when he speaks next.

“Went to sleep. A week ago. When I saw you-”

“What? Bakugou that doesn’t- you’re not-”

“If you’d let me fuckin’ finish,” He glares down at you again, trying to beat you into submission with eye-contact alone. It works and you fall silent, holding your breath as he resumes. “You put me to sleep. Then and three months ago. I haven’t slept peacefully like that in fuckin’ years. So obviously you used your quirk on me. It’s easy. A fuckin’ moron could’ve figured it out.”

“No- but I didn’t touch you! Well, the first time, yeah, I did, but not a week ago. I was wearing gloves and I-”

“When I told you to do the splint over, the sleeve of your coat rode up.” He grits out, cheeks slightly flushing as he averts his eyes. “Then I almost fell asleep. Not like the first time, but still. Asleep. So obviously it’s your fuckin’ skin.”

Suddenly, the ground is ripped out from under you.

Your entire life you’d always been tired. Day in and day out, constantly dragging your feet like you could never get enough sleep. Like there wasn’t enough hours in the day for you to live and be rested.

Was it your quirk this entire time? Were you somehow ambiently draining people of their pain- even if you just accidentally brushed their skin with yours?

You don’t know how you never realized it. How you never put two and two together.

You’d spent your entire life purposefully using your quirk to help people- had then sacrificed days and weeks of your life afterwards tucked away in bed and sleeping off the exhaustion. When you used your power on purpose, depending on the severity of someone’s pain, it would debilitate you. But you still did it- over and over and over again because you wanted to help people. Because you knew you could and that became the only reason you needed.

You’d always just assumed your constant exhaustion to be aftershocks of how often you used your quirk- you never even considered the possibility that it was something you were doing unintentionally. That you were draining yourself with every hug and handshake and high-five that should’ve made you feel better.

You’d always sort of disliked being touched. Somehow always walked away with your skin prickling uncomfortably for as long as you could remember. You just never knew why until now.

“Oi- I thought I told you not to freak the fuck out.”

“It’s- how the hell am I not supposed to freak out about this?” You gasp, hands braced behind you on the counter. “I didn’t know! My entire life! And you met me like, what, twice and you figured it out and- Are you falling asleep right now?”

In your spiral Bakugou had somehow ended back up on the hospital bed. He was still sat up, but his shoulders were completely slumped over and his eyes were half-lidded. He looked completely drained of all previous anger, swaying slightly as he blinked himself back to perfect alertness.

“Yeah. Probably.” He grumbles. “It’s your fuckin’ fault.”

“You barely touched me! How the hell is-”

“Don’t ask me, you fuckin’ leech.” He yawns, hand closed into a fist as he rubs at his eyes. “You’re the one with the stupid goddamn quirk. Not me.”

“That’s- sorry. I didn’t know. Holy shit,” You curl arms around your stomach, eyes widening. “Have I been doing this shit to everyone? My entire life?”

Bakugou groans. Audibly. Loudly.

“You’re the stupidest goddamn idiot on the face of the planet. Swear to fuck, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

“You’re not helping!” You exclaim. “It was rhetorical question! Excuse me for freaking out right now- I’m sure you’d freak out too if you suddenly found out you were osmosis-ing people’s emotions your entire life!”

“Heh.”

“God, and just what the hell are you laughing about? This isn’t funny!”

“Osmosis.” He reiterates, mouth drawn up into a shit-eating grin. “Change your quirk name. To osmosis. Alleviate is shitty and stupid and it makes you sound fucking dumb.”

You bristle again, suddenly shaking any and all tiredness, rounding on him as you seethe.

“You- you are a goddamn asshole! You know that?” You start, stopping just a few feet in front of him. “You come in here, and insult me. Call me boring! In my own fuckin’ workplace! While I’m literally taking your stitches out! And then you tell me how my quirk works- somehow have the audacity to be fucking right about it, and now you’re insulting me? Again?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re just sitting there, completely fine, smiling like there’s something funny! This isn’t funny! I’m not funny! This is my life- which you literally have been bulldozing through for months now- are you falling asleep? Again? No! No! Not in my- wake the fuck up! Asshole!”

You’re snapping in his face, just inches away from his eyes, and Bakugou hardly even blinks. He just sits still, calm and sated as you seethe just inches away from him. You huff in absolute hatred and that finally shocks some life into him. He smiles. Tiny and barely-there, but he smiles.

“See, not so nice anymore. Knew you weren’t. Fuckin’ liar.”

You want to scream. You want to tear your hair out and maybe take Bakugou’s too, and scratch and claw until you’re bathing in all the rage you’d accidentally stolen from him. You can’t though- you can’t because suddenly the sun starts to set. It falls behind the horizon line, seeping the gold from his skin and drowning him in sterile, white, artificial pallid-ness. His skin goes translucent and the only color in the entirety of his image are the bags under his eyes. Well, the bags under his eyes and the stark red of the barely-healed slice on his forehead.

You curse your own heart. Nearly collapse under the weight of your own sympathy. Bakugou was an asshole, an absolute, irredeemable dick, and you still wanted to heal him. Help him. Somehow. Miraculously.

So then you’re centering yourself, rubbing a hand down your face to soothe your wound-up features.

“God, you actually do look pretty bad.” You say, all attempts at grace and keeping it professional completely gone. “You really weren’t kidding about needing to sleep, huh?”

“No shit. Leech.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure. That’s fine. Trade one mean nickname for another- I mean, hey, at least this one’s accurate right?”

Bakugou does actually exhale a laugh at that remark, limbs a flurry of chaotic movement when he throws himself back on the bed. His head hits the pillow and it’s only seconds before he’s shutting his eyes.

“So, what, you’re just, like, sleeping now?” You ask, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“This is a hospital, Bakugou.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” He mumbles, yawning into his hand. “‘m fuckin’ Dynamite. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

“I’m sorry- do you, do you actually think you can ego your way out of rules? Seriously? You can’t sleep here! Not unless you’re critically injured and need like, round-the-clock care.”

He stills, breath evening and you think he’s fallen asleep. Then he’s lazily bringing a hand up, pointing it loosely at his head.

“I’m critically fuckin’ injured.”

“No- you’re not. That’s a cut and it’s already healing and-”

“I need round-the-clock care.”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?”

“No.” He grunts, flopping as he turns away from you. Then he’s facing the wall, nuzzling into the pillow. “I’m tired.”

“It’s-” You start, but then you’re once again falling victim to your own empathy. One look at his translucent skin is all it takes. “Fine. You know what? I don’t give a shit. Do what you want, I guess. Nobody else is using these rooms.”

“Okay. Leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“Get the fuck out.” He slurs, cheek pressed up against the pillow as his eyes flutter beneath his eyelids. “Bein’ too loud. Leave.”

“Fine. Enjoy your sleep. Jerk.”

“Leech.”

You nearly punch him in frustration- until you realize that would probably only relax him more; because apparently this really is Bakugou’s world and you were the unlucky one just living in it.

He’s out before you’re even finished packing up. You’re wiping down all the surfaces either of you had touched, just about to leave, when he starts snoring. It’s a soft, almost kitten-like sound, just barely audible over your own breathing. It pisses you off. Boils your blood in your veins because it’s so goddamn humanizing even when he acts like the anti-christ with an even worse temper. It’s stupidly endearing and ridiculously sobering and incredibly, incredibly irritating.

That stupid sound is why you double back upon leaving the room. Why you’re suddenly choosing to reverse instead of moving forward, why you’re suddenly reaching into the cupboard instead of shutting the door behind you.

When you carefully unfold the blanket, settling it gently over his sleeping form, there’s only one thing on your mind.

Fuck being an empath.

--/--

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness

#bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x self insert #bnha bakugo #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou series #bakugou fic #mha fic #bnha fic

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colormeyondublue · 4 years ago

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First fic ever! Honest feedback time!

This is my first ever fan fiction and I want your complete honesty. If you love it, great! If you hate it, that’s totally fine! If you have any tips or suggestions for a first time writer let me know!

Secrets: Yondu x Reader

A/u where Yondu survived Ego, and the guardians are still aboard the quadrant....

For a couple months now, Mantis could tell something was wrong with her best friend. You were always so cheery and up-beat. You would never tell her what was bothering you, no matter how much she asked. This was completely unlike you because you always told Mantis everything. She wanted to know what was making you feel and act so weary and tired. You seemed so stressed and the others started to notice too. Anytime someone would ask what was bothering you, you would just shrug it off and make something up. But the excuses were getting old.

“Come on y/n, I bet you would feel so much better if you just got it off your chest.” Peter poked you in the side as he bugged you about it for what felt like the millionth time. “Plus, I’m just super curious now. You’ve been sulking for weeks.”

“Just leave me alone Peter!” You snapped. You winced at your words and then took a deep breath. He was just trying to help. It’s not his fault you felt this way. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just dealing with something personal right now, and I would prefer to do it on my own.”

You heard those signature clunking boots come through the doorway behind you, “Do what on yer own?” Yondu asked with his hands on his hips and a quizzical look on his face.

Yondu and Kraglin were still hanging out on the Quadrant with the Guardians since the events with Ego. They were in the process of getting a new ship and a new crew after Yondu blew their old crew to all hell.

“Nothing. It’s absolutely nothing, Yondu.” You were irritated. Yondu was the one person you didn’t want to push away, but you felt like you had no other choice. You tried to push past him and leave the room, but his large hand caught your shoulder.

He looked you dead in the face, and you turned your eyes from him. You couldn’t keep your knees in check if you caught those crimson eyes for too long. His voice was low, “Hey, we don’t do solo missions and we don’t work alone. Ya got something ya have to do, ya take someone with ya. Ya already know that.”

“This isn’t about some mission.” You kept your stare at the floor between your feet as you continued. “I’m not going anywhere, just - leave me alone.” You pulled your shoulder away and quickly returned to your bunk.

You walked into the cabin that you and Mantis shared, throwing yourself onto the bottom bunk in a huff. You let out a long sigh with your face in the pillow. You were too emotional to think straight. You’ve never felt so many conflicting emotions at once and it was driving you insane! If you didn’t vent soon, you’d explode. Nervousness, happiness, guilt...the list goes on. Nervous, because Yondu gives you butterflies to which the likes couldn’t be described. Happy, because you get to spend every single day around him...but on the other hand you feel guilty because you don’t want to put anyone in a weird position. He’s Basically Peter and Kraglin’s dad! His age didn’t bother you one bit, but you certainly didn’t want to ruin any family dynamics going on around the ship. You could accept the truth in your head, but saying it out loud was a whole other matter. The truth was, you had fallen in love. Stupid, annoying, nerve wracking, inconvenient, love. Everything about this situation was so messed up.

Part of you wanted to just give in and fall straight into the arms of the man you’d fallen for. The other half of you was screaming at you to keep your mouth shut. So far, the screaming side of you has been winning. You honestly didn’t think he would return your feelings, and you genuinely thought he was way out of your league. He was brave, strong, smart, cunning, and downright gorgeous. You were short, clumsy, a little curvy, and the weakest of the team. The only thing you had going for you (and the only reason you were able to join the team) was your incredible shooting abilities. Back on Terra, you were super talented with firearms. The transition from guns to blasters wasn’t too bad. You knew Terran guns inside and out. You were definitely a good shot, and you weren’t afraid of anything - except maybe your feelings for the Centaurian on board. Over your time with the guardians you got really good with intergalactic weapons, with some help from Rocket of course.

“Y/n..........Y/N!”

You jumped out of your thoughts, sat up in your bunk and looked frantically at Mantis who was eagerly trying to get your attention. “Are you okay?” She asked with a curious, yet concerned, expression on her face.

“Ugh, yes, Mantis. I’m fine. For the thousandth time, I’m just fine.”

“I don’t believe you. Something is wrong, and you leave me no choice. You mean a great deal to me, and I need to help. I am very sorry, but I feel I have to do this.”

Before you could get another word in, Mantis had her hands gripped around your wrist. Just as you began to pull away, her antennae glowed their bright yellow light and her eyes burst open to look at you.

“Mantis, please, you are my best friend in this entire galaxy. Probably in the entire universe - you cannot tell anyone!”

She stared at you, wide eyed. She couldn’t believe what she felt. So many emotions at once. It was such a surprise! Regardless, she was very excited for you.

“Y/n, this is so exciting! It is happy news. But, also confusing. You feel so many things. Why must this be a secret?”

“Because!” You shouted, a little louder than you intended. “Mantis, this isn’t what you think. If this gets around it could jeopardize the entire team. He may not feel the same way I do, and that would be a humiliating disaster. Look, if it helps, all you have to do is wait until Yondu and Kraglin are able to leave with their own ship and crew, and then once that happens you can shout it to the stars. Deal?”

A low, raspy voice travels through the doorway interrupting your conversation, “so, what happens when Kraglin and I get our own ship and leave?”

You and mantis snap your heads toward the door with nervous expressions. Yondu’s presence and voice sends a chill down your spine. Butterflies are bursting into a frenzy in your stomach. You both just stare at him, completely unsure of what to say.

“Well?!” He boomed. “Why ‘ave ya been acting so fidgety ‘round me lately? And wha’s sis ‘bout waiting fer me and Kraglin ta leave?”

Mantis looked at you, then back at Yondu, and back at you again. “Y/n, you know I care for you very much, and you are my best friend, but I think this is something you two need to talk about.” With that, she ducked past Yondu and fled the room.

You stood up and yelled at her as she ran, “THANKS BESTIE! I’LL GET RIGHT ON THAT!”

You turned to look at Yondu, who was still sporting that classic scowl he wears all the time.

“What?” You snapped. You seriously hated being so crass with him, but building walls was your specialty, and it was the only way to protect this weird little family you’d grown to love. If Yondu ever found out how you felt, it could all come crashing down. Not only could you lose him, but everyone else too.

He eyed you suspiciously, “Ya know, I only known you for a coupl’a months, and you don’t seem right. Mind tellin’ me what that’s ‘bout?”

“No.” You said flatly. “I have nothing to tell.” Heat was rising to your cheeks as you lied right through your teeth.

“Ya lyin’. You’s a bad liar ya know it?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Fine, if ya won’t tell me, I guess I’ll go pry the information I need outta poor little ol’ Mantis.”

“Leave her out of this! She doesn’t know anything.”

“Ah, so there is somethin’? I knew you was lyin’.”

You began to get defensive. “Yondu! UGH just stay out of it! I don’t need to tell you anything! I don’t want to tell you anything.”

Yondu turned his back on you as if he were going to leave. You felt a quick moment of relief until you heard the door slam shut and the bolt click into the door frame. Shit.

He turned to face you again, he took one large stride toward you, and now he was just inches from you. Those butterflies from earlier were trying to come up your throat, but it was getting so tight you could barely breathe. Your mouth was dry, and you swallowed hard to push them back down.

“Now, ya gonna tell me what I wanna know. Why’sit so important that Kraglin and I leave? You plannin’ somethin’?” His voice was intimidating and came out as a rumble. His words made you realize that, even after all this time with the Guardians, he still didn’t trust you completely.

You put on your best poker face and said, “No, I’m not planning something. Stop being paranoid. I would never hurt anyone on this team. Especially not you!” You froze at your last words. Damn it...maybe he won’t think too much into it.

His eyes blazed into yours for what felt like an eternity. You broke eye contact by rolling your eyes and scoffed, “Ugh - I don’t need this.” You tried to push past him and unlock the door, but it was no use. He caught your arm and pulled you back to him. His touch lit your entire body on fire.

“Ohhh ho, no ya don’t. You ain’t gettin’ outta this. Spill. Now. There ain’t no secrets on this ship.”

“But you aren’t the Captain here, Peter is.” You protested.

He shrugged and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Okay, yer right. I’m not the Captain here. But I am the one you’ll hafta get pass’ to unlock the door.”

“You’re so infuriating! Why are you even on this?! Why is this so important to you?!” You could feel yourself getting more and more defensive.

“I don’t like secrets.” Yondu said matter of factly.

Of course he doesn’t, you thought to yourself. He just dealt with a pretty nasty mutiny a few months ago. With a deep breath you relaxed, “Look, all I’ll say is this: I am not planning anything, I am not going to hurt anyone, and you really don’t need to worry. I’m going through some personal stuff and, like I told Peter, I just want to deal with it on my own.”

He pondered your words for a moment. “Fine.”

“Fine?” You asked.

“Yep, fine.” He turned to unlock the door and walked out, leaving the door open behind him.

That was definitely weird. He let it go just like that. It wasn’t like him to just let stuff go. You decide to keep to yourself for the rest of the day, buried in your thoughts.

Yondu, however, was not done with this. He waited a while before making his move. After an hour or so he went to find Mantis. She was up front on the flight deck chatting with Drax.

“Mantis, come ‘ere. I need to ask you somethin’.”

She looked at the Centaurian hesitantly. She stood and walked to him, fiddling with her hands. “Did you and y/n talk about what’s been bothering her? It was such a surprise to me, but I am very happy! I hope she will be happy too. You are a very good man.” She said discreetly.

Yondu just stared at her, totally lost. Mantis picked up on his confusion rather quickly. She began to fidget and shift nervously.

She leaned in and whispered softly so Drax wouldn’t hear, “She did not tell you? Oh, no. Well, I cannot tell you anything. I am her best friend and she is mine and I will not tell!”

Yondu lowered his voice as well, “Look girl, I’m juss as worried about ‘er as you are. All I’m askin’ is for a way to help.”

Mantis thought his words over, and hesitated. “I don’t know...she seemed very intent that you never find out. If she didn’t tell you, I don’t know if I should.”

“Come on girl, ya wanna make sure she’s alright, right? I thought you’s was friends. Besides, I sorta have an idea of what’s goin’ on anyways. Juss tell me.”

Mantis’s big, innocent heart won her over and she decided it would be best to tell him if it meant helping you.

“Y/n has been experiencing very much stress and anxiety because she likes you. More than likes you, loves you. There is very much love and sexual desire. She is nervous, excited, and happy, and angry, and sad, and feels guilty too. I felt it all right before you walked in on us talking about her conflicting emotions. It was very confusing. I certainly would not like feeling that way. She is afraid that if you found out, you would reject her and she would have to leave. But...I don’t want her to leave.” Mantis slumped her shoulders at her last words.

Yondu didn’t know what to say. You liked him? Loved him even? But why all that other stuff too? He had to find out. No more games, no more secrets. “Thanks girl, ya been a big help.” Yondu patted her shoulder and walked from the flight deck back to the bunking area.

Yondu sighed and knocked softly on the door. “Mantis, I told you I’m not talking anymore! I’m fine!”

The door quietly opened. “It ain’t Mantis.” Yondu said gently. “Can I come in?”

You sit up on your bunk and look at him, “Sure, feel free to lock the door while you’re at it.” You said sarcastically.

He grinned over his shoulder at you, and locked the door. “You and I gotta talk.”

You begin to panic, it’s happening. He knows, Mantis squealed. “What did Mantis say? I told her not to say anything!”

“Don’t blame her, it ain’t her fault. I made her tell me.” Yondu said with a sly smirk. “So - now that it’s out there, let’s talk.”

The butterflies were back in an instant and about to burst out of your mouth, but what came out instead was just plain sad, “Let’s just get this over with. You’re gonna tell me you know how I feel about you, and then I’m gonna say ‘yeah it’s true, I do like you - like a lot’, and then you’re gonna say, ‘well, sorry, I don’t feel the same way’, and then I’ll take that rejection and shove it way down into the depths of my soul. After that, you turn around and walk out, and I start packing. Okay, great. Are we done?” You stood up and walked toward your trunk that contained your belongings to hide your humiliation and distract yourself.

Yondu looked at you with slight surprise on his face and chuckled. “Uhh no. That ain’t what I was gonna say at all. What I was gonna say was, ‘m flattered. Truly. Women ain’t exactly chasin’ after me these days. I’m just a washed up ravager. No crew, no ship, and I ain’t as young as I used ta be.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he continued. “A pretty young thing like yasself shouldn’t be pinin’ over someone like me. I ain’t worth it.”

You snapped your head his direction and almost yelled, “EXcUSe ME?! Not worth it?! Do you even hear yourself?”

The Centaurian stood there, dumbfounded as you continued.

“Do you have any idea who you are?!” Here it comes - word vomit. You couldn’t stop, it all came pouring out like dumping water out of a bucket. “You are Captain Yondu Udonta. The fiercest Captain of the 100 Ravager Clans! You’re known across the galaxy! You have more experience in open space navigation, survival, and armed combat than I could ever dream of having. You’re incredibly strong, and cunning, and more charming than any man I’ve ever met. AND you’re just plain handsome. Not to mention that arrow of yours! Don’t ever sell yourself short, because you are more than worth it....if anything, I’m not worth it!

Before you could continue your rant, Yondu quickly stepped toward you, whirled you around and pulled you away from your trunk to kiss you passionately. His lips were the perfect combination of rough, yet soft. He tasted strongly of whiskey, and his hands roamed over your body until one twisted its way into your hair and the other pulled you into him by your waist. The kiss was open mouthed, hot, needy, and absolutely perfect. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back desperately and you felt a little chuckle fall from his lips as he pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Ya have no idea how long I’ve been wantin’ ta do that.” He said.

“How long?”

“A few weeks after Peter introduced us. Ya started ta really prove yaself with this group a misfits, an’ the rest of ‘em really took to ya. Including me. I never imagined ya’d be fond of someone like me.”

You both stood in your bunk area holding one another closely. “Well, I have to be honest, I didn’t expect this to happen in a million years.” You admitted.

Yondu pushed you to arms length to get a better look at you. “Why’s that?” He asked.

“Well I mean....look at me? I’m just a dumb little Terran. I’m weak and I barely know anything about space. I’m so new to it all, and I don’t exactly fit in around here. You guys have such incredible abilities and talents. I’m just...me. Terran. What I wouldn’t give to be like...I don’t know, Gamora. She’s breathtakingly beautiful and a total badass! I’ve been contemplating going back to Earth anyway because I just feel like I’m holding you all back.”

Yondu looked over your body and face admiringly and said softly, “I am lookin’ atcha, and none ‘a that’s true. I’m glad your here, and I’m sure as hell glad we met.” He grinned down at you, showing off those gold capped teeth. He leaned in to kiss you once more, deeply.

He pulled away lightly to whisper on your lips, “I can show ya everythin ya ever wanted to see, and teach ya everythin ya ever wanted to learn about bein’ out here.

I ain’t lettin’ you get away.”

#yondu x reader #marvel #gotg #gotg fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fans #yondu udonta #yondu #reader #gotg vol 2 #sfw #short fiction #secrets

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years ago

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Ma Petite Chérie: Christmas Then (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 6k

Summary: It’s the happiest time of the year, but it couldn’t be more miserable for Harry and Y/N.

Author’s Note: Reupload because it wasn’t working in the tags! Here is the first of two Christmas bits for Harry, Y/N and Tallulah! I’ve told you all that I planned on writing about Harry and Y/N breaking up early on in their relationship, so I decided to add a little Christmas spirit into the mix in honor of the season. I promise, the next part isn’t this sad. I always feel like I’m not that great at writing angst, mostly because it hurts my heart too much, but I hope I did this story enough justice. Feedback is greatly appreciated, it helps to keep me going and to write things that you guys actually want to read. Any who, enjoy! The next part will be up by the end of the month. Take care and TPWK.

Harry had never thought that a night out with his colleagues would cost him his world. It was supposed to be a celebration of another successful year at his job, nothing more. It was supposed to be dinner, a few rounds of whiskey with his team, and an early night back to the two girls he loved the most who waited impatiently for his return. It wasn’t supposed to be a trip to the club, where the bass in the speakers replaced Harry’s own heartbeat and made his mind temporarily forget where his priorities lied. He thought that he’d only be there long enough to not seem like an uptight asshole that didn’t care to have any fun, but alas. Harry can be quite the pushover, and quickly slipped into that inedbriated state that often persuades you to do things you know you shouldn’t.

Harry had certainly thought wrong.

Y/N, on the other hand, was only supposed to be gone long enough to clear her head. Steam was practically billowing out of her at lightspeed the night this all happened. It would later be referred to as “The-Incident-That-We-Don’t-Speak-About-Because-It’s-Painful-Too-Even-Think-About” in the future, but right now, it consumed her. Every little detail of that night and the argument that followed haunted her like a reoccurring bad dream that she couldn’t shake. The way he smelled like cigarettes from keeping his coworkers company on the club’s smoking patio, the way his eyes were glassy from one (or two) ((or three)) too many shots of tequila, the way he yelled at her. She had assured him that all she needed was time to think, and then she’d be back to talk. At the time, she had told him that she quite frankly didn’t want to even be in the same postal code as him, so she left. All that was in the duffle bag she packed in four minutes flat was her toothbrush, face wash, and enough clothes to get her through the weekend while she cooled off at her friend’s apartment.

She didn’t plan on being gone for sixteen days.

A lot had occurred to her in her time away from Harry. One, was that this was the first time they had fought. Ever. She’d always wondered if her time with Harry would ever stop feeling like a fairytale that only existed in novels and storybooks. Everything about the two of them was picture-perfect from its conception, and had somehow only gotten sweeter as the years had passed. She firmly believed that they weren’t like everybody else, those that put on a charade around others, but were unbearably miserable in private. She had started to think that maybe it was supernatural, the way that they fit together so perfectly that she thought no one else on the planet could make her feel the way Harry does, perfectly complete and peaceful. But it was turning out to be as simple as the age-old saying, life is not always rainbows and butterflies.

Two, was this really what Y/N wanted? She didn’t give it a second thought when it came to Harry having a child, quickly stepping into the role of being someone important in Tallulah’s life. And Harry let her, too. As cautious as he is about who he involves his daughter with, it was almost scary the way he let her in and allowed her to love and care for her. Yes, scary. Scary, because children are permanent and they are hard work and they include making sacrifices that sometimes don’t seem fair. So, Y/N had been asking herself if this was where she saw herself staying, as she had too big of a heart to become such an important character in Tallulah’s life to decide somewhere down the line that she suddenly didn’t want to be tied down anymore. It wasn’t fair to the poor girl, just a measly four years old, to have to go through losing someone that had promised to love her forever. Twice.

Deep down, she knew that this, Harry’s modest yet still lavish home with a pastel yellow door and vegetable garden out back that was often littered with dolls and abandoned sun hats from the cutest little thing that Y/N had ever seen, was where she wanted to be. But this brought her to the third thing she had pondered whilst she rotted on her friend’s uncomfortable sofa at 2 a.m. as she’d waited for her melatonin supplements to enter her system and send her off into a subdued state.

Could she ever forgive him for what he said?

It was just one week before Christmas. Harry texted her at least once everyday, Y/N only replying to the ones when he’d asked her if she was ready to talk, to which she’d tell him that she wasn’t, and that she promised she’d tell him when she was. Part of her stayed away from him for so long because she feared that somehow, deep down, the right thing to do was to stay away forever, and that was certainly going to be the worst day of her life. It would be for the better, Y/N thinks, if that is the case, but she’s trying very hard not to think about that being the endgame for her and Harry. Hence the inner turmoil that’s consuming Y/N’s body whole.

Sarah had promised her that Harry wasn’t coming. They sided with her on this one, she’d said, thus rescinding his invitation to her and Mitch’s annual holiday party. It felt somewhat wrong to be going to see Harry’s friends without him, especially given the fact that they’d more or less been split up for the past two weeks. But as much as they were Harry’s friends, they were also hers too. Harry really knew how to pick the ones he held closest - they were good people. He knows how to chose them because Harry is also a good person and Y/N knows this, and that makes it all the more painful when she pulls into the car park designated for guests of the condominium where Mitch and Sarah lived.

They’d seemed a bit off when they welcomed her into the sizey flat with the small, wrapped gift she’d brought for their exchange, but Y/N dismisses their seemingly rehearsed greetings as pity. Although the last thing she wants is to talk about Harry, she finds their condolences and overall presence soothing. She hadn’t seen much aside from her friend that she’d been staying with and her overweight, powder white cat these days, so human interracton in any capacity was refreshing.

Until it wasn’t.

The longer she stood in the circle of the others that came to the party, mindlessly nodding along to whatever was being said but not actually paying any attention, the longer she was left to sit with her thoughts. She remembers the three other times she’d come to Mitch and Sarah’s for this exact party, and how warm and loved she felt. Right now, all she feels is the cold radiating off of the sliding glass door that she’s leaning on and loneliness. To Y/N, it almost felt like everyone in the room knew what had happened to her and Harry. Like they were trying too hard to be cordial with her because they saw her as the girl that Harry yelled terrible things at and did terrible things too. It was overbearing and she had to get out before she exploded.

Finding aid in the very sliding glass door that chilled her to the bone, she wandered out on the patio to get away from the noise that was so loud yet so quiet at the same time. Tiny snowflakes coated the railing and the outdoor furniture, enough to illuminate her surroundings in an almost purple glow despite the time of night. If Tallulah were here, she’d convince Y/N to catch them on her tongue with her. Any other time, a thought like that would have made her smile, but right now it just made her sad. She wasn’t wearing a coat, yet she couldn’t find herself to care in this moment.

She wanted Harry. She wanted Harry there with her, whispering in her ear that Josie is full of herself and will say anything to get people’s attention and that he thinks they should ditch the party early so they can “warm each other up” at home. Despite the ache in her bones that wished for him, she couldn’t stop thinking about the last time she saw him.

“You’re lying.”

“Wha’ are you talkin’ about, Y/N?” he was swaying back and forth where he stood, clearly too drunk to keep his balance.

He almost sounded annoyed, but it was moreso because she’d interrupted his treck to the bedroom where his warm bed was waiting for him to ail his drunkenness and less because of her prodding.

“Clara was there, Harry. At the club. The one you forgot to tell me you were going to? She saw you. Talking to her. Any of that ring a bell?”

She made sure not to raise her voice in fear of waking up the toddler that had fallen asleep on the sofa waiting for her dad to come home so she could show him the ornaments she’d made with Y/N while he was gone, but he hadn’t come home when he’d promised her. Y/N wasn’t trying to fight, just get some answers. Yet here Harry stood, in their bathroom, lying to her face.

“Okay. So she was there ‘n we talked. We work for the same people. You’re not tellin’ me your mad that I talked t’ her about work, are yeh? Talked t’ her about work at a work party?”

“I’m not stupid, Harry. Stop doing that.”

Harry huffed in annoyance, as if her mere presence was beginning to cause his disdain.

“Then stop actin’ like it was somethin’ that it wasn’t. Swear t’ you. She came up to me, asked how Lulah had been, we talked about work for a second, and that was it. Fuck, even told her about you for christ’s sake.”

“I couldn’t care less that you talked to her, Harry. It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me you’d be out later than you said, went to a club, talked to her, the girl that broke your fucking heart, and I found out from a friend. And when I asked you about it, you lied. Do you see how fucking bad that looks?”

“Why don’t yeh ask Clara what she saw, hmm? Since you’re so keen on taking her word for it. She’s gonna tell you that nothing. Happened. I’m truly sorry I didn’t tell yeh I’d be out late. Didn’t think I’d be gone that long and just got carried away.”

Y/N was fighting tears now. He was talking in circles, unwilling to see her side and acknowledge that he’d done wrong.

“That’s what you’ve been saying for the past month, Harry. You’re always getting carried away with work and leaving me to take care of her. I can’t tell you how many times Tallulah’s asked why you’re always missing dinner and why you don’t go take her to her ice skating lessons or help her wash her hair anymore. She misses you. So do I. And then you go and do this. I know you’re busy this time of year but I also know you’re doing more than you’re being asked of, so don’t pull that shit with me. Would it kill you to come home every now and then and at least eat some pasta with your fucking daughter?”

Harry’s brows were furrowed together, eyes dark and half-shut in what was the beginning of a drunken rage. For a split second, Y/N saw a flicker of sadness within the deep green of his irises, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“Yeh say that like she’s a burden. ‘S that it? You’re mad that you have t’ babysit?”

“Harry,” Y/N warned him.

He was treading territory that would be hard to back away from once he took the first step.

“What? If it was that big of a fuckin’ deal, you could have told me that you don’t like keeping after her.”

“Jesus, it’s not!”

She was yelling now, unable to keep her emotions from getting the best of her. She looked after Tallulah like she was the one that had given birth to the four year old that slept peacefully on the couch, cuddling her stuffed elephant in place of her father.

“You know that I love her and that I’d do anything for her, but it’s different when you leave me alone with her all of the time. She needs you, Har. More than she needs me, and you’re acting like your job is more important than her. You have to be there for her, Harry.”

A nasty scoff left Harry’s chest that would haunt Y/N forever. She’d never forget what he said next.

“Right. Thanks for the parenting tip. Last time I checked you weren’t her fucking mu-”

“Yeh gonna freeze t’ death out here, ya know?”

The same voice that plagued her head pulled her out of reliving the events that landed her here, on a snow-covered patio, just as the first of what she knew were going to be many tears rolled down her face.

Y/N whipped her head around, frowning when she realized that Sarah and Mitch had lied to her and that they definitely had invited both of them to the Christmas party.

“Should have known those two were up to something,” was all she replied, quickly swiping the single, stray tear that stung her cheek as it touched the cold air.

“Jesus, you’re shivering. Here,” Harry began shrugging off his coat, ready to offer it to Y/N to keep her from catching pnuemonia.

She hadn’t realized just how cold she was. Her lips felt like they were going to crack at any moment, and she was almost certain it would take upwards of an hour for her to feel her toes again.

“Harry-” Y/N started, her voice sounding soft and defeated.

“Please don’t be stupid, Y/N. You’re gonna get sick.”

He spoke to her in the way that he would Tallulah when she refused to let him brush her hair after a bath, sternly insisting that she’d wake up with painful knots in her head if she didn’t let him run a comb through it. There was something comforting about it, but also something so incredibly sad about it all at the same time.

Reluctantly and without looking him directly in the eyes, she took the long, fur-lined coat from his hands, almost flinching when she accidentally touched pinkies with him. The coat was well-loved, ridden with his scent and most likely permanently stained with a little bit of spit up from when Tallulah was a baby. It smelled like home, Y/N thought.

There was a long pause between them, neither knowing what to say or where to even start. Y/N found herself missing Harry even more now that he was standing right next to her, brawny arms leaning against the frozen railing.

“How’s Lulah?” she asked, able to find her voice amongst the anxiety prodding every inch of her body.

Harry nodded as if to say she was alright, then cleared his throat.

“Good. Misses you.”

He wanted to tell her that he missed her, too. A whole fucking lot. But he was trying to prolong having that conversation in fear that it wouldn’t end the way he’d planned it in his head and she’d walk away from him forever.

“She asks about you every day. ‘Bout when you’re comin’ home. Said she doesn’t like how quiet it is without your music playing in the kitchen.”

She was crying now. Fat, wet, silent tears in the opposite of Harry’s direction so he couldn’t see. She missed hearing Tallulah’s raspy voice asking her question after question about where eggs come from and why anyone would dare take away someone’s babies the way farmers do with mummy chickens.

“I know you’re not ready to talk,” Harry began.

“But do yeh think you could at least come home? It doesn’t feel right without you there.”

Y/N did what she could could manage the tears streaming down her face like a waterfall, hoping Harry would think her face was just cold as she aggressively rubbed her cheeks with her fists.

She was ready to give in, seeing him in person immediately shattering any bit of strength to stay away from him that she had left. Maybe she’d find some clarity if she stopped sleeping on a pull-out sofa that did absolutely nothing for her already-bad back and went back to where she’d lived for over a year with the two people she felt like she’d spent a lifetime loving.

Slowly, her eyes went to meet his. She saw how tired he looked, for lack of a better word. Even though it was dark, the light from the snow accentuated the deep circles under his eyes. His hair looked like it hadnt been washed in days, the way it used to look when Tallulah was a baby that cried at all hours of the night. His posture was, to be quite honest, shittier than it normally was. Y/N knows it hasn’t been that long since she’d been gone, but she could almost swear he looked skinnier than the last time she’d seen him, given that the hollows of his cheeks looked concave and scrawny.

Just as she parted her surely-blue lips, ready to tell him everything she’d wanted to tell him for the past two weeks, the ringing of Harry’s cell phone caused them both to jump.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“’M sorry. It’s mum. She’s got Lulah. Give me just one second.”

His eyes were pleading, almost like he was silently begging her not to run off if that’s what she was thinking of doing. Y/N’s ears perked up at the mention of his mother. She wondered if she knew about any of this. Surely she did, as Harry tends to confide in her for just about everything.

She was trying not to be nosy, but it appeared that Anne was speaking quite loudly, so it was a bit hard for her not to. She couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying, but she did hear one word. It was clear as day, and she knew immediately that something was wrong.

Raspberries.

Y/N’s head whipped around in Harry’s direction, and she saw the way his face was void of all color and his chest had started to heave.

“That’s never happened before. Did you give her the antihistamine?....What’s she sayin’?....Jesus Christ, mum. You have to calm down. Just go ahead and take her. I’ll meet yeh there. They’ll probably just have t’ give her a shot or somethin’....Mum, it’s alright. You didn’t know. Just get her in the car, please. I’ll be there in twenty.”

Harry clicked his phone off and shoved it in his back pocket, a sense of urgency taking over him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ve got t-”

“What happened?”

Y/N was just as worried as Harry was, feeling sick to her stomach that something clearly awful had happened to her.

“Mum’s watching Rosie, too. Lulah got into the bag Gem packed for her and ate somethin’ with raspberries in it. Said her throat feels scratchy, which is-”

“That’s not normal,” Y/N stated, being keenly aware of how Tallulah only ever tends to break out in a slight rash every time she eats the bright pink fruit.

“Yeah,” Harry replied.

“Y/N, I have t’ go. But I really want to talk t’ you. You don’t have t’ say anything back. Just hear me out, yeah? Please don’t disappear on me again.”

She wasn’t listening to him, only worried about the little girl with too many allergies and a keen interest in anything sweet.

“Can I go with you?”

Her voice was quiet, as if she were afraid of Harry telling her that she wasn’t allowed to see his daughter. She knew it was his decision and that she had to respect it, but all she wanted to do was hold her tiny body in her arms and tell her how much she missed her and that she was going to be alright.

Harry stuttered a bit, clearly not expecting her to ask him such a thing. Part of him was happy that she was willingly offering to be near him, but he supposes it’s only got to do with her worry for his daughter.

“I, erm, uh, yeah. Of course. Let’s go. Mum’s taking her t’ the hospital over by her house.”

He ushered her back into the warm apartment and back out the front door towards his car. They couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge the stares thrown their way.

The car ride was quiet. Harry had left the radio off during his drive to Mitch and Sarah’s, too busy rehearsing what he was going to say to Y/N if she actually let him talk to her. Y/N sat with her knees to her chest, but opted not to turn away from him. That was a good sign, Harry thought. The heat was on, but Y/N was still freezing. She supposes Harry was right about her getting sick.

“Could you drive a little faster?” Y/N asked after some time, fiddling with the cuff of her jeans.

“No,” Harry retorted.

“It’s snowing, Y/N. Don’t need all three of us t’ end up in the hospital.”

She had half the nerve to roll her eyes at him, but she knew he was right.

“Hey,” Harry called out to her.

He started to reach over the center console for her hand out of habit, but felt his heart sink into his stomach when he remembered the state of their relationship and slowly retracted it. He thought she didn’t notice, but she did.

“She’s gonna be fine. Mum said she wasn’t even crying. Probably just needs a few shots t’ make the swelling go down.”

Y/N nodded instead of responding, sinking further into the seat but keeping her eyes on the snowy road ahead of her.

Silence took over again as they trecked through the snow towards Tallulah, with tension so thick it felt suffocating. From the corner of her eye, she saw a pair of Tallulah’s winter gloves tucked into one of the cup holders and she wanted to cry again.

But instead of doing that, she laid her palm face-up on the console, waiting for Harry’s eyes to catch them. When they did, he hesitated, flickering between her hand and her face. She still wasn’t looking directly at him, but he knew she knew he was looking at her.

He tested her first, lying his hand next to hers, but not touching. She didn’t pull her hand away, and he swears when he looked down, he saw her hand inch towards his as if she were coaxing him. Harry thinks this might be the last time he gets to touch her if she decides that she can’t forgive him for what he said, so he goes for it.

He laces his fingers with hers, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief take over his head and his heart when he finally got to feel her skin against his after what felt like centuries. She doesn’t wrap her fingers around his like he did to hers, her hand still lying limp against the arm rest, but he’s okay with that.

It isn’t until they’re pulling into the hospital that Y/N gives Harry’s hand a squeeze.

They were getting there. At least Harry hoped.

Y/N is physically unable to keep herself from smiling when she hears Tallulah practically squeal her name the second she steps into the room she’d been given. Her voice was deeper than usual, most definitely due to the accident that landed her here in the first place. Tallulah all but jumped out of her bed to greet her with a hug, which Y/N accepted without a second thought as she wrapped her arms around the small girl and sat with her on the bed, most likely staining Harry’s coat with the emollient cream they’d coated her rash with at the hospital. As if that coat could take any more beatings.

Harry watched from the corner, feeling somewhat out of place for whatever reason. He knew he owed Y/N an apology for what he said to her that night, and at that moment he felt like he owed Tallulah one, too. How could he say those things to her? How could he let his arrogance get the best of him and ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to him?

Anne briefed him while Tallulah had her mini-reunion with Y/N, letting him know they’d given her a few shots and could go home as soon as the swelling in her throat had gone down. She wouldn’t stop apologizing to Harry for causing her grandbaby harm, but Harry assured her for the twentieth time that accidents happen and that it certainly could have been worse. Anne soon sensed the tension between Harry and who she hoped would be her daughter-in-law one day, and told Harry she’d better get going because she’d left Rosie with the neighbor. Her eyes urged Harry to fix this shit at all costs because she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and Harry was not one to disobey his mother.

“Are you coming home?” Harry heard Tallulah ask Y/N.

He locked eyes with her for a split-second.

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed.

Harry felt his heart jump as he was now paying extra attention to the woman holding his daughter like she was the most precious thing on earth.

“Gotta make sure you get tucked into bed alright.”

And then it sunk.

“Will you be there when I wake up?” Tallulah asked with eerily familiar green eyes peering up at Y/N from her lap.

This time it was her heart that sunk.

“I....don’t know, Lulah. We’ll see,” she whispered, feeling tears pool in her eyes once again.

Y/N hid her face in Tallulah’s hair, for fear that Harry would see her.

“How’s Carrot, hmm? ‘S he doing good?” Y/N blurts out in diversion, hoping Tallulah would be more interested in talking about the fish Y/N had won her at a carnival a few years ago than where she stood with her and Harry.

Tallulah talked her ear off, filling her in on everything she’d missed while she was gone. She tells Y/N that their kale plant in the garden was huge now, seemingly sprouting overnight. She also tells Y/N that Rosie can walk now, or at least can wobble a few steps before falling down on her bum.

Harry watches as Y/N pretends like everything Tallulah is telling her is the most interesting news she’s ever heard. That’s what parents do, and that’s exactly what Harry had shouted at Y/N that she wasn’t. He had fucked up in the worst way and only fate could tell him whether or not he’d be able to fix it.

It was Harry’s turn to cry now, pretending to rub exhaustion out of his eyes rather than tears. Much like earlier when he’d instinctively reached for her hand, he’d hoped she didn’t see it.

She did.

Y/N kept her promise to Tallulah and tucked her into bed after she was discharged and sent home with a steroid pack and rash cream. She willed away the wave of nausea she felt walking into the house she’d shared with Harry after all of this time, telling herself that she just needed to make sure Tallulah knew she was at least there to tuck her in. She took turns with Harry, each of them running their fingers through her curls and telling her to have sweet dreams and that they hoped she felt better in the morning. Tallulah insisted that she was fine and wanted to stay up and talk to Y/N about what she thought Santa was doing right now and if he was going to bring her the glittery nail polish that she’d asked him for, but the sleepiness in her eyes told a different story.

“Do you want me t’ call Sarah and have her take you back to your car?” Harry asked when they returned to the living room where they’d entered.

“Figured we ought to have that talk,” she said, unable to meet his eyes for the umpteenth time that night.

“Yeah,” Harry replied in a tone that almost sounds like relief.

“We can definitely do that.”

The pair find their way to the couch, sitting faced towards each other, but not touching. It’s awkward and it makes Y/N want to fall apart because this is her Harry and she’s in her own home, yet it didn’t quite feel it.

“You hurt my feelings,” is all she says, picking at a loose thread on the sofa.

“I know I did,” Harry began.

“I can’t take any of that back, but I want you t’ know how sorry I am, Y/N. None of that shit was true. I should have told you I was gonna be out late. Shouldn’t have even gone out with them, t’ be honest. I couldn’t even tell yeh why I lied when you asked if I saw her there. Just didn’t want you t’ get the wrong idea, I guess.”

“Harry, I already told you that I didn’t care that you-”

“I know yeh did,” Harry interjected, “But I want you t’ know that I’d never even think about doing something like that t’ you. You’re quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened t’ me. Sometimes I don’t even think you’re real. I wouldn’t have made it without you. Neither would Lulah. And that...”

He pauses, trying not to burst into tears right in front of her. Y/N sees his jaw tensing, something Tallulah does when she’s attempting to calm herself down after throwing a fit. She isn’t sure why, but she begins to feel at ease the longer he talks. Maybe it’s just hearing the sound of his voice after so long or maybe it’s because he’s telling her what she’s been wanting to hear, what she was once afraid that she’d never be able to.

“That shit I said about you not being Lulah’s mum. That’s a load. I know you know that. You are her mum, whether she knows that or not. I’m sure she does... I know she does. You’ve been there for everything. You never complain when it gets hard. Yeh could’ve been doing anything else besides helping my sorry ass take care of her, but you didn’t. ‘M not sure if I’m doin’ a good job of convincing you to stay, wouldn’t blame you if yeh didn’t want to, but I really hope that you do. If you don’t, I still want yeh t’ know that you’re her mum. You’ve done things for her that she doesn’t even realize. She loves you so much, Y/N. And so do I. You’re the love of my life. Always will be. I don’t think there’s anybody else out there that makes me feel the way you do. You’re it for me and I need you t’ know that.”

He’s blubbering now, not caring that she sees the salty streaks subconsciously flowing from his dark and gloomy eyes. He felt it coming. She was going to leave. She was going to finish packing tonight and walk out of his life and he wouldn’t get to spend the rest of his life showing her how much he loved her.

That’s when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s light, but it’s meant to be comforting.

“Can it be my turn now?” her voice laced with tears as well.

Clearly it was a night for crying.

Harry nods, because that’s all he can do.

“I was frustrated, that night. I don’t think I should have made as big of deal out of you staying out so la-”

“No. You should have. I was being an ars-”

“Harry,” she pleads, “Let me finish, please.”

He lets out a shaky, “Okay,” and she continues.

“It’s not a big deal when you go out with your friends. You’ve just been so....absent lately and that was what set me off. When Clara called me that night it was just so, embarrassing I guess? I didn’t know what to say to her, and it obviously didn’t look good. But I know you wouldn’t do that to me. You’re a good person and a good dad, Harry. I hope you know that, even if you don’t feel like it right now. And the Lulah thing...that hurt. A lot. I know you’re stubborn and hate admitting that you’re wrong, so I’m going to let that speak for itself, but I’ve never once regretted anything that I’ve done with you two. I knew it would be different being with you, but I’ve never thought of any of this as a sacrifice or a burden. You guys make me so happy. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much of a privilege this has felt like to me, to be able to watch her grow up and be a part of it. She is the most magical thing that’s ever happened to me. And so are you.”

Harry’s staring at her, still crying, sillhouette lit up by the lights on the Christmas tree behind her that’s decorated with the ornaments she made with his daughter on that dreadful night. He doesn’t want to hurt Lulah’s feelings, but he makes a mental note to throw them away the second he’s able to so he doesn’t have to think about this ever again.

“I love you, Harry. Please don’t ever lie to me again. Even if it’s about how many minutes you are away from the grocery store. I can’t take it. And I can’t stand to feel so far away from you like this. It’s....gross. And I hate it.”

He perks up at what she’s just said, wondering if she’s saying what he thinks she’s saying.

“You’re staying?” he sounds hoarse and both him and Y/N know he’ll wake up in the morning with a headache from how much he’d been crying.

“Don’t think I have it in me to leave, bubs.”

There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her lips, and Harry’s pulling her into his chest. She holds him as he weeps silently into her neck. The cloud of sadness that had held her captive like a nightmare rushed out of her body so quickly that she couldn’t quite process it. All she felt now were Harry’s arms holding her close and his blubbering into her hair about how he was sorry over and over again.

“I know you are,” Y/N cooed, scratching his scalp in the way that she knew calmed him down.

“‘M gonna keep sayin’ it until you believe me,” he whimpered.

“I do believe you, Harry. I promise. We’re gonna be alright.”

That seemed to steady him a bit as he collected himself. He still held her as his shaking breaths began to even out. He wouldn’t dream of letting her go ever again.

“We’re gonna be alright,” Harry repeated to her, his voice almost inaudible had Y/N not been as close to him as she possibly could have been.

She pulls back to brush the stray curls from his forehead, where she pressed her lips gently to his temple as if he was so delicate that he might shatter if she used anymore force.

This time it was Y/N that saw his face surrounded by the multi-colored lights strung around the fir tree they’d picked from the farm just days before they thought their world was ending. He was beautiful, from the crown of his hair to the tips of his toes, inside and out, she thought. Maybe he didn’t feel like it at the moment, but Y/N made a promise to herself that she’d spend the rest of her life proving to him that he was.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #dad!harry #dad!harry styles #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles x reader

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avengers-age-of-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

just for you, honeybee (2/?)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers x reader (platonic)

word count: 2,107

authors note: second part of this ongoing series! i still don't know how many parts this is going to be but i seriously want to finish this lmao. hopefully this will be a series i actually complete! please leave feedback - i truly appreciate it!

warnings: mention of bucky's death, uncontrollable sobbing, character death, a few curse words

summary: dating back to 1943, you, james barnes, and steve rogers were best friends, including bucky being your boyfriend. when you get a notice that bucky died in the war, you make it your mission to find closure for yourself and protect steve as he is the only remaining piece of bucky you have left. once you are offered the super soldier serum, you and steve must make your way through world war 2 - and the unknown future hardships to come.

recap: Steve seemed shocked that you were able to read him like that, but was defeated. With a sigh, he turned and reached into his handbag, pulling out a file, “there was this Doctor there, Doctor Erskine, who uh – he approved me for the army, y/n. But it’s for an experiment, something they call a super-soldier experiment, I’m not sure. I’m going – I leave in a couple days.”

How is your world falling apart this quickly?

Sending Steve off was honestly just as painful as it was when Bucky was shipped off. You didn’t want to guilt-trip Steve into staying – you knew how important it was to him to join the army and do something. However, now you were completely alone. You knew you had Becca and you could always write to Bucky and Steve, but it just wasn’t the same.

Both of your boys were gone.

Once Steve had told you about this super-soldier serum experiment, you chewed his ear off for a good 10 minutes. It was brutal, to say the least, and while pacing in your small living room, Steve sat in his seat, hands folded as he waited for you to finish.

This was his final chance to get into the army and while he hated the idea of leaving you, he needed to do something, not only with his life, but with the army. He needed to prove himself. He knew you could take care of yourself – you were independent and a firecracker – there was nothing you couldn’t do. However, while slowly trying to convince himself that you would be okay, Steve was also having a midlife crisis of his own friendship with Bucky. If he found out he left you alone while the both of them were at war, Steve knew Bucky’s reaction wasn’t going to be great.

Once you were done tearing Steve a new one, telling him that you supported him all the way, but you honestly wished he would stay – and possibly called him a dipshit in between all of that – you calmed down. With a quiet voice, you looked to Steve, “can I at least send you off?”

Steve felt his cheeks grow warm and let a smile slip onto his lips, “I would be honored if my biggest fan were there.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly, “shut it, you fat-head. C’mon, we gotta get you all dolled up.”

While it was just as painful to see Steve go, you knew he’d be in good hands and wouldn’t do anything too stupid. You had told him sternly, “I want the name of your commanding officer, his commanding officer, and any fat-headed buffoons that are in charge at your camp, okay?”

Steve had shaken his head, “yes mom, whatever you say.” His eyes rolled but he had a smile on his face, “just so you can keep an eye on me?”

You hummed, “that, and to know whose ass I hav’ta kick if anything happens to you, Stevie. And if you see Bucky, you tell him I love him, you hear?”

Steve saluted before he headed towards the platform, “love ya, y/n!”

You had a small smile on your life, “love you too, Rogers. Kill some Nazis for me.”

That interaction was nearly 6 months ago, and every day felt like a new hill you had to climb over. You sent postcards to both Steve and Bucky in hopes that they would respond every time you sent one, but that wasn’t the case. You weren’t mad, nor upset, just lonely. Steve had let you know that the serum worked and he had been reunited with Bucky after taking over a HYDRA base where you learned Buck was captured. God, that letter caused you so much turmoil and anxiety, but Steve had calmed your fears, letting you know that Bucky was okay. You had also recognized his handwriting at the end, “can’t get rid of me that easily, honeybee. I love you.”

You hadn’t heard from them in a couple weeks, and your anxiety was beginning to show. Nothing new had happened, so you truly had no reason to write to them, but you did anyway, just updating them both on your life and how much you missed them. You had seen Captain America’s tours and his posters all over Brooklyn, and you were so proud of your Steve.

But it was weird seeing him so tall and…built.

Tearing your eyes away from another Captain America poster with his boys behind him, you continued your journey to some local shops, stocking up on groceries and possibly a new pair of shoes. Brooklyn was quiet today, which was certainly odd; there was nothing ominous about it, but it was not something anyone there was used to.

Hands skimming through some plums, you picked one that you knew Bucky would love. With a soft smile, you put the fruit in your basket, continuing through the store until you heard quiet whispers:

“Are you sure he’s here? The Captain America?”

“Mary, I told you, I saw him clear as day; no clue where the man was headin’, but he’s here.”

“Is there a tour or somethin’ here in Brooklyn?”

“Mary…I ain’t no mind reader, he could be stoppin’ by before he goes back off to war.”

Your heart nearly exploded out of your chest. Steve was here, back in Brooklyn? Wait – if Steve was here, then Bucky could be, too!

Quickly dropping the items you had in your hands, you ran out of the grocery store as fast as your heels would let you, passing by Grover in such a rush, he couldn’t even say hello. Crossing the street in a hurry, you grabbed your purse tightly and ran up your apartment fire escape stairs. Once you reached your floor, you grabbed your key and opened the door, being met with your Steve Grant Rogers and a very beautiful woman dressed in an army’s uniform.

“I – holy shit, Steve – oh my god,” you stumbled, out of breath as Steve stood up, towering over you, “I thought you were smaller.”

Steve stepped forward, hands out in case you fell or needed a hug, “side effect of that serum I told you about, remember?” The woman behind him gave Steve a look at the mention.

You caught your breath, “give me a hug, you doofus! Oh my gosh, those letters do you no good – nor do the posters!”

The two of you embraced as Steve held you in his arms, careful of his trembling hands, “’used my spare key, hope you don’t mind.”

You ran your hands over his back and his hair, “I get to see my best friend again, I don’t care how you got in here. Now, where’s Jamie, I – I need’ta see him.”

Steve pulled away and laid his hands on your shoulders, “actually, I wanted you to meet someone before… this is uh, Peggy Carter, she’s an agent of that Strategic Scientific Reserve for the serum and one of the best. Peg, this is y/n, the one who wrote to me and…Bucky, all the time.”

Peggy stood up, hand outstretched towards you as you shook hers, “nice to finally meet you, y/n. Steve here talked lots about you.”

You didn’t fail to notice her solemn look and the file of papers tucked underneath her other arm, “it’s, um, nice to meet you too, Agent Carter.”

The three of you stood in silence as Steve guided you to the remaining chair in the living room. With a bite to your lip, you turned towards Peggy, “I hate to be so forward, Agent, but I’ve seen those files before. I know what – what they mean.”

“Y/N,“ Steve began, “please let her –“

You cut Steve off, “Stevie…where is James?” Your eyes immediately started to fill with tears but you held them back for the sake of your own.

Peggy cleared her throat, “Miss L/N, there was a mission that included James Buchanan Barnes and during that mission, a part of the train that the soldiers were riding on exploded. Amongst the fight, we believe Barnes –“

Steve stopped her, “Peg, she – she doesn’t need to know how…”

Tears escaped your eyes as you looked at your best friend, “Stevie… Is he..?”

Steve ran his hands over his face, “he – he was hangin’ onto the side of the train, y/n, and I let him fall. I couldn’t reach him and…”

The rest of Steve’s story fell upon deaf ears. No, not deaf ears, but ones that were ringing. Bucky was dead. He was dead. He fell off a train and was dead. He wasn’t coming home.

Bucky wasn’t coming home to you.

At that revelation, your body began to shake uncontrollably as the tears fell from your eyes, unable to be stopped. You tried to breathe but the pressure on your chest was unbearable. You tried to look at Steve, but your eyes were so blurry, “St-“

No words left your mouth, only the sounds of your sobbing. Steve leaped forward, wrapping his arms around you as you cried, screamed for Bucky, for your Jamie.

"No, no, not James! Steve, please!" you cried, falling onto the floor with Steve as he held you.

Peggy let her own tear slip, overwhelmed with your reaction. Leaving his dog tags, his files, and a medal on your table, she stepped out of your apartment.

Mrs. Betty Davis stepped out of her apartment just as Peggy shut the door, hoping nobody heard your cries and screams for James. Mrs. Davis looked to Peggy, “that boy, Barnes… he never came home?”

Peggy wiped her stray tear and cleared her throat, “I’m afraid not, ma’am. He died an honorable death, taking down a,” she paused, “a Nazi base.”

Mrs. Davis shifted her gaze to the door where she could clearly hear you crying and yelling for Bucky, that he wasn’t dead. She looked down to her welcome mat, “he was a good man, always takin’ care of that girl. His heart beat for her, he turned her world. Wouldn’t surprise anyone if he had a ring lyin’ around. She was just as in love with him as he was her.”

Peggy’s eyes filled up with tears as your neighbor explained you and Bucky’s love for one another, “I had only met him once but he… he seemed genuinely good.”

Mrs. Davis gave a sad smile, “he was. Thank you…for letting me know.” Peggy nodded at her.

Back inside, your tears had stained Steve’s shirt as he held you close, “I know y/n, I – I know. I got you.”

You had stopped screaming for Bucky, but your hands shook as they held onto Steve, fresh tears still running down your cheeks. With a shaky breath, you grasped onto Steve’s shirt, “do – do you think he was in pain?”

Steve let his own tears slip but held his own, “I don’t know y/n, but I’d like to think he wasn’t. He – uh – he told me, before he fell… he told me to tell his honeybee that he loves you so, so much and he – he wanted you to have his tags.”

You pulled away from Steve’s chest, looking at him in slight confusion, “his…tags?” It had then dawned on you:

Bucky wanted you to have his dog tags from the army.

Feeling a new thread of tears about to be shed, your lip quivered but you covered it up, glancing over the room until you saw the file Peggy had sat on the table. With shaky hands, you leaned towards your coffee table – the one that Bucky would rest his feet upon all the time until you smacked them off – and grabbed the file. Opening it up, you immediately saw his army identification photo and his dog tags hanging in the middle of the file.

You shut the flimsy piece of paper before you could cry anymore. Turning to Steve, you noticed his eyes were also red from crying, “what now?”

Steve and you now sat on the floor, backs resting on one of your chairs, “I hav’ta finish what I started, with Johann Schmidt and Zola. Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded your head, wiping your remaining tears on your shirt, “of – of course Steve.”

He let out a shaky breath, “I wish I could take away your pain, but I can’t. Before Buck was shipped off, I promised him I would take care of you, and right now, I need to be here for you. So, if you want to, I can ask Peg if you can come along with us, with me, and once I’m done, we can… we can do whatever you want to do.”

You picked at your nails, anxiety swallowing you whole, “and what if you don’t make it back, either?”

“I will.”

Honeybee Taglist:

@clownerlyluv

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cherryyharryy · 4 years ago

Text

Harry’s been acting strange lately, so you go to the set of his new movie to find out what’s going on.

From this & this requests.

WC: 1.4

***

You could tell by the last text he sent that things weren’t great, or as Harry so eloquently put it, bloody amazing.

And in the last phone call, he sounded a little too chipper. Voice a bit more fluttery and light than his usual drowsy tone.

He’s lying.

You’ve suspected it for the past few weeks, but didn’t want to push him into talking about something that he was clearly avoiding. But as the days went by, and his texts became more and more optimistic, you knew something was up.

What really tipped you off, was the lack of invite to the set. Harry bent over backwards to get you into every rehearsal and show that you could attend. You were no stranger to the studio, and made yourself at home in more than one producer’s house on a couple of late night sessions. You even sat off to the side during a few radio interviews. It was rare if you weren’t by his side. But his lips have been sealed about his new movie.

It’s possible you’re invading territory you really shouldn’t be stepping foot in, but you called his mom last night and she’s been worried too, having picked up on her son’s unusual flighty voice as of late. She encouraged you to confront him; the soft sugarcoating game the both of you had been trying with Harry only allowed him to think he was getting away with his fibs.

The gravel beneath your car crunched louder than you would have liked. Not that you were planning on sneaking around an entire movie set in search of your boyfriend, but you hadn’t intended on alerting everyone of your arrival either, which is exactly what you’ve done. As you step out, about a dozen pairs of eyes follow the endless walk you make towards the open set. None of them are Harry’s.

Feeling self conscious as no one even asks your name once you reach the bustling center, you gratefully spot the bright pink hair of one of the actresses, Jill. You’ve met before during a group date not too long ago.

“Y/n! Hi! How are you?”

“It’s nice to see you again! I uh, just thought I’d stop by to see Harry. He around?”

“Mhm,” Jill squints and does a full rotation, shrugging when she doesn’t spot him. “Oh, I bet he’s in his trailer.” She points over your shoulder. “His is like the third row, I think.”

“Thanks!”

You feel a little relief to be away from all the unknown faces, and even more so when you catch Harry’s name on the first trailer in the third row.

He swings the door open after just one knock, surprise written all over his face for a bit longer than you would have liked.

“Y/N? Baby, what’re you doing here? Everything alright?”

He widens the door and you step inside, biting your tongue to keep the quip you want to dish out at bay. He’s not happy to see you in the least.

“Just haven’t seen you in a while.”

“We saw each other last week?”

Says the man who clings to me when I’m trying to get out the door for work. “Thought it’d be nice. We can go out for lunch.”

He toes at the ground, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “We usually have somethin’ here.”

“Soo, you’re turning me down?”

“No, no, f’course not.”

“Cause it sounds like you are.”

You sit on a small leather couch, assuming he’ll join you without a gesture, but you have to pat the space beside you before he moves from his spot at the door. You get a good look now; purple bags tucked under his eyes and skin so dry it looks painful. Your irritation crumbles. When you take his hand in yours he squeezes so hard you have to bite down on your cheek.

“Harry,” you reach up with your free hand and thread your fingers through his hair, attempting to gently anchor his head back so he’ll look at you. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing—”

“Don’t give me that.”

He sucks in a shaky breath, looking everywhere but at you, the first sign of tears to come. “I’m shit.”

“What?”

“I suck. I can’t do this. This movie.” He shakes his head, suddenly amped up and frantic. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You don’t know what to say, certainly not expecting that confession. Your jaw lowers, but your brain doesn’t offer anything up.

“It’s too...demanding. Emotionally. I can’t pull it off. I have to do over ten takes for each of my scenes. I’m driving everyone crazy.”

“Harry, if they really had a problem they’d say something. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“I’ve heard them, y/n.” He snaps at you with this one, the tears spilling right after. “Some of the sound guys are making bets at how many takes I need.”

What can you say? No amount of positive affirmations can fix this. And part of the progression of this downward spiral he’s in, is due to the typical Harry tactic of bottling everything up until he explodes. All his emotions shoot out of the gate, and now you’re desperate to try and stop a race horse.

“Harry,” You’re stern with his name, wiping his tears and grabbing his hands, “You’re in a funk. And you’re gonna stay there as long as you let yourself.”

“I—”

“Uh uh, just listen. You’re not gonna wake up one day and just snap out of this. It’s been building up, little by little, weighing you down. And look, look how it’s seeped into all the other parts of your life. You’re exhausted, you’re too embarrassed to even talk about it. I know you’re not eating, and the only reason you’re even showering is because you have to for the movie.”

He bites his lip, perplexed for only a moment at how you can read him.

“If you’re struggling, you need to tell someone. Ask for advice, ask to watch your scenes back so you can see where to improve, ask for help, Harry.” You sit back a little, grateful the tears have subsided, assessing the new look on his face. “You’re still very new to acting. And I think doing so well and gaining that confidence so rapidly with your other movies kinda screwed up nature’s path.”

He’s soaking up every one of your words, nodding along now.

“You’re supposed to screw up first, and then become a heartthrob.”

He chuckles, and you realize it’s not just the first time since you arrived, but the first time in a while. In weeks.

“I don’t want you to be right,” he straightens up, swiping his tongue over his lips, “but I guess you are, aren’t you?”

You shrug, pleased with the smile teetering on the corner of his mouth. “Won’t argue with you, if that’s what you’re sayin’.”

“Thank you.” He leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Can I have a real one too?”

He rolls his eyes and plants a dramatic and wet kiss to your lips. You feel him relax into you, his mouth switching all gears to on.

“Whoa,” you laugh, pulling away from his lips. “Won’t be doing you any favors if we fuck in your trailer. Don’t wanna think about the kinda bets they’d make about that.”

He hums, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I mean it, thank you.”

“I love you. I want you to be okay.”

“I am.” He sighs, lips twitching. “I’ll talk to the director tomorrow.”

You raise your brows, not satisfied. “Today’s good too.”

“Alright, alright. Today.”

“Good.” You peck his lips. “I’ll let your mom know too.”

“My mum?”

“Oh...yeah. Coming to set was her idea.”

“Oh really?”

“Hey, you put on quite a show for the both of us. It was the last resort.”

Harry grunted, not surprised the two of you connived a plan together. “I’ll let it slide.”

You snicker, “you don’t have a choice.”

He pulls you closer towards him, circling his arms around your back, pressing a kiss to your head so soft it burns. “Thank you for coming.”

“Mmm. I hope you feel better. Soon.”

“I will,” he rests his cheek atop your head, holding you closer so you’re in his lap. “And for the record, I’ve missed you.” He lifts your head up, finger gently pressed under your chin. “Let’s go to lunch.”

#ehhhh not so happy with how this one turned out #i'm sorry for whoever requested these ones #requested #requests #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #cherryyharryy

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tsuy4n · 4 years ago

Note

NZHZHSNS HI HELLO UH I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT I ACTUALLY WANTED TO REQUEST— so uh remember that drunk fic that you did? umm, what would the MC's reaction be when she sees the video? and would her interactions with everyone change? anyways thank you !!!

Okay. Okay. So I'm very sorry. I just saw this. Me is busy with stuff and so, yeaaaa! Let's do this!

Drunk: After

"Ugh...My head."

Mc groans out while looking for their D.D.D to check the time.

"Why did I even drink that much??"

They stand up, still half asleep while heading towards their bathroom to fix their self.

"My head feels like exploding. I don't wanna go to school and just stay here to sleep..."

Mc whines but changed their clothes into their RAD uniform and head to RAD nonetheless, after taking the hangover pill that Lucifer left at the table, along with her breakfast which had a note.

"Surprisingly everyone had an agreement of making your breakfast. You must be having a massive headache, so if just want to take a rest for the rest for today, go ahead. -Lucifer."

They chuckle and kept the note with a smile on their face.

"...Why am I having this feeling of disgust towards myself?"

You ask as you shiver, having goosebumps while looking confused.

...

"I regret my decision now."

They grumbled as they walk at the hallway, the noise making her head to ache more.

"I should've just stayed home and lazed around."

Mc continues to grumble, not even realizing a hand coming towards her shoulder.

"Good morning, Mc. Are you feeling okay? I thought you would be staying and resting at home."

Simeon greets then questions with a bright smile.

"Huh? Oh, hey Simeon. And yeah, I'm doing fine..I guess."

They replied, mumbling the last part with a sheepish smile.

"And I just didn't like the thought of missing today's lesson. It's my fault for drinking too much anyways."

Mc felt the shame crawling its way towards them, making them completely confused. Wondering why they're feeling such shame and disgust towards their self.

"Well, if it isn't Mc."

Solomon enters the scene, somewhat looking completely smug as he smiles at them.

"It's great to see you attending RAD. I really expected for you to be resting at the House of Lamentation."

You felt like sweating, and feeling nervous in front of the angel and human sorcerer.

Just what is this heavy shame feeling on my shoulders???

They thought as they stared at the two handsome males, who seemed somewhat shining bright and looking so smug, especially Solomon, the human sorcerer.

"What are you being so smug about?"

Solomon hums as he continues to smile that you even cursed at his handsome face for making your heart so weak, that made you pissed.

"Ah, that's right. You said that we should be giving you some warning before smiling, right?"

You stared at him with wide eyes, confusion completely written all over your face.

"Huh??? What???"

The two of them laughs, finding your confused look adorable for them that it just made them want to tease you more.

"Anyways, don't have a heart attack when one us smiles, okay?"

Simeon says, patting your head that your confusion meter kept rising.

"That's right. Ahaha."

Solomon winks at you, and it seems that an arrow just pierced your heart and...eyes. But, of course, you responded with a small smile.

F*ck.

"Mc!"

Luke runs towards them, smiling brightly as he gives them a hug.

"The demon brothers said that you'll be absent today because you're sick! Why are you here instead of resting? Are you gonna be okay taking classes when sick??"

Mc couldn't help but be in awe at the little angel, thinking he's just the most cute and absolutely adorable being they have seen.

"Of course."

They replied with a soft smile, completely forgetting their head aching somehow.

"Anyways, I'll get going now. See you later guys."

You said your goodbye to the three, now remembering that feeling of shame and disgust once again.

"Did I miss something? I don't remember anything after taking my 7th glass or something."

They take a deep breathe, a small smile showing.

"I'm sure I didn't do anything weird."

Soon you felt someone tap your shoulder, which made you turn around with a hum.

"A pleasant morning, Mc!"

Diavolo greets in a joyful manner, looking completely in a great mood, along with Barbatos. Both of the demons seems to shine brightly like Solomon and Simeon.

"Oh, Good morning, Lord Diavolo."

You simply greeted with a smile, finding them cute looking like that. But Diavolo pouts, making you wonder if you said something wrong.

"So they're not calling me Dia anymore, huh?"

Diavolo mumbles to himself which you raised an eyebrow, wondering what he had just said.

"Hello, Mc. Should you really be attending class today instead resting?"

They chuckle and smile.

"Yea, Don't worry, I'm doing great."

"Would you look at that! It's Mammon and Leviathan!"

The prince shouts with a laugh. The two demon brothers looked up and saw Diavolo, Barbatos and...You.

OMG! It's Mc! Gotta act natural!

"Hi, L-Lord Diavolo, and M-M-M-Mc!"

Levi stutters out, his face bright red, along with Mammon.

"Mc! What're y-y-you doin' here?! Shouldn't y-ya be r-resting at home or s-s-somethin'?"

Mc opens their mouth, an eyebrow rising.

"Uhh..It's lonely and quiet there without you guys, so yeah. And why are you both so red and stuttering so much???"

You put each of your hands on their forehead, checking out the demons temperature if their sick.

"Wow, hot. You two must've caught a cold or something."

Levi backs away, looking like he'll pass out any second because of your hand.

"T-The great Mammon isn't someone w-who'll g-g-get some dumb c-c-cold just like that!"

Mc scoffs and waves her hand.

"Sure, whatever. Don't go complaining when it gets worse. See you later Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Mammon and Levi."

You walk away from the four of them, now getting weird out about the boys.

The f*ck is happening?? Are they just in a good mood or they're just high or something???

Now all those thinking is making their head ache more again, that it made them groan and grumble.

"Sweetie, Mc! You're here!"

Asmodeus hugs you from behind with a big smile on his face, startling you.

"Being in a place without you is so boring~!"

The avatar of lust whines then giggles.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Whatever."

You push Asmo away making Satan to chuckle lightly, satisfied a little at what you did.

"Why are you getting so touchy? Just what is wrong with everyone today???"

Satan and Asmo stares at each other then laughs.

"Oh, honey. I knew you wouldn't remember anything about yesterday after getting si wasted like that!"

Asmo starts as he takes his D.D.D out, opening its screen.

"That was the most cutest, adorable and the precious thing I have seen of your side so far!"

Satan nods his head, completely agreeing.

"Indeed it was. It was definitely funny and cute seeing you act like that, Mc."

You stared at them with that confused expression once again which you had done many times for today.

"Here, watch this~!"

And so, that is when you felt like stabbing your eyes for seeing such things that you would never think of doing when drunk.

"See?! Especially when you smile! You see how charming thiz b*tch Ish?!"

You cover your eyes, completely bright red as shame, disgust, and embarrassment consumes you.

B*tch?! Did I seriously called Solomon a b*tch?!

They groan, then after that. They seemed to cough out blood and felt their self slowly crumbling, after seeing the scene of them hugging everyone and hearing them asking everyone in the room to marry them.

F*cking end my life.

The video ended which resulted a laughing Asmo and Satan, remembering the incident yesterday and a 100% want to experience it again.

But they flinched when they the lifeless looking Mc, who's soul seems like would leave their body any second now.

"Thank you for making me remember about my shameful and embarrassing actions of yesterday. Now if you would excuse me.."

You said, speaking sweetly with a smile.

"I would like to find a very deep hole and live there for the rest of my life."

They flinched as they saw Mc quickly dash away from them, startling both of them.

"Wha-?! Mc?!"

They both run after you to catch and stop you.

"You can't do that Mc!"

Satan shouts, holding your wrist.

"No! Let me go!"

Lucifer, Belphie and Beelzebub soon arrives, wondering what's that bickering is about.

"What in the Diavolo is happening here??"

Lucifer questions, arms crossed.

"Lucifer! Listen here, Mc wants to burry their self inside a hole!!"

Asmodeus shouts to his older brother.

"I said live! Not bury myself, damn it!"

You stop and stay quiet for a second, making them confused and worried.

"But that'll do much better!!"

...

"Why am I here with you all when I'm trying my best to ignore all of you earlier.."

You said as you sulk on a corner, covering your face.

"Come on, Mc. You shouldn't do that. You're making us sad..You won't be able to see our handsome smiling face."

Your face turns red once again, and you face Solomon.

"Don't tease me..!"

The sorcerer laughs and hugs you.

"Okay, Ahahaha. Here, let me hide you."

Everyone doesn't seem to like what's happening in front of them. Not one bit.

"He's definitely taking advantage of this."

Belphegor deadpans, earning a nod from his twin brother, who's eyebrows both furrowed.

"Yeah."

"Hey! Get away from Mc, you shady sorcerer!"

Mammon shouts, while pointing his finger at him.

"Yeah, get away!"

Luke also shouts, pouting his lips.

"I want to be in the hole of shame."

You grumble as the demons continue to bicker and glare at Solomon.

"Ahaha. Don't worry about what happened last night, Mc. What happened has happened. There is nothing to be embarrassed about."

You stare at Diavolo then laughs flatly.

"Uh, yeah, no. This is why I like to drink alone! I will never have to be worried about what weird stuff I did!"

Simeon chuckles and pats their head with a smile.

"Come on, Mc. No one even hated what you did last night."

Lucifer nods his head, cursing Solomon inside his head.

"Yes, indeed."

"In fact, we all quite enjoyed the affection you gave to all of us."

Barbatos joins as well, grinning. You sunk down, covering your bright red face.

"Well the sober me didn't."

Asmo chuckles and skips towards you, smiling brightly.

"You were so cute last night. Did you know that Mc?"

You deadpan an expression at the demon.

"All I know is that I'm horribly disgusted, ashamed, and embarrassed of myself."

Leviathan shrugs his shoulders while taking his phone out to play with it.

"I know how that feels, lol."

They all turned their heads to glare at the purple head demon.

"Come on, Mc. I'm sure you didn't meant anything you said last night, as much as it hurts to admit."

Diavolo assures, along with a soft smile but somehow looking like a puppy.

"Augh! I tend to be very honest when drunk, so this is killing me!!"

Beelzebub steps forward then stares at you.

"Do you want me to give you some of my warmth, Mc?"

You stare at the large demon and remembers that line you also said to him last night, which made you shiver in disgust at your own self once more.

"From no on, I will be limiting my drinking. 3 shots is enough. No more than that."

They deadpan and spread their arms to hug Beel.

"But why, Mc?! That side of you was absolutely adorable and precious!"

Asmo whines which made everyone to nod in agreement.

"If I ever get drunk, I will blame you Asmo "

The demon shrieks and points at Mammon.

"That's Mammon's job! Not mine! Blame him!!"

"Hey!"

The white haired scoffs and coughs.

"T-The great Mammon a-also...wants some hug...."

You stare at him, wondering what he said.

"You want some bug???"

You stare at him in disgust for asking you for a...bug. Lol.

"Anyways. I need some time alone for the time being. Don't look for me until I show myself to you all."

Mc quickly leaves the room, making the boys to chuckle which only made Luke confused.

And so, for the rest of the day, Mc avoids all of their friends. Not wanting to remember their shameful actions.

"Mc? How are you doing?"

Satan questions as the brothers continues to do their thing, but is actually listening to what they'll be answering.

"Huh? Oh, I'm doing great."

They replied with a big smile.

"Besides for the fact about what I did last night is eating me up, so yeah. I'm doing absolutely great."

Everyone discussed at chat after having dinner with their human.

"Then it would be best to not bring up what they did or about what happened last night."

Diavolo informs, which everyone responded with a demoji nodding its head. And before Diavolo puts his D.D.D down, he chats one last time.

"Have a pleasant night everyone. Take good care of Mc. Good bye."

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me demon brothers #obey me undateables #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me simeon

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infinitegalahad · 4 years ago

Text

JOYQUEX NOËL À TOI MON ANGE

Summary: It's Christmas in Bastogne and you make Eugene's world feel normal for a moment.

Word-Count: 1.6k

A/N: I wrote this, running on a cup of dunking as I listened to French Christmas songs. Literally the one thing that sucks about being the youngest sibling out of three older siblings (big age gaps) is that everybody can get drunk but you and it’s hella awk🥲 anyways this not very original but it’s something I’d love to share. Gender neutral reader. Happy holidays!

The Holidays were always a pleasant memory in your mind. Leading up until Christmas day, the thrill of December made your cheeks warm. You closed your eyes, and as it flashed in the darkness, children laughing, the smell of pinewood and hot chocolate, a small gust of wind hitting against the window during a snowstorm, wrapped paper spread all over the ground. It was like that every year in your home with your overbearing parents, thousands of gifts that you didn’t need, and your siblings running around with their new toys. What you didn’t know is that you took that for granted.

Fluttering your eyes back open, you jumped back into your unfortunate reality. Instead of opening gifts and overeating, you were scrunched into a wet, dirt-filled foxhole. Not only were you cold, but your hand ached. There was an extended cut in your palm, but it had dried and frozen over. You ignored it to the best of your ability. Heavy flurries rained down onto the sky, finessing against your exposed skin as you shivered. You held your rifle close to your body, but nothing was keeping you warm. Snow used to be a pleasant memory, and it was now something you despised. You were beyond drained, emotionally, and physically. There had been so much blood and loss in the past few hours, and it was hard to follow along. Men you considered family died left and right as the guilt tug at your heart.

It seemed like a Christmas Miracle that the trees were exploding. It was eerily calm in Bastogne. You were far away from the company, nestled in a foxhole that was opposite to the Germans. The only noise that you heard was the wind and the muffled melodies coming from the Germans. You zoned out as your eyes stayed on the line, your gun by your side. A shell could hit you, and you’d be gone. It could be long and painful or short and quick. It was bittersweet, but if you were going to die, you wanted it to be over with—a flash of your life between your eyes and then darkness. Death wasn’t something you ever imagined yourself thinking about, especially at a young age. But here you were in Bastogne, freezing as you waited for an occurrence.

Instead of a shell, you heard distant footsteps walk towards your foxhole. Whoever was next to you plopped right next to you as their more prominent shoulder cuddled against your shaking one. You didn’t think much of it and just stared into the distance as everything became blurry and your eyes stung with tears. You would do anything to be back at home right now.

“Everything okay?” The voice said-a thick Cajun accent. You could hear it intrude into your thoughts, but you couldn’t move. Your eyes swelled as you sniffled your nose, shaking as you watched the tall trees and snow fade into mushy colors of black and white.

The Thick, Cajun voice came from Eugene. He softened his expression as he looked at you, shaking and trying to hold in your icy tears. Your lips quivered as your nails, bloodied and jagged, dug into the cold metal of your gun.

Eugene froze for a second as he grasped his thoughts, all eyes on you. He was usually distant from the group. Not because he didn’t want to be friendly, but the thought of losing another person with the gut-wrenching feeling wasn’t worth taking. It had been put into his mind since day one. You, however, were different. Kindness was something that war wasn’t associated with. You were a warming force in the cold night to Eugene; your smile or laughter with a snort would make him melt. But instead, you were holding back tears, and it was tearing Eugene up.

Licking his chaps lips, Eugene scooted over and bumped your shoulder. He sunk into the collar of his jacket as he looked into your [y/e/c]. “Y/n?”

Once again, you jumped back into reality as Eugene’s voice jumped out at you. It wasn’t even loud but a small call of your name. Fixing your position, you wipe your red nose and crystal eyes, nodding your head. “Yeah?” You managed to spit out as you held back tears.

You moved your hand away from your face, moving it downwards to your gun. Instead of feeling the cold metal brush against your skin, your hand was caught by a soft and warm hand. You turn your head over to Eugene, who is furrowing his eyebrows at your bloodied hand.

“Hey, hey…” He interjected as he exclaimed in your tiny hand with a long cut in the palm in his bigger one. His index finger stroked your tiny one as you looked at him with a blame expression. “How’d you do that?”

Freezing for a second, you thought about how you got the cut. It was all so blurry to you but involved a bunch of screaming, blood, and pain. You had caught your hand onto a barbed wire while with Eugene. You looked at your hand, which rested above Eugene’s, as you saw the large cut. You shrugged your shoulders and let out a sigh, “I forget. I think I was rushing.”

Eugene remembered it. Shells were going off left and right, and you grunted as hot blood spilled from your hand. He tried to run back to you, but he had to aid dying men. Biting his lip, he responded as he grabbed his bag, digging for supplies. “I’ll fix it up.”

Pulling out a cloth, Eugene held up a blue cloth. Out of the black trees and white snow, the Olympic blue headscarf shined. It reminded him of the kind nurse that he had formed a friendship with it. The last time he ever saw her, she smiled at him as he went back into combat. Renee was her name-an an angel from heaven. Like y/n, she was a kind soul. Caring. Her touch made men and women soften. Both of you had bloodied hands, talking about how you never wanted to see a dead man again. Renee was a nurse; you were a soldier. Both of you lead different lives, but you had one thing in common; you were angels.

Eugene sat there, holding the cloth up. You noticed him freeze and turned over, nudging his shoulder back. “Gene?”

“It’s for you, a gift...Joyeux Noël,” Eugene said, putting the cloth in your hand, “I was gonna get ya’ somethin’ for you in Paris, but we never got ‘dere. I know I’m doin’ this wrong, but-”

A smile grew on your face as you admired the scarf. You looked at Eugene and hid behind the scarf, concealing your blush. “It’s perfect...thank you” You thanked, “I had no idea you would do this, or that for the matter. But thank you, Eugene.”

Eugene watched your every move as you took off your helmet and tied the scarf on. He didn’t know how to word it, but you looked gorgeous. You were one of the most beautiful people Eugene had ever seen, and you didn’t even have to try. From your kindness to your natural beauty, Eugene knew he was in love with you. That warm feeling with his heart racing, cheeks growing and softened expressions. You softly smiled, turning to Eugene. Your smile was his weakness.

“You're perfect, y/n.” He muttered as he scaled your body, his cheeks redder than his nose. Your hand-sculpted perfectly into his bigger one as he squeezed it. You didn’t even need to respond as you smiled, holding out your bloodied hand. In Bastogne was the angel and medic in a foxhole on Christmas day, smiles exchanged as they held hands.

Eugene held your hand and nearly forgot that you had a large cut. The two of you shared a small moment of peace before jumping back into Bastogne. You threw your helmet back on as Eugene found a dirty bedcloth and tore it, still holding your hand.

You sat there quietly as Eugene worked on wrapping your hand. A smile was spread on your face. To be fair, Eugene had that same smile. Eugene and your shoulders collided as he slung an arm to pull you closer. For body warmth, obviously.

“Hey, doc?” You mentioned.

He turned over, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“You called me y/n again.” Eugene wasn’t one for nicknames. He always addressed you by y/r/n or y/l/n, never y/n. He did this to everyone, but this time was different. The two of you were different around each other. The way Eugene said in his accent made you weak in your knees. You wanted to hear him say your name thousands and thousands of times.

Eugene’s lips curled as he continued to wrap your tiny hand. “Yeah…” He looked down before looking back into your eyes. You’re big and gorgeous [y/e/c]. The headscarf matched well with your [y/h/l] [y/h/c] and soft [y/s/c}. Everything about you was perfect in Eugene’s angel. Y/n, the perfect angel.

“Y/” You playfully mimicked, deepening your voice. You chuckled when Eugene nudged your hip side.

“Y/r/n” Gene said in loving exasperation, a smile on his face as well.” “Watch the godamn line.”

You and Eugene sat in the foxhole together as he wrapped your hand while you watched the line. The Krauts sung Christmas carols as Eugene pulled you close to him. You leaned into his shoulder as sung you Les Anges dans nos campagnes.

And the world felt calm in that little moment you shared with Eugene of stolen bunny kisses, a headscarf, and Eugene’s soothing singing voice. You didn’t understand the words he whispered into your hair in French, but you did understand one word.

“Joyeux noël à toi mon ange,” He murmured as he left a small kiss on your cheek.

You still kept your eyes on the line as you once again buried yourself into his shoulder. “Merry Christmas to you too, Eugene.”

#eugene roe x reader #band of brothers #Eugene Roe #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #eugene roe imagine #carrie writes #people need to take my laptop away from me and dunkin as well #I really don't have a life and Lorde is making me angsty tonight #angst is the only thing I can write well lol #and by I mean angst with a happy ending!!

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parkjess · 4 years ago

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ASTRO Finding out you have dyslexia

Requested by @astrolight25 ♥️

Note: No matter what you’re dealing with, don’t let anyone sink in too deep in your thoughts bc of what they say. you’re always important, even if you don’t hear that often, you matter.

Myungjun:

You were at school/work when Myungjun, your boyfriend, was getting you’re bedroom clean and tidy.

His eyes caught the papers your forgot to hide somewhere he won’t find out, but he did. “Myungjun? Are you home?” You lock the door behind you, taking off your shoes and entering your bedroom that was half messy yet, a huge trash bag full of things you didn’t need in the middle of the room.

-“Hun...” he turns to you, only a little smile appears on his face, not the big, exposing teeth smile he uses to show usually. “What’s wro- oh, where did you get that?” You thought you put it in your bag. His smile turns to look somehow comforting, full of compassion.

-“Why didn’t you talk to me about it?” He stretches his hand far away from you, holding the papers in it. “I felt, like, I don’t know... scared.” You play with your fingers and look down as he puts the papers back on the shelf. -“Honey...” he holds you by the chin and lifts it so you’ll face him, pulling you closer to his body. -“I thought you know you can tell me everything. I won’t judge or love you less because of this. It doesn’t even matter to me as long as you’re here with me.” This soft side again showing, who could believe this is another side of the crazy Myungjun everyone else know? “Sorry... I’m not proud of it.” You mumble loud enough for him to hear. (I just gotta say, you have nothing to be ashamed of who you are and never feel ‘not proud’ of yourself!).

-“it’s okay... come here.” Myungjun says and pulls you into a bear hug, like only he does.

Jinwoo:

With all the fear you’ve been feeling lately since you found out you’re diagnosed with dyslexia, being anxious about jinwoo not knowing about it was worse to you, so it took time, but you finally decided to tell him.

You were turning around in bed for the thousandth time tonight, trying to get a good sleep, it didn’t work thanks to your thoughts. “Baby, you’re not calm, what is it?” Your boyfriend turns to you, it seems like he was awake for a while too since he speaks clearly, not with his usual sleepy voice.

-“Did I wake you up?” You whisper worriedly back. “No... I woke up because of the thunderstorm. What happened?” He’s now fully facing you, his hand is immediately caressing the side of your face. -“I have something to tell you...” you felt like your heart was about to explode, and not because of his warm touch. He only gives you a little smile and waits for you to speak again.

-“I was diagnosed... with-“ you started saying. “Dyslexia. I know baby.” He keeps that tiny smile on his tired face, surprises you. -“wait, you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, as if he was the only one who didn’t tell. “I was waiting for you to be comfortable with telling me, and not push you to tell me.”

-“thank you.” You simply reply, appreciating him more than you ever did as you both look at each other while another thunder strikes.

Dongmin:

You were just waiting for the right time to tell him since you couldn’t let yourself hide such a thing from your loved one.

He was working in his little work room in your shared apartment, learning scripts. “Baby?” He sees you in the reflection of the window above him. -“Yes?” You stop walking once he calls you. “Are you okay? You’ve been here for 5 times in the last 10 minutes.” He placed his paper scripts on the desk in front of him and turned to you. Usually you don’t walk around his work room, so he immediately noticed something wasn’t right.

-“Ah, that... do you have time?” You bite on your thumb nail, feeling your heart racing fast. “Always for you, come here.” He sweetly replies and pulls a chair to his front, for you to sit on. After hearing what you had to tell him, and was so afraid of, you saw how many worries you didn’t have to worry for the last period of time, and he was so comforting about it.

“And you thought i would... what? Forget you because of this? We all have something we deal with... you can feel comfortable telling me everything.” He takes your hand in his, rubbing the back of it gently and lastly placing a little kiss on it.

Bin:

Like Myungjun, Bin would also find out about it when he finds the papers of your diagnose. “Binnie, do you want somethin- oh my god... give me that.” You weren’t ready to tell him yet, and you felt like you have to fight it so he won’t read any further, but it was too late.

-“Why would you hide this-“ he starts to ask, completely calm, putting the papers aside. “I was afraid, okay?” You cut him off as he pulls you into his arms, and you start sobbing into his hoodie. -“Jagi... (idk I usually don’t use much Korean words in my scenarios but I can imagine bin saying this.) You know I’m always here for you, and will always be, you have nothing to be afraid of or hide from me, okay?” He makes you look up at him and cups your face in the palms of his hands, wiping your tears away with both his thumbs.

Minhyuk:

Minhyuk had no idea what you’re dealing with, but he surely could tell you’re bothered lately, since you found out.

“Baby, are you okay? You’re staring at the walls for 30 minutes already.” He giggles but nothing is funny for him, especially not when you’re like this. -“Promise me you won’t be mad.” You say as he sits on the bed, holding both your hands in his. “Why would I baby, what’s wrong?” He softly replies, having those puppy eyes which never fail comforting you.

After telling him, he only pulls you into a cuddle, pushing you softly on bed to spoon your body. ��Nothing you would say, will make me mad or upset with you.” He cups your face and leans in to place a peck on the tip of your nose.

-“You’re an Angel.” You simply say and hide your face in the crook of his neck as he pulls you even closer, until you become as one, and head to dreamland together.

Sanha:

“Y/n!” Sanha calls out to you from your room, while you are cooking dinner in the kitchen for both of you. -“Yeah?” You reply with the same tone, giving the soup one last stir. “What are these?” Sanha gets up off your shared bed, walking towards you, holding something you hoped he won’t see in his hand. -“Uhm...” you didn’t know what to say, should you apologize? Should you just lie?

“We said we tell each other anything!” He whines, annoyed by you not telling him, it makes him think you don’t trust him enough.

-“I’m sorry Sanha. I thought about telling you but I got nervous everytime.” You say, playing with the bracelet he bought for you from nervousness. “I’m not mad at you, it’s just... I want to know everything that happens in your life, which also includes this.” He point at the papers and puts them aside, stepping closer to you.

-“I love you.” You tell him softly, almost whispering. “I love you too.” He replies and pulls you to the tightest hug.

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joonie-beanie · 4 years ago

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Kissing Booth

So, a while ago an anon sent me this ask:

And I honestly thought it was really cute, so I decided to write a lil story out of it. It’s nothing extravagant, but I wrote it anyway!

Words: 2,387

Pairing: Bean x The Demon Brothers

The school festival is meant to be fun. It gives the students a chance to set up booths, and raise money for a good cause--like classroom funds, or charity donations.

Mammon, however, sets a booth up to make money for himself. A kissing booth, to be specific. He assumes that every demon within a two mile radius will be lined up, ready to empty their wallets in order to get a kiss from The Great Mammon, but...that’s not what happens.

No, half way through the festival, less than a dozen people have paid Mammon for a kiss. A few other demons had stopped, asking what the money would be put towards, and when he had answered “my wallet” they’d promptly walked away.

Honestly, what a fool.

Unfortunately, Bean still loves him, despite his idiotic ideas.

Sighing, she places a $5 in front of the demon--catching his attention. He lifts his head from where it’d been buried in his arms--dejected at his lack of customers--and his blue eyes light up when he sees Bean standing there.

When he notes the bill placed on the table, a brilliant smile tugs at his lips.

“See! I knew ya couldn’t resist kissing The Great Mammon!”

His comment has Bean rolling her eyes, and she reaches forward to snatch her money back. The movement flusters Mammon, who quickly jumps to his feet.

“H-Hey, wait!” he slaps his hand down on top of hers, cheeks heating up sheepishly as he looks at her. “C’mon, don’t be like that…”

She smiles a little, breathing a laugh.

“Take your kiss then, before I seriously consider getting a refund.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one that’s supposed’ta be kissing me,” he retorts. A pouty look appears on his face, and Bean is tempted to sigh. However, rather than continue to drag this on, she leans in and presses her lips to his. Solid, soft contact.

After a few seconds, she moves to pull back, but Mammon quickly reaches out and grabs her--one hand curling around her waist, while the other finds the back of her head. She makes a quiet sound of surprise as he tugs her into another kiss--and then another, and another after that.

He only stops when someone nearby whistles, making him aware of the intimacy of his current actions.

When he pulls back, Bean’s face has turned a pleasant shade of pink. Satisfaction beats steadily in his chest.

“I’d say that’s another $15 dollars right there. It’s actually probably more like $50, but I’ll give ya a discount since I’m a nice guy like that.”

He grins cheekily, laughing when Bean reaches out and punches him in the arm.

“You can’t extort customers for money by deciding to kiss them more than what they paid for!”

“Fine, fine~,” he relinquishes, grumbling. “I suppose I’ll give ya the extra kisses for free since it’s obvious ya like me.”

“Wow, how kind of you,” she responds, rolling her eyes a little, but she can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips.

“Oh, and speaking of kisses--”

Bean blinks as Mammon grabs her by her shoulders, directing her around the side of the table.

“--I need ya to work the booth for a few minutes for me. I gotta go do somethin’ real quick.”

Without waiting for her answer, Mammon slips out from behind the booth and begins jogging away. Bean blanches.

“Hey! Mammon!”

“I’ll be right back! I doubt anyone’ll be by anyway! It’s been slow as hell tonight!”

And with that, the Avatar of Greed fully turns and hightails it into the distance--disappearing into the festival crown. Bean is left there, shocked at the sudden turn of events.

Sighing, she flops down into his seat and pulls out her DDD. If what Mammon said is true, then she’ll just have to sit here and wait it out by herself until he comes back. However--

“I’d like a kiss please.”

Bean blinks as a demon slips a $5 dollar bill onto the table, grinning down at her. Where the hell had he even come from??? It’d only been a minute since Mammon had abandoned her here!!

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, pushing the bill back towards him. She forces a smile, drawing on her years of customer service experience to feign politeness. “I’m actually just watching the booth for a friend. It’s not technically open right now.”

“But I’m a paying customer, and I’m giving you my money,” he responds, clearly a little annoyed with her refusal. “So you should give me what I’m paying for.”

“I haven’t taken your money. And we’re not open.”

The demon’s smile drops away--his face scrunching angrily.

“Now listen here you stupid human--”

“Bean, how wonderful to see you.”

The demon’s words immediately cut off--recognizing the voice of the royal prince. Diavolo smiles down at the two of them, his hand coming to rest on the male’s shoulder, and he gives it a squeeze. The demon winces.

“There’s no issue here, is there?”

“N-No, sir--,” as quickly as he can, the demon twists out of Diavolo’s grasp and hightails it away. Bean sighs, relieved, and The Prince flashes her a knowing look.

“Did Mammon somehow rope you into this?”

“He ran away before I could stop him.”

“Ah,” Diavolo chuckles quietly, his eyes scanning the busy festival grounds. “Would you like me to stay and stand guard until he returns?”

Bean quickly holds up her hands, cheeks heating up.

“No! There’s no need for that! I’m sure you’re busy.”

Diavolo cocks an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want you being forced to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I’ll text the guys right now,” she says, holding up her DDD. “I’m sure they’ll help, so please. I don’t want to take up all your time.”

“You’re too considerate of me, really.”

Diavolo’s golden eyes stray to the table, where the lesser demon’s money lays abandoned. He picks it up and hands it to Bean.

“Consider this a donation to you for your trouble. He is one of my students, after all.”

Bean blinks, cheeks heating up as she takes the money from him.

“Would you like the kiss instead?” she feels as if her heart might explode while asking him, but somehow she manages to get the words out.

Diavolo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

“I mean, of course you don’t have to! But....I feel comfortable enough around you, so…”

The demon prince smiles softly at her admission, more than happy to hear that she feels comfortable around him. Enough to offer him a kiss, more so!

“Well, if that’s the case…,” Diavolo leans in, and cocks his head to the side--revealing his cheek. Bean, despite being embarrassed, immediately leans in and presses her lips to his skin.

“A kiss for My Lord,” she says as she sits back, hoping to ease the flurry of emotions now swirling around in her chest. Diavolo laughs heartily.

“Thank you. Now hurry and text Lucifer and the others. And, of course, call me if you need me!”

With that, he strides away from the table, sending her one last smile. Bean smiles back, hoping the blush on her face isn’t as obvious as she thinks it is, and immediately grabs her DDD.

Bean: SOS

Bean: Mammon abandoned me at his kissing booth

Bean: Please help

The message doesn’t take long to be seen by the brothers, and yet, by the time the first of the brothers manage to locate her, she’s already trying to fend off 3 more students--all vying for a kiss from one of the two human exchange students.

Apparently, humans are a hotter commodity to demons that the Avatar of Greed himself.

“Please, leave,” Satan speaks, a dangerous smile on his face as he steps up behind the crowd of demons. They look ready to pick a fight until they realize who’s talking. Then, they tuck their tails between their legs and scurry off.

Bean sighs. “Thank god.”

“I’m sure we’d all be more than happy to kill Mammon for you, if you want,” Satan says, crossing his arms.

Bean actually seems to contemplate the idea, which makes him laugh.

“Mmm, what kind of trash leaves someone else to man their booth,” Levi adds in, stepping up next to Satan. His eyes are focused on the DDD in his hand. “Besides, Mammon might think he’s the main love interest of a high school RP game, but he’s not. Kissing booths never actually work.”

Bean giggles at his words, posing a hand on her hip as she fondly regards them.

“Would you like a kiss for your help?” she asks after a moment, grinning at their reactions. Satan looks shocked more than anything, while Levi looks about ready to combust.

“No?”

Satan huffs.

“I mean, of course I won’t turn it down.”

Smiling, Bean happily leans over the table and meets him halfway--the two sharing a soft kiss. Once having expressed her gratitude to Satan, her attention shifts to Levi.

“Yes? No? Maybe so?”

“I...I guess o-one kiss would be okay,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears turning bright read as Bean gently cups his face and guides him into a kiss. However, just as she’s pulling back--

“Ooh! Me too!”

Before Bean can react, Asmo is running up and grabbing her by her cheeks. He kisses her sweetly, a tiny groan of satisfaction muffled in his chest as their lips meet.

“You know, you didn’t actually save her from anything,” Satan quips, eying him. Stepping back, Asmo pouts at his brother, leaving a red-faced Bean to try and get a hold of herself.

She’s not used to kissing different brothers directly after one another like this. And being in a public space doesn’t help her embarrassment.

“So? Does that mean I don’t deserve a kiss?”

“Guys, c’mon,” Bean tries to say, not wanting them to argue. They’ve already attracted quite a few stares. After all, it’s not everyday you see a bunch of demons all walking up and casually kissing the same woman, and a human at that.

Then again, she is standing behind a kissing booth…

“Hmm? Is Bean giving out free kisses?” Belphie’s voice enters the fray, he and his twin brother joining the others on the opposite side of the table. “If so, then I want one.”

“I mean, I wasn’t planning on giving out kisses, but--”

Before she can even finish, Beel has leaned forward--stealing her lips with a simple exclamation of, “I want one too.”

And the instance he pulls back, Belphie is grabbing her--guiding her into another soft kiss.

“Sharing is caring.”

Bean can feel his grin when their lips connect, and she debates hitting him. Lucky for him, she doesn’t. Right now, she’s too busy dealing with the mini meltdown happening in her brain.

So many kisses.

“Oi!”

At that moment, Mammon appears around the corner--his eyes narrowed on Belphie as he pulls back from his kiss with Bean.

“If you guys are gonna stand around my booth kissin’ Bean, then ya better fork out some money! How many times did ya kiss her? Ya owe me for those kisses!”

The five brothers surrounding Bean fix him with unimpressed stares. Belphie is the first to speak.

“You really think we’re going to pay you money after you abandoned her to work your booth?”

“She was getting hounded by a bunch of random demons when we got here,” Satan pipes in, crossing his arms. Mammon opens his mouth to argue--wanting to get the money he feels that he’s rightfully owed--but at that moment a shiver rolls up his spine.

Freezing where he’s stood, he slowly turns around--visibly gulping as Lucifer finally appears, standing right behind him.

“Mammon,” the eldest brother starts, smiling dangerously. “You do realize that it’s against school policy to use booths at the school fair for personal profit, yes?”

“I...I--”

“Therefore, you will be donating any profit you’ve made to the school. Not only that, but you’re going to pay June back for her trouble.”

His crimson eyes shift to the blushing girl, gaze softening when he sees her.

“June, what do you think is appropriate punishment?”

She takes a moment to think it over.

“Mammon gets no kisses for a week.”

The Avatar of Greed looks SHOCKED.

“WHAT?? But that’s not fair!”

“Just be grateful she’s not making you pay her money, idiot,” Levi responds, sounding less than concerned with Mammon’s current predicament.

“Now,” Lucifer says. “Dismantle this booth, and give me all of your earnings. I will hand them over to Diavolo.”

“Dammit…,” Mammon groans, sulking towards the booth. Bean is nice enough to pat his hair as he steps up beside her, but she’s smart enough to not give into the puppy eyes he turns her way.

In the end, he did abandon her and leave her to fend for herself.

“Bean, c’mon!” Asmo grins, skipping away, and tugging Satan along with him. “Let’s go play more games!”

“Mmm, Bean, let’s get some more food too,” Beel pipes up, following after his brothers.

Nodding, Bean slips past Mammon and moves to join them. However, before she can get too far, Lucifer’s gloved fingers find their way between hers.

“Wait for me a moment,” he says quietly, giving her hand a squeeze. The two hang back just long enough for Lucifer to collect the money Mammon has earned. Then, Lucifer is leading Bean after his brothers, their fingers comfortably locked together.

Silence stretches between them for a moment.

“I’ll take my kiss later.”

“Oh?” Bean raises an amused eyebrow at him, making him roll his eyes.

“Is the Avatar of Pride jealous over a few kisses?”

“It simply doesn’t feel right that I’m the only one being left out,” he responds, making her grin.

“If that’s so, then I’m okay giving you one now. I can suck it up and handle a few more seconds of PDA.”

“No, I’d prefer mine later,” he gives her hand another squeeze, his eyes glinting. “The kisses I intend to take from you wouldn’t be appropriate to show in a setting like this.”

Bean turns red at his words.

“Oh.”

Lucifer chuckles.

“Oh, indeed”

#bean #obey me mc #fic #bean fic #this is more dialogue than anything but oh well

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