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yoongiseesawmp3 · 4 years ago

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just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be.

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids.

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together.

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes.

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out.

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee.

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard.

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final.

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.”

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing.

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.”

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time.

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?”

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break.

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs.

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit.

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs.

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint.

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint.

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car.

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now.

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store.

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs.

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone.

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?”

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too?

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?”

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?”

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number.

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?”

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously.

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks.

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts.

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you.

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me?

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably.

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles).

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa.

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks.

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet.

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there.

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display.

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs.

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood.

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently.

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently.

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you.

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly.

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.”

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds.

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters.

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says.

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes.

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until-

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts.

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with.

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated.

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.”

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless.

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently.

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back.

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains.

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date.

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand.

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck.

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him.

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works.

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods.

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.”

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns.

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles.

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear.

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa imagine #seonghwa one shot #ateez one shot #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #ateez fluff #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa imagine #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa one shot

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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Just A House - F.W + S.B

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,

Fred Weasley (boyfriend) x Fem Reader x Sirius Black (Father)

About: The reader is finally reunited with her father, Sirius Black, after she was lead to believe that he was killed in Azkaban. During this heartfelt moment, Sirius finds out that she was placed in Slytherin House, he isn't thrilled - but her boyfriend, Fred Weasley, stands by her side.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of food and eating, death and gaunt physique.

Alone. Lost. Missed. Devastated. Confused. Guilty.

You felt like this on a daily basis, all of these feelings were about your father, Sirius Black, who had been absent since your birth after he betrayed the Potters, and murdered twelve muggles, including his friend, Peter.

Luckily, your father had been held accountable for his crimes and was sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life until he would meet dementors kiss.

You didn't know if he was alive or dead, and you didn't want to know.

No one talked about him and the only pictures you had of him brought you to tears as he stood beside his friends, smiling, knowing that he would betray them for Voldemort.

You didn't know how to feel at times - you hated yourself for missing him, for thinking about him, for imagining another life where you would get to have the father-daughter relationship you crave - looking in the mirror and seeing his eyes in yours was bittersweet; you had part of him with you, forever - but he's a murderer, a fraud, a rat.

Everything changed when the news broke out that your father escaped Azkaban: Hogwarts no longer felt safe, people stared at you for longer, giving you more dirty looks, more conspiracy theories about you being an undercover spy brewed up, and you were branded as a 'murderer in the making', even Harry couldn't bear to look at you.

The only person you had was your boyfriend, Fred Weasley, why he didn't hate you - you didn't know but you were thankful.

"It's getting bad again" you sighed, your head resting in your hands.

Fred frowned and rubbed your back, chewing on his food, swallowing it before speaking.

"It's not your fault, you aren't responsible for what he did," Fred reassured you, glaring back at students passing by.

Tears streamed down your face, you stared at your plate, in no mood to eat.

"Everyone either blames me, hates me, or suspects me, Harry can't even look at me, Ron can't stand you being around me!"

Fred shushed you, wiping your tears with his sleeve, "Listen to me, people are wrongly afraid of you - their fear is poison - I love you and who cares what my little brother thinks, he's too big for his boots."

"I care, Fred," you replied "I want to be accepted like everyone else is here, I can't even sit with my own house, they hate the fact I'm not celebrating his escape."

Your father broke free from prison, from certain death, yet you weren't cheering or jumping for joy - part of you wanted to be embraced in a warm hug, to finally have the father you always wanted - but the other part of you wished that he had lost his life because if he is as dangerous as everyone had been making out; more people would die, those you cared for, and your life could be on the line.

Laying wide awake in bed, you went through the photographs again, your father smiling, laughing and seen to be having a good time with his friends: harry's dad, James, Lily, Professor Lupin, and Peter who was always awkwardly out of place - his face often showing sheepish expressions.

Unable to stay awake and cry without waking the other girls up, you went into the common room, sitting down on the black leather sofa next to the fireplace that was as dull as the night sky without its stars.

You didn't know whether to light the fire and toss the photos in or to keep them in case you would forget his face - or needed comforting over what could've been.

Out of the corner of your eye, little embers sparked and flew from the fireplace, then before your eyes, the dim common room burst out into bright shades of amber, glowing your face and over the table.

Staring into the flames, your fathers face appeared in front of you, your heart began to pump so hard you could hear it in your ears.

"Y/N, is that really you?" he asked, sounding amazed.

Lie. He's a killer, Y/N, don't talk to him.

But he's your dad, don't you miss him? Don't you crave his attention?

"Y-Yes," you replied frantically "Dad-"

"We don't have much time, sweetheart, come to the Gryffindor Common Room."

It's a trap. Harry's dead, Ron probably is too, and Fred-

Sweetheart.

Departing from the fireplace, you hurried from the common room, taking your photographs with you.

Running as soundlessly as you could through the corridors and up the stairs, you remembered the password Fred shared with you, and you burst into the common room, coming face to face with your father.

There he stood, so skinny, dirty, his face gaunt and hair a mess, his chest covered in symbols and his prison attire in the state of rags.

How did he get here?

How has no one noticed?

Harry- he's standing right there... and Ron... and Fred is okay...

Why is Professor Lupin here-

"Y/N, I have waited since the day you were born for this moment," he said both quietly and softly, inching towards you.

He took hold of your hand, pressing it against his cheek before pulling you in for the tight embrace you had imagined for so long, you wrapped your arms around him, tears streaming down your face, feeling his weak body cradle yours.

"Dad, what how-"

"Peter, it was Peter Pettigrew all along," Fred spoke up, Harry was too afraid to admit the way he treated you was wrong.

You stared at your boyfriend and father, baffled.

"Wormtail framed your father, Y/N, he's responsible for all of this, not your dad." Professor Lupin sighed, walking towards you "The whole Wizarding World has been fed a lie."

You and your dad sat together, talking about everything and anything you could to get one another up to speed.

Your father tried to get in contact with you every chance he got but failed miserably, you showed him the photographs you had left of him, telling him just how much you missed him.

"So, what were you doing in the Slytherin common room?" Sirius asked, "You could get into trouble!"

You looked over to Fred, confused.

He doesn't know?

"I was sorted into Slytherin, dad." You replied, pulling the prefect badge out of your pyjama pocket, handing it to him.

Sirius studied the badge, shaking his head, handing it back to you - a disappointed look on his face.

"No, this can't be, how could you get sorted in with a bunch of sly, wicked, evil!-"

"It's not like that," Fred stepped in, sighing "Slytherin doesn't produce evil witches and wizards, she gets bothered enough being your daughter."

"But Voldemort!-"

"Peter wasn't a Slytherin was he?" Fred asked, folding his arms.

"No-"

"It's just a bloody house, Sirius! You've just got her back haven't you?" Fred held your hand, circling his thumb into your skin.

Sirius nodded "Y-yes, you're right Fredrick, sorry."

You and your dad shared some laughs, smiles, tears, hugs, and many stories before it was time for him to go - your heart so full with healing cracks started to chip again, you couldn't lose him - you just got him back.

"You can't go, you can't" you frowned, gripping onto his hand.

"I have to sweetheart, no one will believe me, it isn't safe for me to be out in the open like this." He said softly, staring into your eyes - the same as his own.

"But I need you," Your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes.

"And I'll be here for you, you'll get my letters, and next summer, you can come and live with me, if you want to."

Live with dad. Starting over. Catching up on everything we have missed.

"I can?" You asked, covering your mouth, your smile spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course you can,"

Since learning the truth and being given a chance to start over, the bullying didn't bother you anymore - you knew your truth and that's all that mattered.

You were finally able to eat your meals at your house table, often staring over to Fred, blowing kisses when the two of you weren't pulling pranks or skipping class to be together, for the first time in your life, everything felt perfect.

"I'm so happy," you sighed, cuddling up to Fred "I've got you, I've got my dad, Harry and Ron don't hate me, everything is... perfect."

"It always will be from now on, love," Fred replied, kissing your head.

But it wouldn't be perfect, because you had no idea that you were about to lose your father right in front of your eyes, and soon after the love of your life would be taken away from you when you would fight for a future worth living, something your father had done before you were born.

taglist: @horrorxweasley @inglourious-imagines @rreeaahh @themoonis-beautiful-tonight @supermassiveblackhope @pottahishotasf @potters-heart @livvysnaps @scorpireads @youralternantpersonality @onlyfreds

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter angst #Fred and George #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #the marauders #Sirius Black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black oneshot #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfic #george weasley #george weasley fanfiction

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incorrectnessduskwood · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Alright, here it is! Part two of the story I posted here (I guess I should come up with a title for it, huh?) There a few hundred words less than the other one but I liked the way it ended and I decided to go with it. I still have ideas to keep it going so let me know if you're interested in it. Hope y'all enjoy it!

Pairing: Jake x MC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: spoilers for ep. 8 (still), a little jealous!Jake, and you can see some of my own theories there but nothing much

Falling asleep was never something that came easily to Jake; the constant fear and anxiety of being found were always in his head and every little noise outside of his room would startle him awake, no matter how long he had been sleeping. Even when things were relatively safe and he knew there wasn’t anyone after him, sleeping was something Jake rarely did. He would sleep as little as humanly possible and usually only when he couldn’t bear to be awake any longer.

So it was a pleasant surprise when he quickly fell asleep by MC’s side. She had asked him to lay with her so she wouldn’t be alone because she was afraid of having more nightmares and Jake could never deny MC anything if there was the possibility of saying yes. They laid side by side, MC resting her head on his arm, her own over his waist, one leg between his, and her face mostly hidden in his chest. Jake had threaded his fingers through her hair, heard her sigh and relax against him, and she was asleep within minutes. She looked like the most gorgeous person he had ever seen and he was more than content in watching her throughout the night, to just keep her safe.

Still, Jake’s eyelids got heavy half an hour in, his hand tiring and resting on MC’s shoulder just before he finally gave in and let himself fall asleep, not wanting to fight to stay awake one more night.

When he woke up, it was to the smell of coffee and food, two things Jake wasn’t used to. His heart beat fastly as he sat up, looking around the room with wide eyes until he spotted MC sitting on the table with a mug in her hands and her tablet in front of her, and he remembered her showing up there the last night. She only raised one questioning brow, taking a sip from her mug as Jake finally breathed out, allowing himself to relax, and laid back on the bed. He heard MC chuckle and he only waved her off, closing his eyes and placing his arm over them. The bed was soft and still warm and Jake wouldn’t say no to getting some more sleep, even if he felt more rested than he had ever felt in years; he also wanted to bask in the feeling of being relaxed for a while longer.

A few minutes had passed when he felt the bed weigh down by his side and Jake felt MC’s hand in his hair, so he moved his face until her hand cupped his cheek. He took his arm off his face to look at her, smiling when he noticed the soft blush that covered her cheeks and placing one of his hands on her knees, running his fingers in random patterns.

Neither of them said anything for a while and Jake was more than content to just watch her, to memorize the soft lines of her face, the way her hair fell over her eyes, making them slightly darker but all the more beautiful. Her presence still didn’t feel real and Jake was afraid of it all being a dream—even if he wasn’t creative enough to come up with all of that—so he would take all the chances of having the reassurance that she was indeed there, he would take all the touches she deemed him worthy of having, he would enjoy all the looks she would spare him; anything that would allow him to have her as close as possible. He’d be happy to just look at her from across the room, to just know she was there with him and that she was real and safe and—

“Jake?” MC’s voice broke through his concentration and he blinked a few times to focus on her face again, finding a smirk on her lips.

“I’m sorry, MC. You were saying?”

“I just asked if you were hungry,” she answered through chuckles. “I made breakfast with some of the stuff you had in the fridge. I’d guess you’re just as hungry as I was when I woke up.”

Jake smiled, nodding before sitting up again. “Starving, actually. Do I smell coffee, too?”

“Of course you do. What do you think I am, a savage?” she pointed at the coffee pot on the table she was sitting at. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take your coffee and I didn’t try and guess it either.”

MC stood up and offered him one of her hands. Jake took it and let himself be pulled up by her, finding it all the better when she didn’t let go of his hand and walked with him to the table. She sat at the chair she was before, grabbing her mug once again. Jake poured himself some coffee on another mug and slowly sipped it as he watched MC read something on her tablet, her brows furrowing as she went along whatever text she had open. She would sometimes write something on the piece of paper she had by her side, then she would stare at it as she tapped her pen on the table, her lips moving as she reread some sentence or tried to make sense of something.

Jake realized he could stare at her all day, just watch as she did nothing out of the ordinary but still looked like the most amazing person in the whole world. That was until his stomach growled and he realized he actually needed to eat something and that he should get back to work. MC smiled at him when he raised from the table and walked to the kitchen. She had managed to put together some eggs with what seemed melted cheese and tomatoes, and Jake would be lying if he said it didn’t smell amazing. He took the whole pan and a fork with him before walking to his computer and turning it on.

There were a bunch of notifications from the group chat, mostly everyone keeping each other up to speed about how they were doing and that they were okay. MC had answered for both of them without actually saying they were together, but it seemed to be good enough for the rest of the group; she never ceased to amaze him with how well she dealt with people and how quickly and strongly she had managed to earn the trust from the group. Not that it should surprise him so much when he was also between the ones that had started to trust her so easily.

He hadn’t gotten any notifications about his persecutors nor any news about the police. Apparently, they were still investigating Hanson’s house and trying to find anything because, unsurprisingly, everything was gone by the time the police had gotten there. Good thing Jessica thought of taking pictures of everything so they could at least have some kind of proof; Jake wouldn’t be surprised if the police tried to turn it around and blame it all on the group. He opened Thomas’s videocall to try and see if anything stood out, if he could better the image of the kidnapper’s physique or face or anything that could tell them who it was behind the mask.

Sadly, there wasn’t much he could; even his extensive knowledge couldn’t magically unblurry the whole video or get rid of the mask. There were a few things he could take from the writings and pictures on the walls—not everything because it moved too fast—and he could say for sure that the kidnapper was strong and quick. Thomas had a hard time holding him when he yelled for Jessica and the kidnapper ran almost as fast as the two of them. Even if Michael had kept up with taking care of his physique and trained, he still would have a hard time keeping up with Thomas and Jessica.

Staring at the better screenshot he had managed to take from the kidnapper, he called out, “MC? Could you do me a favour?”

There was no answer and Jake turned his head to look at her. MC seemed deeply concentrated on whatever she was writing on the paper, her hand moving quickly and her head moving from the tablet to the paper and back to the tablet. He quietly stood up and made his way to her side, looking over her shoulder at the paper. Her handwriting was messy and things didn’t seem to follow an order Jake knew about, so he had no idea what she was writing. On the tablet, however, she seemed to be going through some police reports and their discoveries from the cloud. The only thing that stood out to him was the name ‘Phil Hawkins’.

Jake sighed, sitting on the chair next to her and placing a hand on top of the paper she was writing. MC pushed his hand enough so she could finish writing whatever she was writing before raising her head to face him, placing the pen on the paper.

“Everything okay, Jake?”

“I called you and you didn’t answer, thought I could take a look at what you were doing.” She dropped her eyes to the tablet and seemed to realize Jake knew she was searching for something about Phil. “What are you looking for, MC?”

“I’m trying to find out what they arrested Phil for and if we have anything that could prove his innocence.” She hesitated for a few seconds, her eyes darting down to her tablet before focusing on him again. “And I actually wanna ask a favour from you. Could you give me access to Phil’s phone?”

“Why?” Jake heaved a heavy sigh out his mouth, pulling his hand closer to him and staring at her. “Why are you so worried about him?”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, straightening her back before looking back to him. “He trusted me enough to call me for help, Jake. Not a lawyer or his sisters, me. We still don’t know for sure what his connection to Michael is or how much they actually knew each other back then, but I believe him.” MC sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know you don’t like him and I truly appreciate the fact that you want to protect me, but there’s a reason why you trusted me to help find Hannah.” She turned fully to him, placing a hand over his, her eyes soft and caring. “But you also have to trust my intuition. We both know it’s been right when you weren’t and I truly believe Phil is innocent concerning Hannah and Amy.”

“But you don’t know the whole truth either, MC. How can you be so sure you can trust him and that you won’t be helping a murderer get out of jail?”

MC smiled sadly, her eyes dropping to their hands. “You know, a while ago, when we first started researching about the man without a face, Richy asked me to be careful and not to turn it into a bigger thing than it was and I told him that I’m looking for facts and not monsters, and I am. I won’t get Phil out of jail by my intuition only. I need proof for the police to actually let him go and for me to be right. But I also need to look for the proof, I need to go through everything I can to make sure I’m right and for my conscience to be clean about freeing him. And if we’re going for not knowing the whole truth about something or someone,” she raised her eyes to him and Jake had never seen her look so serious before, “I also don’t know the whole truth about you but that doesn’t stop me from trusting you, does it?”

Jake didn’t have an answer to that and he couldn’t take looking at her eyes and seeing the hurt there. He knew she was right; he was, indeed, hiding things from her and, even if it was to protect her, it didn’t make it any less of a lie or an omission. How could he judge someone about hiding something when he was doing exactly the same, especially to her?

“Hey,” she placed a hand under his chin and raised his head so she could look at him. “I’m not saying it to make you feel bad. I’m sure you have your reasons to be hiding things from me, even if it’s just because of your hero complex, though it doesn’t make it any easier. But I also know everyone in the group is lying about something to me, too, just like you and Phil are. No one is one hundred percent honest all the time and I can’t force anyone to be. It just doesn’t stop me from wanting to help any of them or you. None of them have given me a bad enough reason not to try to help or to trust them. Even Lilly did her best to show she’s trustworthy. I don’t see any reason why it should be any different for Phil, especially if your only excuse is not liking him. As much of a flirt as he can be, it’s not enough for us to just let him rot in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, don’t you think?”

He sighed, nodding against her hand before turning his head to rest it on her palm, her thumb caressing his cheek. “Would you believe me if I said I’m actually feeling slightly guilty of going against proving Phil’s innocence, now?”

She chuckled, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? Of course I believe you.” MC’s fingers trailed over his arm, leaving goosebumps in their trail, her eyes soft as she stared at him. “Will you give me access to Phil’s phone, then?”

“That’s not fair. You know I couldn’t deny you that, MC.”

“I know you can’t but it doesn’t mean I can’t ask nicely. Me proving Phil’s innocent isn’t about choosing between him and you, Jake. Believe me, Phil may be nice and flirty, but he’s not my type. I’d rather keep insisting on this stubborn hacker I know.”

Jake chuckled, placing his hand over MC’s and turning his head so he could kiss her palm. “If he’s as stubborn as you are, I’m sure you’ll have a hard time getting through him.”

“You have no idea.” MC smiled, tilting her head. “Will you do it?”

“Of course I will, on one condition.” She sighed and muttered something Jake couldn’t make out, though he was sure it was something sarcastic. “Promise you won’t put yourself in danger over this. Or in any more danger than you already are. Freeing Phil will never be more important than keeping you safe to me.”

“I promise. I mean, if we’re both careless, who the hell is going to make sure we’re not caught?” Jake laughed and shook his head at her. MC leaned closer to him, their foreheads touching, her other hand sliding up his arm until she placed it on his shoulder. “Jake?” He hummed, not being able to look anywhere but her eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

“Not if I kiss you first.”

But MC was faster in closing the distance between them and Jake got caught in how soft her lips felt under his and in how her hands moved to wrap around his neck and play with his hair. He moved one of his to MC’s waist and the other to her cheek, wanting to pull her as close as he physically could, wanting to share the same space with her, to keep her from moving away from him.

Sadly, his lungs didn’t seem to get the memo and they soon burned and forced him to part from her. When they broke apart, Jake panted a little, letting his forehead rest against hers and keeping his eyes closed. It took a few seconds before MC talked again, “You know, making out with me won’t rid you of hacking into Phil’s phone for me.”

Jake chuckled, opening his eyes to stare at MC, and he thought he had never felt as happy as he did at that moment.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #everbyte studios #jake #duskwood jake #hacker boy #mc #duskwood mc #jake x mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood ep 8

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aggressive-positivity-network · 4 years ago

Note

do any of the mercs play board games?

Mercopoly (Board Game

Headcanons)

Scout:

You think he has enough of an attention span to play something that doesn’t involve sweating out his energy drinks?

Hell no!

He gets very bored very quickly, especially with something complex like chess.

He’ll play cards sometimes, but only Crazy Eights and Go Fish - that’s all he knows how to play.

However, there is one true board game he plays occasionally: Candy Land.

It’s one of the few board games that you don’t really have to read the rules for, and there isn’t any writing on the cards.

However, he only asks to play it when he’s not feeling very well.

Medic even has a page in his medical journal for the mercs that says, and I quote:

“The Scout has an extremely short attention span, and if an activity isn’t active or immersive, he will not stay long. If at any point he chooses a sedentary activity, a check-up is in order.”

As sad as it is, a request to play Candyland is a good way to know if Scout needs a little extra reassurance or support.

By the end of the game, Scout usually feels more himself, whether he wins or not.

Engie is especially good with Scout when he’s this way, being the one of the most emotionally sensitive of the group. But he also knows Scout would never admit straight-away how he was feeling, so he usually has a more fun way of getting answers.

“You feelin’ more like a King Candy or a Lord Licorice?”

“...Fudge Monster.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah...”

Spy:

If you ask him, he will most likely go off on a tangent about chess, and how it’s a game of strategy, deception, and crushing your enemy with your wit.

He scoffs at any other game, and constantly makes fun of several of his more intelligent peers for finding interest in them.

“You are mercenaries. Blood-thirsty killers of men. And you are playing ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’ like a hoarde of kindergartners?”

But one thing he cannot resist is Sorry.

He considers it above normal board games because it has strategy - or at least that what he says.

He actually just likes it because it’s a game of revenge, which is like a drug to him.

He’s gotten so good at it that if he asks you to play Sorry with him, it’s almost guaranteed that he’s mad at you and just wants to let off some steam by giving you a horrendous loss. However, occasionally, he’s the one who loses.

Spy isn’t a poor sport, exactly - he’s too cultured for that - but sometimes his pride outweighs his manners and he convinces himself that the other player cheated through made up signs of deception.

He simply “allows” them to win because he “doesn’t want to make a fuss.”

But god help the unfortunate soul who decides to rub their win in his face.

Sniper had won five games in a row, and it was clear Spy was getting hot under the collar.

Sniper ended their games with a mischievous, “You’ll get ‘em next time, tiger.” and a small pat on his shoulder.

Spy immediately saw red, grabbed Sniper’s hand, and before the aussie knew it, he was against a concrete wall with a butterfly knife to his throat.

“I could kill you right now. Your final cry for Medic will be drowned in blood, and I would leave you here to die a painful, dramatic death. You’ll be replaced with a rusted trash can of a bot until they could grow another clone of you. Every memory will be gone. The team will be shrouded in grief, not because of losing you, but losing what the clone can never have. And I shall bide my time, ask the clone to play the same game, and kill them when they win. Another clone, another kill. And again. And again. And again. You think the Manns give a damn as long as their work is getting done? You will never be able to form a single thought before I spill your blood - caught in an eternal prisoner’s dilemma where you always lose.”

After gathering his bearings, Sniper finally spoke.

“Is this about your takeout?”

Spy scoffed.

“Do you really think - !”

“Tonight, my treat if you don’t kill me.”

Spy squinted.

“Egg rolls?”

“And an extra order of crab rangoon.”

“Your treat?”

“Yep.”

“How do I know you won’t poison me?”

“Chemical test before and after the food arrives.”

“How do I know Medic isn’t in on it?”

“Miss Pauling as a witness and Scout as an overseer. Pauling’s main objective is to keep us alive, and Scout can’t do bloody anything subtle, even if he wanted to. You can also play back the cameras in the lab, if the mood really struck ya.”

Spy held Sniper against the wall for a minute or two while he thought it all over, then let Sniper fall to the ground.

“I don’t need your sympathy, bushman. But you had better keep your end of the deal. I am the only backstabber around here.”

Demo:

Can’t even stay awake long enough to play most board games.

On the rare chance that he’s sober, he, Engie, and Medic like to play Monopoly.

Here’s the thing: you should never ask a drunkard, an engineer, and a sadist genius to play Monopoly together. It will not end well.

They have been playing the same game for years, with new rules in place and physical extensions to the board in order to try and end the game. Every other Friday, they take the weekend to try and finish it.

However, it all ends up fruitless.

Demo is usually the one keeping the peace, since he is the least competitive out of the three. That isn’t to say he isn’t clawing for the win as much as the other two, but he is definitely the least invested. He’s mostly staying out of principle.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, ‘s ta ne’er give up, e’en when the goin’s gettin’ tough. Roll the dice, doc.”

Despite his confidence, he’s not even sure what he would do if he or anyone else won. It would seem more like a relief than a celebration.

Medic:

He’s the one who started the Eternal Monopoly game, which has led to some theories that the game itself came straight from hell, and is one of the many punishments used on sinners. The box does smell a bit of brimstone…

He seems to enjoy the chaos that each round brings and the challenge of coming up with new rules to the game. To any outsider, his commentary and directions are complete nonsense.

“According to zhe ‘Calvinball Rule,’ as stated by Engineer, and the ‘Double Kill,’ as stated by myself, since the current time ends vis a three and ve all received at least two kills zhis veek, ve need to double every other roll and whomever loses zhe resulting game of ‘Bim Bum’ vill have to go to zhe Purple Jail.”

The rules and mechanics are like an unholy amalgamation of Monpoly, Sorry, chess, D&D, Bluff, and poker.

However, when Medic isn’t stapling pages of rules together, he likes to play a nice, relaxing game of checkers with Heavy.

Both of them are excellent checker players, but neither of them care who wins.

In fact, they usually talk over the game, taking the other player’s pieces as one of them shares a story from that day’s battle.

They’ve even played while Heavy was in surgery - leading to many unfortunate times when Medic had to fish a piece out of Heavy’s intestines.

One would think that a genius doctor would also have a passion for chess, but he expresses his disdain for it almost every time the checker board is brought out.

“Ach, people think chess is such an intelligent sport. Let me tell you, liebling, it is terribly overrated. If zhe devil can play chess, anyvun can. He might as vell just give souls avay, vis those shaky claws of his.”

Engineer:

Being the engineer, he is usually the one to add to the Eternal Monopoly.

Pieces, board extensions, cards, trivia - it gives him a nice break from all the weaponry.

He’s usually the one who remembers all the mechanics and rules, and serves as the judge if rules contradict each other.

“Alright, now let’s see here…we’ve got the Infinity Loop over here, but now you’ve got the Time Travel card…how many years? Infinite? Ho boy…looks like I’m gonna have to add a Hilbert’s Hotel square somewhere. Hold on…”

Despite his affinity for Eternal Monopoly, Engineer will play almost any board game. He learns new rules and figures quickly, and enjoys the challenges that brings.

However, if he’s particularly burnt out, he likes to take a break by playing Jenga. He and Spy have a friendly rivalry, since Engie can tell which blocks are supporting and Spy has quick fingers.

Spy, oddly, is a lot more amiable losing in Jenga - he knows Engie won’t think less of him - but Engineer hates when the bricks fall over. Not because it means he lost, but because, to him, it’s a failure on his part…even if it was someone else that knocked it over.

He’s made several blueprints for the perfect Jenga game, but has concluded that no human hand could put it into practice.

During one particularly bad day, Engie bumped the table, causing the whole column to come crashing down. Spy had already recovered from the noise, but Engie was still standing there, stone-faced.

His eyes were covered by his goggles, but it was clear he was crying.

Several of his machines had broken on the job, and to him, this was just another egregious mistake.

Spy carefully put the blocks back in the container, and Engie came to his senses.

“I’m real sorry, Spy. Maybe another time…?”

Spy only nodded. He was thinking.

The next time they played, Spy brought out a different container.

Instead of wood, the bricks seemed to be made of a sturdy foam.

“They fall a bit more…quietly,” Spy explained. He dropped one, and it only made a small bouncing sound. “Pyro uses these, but they allowed me to borrow it.”

Engie was a bit skeptical at first, since it was a new material, but he got the hang of it rather quickly. He was almost ecstatic the first time it fell - the blocks barely made any sound at all!

After a few games, Spy had to leave for an assignment. Engie put a hand on their arm.

“Thank ya, Spy. Maybe you ain’t the cold-blooded backstabber I thought you were.”

Spy chuckled, but said little else. He didn’t want to admit that noise sensitivity plagued him as well.

Pyro:

Pyro loves board games, and has quite the collection in their room.

Each plastic piece is at least a little melted, and all the boxes have two or three scorch marks.

Hungry Hungry Hippos, Candyland, and Uno are among her favorites.

He is an absolute beast at Uno, though.

They take each game very seriously, especially when they can convince the whole team to play.

As you can imagine, it’s pure chaos - it even led to a rule in the Merc Guidebook: “When playing Uno with three or more players with the inclusion of a Pyro, at least one Mann Co. representative and/or a mediating Medic must be present.”

Pyro has been known the hide cards, bribe players, or even try to set flame to competition. Playing Uno is almost like a mission, with weapon preparation and Spy posing as other players.

The mercs even have a betting stand that Sniper runs. All parties have lost a lot of money that way.

It’s pretty much the only time outside of battle that the team remembers how cruel and malicious Pyro can be.

Sniper:

Conventional board games aren’t exactly his forté, but he does enjoy a bit of cards every once in a while - Solitaire being his favorite.

He even has a pack of cards in his Sniper Square for that exact purpose. It allows him the pass the time without having to look away from his targets too often.

On occasion, he could be pressed to play poker, but only if the stakes weren’t monetary (i.e candy pieces, crackers, duties, etc.).

His favorite part of every match is shuffling the cards. Pretty much every merc could shuffle cards, but Sniper could make them almost float with how quick his fingers and wrists moved. He always began the game with a new trick he learned, which delighted his fellow players (usually Spy, Engineer, Medic, and Demo).

You could always tell if he had a busy day because he would avoid tricks with too much movement, which would be murder on his sore fingers and hands.

Pyro is currently learning card tricks from Sniper, and show off what they learn at the beginning of every Uno game.

Heavy:

He isn’t a huge fan of the bright, plastic-y board games that Pyro has, although he will play them if asked.

It’s mostly because of how complicated the rules are and the fact there are almost never a Russian translation for the directions.

He always prefers checkers, cards, or mancala, which he almost exclusively plays with Medic because he’s the only one who speaks fluent Russian.

Heavy can play a mean game of mancala, though, and it’s the only game he can beat Medic at.

Soldier:

The only games he will play are Battleship and Uno - but only after Miss Pauling convinced him it was “American enough” because the game had red, white, and blue cards.

He prefers the electronic Battleship because of the sound effects and voices. However, if it’s out of batteries, he’ll make his own sound effects.

Miss Pauling is the best at pretending to be a commander, so she’s usually the one playing with him - but, sometimes, Demo gets in on the action, too.

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otakusheep15 · 4 years ago

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SFW Alphabet - Satan

I had a really hard time trying to get Satan’s character right, so I hope I did a good job with this one

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s not super affectionate, physical, verbal, or otherwise. Really, that’s just a side-effect of him being born from pure wrath. He simply just can’t express emotions very well. You’ll most likely have to initiate any affection if you want it. However, he does also like when you lay your head on his lap and he reads to you since it doesn’t require much.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’s the mom friend for sure. He helps you with anything you may need from studying to pranks. Of course, he does also make sure you both make it out of any trouble unscathed. I also lowkey see him as the type to carry around random snacks to feed strays he comes across, and he’ll give some to you so that you can also feed the strays.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Like I said, affection isn’t his strong suit, so cuddling isn’t really his thing. The closest he’ll get to cuddling is either you two sitting next to each other on the bed/couch or with him sitting up and you laying on his lap. He may also pat your head like you’re a cat. There might also be reading involved if he’s awake enough to read out loud to you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He does like the idea of settling down, but he’s unsure if he really can. Yes, he can do basic household chores like cooking and cleaning, but he feels as though he couldn’t handle the more emotional side of settling down. Doing something like that means you truly love the person you’re with and he’s afraid that he might not have the emotional capacity to feel that strongly about someone. Then you came along and destroyed all of that nonsense. Now he wants nothing more than to drag you away and live out a romance just like in his favorite books.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

There would most likely be a lot of yelling. Also lots of things being thrown around in rage. When he’s mad, he’s mad, and a breakup is a great way to get him mad. If he’s the one initiating it, he’ll try to keep a level head, but that solely depends on how the other person reacts. If they’re also calm, then it’ll be pretty civil and respectful, and they might even stay friends after. However, if the other person starts getting mad, that only makes him worse and it does not get better for that other person.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Before you? He never even considered the idea. After you? That’s practically all he can think about. You know that one friend we all have that constantly gushes over sappy romance stories and constantly wishes how that could live them out with their partner? Yeah, that’s him. He’ll never admit that out loud though. The only one who actually knows about all of his fantasies are Asmo because he once walked in on him comparing you to this one character from a romance novel he liked (kinda like Levi with his anime).

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He knows how dangerous he can be. Not only is he a demon, and a powerful at that, but he also the literal embodiment of wrath. Even after years of keeping up his gentlemanly facade, all it takes is the slightest inconvenience to set him off. So he’s extra careful around you. Physically, he tries not to get to close to you, especially when he’s pissed off. Verbally, he tries to watch his language around you because he doesn’t want to hurt you by saying anything mean.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

His hugs are extremely rare but surprisingly nice. Since he’s scared he might hurt you by accident, and his lack of need for physical affection, he doesn’t hug you very often. However, they are super relaxing when they do happen. He hugs you just tight enough to keep you pressed to his body, but not so tight that it’s uncomfortable.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Out of all the brothers, he one of the last ones to say it. He’s not all the familiar with the concept of love, especially in romantic context. Obviously, he knows how it feels in theory, but he can hardly figure it out in practice. The worst part is that he knows he loves you, but he has no clue how to go about it. When he does finally say it, he seems perfectly calm and collected, but he’s internally screaming the whole time. You’ll never know.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Surprisingly, he’s not one to get jealous easily. One of the benefits of having a poor grasp on emotions maybe? Whatever the case, he always tends to take a more logical approach to things, relationships included. He knows that you’re loyal to him and so he trusts you. If he has any reason to be jealous, then he’ll talk to you and workout any problems or concerns.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses can go one of two ways. They can 1) be the softest, most romantic kisses you’ve ever felt in your life, or 2) the most heated and passionate kisses you’ve ever felt in your life. Literally no in between. The former will usually happen during softer moments of bliss. Maybe you two were just in his room and relaxing or in the library studying. The latter only ever happens during more ~spicy~ times *wink wink*.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He hates kids. That’s it. He hates them. They’re such a hassle, they need constant supervision and care, and they never shut up. He is a firm believer in children being the worst creatures in all the three realms.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He always wakes up first no matter what. He’ll go down to the kitchen and make you a cup of tea, but that’s only when you guys don’t have school. If you do have school, he’ll wake you up as gently as possible and help you get ready.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’ll usually drag you to hs room so that you two can spend the evening reading together. Sometimes you end up sitting next to each other and reading your own books, others you may end up in his lap while he reads to you. You mostly end up falling sleep first, and he’ll follow soon after.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

This boy is the definition of closed off. It does not matter how close you are to him or how much he trusts you, he will never tell you anything. Okay, he does tell you some things, but only surface level stuff. If you want the real, honest answers he has, you need to pry them out yourself.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Lmao what’s patience? Seriously though, he actually has a decent amount of patience. He trained himself really hard in order o control his anger, so he can actually be pretty chill for the most part. Obviously, he still gets mad all the time, especially with Lucifer, but he does try his best.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He’s totally the type to write down facts about you in a secret journal somewhere so that he can reference it later. He has a great memory, but he loves just writing down everything you tell him about yourself just in case he forgets anything. He will never tell you or anyone else about the journal, but if anyone finds out, they will never be heard from again.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He isn’t one to have any particular moment in mind, but he absolutely treasures those quiet moments when you two are alone. No brothers to bother you, plenty of books and snacks, and just each others presence. It’s quiet, calm and peaceful. These moments don’t happen very often due to the chaos around you, so when they do happen it’s special. Just being able to spend time with you is his favorite thing in all three worlds.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is arguably one of the most protective brothers, and that’s saying something. The second someone even hints at hurting you, they’re dead. They just cease to exist. He will not let a single thing harm his precious human, and he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure your safety. He’d even go so far as to get himself in trouble if it means getting you out of it.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He’s much more casual than most of his brothers, so he doesn’t see the need in planning over-the-top dates. Obviously, he wants you to be happy no matter what, but he knows he doesn’t need extravagant dates to make that happen. I mean, if you like things like that he’ll certainly try for you, but it’s just not his style. He prefers causal, lowkey dates. Coffee shop dates, going to bookstores together, sitting in his or your room and reading all day, and going out to play with the stray cats are all ideal dates for him. He just knows that, as long as you two are together, everything is already perfect.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Obviously, he has some issues he needs to work out. His anger issues are, of course, the main issue, but that also leads into other problems. For example, his daddy issues hatred for Lucifer is something he needs to get sorted out. He also has a hard time expressing his true feelings for fear of letting his anger out as well. Most of his issues are emotional, so he needs a lot of time to work on them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not so much concerned with physical appearance so much as social appearance. he is highly concerned about how he looks to the public. If he needs to look physically appealing in order to keep a good social standing, then he’ll do it. He’s not vain like Asmo or Mammon, but he’d be quick to put more into his appearance if it means he gains something out of it socially.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Honestly, he’s felt incomplete since being born, so even with you he doesn’t feel quite complete. You definitely help fill some of that void he has in him, but not even you can fix him completely. If you did leave him, he’d be back at square one, so he needs you to be there in order to make him feel even the slightest bit more whole.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

As I stated before, I think he keeps a journal of all of your interests so that he can remember then, but I think it goes deeper than that. I also think he has one for each of his brothers that he keeps on him. Any time one of his brothers mentions something they like, he’ll write it down to keep it for later. That way, if an occasion (birthday, anniversary, etc.) that would require this information would ever arise, he would already have it written down. No one knows about these, and he’ll take this secret to his grave.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He refuses to even acknowledge someone without even the slightest bit of academic prowess. If he deems you to be stupid, you’ll never even hear from him again. He also cannot stand people who dislike cats.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He has a tendency to move around a lot when he sleeps. No one has any clue as to why, but it’s not really a problem. That is until you two start sleeping together. He either ends up on top of you or kicking you out of the bed. In the morning, he’ll apologize, but it’s not something he can really fix.

#OBEY ME #shall we date obey me #shall we date satan #sfw alphabet #scenarios #headcanon

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the-queen-of-hell-666 · 4 years ago

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The 100-Year Old Virgin

Pairing: Virgin!Steve Rogers / Fem!Reader

Words: 2000+

Summary: Reader has a crush on Steve but he is already seeing someone.

Warnings: explicit sexual content (vaginal sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (M and F receiving), squirting), friends to lovers, lost of virginity, SMUT!!!!! NO MINORS!!! 18+!!!!

A/N: This was my first time writing a Steve Smut fic (Only because I have only written Supernatural smut) and I am very proud of this fic. I like to write in 3rd person, just because it makes it easier on myself. There is some fluff at the end but for the most part it’s smut. Also I posted this on my Ao3 account and people seemed to really like it and I want to see if it happens with all platforms. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing it.

Y/n sat on the couch of the Avengers compound. She was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and one of the t-shirts, she stole from Steve, her best friend. She has her Y/h/c hair up in a top knot and black fuzzy socks on her feet. She was watching The Big Bang Theory on the giant tv in the lounge.

She was relaxing, when a tuxedo clad Steve Rogers came rushing out of the lift. She looked up as he rushed past her with a pair of black dress shoes in his hands.

Y/n whisted, “Why do you look like a blonde double o’ seven?” She questioned, pausing her show and standing up. Steve tries to put on his shoes but ends up falling flat on his face, he rolls onto his back and looks up at her. “Steve, why’re you in such a hurry?” She asked, helping him back onto his feet.

“You know Destiny?” He questioned, oh Y/n knows Destiny. She hates her, because the day Y/n had the courage to tell Steve how she felt about him, was the same day Steve introduced Destiny, his girlfriend, to the team.

“Yeah I know her.” She nodded, and then clenched her jaw shut, so she didn’t say anything she’ll regret.

“Well tonight I have a date and I think tonight… might be the night.” Steve shrugged, and a blush dusted his cheeks.

“Tonight might be the night for wha-” She started to ask, but it clicked with her and her eyes widened. “Steve are you a virgin?” She asked.

“What?! No, no…” He trailed off, and Y/n suppressed her smirk and took his shoes from him. She helped him with his shoes and then stood back up. He looked at her faded dark blue t-shirt. “Is that my shirt?”

“You should know by now that I steal your clothes all the time, Steven.” She shrugged, and patted him on the shoulder and walked to the couch and leaned on the back. She crossed her arms and looked up at him. The look on his face was nervous and he was playing with his fingers. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged, and nervously chuckled.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you’re about to sweat through your suit.” She said, and he sighed and dropped his defensive facade.

“Fine! I’m nervous that I’m not ready to cross that line.” He explained, and Y/n cocked her head to the side.

“If you’re not ready. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“But I feel like it is and I don’t know how she is going to react if I’m not ready.” Steve rambled, and she placed her hands on his arms, and he looked at her in the eyes.

“Steve, if she really loves you then that shouldn’t matter.” She said, and he let out a breath of relief.

“I wish that all women were like you.” He sighed, and she chuckled.

“Well they aren’t, unfortunately. But you’re going to be late.” She said, and he quickly placed a kiss on her cheek and grabbed his keys and wallet. “Bye!” She yelled, and Steve waved before slipping out the door. Y/n sighed and plopped back onto the couch with her blankets and pillows. “Good job, Y/n. You love him and yet you let him go.” She sighed, and buried her face in a pillow and screamed before taking a breath, then unpaused her show.

After a while she fell asleep in the sea of blankets and pillows. She woke up to the sound of the door open and shut. She jolted awake and looked at the mystery man in the kitchen, but she could see it was Steve. He saw that she was awake and paused in his tracks.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He questioned, as Y/n got up and walked into the kitchen behind the lounge. She grabbed a bottle of beer and popped the cap off.

“Yeah. But I needed to get up anyway.” She shrugged, then took a long sip of beer and then looked Steve up and down. “Your tie is still around your neck. So I’m guessing it didn’t happen.”

“No. I wasn’t ready, but she was and then when I told her I wasn’t… she broke up with me.”

“I’m sorry, Stevie.” She said sympathetically. “Wanna stay up late watching crappy tv?” She offered, walking back over to the couch.

“Sure.” He shrugged, and plopped down next to her. She leaned over and grabbed the remote, and her shirt rode up and Steve saw the back of her Y/f/c lace bralette, he blushed and quickly looked away. She leaned back and sank into the pillows.

“Alright what’d you wanna watch? Big Bang Theory? Game of Thrones? Supernatural?” She questioned, and Steve looked over the tv screen.

“What about Friends?” He shrugged, and she nodded.

“Sounds good.” She said, and played it and leaned back against the couch. After it started, Y/n realised that it was the episode, where Ross came back from China with Julie and Rachel was jealous, and Y/n can’t help but feel like she was in the same thing. The episode ended and Y/n was quick to pause the tv before another one could come on. Steve looked at her confused.

“Why’d you pause the show?” He questioned, and she turned to look at him.

“Why didn’t you go through with Destiny?” She asked, and he looked a little taken back by her question.

“Why do you ask?”

“I mean you can get any woman you want by just stepping outside. Most women are practically in love with you. I mean I’m in love with you-” She stopped her sentence, in realization of what she just confessed.

“Y-you love me?” He questioned, but Y/n didn’t answer, she just dashed down the hall to the stair and took them two at a time. She got to her floor and ran into her room.

She paced the room waiting for Steve to come knocking. “God damnit, Y/n! You take one look at that man and practically fall apart! Now you just confessed your love to him, right after a break up! Stupid, stupid, stupid!” She exclaimed, and then someone cleared their throat from behind her. She froze not exactly knowing what to do.

“I don’t think it’s that stupid.” Steve said, from where he stood at her doorway. Tears filled her eyes as she slowly turned around. She laughed a watery laugh and sat at the edge of her bed.

“Yeah, well I think it’s stupid that a man like you would ever look at me the way you looked at Destiny.” She explained, and he sat next to her.

“Why would you say that?” He asked her sympathetically, and looked at her with big puppy dog eyes.

“Because, I’m not pretty enough, skinny enough, good enough for a man like you.” She whispered, and Steve looked at her with confusion and a little bit of pity. She looked at him and saw the pity so she jumped up and started pacing the room again. “No! Don’t look at me like that!”

“Look at you like what?”

“With pity! I don’t want to be pitied.” She sighed, and he stood up and took her hands in his, so she’d stop pacing.

“I don’t pity you. And as far as I’m concerned, you are the most beautiful dame I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Steve said, she looked up at him as tears fell down her face.

“Then why don’t show it?” Y/n questioned, as her voice cracked. He decided instead of words he would show her, so he placed his hands on her face and leaned down and kissed her. She froze for a moment not really knowing what to do, but then she came back to reality. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He pulled her up by the backs of her thighs. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He laid her down on the bed and hovered over her without removing his lips from hers. He then pulled back and looked down at her.

“I don’t show it, because I was too scared to.” Steve said, and she placed her hands on his face, so he would look at her.

“Well, don’t get scared now. Because I want you, and by the bulge in your pants I think you want the same.” Y/n whispered, and he leaned down and kissed her hard. She untied his tie, then pushed his suit jacket off. She took her hair down and it flowed around her face, like a halo. She reconnected their lips as she unbuttoned his dress shirt. “Too… many… clothes…” She said, through kisses. He quickly stood up and took off everything except his boxers. He stood back and watched. As she sat up and took off her shirt, then her socks, and finally her sweatpants, leaving her in matching lace panties and bralette.

“You’re so beautiful, doll.” Steve said, and climbed on top of her. He kissed and sucked down her jaw, to her neck, collarbone, then finally to her chest, leaving little red marks in his wake. Before Y/n knew it her bra was gone, and Steve had taken one of her breasts in his mouth.

“Ohh… Steve.” Y/n moaned, as he nipped and sucked on one breast before switching to the other. He kissed down her stomach to the hemline of her panties. “Are you sure about this?” She questioned, and he looked up at her.

“Of course. I love you and I want to show you.” He said, and she smiled and pulled him up for a heated kiss.

“I love you too, Steve.” She whispered, and he again kissed down her stomach to her panties. He hooked his fingers under the hemline then slowly pulled them down. The cool air hit her already soaked pussy, and she mewled out. He smirked and gently spread her legs. He groaned at the sight of her completely exposed to him. He used his fingers to spread her folds, before he dived in. He thrusted his tongue into her wet channel. She moaned and mewled out as he sucked on her clit. He plunged two thick fingers into her. He curled and thrusted them in and out of her pussy. “Ohh… Steve, how are you so good at this?!” She exclaimed, as he slammed three fingers into her.

“Tony sent me a lot of porn, when I first started dating Destiny.” Steve explained, and Y/n rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“That sounds like him.” Y/n said, then he curled his fingers and they hit her g-spot and she arched her back. She cried out as her orgasm took her over. He continued to suck her clit and thrust his fingers, until she came down from her high. He took his fingers out and she took them and sucked them clean. He smirked and climbed over her and connected their lips. She rolled him over onto his back. She straddled his thighs, then pulled his boxers off. His hard member slapped his taut stomach. Y/n took in the size of his and practically drooled at the sight of him. She took Steve in hand and gave a few pumps, before taking the head of his cock in her mouth. She licked the slit, tasting the pre-cum already dripping down his shaft. She slid her mouth down his shaft, until he hit the back of her throat.

“Ohh… Y/n!” Steve groaned out, as she swallowed around him. She hollowed out her cheeks and gently sucked. He moaned and thrusted his hips up, so that his cock moved farther down her throat. Steve pulled her up, then rolled them over, so he was on top. He kissed her fiercely, as he lined up and started to push into her. She had to break away from the kiss, so she could cry out, as he bottomed out. “Oh. You’re so tight, doll.”

“Move. Please, Stevie.” Y/n whined, and he started thrusting in and out of her slowly trying not to hurt her, but she wanted more. “I’m not going to break. Please fuck me. Hard!”

“Whatever you want, babydoll.” He whispered into her ear, then started thrusting hard and fast into her. She cried out and arched her back, he used this new position and took one of her nipples in his mouth. He sucked and nipped on her breasts, leaving hickeys and red marks all over her chest. He kept thrusting hard and fast into her wanting pussy.

“Oh, fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Y/n yelled, and he brought a hand down and started rubbing tight circles on her clit. His cock hit her g-spot over and over again, and that set her off. Her thighs shook as she started squirting all over his cock and chest. Steve groaned at the sight of her squirting all over him. He pulled out quickly and came in spurts of hot, white cum. The cum covered her stomach, pussy, and breasts. He slumped over her without crushing her. After a few minutes of resting, Steve got up and walked to her bathroom, and grabbed a washcloth. He soaked it with some water, then came back in to see Y/n tangled in her white sheets, his cum covering her body, her hair a mess around her head, her eyes closed in peer bliss, and a lovestruck smile across her face. If Steve could take a photo of this he would, she was just so beautiful in his eyes. He walked over to the bed and gently cleaned the cum off of her body, then threw the washcloth in the laundry hamper. He climbed into bed with her, and she immediately cuddled up to his chest.

“I love you, Y/n.” Steve whispered to her, thinking that she was asleep until he heard her voice.

“I love you too, Steve.” Y/n whispered back, then closed her eyes and cuddled closer into his chest. He wrapped both arms around her, and hugged her closely to himself, silently promising never to let her go.

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve roger x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #bellas600smutchallenge

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nincompoopydoo · 4 years ago

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DEBRIS AND MISERY

SAME OLD LOKI ; PART 6 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.3k (oops) SUMMARY: You find yourself venturing deeper into finding the Loki variant on the loose with the help of Mobius and Loki while maintaining your temper around the God of mischief and fighting with your own demons. A/N: Downtime apparently lasted for more than a week. I had absolutely no motivation to write but I eventually came around. There’s alot going on in this. Please tell me what you think, what you love, hate and look forward to. Thank you so much for showing so much love to d&m. gif from this gifset by @sersi WARNINGS: Swearing. Imagery relating to death (i think?). You and Loki’s relationship fluctuating like the goddamn economy. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

Blue. Your flight suit is blue.

Your eyes sting with worry, ticking to a pair of hands buckling the straps that lay across your chest. A man secures it tightly, forcing your back against the cockpit chair. Your gaze drifts to the concentric steel rings of yellow, red, and white that stretch overhead and around you—being suspended within a 3-axis gimbal sends another churning sensation within your abdomen.

You hear a voice. It courses through the room and vibrates within your ears like fluttering echoes in a tunnel. It’s a man. He calls out your name from below.

“You ready?”

In your periphery, you see him, tall with slicked-back hair, standing with other men that adorn similar flight suits of blue. You nod, inhaling deeply as your hands reach for the controls. Suddenly, a metallic clang echoes through the room and the machine whirrs to life. The rings begin spinning in tandem, tossing your body in all directions. Your grip tightens around the controls, clicking with every push and pull as you struggle to analyze the spin. But, the machine spins faster.

Faster and faster and faster.

The machine continues to whirr. Your hands are still shifting the controls.

Faster and faster and faster.

Your eyes begin to droop, nausea taking hold of your body.

Faster and faster and faster.

You only hear your breaths; every inhale and exhale—they're loud.

Faster and faster and faster.

Too fast.

Stop.

...

Click. Click. Click.

Footsteps. Not the clicks of the controls. You hear them clicking against tile floors from afar. From darkness, your eyes meet the color brown, shiny and polished—it’s wooden. The sound of the vast building’s acoustics hum in tune with the occasional chatter and echoing thump. You recognize the ambiance and it comforts your hasty thoughts as your brain tries to wreck itself in comprehending your current surroundings.

It’s one of those dreams again. The ones that kept you awake at night since the Sakaar incident, as if reliving the memories of another life. It isn’t yours but the realism to it makes it so complex that your brain cannot even comprehend the experiences during these dreams that occur.

To see, touch, hear, smell, and taste. Do dreams exceed the limit of disconnection and logic? Are dreams to be so immersive that it feels more like a memory, an echo of the past?

Through the turmoil of parsing between what’s real and what’s not, a tap on your shoulder hauls you back to reality. You turn to see Mobius, looking ridiculously exhilarated. Behind him lingers an amused Loki, hands tugging into the pockets of his jacket. The analyst says your name with a tone of equal exuberance to his manner.

“I thought I’d find you here. Do you always sleep at the archives?”

You snort, seizing yourself up as you wipe your face with your palm in hopes of feeling slightly more awake and alive than you were before. “No. Sometimes, I sleep at my desk too.”

Exhausted and sarcastic. Typical you.

Mobius rounds the table to sit beside you, gesturing Loki to his previous spot before he got up and ran away from you without any explanation. He shoots you a smile, lips pressed together, almost hesitant to sit across from you. You watch him through narrowed eyes as you address him with folded arms. “And here you are, back here again.”

Loki cannot fight the growing grin upon his lips, knowing all too well that you're referring to how he led you into an unnecessary chase down the corridors of the TVA for the sake of his entertainment. Well, it was not unnecessary. Things were turning out to be a bore and with the sudden thought of a proposition to help with his case, it doesn’t mean he has to drag out the fun of irritating the hell out of everyone else.

And you are not a bore.

“Loki! Where the hell do you think you're going?!"

You’re outright screaming at him but his long legs only stride faster than yours could handle, slumber still clinging to your face like a thick, waxen mask. He’s so quick, weaving through tangerine hallways, skidding across the tiled floors.

He saunters down the hall with quick feet but doesn’t sprint, clever enough not to draw any attention.

He ought to answer you. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he flashes you a cheeky smile. He swears he saw flames burning in your eyes for a moment.

As you wind another corner, you already see him making one last quick dart through the elevator doors that slide open as it dings unceremoniously. Through your wide-eyed gaze, you signal him with eyes that carry a warning.

“Don’t you dare close that fucking door.” you snarl, voice booming from down the hallway and so does the clicking of the heels of your Oxford shoes as you march towards him like you’re on the hunt for prey.

Loki jams his finger onto the button to close the doors, unable to wipe off his grin. “Don’t you trust me?” is all he says to you, sending you a wink through the closing gap of the elevator doors as he raises his palm to wave you farewell.

You decided Loki wasn’t worth the time he has already taken from your assigned paperwork. So, you returned to your desk with a trace of bitterness in your tongue while attempting to suppress the regret for actually feeling sorry for Loki. Only because you know how it is like to be alone.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. He makes you think he is capable of change, capable of compassion. He makes you think he cares from the way he looks at you with those eyes that flicker the spark of hope in you. This Loki is the same old Loki.

Well, maybe the one in Sakaar had a good chance of earning your trust. But that’s gone now.

You shift in your seat, elbows now leaning against the edge of the table. “And to answer your question, no. I do not trust you. And I never will.”

Famous last words of the variant turned analyst.

Nobody trusts you either.

Except for the grey-haired analyst with the obsession for jet skis and you never understood why. Maybe, it’s because you’re the only one who is willing to put up with his ramblings.

Mobius eyes you and Loki’s interaction as the two of you seem to fall into the rhythm of making things even more complex than it appears. It's all part of his grand plan. Mobius knows you well enough to know you are possibly enjoying Loki's company no matter how much he irritates you. And Loki, it's clear how he admires you and how you constantly surprise him every time he crosses paths with you.

“What would I ever do without your trust?” the God sneers, each articulation of every word wrapped in mockery paired with dramatically placing his hand to his heart. Your eye twitches, the spitfire of your personality ready to fire back with a probable nasty insult. Yet, Mobius places his hand on your shoulder, while the other outstretched towards Loki as if trying to keep the two of you apart.

“Okay, okay. No need to get all riled up now. We only just had a breakthrough in the case, and I’m not letting you kill each other just yet.”

Your anger seems to immediately wash away, replaced by curiosity. You blink at your colleague. “Breakthrough?”

“Yes, and it was surprisingly Loki’s theory. Now—”

“Why do I smell...sulfur?”

You cut his sentence short as a strong whiff of a reeked scent began to descend upon you, billowing in the air. You inhale deeply, brows furrowing in concentration and confusion. An overpowering scent of a decaying body, faint but strong enough to seem out of the ordinary. The archives never smell rotten, always floor polish. Mobius and Loki share a look. Mobius is the one to speak up, attempting to distract you from your sudden strong sense of smell. “Sulfur? What, like when there’s a demonic manifestation? I mean, we are in the presence of Loki—”

“You went to Pompeii, didn’t you?”

In all of the time he has spent with Mobius who had a constant laid-back and confident nature to him, he has never seen him so red in the face. As the situation unfolds, he wonders why Mobius has made it a point to hide that information with so much eagerness which now has proved to be useless. You’re not only intelligent but also quick—only in terms of the mind rather than your physical capabilities.

You can hardly run, but your brain outshines everyone else he has met in the TVA.

Mobius is now waiting for the imminent chaos and mayhem you’re about to bring. You’re going to call him insane like every other time he has suggested an out-of-the-ordinary idea. Causing a scene is one of your talents. He has his hand on your shoulder again.

“You hate Pompeii, Mobius. Why the hell would bring him—Wait.” Your eyes are wide and blinking. “You went to Pompeii. Alone. I know that from the look on your faces. Which means no reset charge...No Nexus event.” You pause, pursing your lips. Then, you avert your gaze to Loki who watches you curiously. “Are you suggesting the variant is hiding in apocalypses?”

Mobius’ laugh comes off like a puff of air. He pats you on the back like a proud uncle. “Back on the game, Agent!”

Loki is slightly impressed. Only slightly.

“Okay, you two stay here. I’ll go get the files. Great work, you two.” Mobius gestures to the both of you with an outstretched index finger, grin so wide as he scurries off. Mobius loves a good case, especially when there’s a breakthrough. And with you finally familiarizing yourself with working together with Loki, everything is finally starting to look up.

The two of you end up finding each other’s gaze and for the first time, you smile at him. It’s small but genuine.

“You know you could have told me.”

“I would have, but you don’t trust me, remember?”

You hum, raising a brow. “And running away was supposed to gain my trust?”

Loki chuckles, eyes flicking to the table. “I never said anything about gaining your trust.”

Your smile grows wider, and Loki decides how he prefers you like this—relaxed and amused.

He oddly sees his mother in you. It’s the way you look at him. Like you know him.

Right, you have met him. Once.

“What was I like? The one you met at Sakaar.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his sudden question that hasn’t got to do with insinuating you.

“The same as you—barely tolerable,” you say tightly, heaving a sharp exhale. ”Just…a lot sadder.”

You hadn’t mentioned how he willingly helped escape your execution because a part of you still believes it all to be a lie. The TVA has your complete fidelity but ever since the Sakaar incident, your trust in the way the system works has been swayed. After years of being trapped in your mind, the question of whether your capabilities in logic have been damaged due to loneliness still begs. Judge Renslayer believes in your incompetence but you believe she hides a secret about the Time Keepers.

The three beings, creator of the TVA, personally convicted you as innocent, allowing you to maintain your job. Nothing of this makes sense.

Maybe Judge Renslayer lost all her faith in you, her second-best analyst because your Nexus event relates to Loki. The one variant that has been causing havoc to the Sacred Timeline. And this Loki, the one that seems to be very curious about your place in the TVA and the Time Keepers, is no different than the others.

You find yourself feeling an uncalled sense of sadness that dwells in your chest at the thought of leaving the only friendship you secretly wished to have maintained back at Sakaar. Before you let yourself fall into the abyss of melancholic wishful thinking, you swiftly direct the conversation elsewhere.

"I’m sorry Mobius referred to you as the devil,” you say coyly. “You really aren’t.”

Loki, who seems to catch on with the sarcastic tone of your voice, leans farther into his seat. “Really?”

A smirk returns to your face. “You're worse than the devil." He snorts, noticing the vague hint of crimson growing upon your cheeks and how your eyes seem to crinkle a little more than usual.

He finds himself swallowing under your stare, fiddling his fingers in an attempt to calm his sudden erratic heartbeat. A stutter under your now kind gaze—no one ever stares at him with a smile. "You are not the first to say that."

There’s another pause; Loki’s face is set with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You feel a pang of guilt in your chest in remembrance of how you’re not the first to have treated him the way you did. He’s dangerous but, there’s no reason for animosity. Yet, it all boils down to the lives he has willingly taken. It doesn’t differentiate him from the rest of the TVA.

Mysterious variant.

The devil is always in the details.

Strangely, the work of the devil may prove to be useful in times of cul-de-sacs as an idea comes to mind. “I think...I think I know where you’re at right now.” Your voice is light, distracted by your now running thoughts. You’re on your feet, chair squeaking as you push it back. Your pen is in your grasp and you wave it in the air, reflecting the gears that turn at high speed within your brain.

Frankly, you’re not making any sense. Loki furrows his brows, slowly standing. “What do you mean? I’m right here—"

“No. The other one. The variant. And it has to do with gum.”

You’re still not making sense and it’s clear that in your eyes, he is invisible. You’re the only one in that frenzied mind of yours.

“What?”

You don’t answer him, feet quickly bringing you down the passageway along the vast rows of shelves that stretch along with the floor’s pristine balcony of white and the two of you are back to playing chase and run. Only this time, the roles are reversed.

Mission Haven Hills: not successful.

Really not successful. Far from successful.

You witnessed the doom of bombing the Sacred Timeline, firsthand. Employees scramble at the controls as you watch the screen that looms over the control room. What was once a single line, running along with time has now grown like a tree with fruits of chaos, caused by Nexus events scattered across time and places.

You wished the dust would settle and this was all simply a dream but you realize this was his plan all along.

Bomb the timeline. Distract the TVA.

There is one thing you know about Loki. He is moved by revenge and resentment.

As if you possess some sort of telepsychic powers, a part of you feels that danger itself is within the vicinity of the TVA. The variant is here, you just know it.

You hope Mobius is okay.

Scurrying down the winding hallways, past the hurried time hunters, and past the time theaters, you find yourself heading towards the golden doors of the Time Keepers’ chambers. In a time of uncertainty, your gut is your only source of guidance.

At the end of the hallway, you see bodies on the ground, nearly lifeless—time hunters, either unarmed or batons missing. You plucked one of the sizzling batons from the ground as you cautiously stepped around the laying bodies. You clutch it tightly to calm the blood rushing to your head, pounding along with your heartbeat as you take on the venture into the foyer of the grand chambers with secrets not wanting to be unveiled.

You round the corner, following the wooden panels for walls laid along the entrance. The glowing end of the baton within your grasp reflects off the black porcelain tiles beneath your careful feet. You hear voices, grunts, and shouting as if in combat.

Then, you see them. Loki in his variant jacket and a woman with locks of blonde and streaks of black. She adorns a headpiece of golden horns—one broken off.

Isn't Loki supposed to be at Haven Hills?

Recognizing the presence of another, the two turn to you, daggers still held to each other's throats. Loki eyes you with wide eyes, a silent plea whether to help or stand down, you’re unsure. Your gaze shifts to the woman once more who watches you with an equal resemblance to the other.

Then, it hits you. You recognize the dark emerald cloak she wears. You know exactly who she is. You just never thought it would be a she.

“You!” Your exclamation is bitter, and it’s directed towards the woman who seems to be strangely expectant of your remark as if she already knows who you are. She is L1190, a Loki variant. The one who slashed you with the TVA’s baton, scaring your left cheek. The one who hauled you through the time door and left you stranded in Sakaar for thousands of years.

You know exactly what she has done. She knows what she has done.

“You did this to me!” you gesture to the scar on your left cheek, eyes fixated solely on her, nearing the two with caution. You’re angry. Very angry. All pent-up rage begging to be set free.

Before Loki could even perceive the current situation he landed in between two women who very much want him dead, you’re already swinging the baton to her face with full force but she blocks it with her sword but slightly staggers in her step. You glare at her. She seems a little surprised. In an instant, you take a step back and go for another strike to her rib, but she blocks you again, sliding away and dodging your hit by a mere second. You growl out of frustration, seething through your teeth, and without hesitation, you strike again. The fight goes on—strike, block, strike, dodge. And with every blow, your intensity escalates, each a little harder than the one before. Loki stands there, watching, speechless and frozen.

You strike again, the baton crackling less than an inch away from her face but she dodges just in time, swinging her sword across your face. It grazes your cheek, now a gash of crimson on top of your scar, and with the sudden blow of searing pain, you lose your balance.

The variant spins into a kick that sweeps your legs out from under, knocking you hard onto the ground. The baton rolls out from your grip. Your hand flies to the gash, trickling with blood.

“Hey!”

The brawl comes to a halt. You seize yourself up from the ground, back and head aching, turning to see Judge Renslayer accompanied by two hunters, batons held up in defense position. You were about to reach for your own that was a stretch away when suddenly, you felt a hand grip you by the collar, hauling you to your knees. Her sword held to your neck.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her.”

“Go for it.”

Your eyes are wide in shock, all anger towards the variant now turning into this churning feeling of betrayal that resides within your abdomen. Judge Renslayer doesn’t look at you, focus fixated on the two variants—it’s like you’re not even there.

The three start to charge towards you and you involuntarily shut your eyes. Then, as quick as a rattlesnake, Loki grabs the tempad hung at her waist and sends the three of you falling through the ground.

That’s the thing about Loki. He gets inside your head, makes you think that for once, he may be worth not pruning. Now, with your back landing hard on top of him, all you could think about is wanting to strangle him to death.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

@kashasenpai

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki imagine #loki series #loki spoilers #sylvie #mobius #ravonna renslayer

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pigeonp0st · 5 years ago

Note

Oh you could write one where reader and Supergirl are fighting together against some supervillain and reader gets hurt and almost dies and Kara is freaking out because she can't lose her girlfriend and just... angst (please don't kill reader though, i'm begging you)

Kara Danvers x Reader #5

Words: 1,905

Warnings: Angst, Explosion not described in detail. Just an aftermath.

Notes:

MWHAHAHA! I technically didn’t listen to your plead...so i’m sorry? (Thank you for the request and sorry for all spelling mistakes)

——

They were kids.

You weren’t bulletproof like Kara, definitely not grenade proof, you knew that...but they were kids. Kids clutching onto their mom looking terrified. Terrified that their mom would get hurt, terrified that the three of them were going to die.

You’re terrified too. Lately as your life has gotten better with Kara, beautiful, caring Kara, you’ve been getting more scared everyday, scared that something was going to happen to ruin your happiness.

The fear is almost enough to paralyze you when you see the latest National City supervillain get ready to throw the grenade, but alas...when the man throws the grenade the stupid instinct to protect overtakes you and you jump into the air to catch it like a ball, before it can get to close to the family.

You’re more invincible than them, even if you’re not nearly as invincible as Kara...it’s time to test that theory, you think bitterly.

Turns out—when the grenade goes off and a piercing scream hits the air—you’re not that much more invincible than a regular human.

Kara, you think, tears running down your face, Kara, Kara, Kara. Kara. Everything hurts but all you can think about is Kara and whether or not she’s going to be okay fighting without you. Forever, possibly. Fighting without you forever, and just thinking about your death feels like ice water being poured over you until the cold sinks in and it’s just panic.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It takes moments before she’s by your side, moments that feel like a lifetime, she was slowed by the kryptonite she was fighting against and wasn’t able to get to you in time when the grenade went off but now she’s here, and she’s sobbing. Sobs that wrack her body, and you’re trying to sit up despite the ringing in your ear.

“Kara!” You yell, eyes wide, and you don’t want to be doing this to her, you want to pretend like you’re okay with this—you want to be strong for her—but you can’t. You can’t, because holy fuck. Fuck. “I can’t feel my legs, Kara. Baby, I can’t feel anything. I can’t...why can’t I move?”

Kara places a hand on your chest, and you can feel that, it hurts, “Alex,” she says into the comms, “it’s Y/N...she’s badly injured. I can’t bring her to the DEO, I can’t fly; the kryptonite is still in the air around us, and I can’t move her away from it either.”

You hear Kara’s panicked voice next to you, and when you focus you hear it in your own comms.

Alex’s voice crackles through immediately, and even she sounds scared, “how bad, Kara?”

“She says she can’t feel her legs, and she...she’s losing a lot of blood. She’s cold, too, and her breathing is labored,” Kara’s practically ranting now, her fingers shaking against your chest. “I’d put pressure on the wound but there’s a lot of blood and I don’t know—”

You turn your face away from Kara when her hand travels to your cheek, and you try to tune her out, because her face...it really says everything about your condition, and you don’t want to hear Kara talk about all of the ways you’re dying.

You catch the last thing Alex says and it fills you with dread that makes your bones feel even heavier, “keep her awake, Kara. There’s no telling if she’ll wake up again if she falls asleep now.”

Kara’s resulting sob rips your heart to shreds.

“I didn’t realize until I met you how much I don’t want to die,” you tell her after a moment filled with her cries. You’ve never felt so scared in your life (besides after Kara’s fight with Reign) “but I really don’t want to, Kara. I really don’t want to.”

“You won’t,” Kara says, trying to give you a reassuring smile, “you won’t because I need you to stay. What am I supposed to do without you?” She tries to laugh afterwards but it’s really just a choked sound, and you can hear the fear in her words.

The iron taste that was on your tongue felt like death, but now as you slowly start to taste it less, and as the smell of gasoline slowly slips away, you wonder if this is really a sign of death. The reapers signature.

“You’ll live.” You say, “you have to. There’s no other choice.” Your voice is filled with too much certainty for a dying woman, “It’ll be fine. You’ll get to eat the last popsicle in the fridge,” a humorless chuckle forces its way out of your throat, “I hid it. It’s under the frozen peas.”

You can tell by the look on Kara’s face what she’s thinking about. A half empty bed when she goes home alone to your shared apartment, your favorite mug sitting on the counter half full of cold coffee, your dishes still in her sink—your sink—your clothes in the washing machine, your…

“I can’t,” Kara whispers, her voice filled with the amount of sorrow only she can manage, “I can’t lose two of my worlds. I’m not strong enough.”

Kara Zor-El not being strong enough. It’s a humorous thought. You know Kara will fight, she’ll fight because it’s all she knows. She’ll find her reason. She won’t give up on the world, even if she gives up on herself for some time. It’s the one thing you need to be sure of right now.

“Yeah you are,” you mumble, trying to lift your shaky hand to cup her cheek. She grabs a hold of your hand and helps you to your destination. You try not to scream curses at the world at the sight of your blood on her pale cheek. “You, Kara Danvers, are an anomaly in the way you never let anything knock you down.”

“This is enough,” Kara promises, and it’s the last promise you’d ever want to hear from her, “you’re enough to ruin me.”

“Kara,” you whisper, hating the world so furiously in that moment for all it wants to take. “That’s the last thing I want to hear...I only ever want to build you up.”

“And you do,” Kara says, “but love really does both, doesn’t it? Sometimes it hurts as much as it heals.”

“That isn’t fair,” you whimper out, and Kara nods against your hand, closing her eyes and trying not to breathe in the smell of your blood.

Moments later Kara opens her eyes in a panic after realizing that you haven’t spoken, only to see you trying to blink your eyes awake. She squeezes your hand repeatedly, trying to get your attention. “Y/N, it’s not time.” She tells you desperately, “it’s not time.”

One of her tears fall against your cheek, causing you to pout. “Stop crying,” you slur, delirious from the blood loss, “I resent it when you cry because of me.”

Kara shakes her head, only crying harder.

You smile up at her sadly, “I'm sorry i’m dying.” And you mean it.

“Stop saying that,” Kara pleads, like it’s breaking her, “stop.”

You wish you could give Kara what she wants but your eyelids are getting heavier and heavier and you don’t think you have much time. “Just tell Alex to name a kid after me, or at least tell her to name a fish after me.”

Kara’s shaking her head and shaking your arm, trying to get you to open your eyes again, “Y/N! Hey! Stop, come on, baby, just open your eyes…”

You try, you really do, you’ve never tried so hard to listen before, and it works for a moment, just for a second you manage to open your eyes, much to Kara’s relief, and that’s when you finally notice a crowd of people and a slumped alien (the man you two were fighting) a little ways behind you and Kara. When did Kara do that to him? When did the people come?

It’s when you see Alex though, rushing out of a black van, that you feel some sort of relief. Alex will protect Kara when you’re gone. You’re sure of it.

—

“Wake up! Wake up,” Kara sobs, “Alex, Alex—please, she’s not—”

—

“She died, Kara, in the van, we managed to bring her back...but things are looking uncertain right now. For now, the best thing you can do is look after yourself”

Kara’s glowing red eyes snap up from the floor towards Alex. Her powers have been going haywire since they arrived at the DEO. “Save her,” Kara pleads, voice hoarse from crying. “Please.”

—

It’s late at night after Kara hears your heart stop (the second time) that she gets placed in kryptonite handcuffs.

Alex doesn’t want to do it but Kara isn’t in control of her powers anymore, and she almost seriously hurt someone. Multiple times.

Kara doesn’t leave your side after they get your heart going again, she can’t hear your heart with the kryptonite on so the only thing she can take comfort in is the beeping of your heart monitor.

—

You wake up two weeks after your accident.

Kara’s asleep next to you when you do.

You’re confused and thirsty so it takes you several long moments for you to remember what happened, and once you do you’re sobbing hard, crying loud enough to startle awake a sleeping Kara.

She freezes when she sees you, you’re curled up in the hospital bed and shaking with your relief and the leftover fear, and she’s watching you like she doesn’t know what to do now that you’re awake.

She’s been praying for this moment, imagining it, waiting for it day after day, minute after minute, second after second, but now that it’s actually happened she’s paralyzed with her overwhelming emotions.

“Y/N?” Kara stutters, eyes filling with her own tears of relief.

You laugh at Kara’s face, loud and completely joyful, and suddenly she’s sobbing too, grinning all the while, because you’re here—finally— you’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, and you’re laughing, and the world is finally okay again too.

“Damn, weren’t we dramatic?” You smirk, paying no mind to the tears running down your or her face.

Kara laughs, pulling you into a careful hug (she got her handcuffs taken off only a day ago). “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you whisper back, tightening your hold on Kara as much as you can and simply breathing her in. Breathing life in.

“I feel like i’m dreaming,” Kara says after a while, voice trembling. You feel like you're dead...and like you're in heaven. Is this heaven?

“You aren’t,” you reassure Kara anyways.

She nods against your shoulder, shaking even harder than you were. “Are you okay?” You ask worriedly.

“you’re the one who had to go and die two times.”

“Nearly three times,” Alex says from the doorway.

You notice Kara tense and shift in front of you until she realizes it’s just Alex, and you think that’ll probably be something you two will have to talk about, but for now you roll your eyes at Alex and say, much to both Kara’s and her amusement; “the only reason you tried so hard to save me is because you didn’t want to name your kid after me, isn’t it?”

Alex’s shrug and “maybe” gets a glare from Kara and a smirk from you.

#kara danvers x reader #supergirl x reader #supergirl imagine #kara danvers imagine #kara zor el x reader #kara zor el imagine #fem reader #supergirl #kara danvers #kara zor el #alex danvers #dc x reader #kara x reader

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

Note

I can't stress enough 'wows' in tve way you write along with the fact that it's you first few posts (i think? Pls correct me) can you do luci mammon and satan with a reader who takes naps bc of overthinking? They just tug their sleeves and shot them a tired look, while looking down shying away. Also, have a nice day and take the time to be yourself!

Aw thanks fam! I am fairly new to posting my works, I tried twice before this with two different writing blogs but I deleted them both bc I felt discouraged. I’m older now and I feel a lot better about my writing, so third time the charm and all that lol! I’m so glad you like my writing! I know I need some work on grammar and expanding my vocabulary.

This was a super cute prompt ;.; I hope I did it justice!

Lucifer

He is a mix of jealous and pissed. He wishes he could fall asleep so easily when he gets inundated with too many things at once. But also- just don’t do that? Where were your manners?

He starts noticing your little peculiarity in class. Specifically that you tend to nod off in advance alchemy and rune scripting. You were being so studious, jotting down notes, ask great questions. Next thing he knows you're out like a light.

He is shocked for a moment before he will wake you up. Your wide doe-eyed frown does nothing to him. JK his hearts clench at your wounded look.

He makes the other brothers report to him about your behavior and odd sleep habit. Were you ill? Was this just something humans did? Devils, was Belphie rubbing off on you?

They all say the same thing. One moment you are working hard or talking to them about a topic you are passionate about, and the next you are yawning hard enough to pop your jaw and shyly asking to lay down.

Well-he can’t have that.

If you are going to fall asleep around anyone it’s going to be him.

He sets up remedial lessons with you after dinner to make up for the work slept through. You sit by him at his long ornate desk while he tutors you on what you missed.

You weren't having any problems, you even finished a few pages. He is proud and then-

“I can almost hear those gears slowing my dear.” Lucifer interrupts himself mid-explanation of Zosimos of Panopolis and Maria the Prophetess's theories of alchemy in human medicine.

You jerk awake and turn to him blinking owlishly. "Yeah, I just need to lay down." You admit.

Lucifer eyes you critically. This was sudden, were you ill? You had been fine moments ago, bright-eyed and enthusiastic. He cups your face, turning it from side to side. "So suddenly? We haven't even discussed the properties of mercury yet." You hum letting your eyes droop. He was always so warm.

"Hour nap break? Please?" His stern gaze softens at how your nose scrunches up cutely as you yawn.

“Very well.” He relents letting you slick over to his couch. You flop over face first with a grunt of satisfaction. You toss and turn for a while, moving his pillows around unsatisfied.

“Luci-” You call in defeat. He ignores you at first. If you wanted to nap fine, he would get some work done in the meantime. “Luci~” You say again. You could see his brow twitching. “Lu-”

“My dear,” He shoots you a withering look. “You are treading a thin line. If you have the energy to call for me you have the energy to study.” You say nothing at his brisk tone, instead of opening your arms to him to join you. “You tempt me.” He purrs hiding his smile behind his paperwork.

“Learned from the best.” Lucifer shakes his head laughing at your smug reply. He glances over you to his grandfather clock. Hmmm-perhaps he could spare a few minutes. He rises elegantly discarding his tie and waistcoat to his abandoned chair. Running a hand through his hair he snorts at your little whistle.

“Move.” He commands. You shake your head patting your belly. “I will crush you.” He laughs but lays over you regardless.

“Good-you’re warm.” You say muffled in his shirt. Wrapping your arms around his middle you drift off. Lucifer holds you close, running a still gloved hand up and down your side. Perhaps he should bring out some more complex topics next time. If this was the outcome-

Mammon

He noticed you get drowsy before in class. Your cute little head jerks as you nod off, hands rubbing at your face as you fight to stay awake before giving in to the need to sleep. It was adorable- not that he was watching you because of that! He was just doing his job of looking out for you

Ye-that was all.

Honestly, he thought you were just like him. He never cared for the books being forced on him in class. Boring useless crap in his opinion. He much rather sleep through a lecture on stats too.

Now books on photography? That's where it's at. He has a legitimate passion for it.

He likes being behind the camera just as much as he likes being in front of it. Though he doesn't snap photos often.

He doesn't need more beratement from his brothers than he already gets. Sides, he just feels like they would look down at this like everything else he does.

He'll share his hobby with you though. You at least seem interested in it. He'll show you his collection of vintage to high-tech cameras and talk your ear off about the makes, models, and features.

You nod along and ask questions from time to time, smiling along with Mammon while he prattles on about color theory next to you on the floor.

He was just getting to Auguste Lumiére when he feels a gentle bump on his shoulder.

"O-oi!" Mammon starts, shaking his shoulder to rouse you. You look up at him, blinking the sleep from your eyes. "Was...was I that boring?" He deflates a little, all previous excitement gone in a flash. You had seemed so interested...

"What? Oh, no. No Mammon I'm sorry. It's really all fascinating," You grab for his sleeve so he couldn't run away. "It was just a lot of information all at once. I just got a bit overwhelmed."

"So you fall asleep?" He raises a brow not believing you for a second. Who falls asleep when something is interesting? He'll admit he's fallen asleep while listening to Levi talk about a new anime or Asmo with a make-up release. But that's because it had been boring. "Is that like a human thing?"

You shrug snuggling closer. "I don't know- but it's a me thing. Give me five? I'd love to hear you talk more about your collection, promise."

Mammon glows scarlet at your words. "Of course you do!" He puffs out his chest excitedly. “I got great taste.” You nod into his shirt before drifting off again. He tilts his head slightly to look at you chuckling internally when your breathing and heartbeat slow down. Damn, out in seconds. Well, better get comfortable.

Uncrossing his long legs he picks up the camera he had been showing you. The old Polaroid lens reflects his face back at him. He remembered the day Land had debuted this marvel of engineering. He just had had to get his hands on one. It was useless now, he had much better quality cameras than this old thing, but he remembered you reminiscing about your human friends and their portable camera. Would you take some pictures with him too? He would take one now, but the sound of the flash would definitely wake you up.

He fiddles with it for a few more minutes, opening and closing the film canister and checking for any parts that needed fixing as he waits. You stir at his side a few minutes later with a little mew of satisfaction. Mammon hears your joints creak and pop as you stretch. "Morning." He says sarcastically, earning himself a light punch to his shoulder. "Ready to continue?"

You nod eagerly, perky and aware. At least for the moment.

Satan

He didn't really notice at first the pattern of your behavior.

You would come over for book club. Which was really just him reading his current novel and you picking something at random to gain a little random knowledge.

You would find a comfortable position on his bed, curl up nice and small and read. Then after a bit yawn and start to snooze.

He first thought it was the atmosphere of his room. It was quiet, warm, and the sound of flickering candles and the rustle of paper sometimes caused him to doze too.

But when it starts happening outside of class he notices.

Hmmm….this is new.

He looks it up in his human anatomy books and finds nothing.

He's not particularly worried about you per se. You always bounce back quickly after a quick snooze.

Then you start dozing when he is talking… >:(

Like his brother/dad he is a little miffed at first but then your behavior reminds him a cat and he loves you 10x harder now

Satan stops in his pacing of the back gardens. His book of poetry hanging limply in his hand. He had been reciting some of the most fascinating lines of work from Lord Byron's later works and wanted a human's perspective. He had thought you were interested. You never complained before when he asked you out here. Perhaps you were just being polite all those times before. Anything to soothe wrath. He snaps his book shut sharply, take some perverse satisfaction in the way you start out of your light sleep at the noise.

"Why'd you stop?" You ask wiping at your face.

"No point talking to someone that doesn't wish to listen." He snaps tersely.

"Oh-Satan, no I was listening. It...it just got to be so much so fast." You flush. “You had some great points going, I just needed a minute.” He watches your eyes grow heavy again, and it dawns on him.

"Do you just sleep when overwhelmed?" He asks incredulously. In all his years with humans, this was new. You shrug making grabby hands for him to move closer. He scoffs but moves into your space. You grab at the hem of his shirt and pull him down to sit next to you. He goes willingly getting comfortable by your side. You eye his lap longingly, hands clutching around his coat sleeve. “Fine-” He rolls his eyes. “Come here you odd thing.” You smile in triumph and crawl into his lap. Once settled you nuzzle into his warm chest.

“Wake me up in ten? I want to hear more about your conversations with Byron.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” He kisses the top of your forehead, opening his book to read again with one hand. You hum at his soft kiss, returning it sleepily with one of your own before passing out again. Ten minutes go by in an instant and Satan looks down at your peaceful face. He smiles to himself, perhaps he’ll let you sleep for a little while longer. You’d need it for his next point.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me prompts #cute!

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harryhandstan · 5 years ago

Text

gotta get better

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This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry and @bopbopstyles for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :)

final word count: 7.1k

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them, "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #so happy this is finally done and being posted!#soooooo many times I almost just deleted it bc I didn't know how to feel about it #but anyway hope y'all enjoy!

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archived-mononokeland · 4 years ago

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ask : Yes!! show us any drawings you have. Would love to see any fan art. Do you still open your writing request? If so I want to request headcanon of the brothers reaction when they found mc fainted and sick because this mc is rather hard working and pushover one.

Currently, I have no Obey Me fanart, but I am working on an Asmo piece so I hope I get finished with that!

And yes, my requests are open until I make an announcement that I’ve closed it. Sorry I was late to do this though! I kind of get too carried away and so each character is very lengthy ;;

The brothers’ reactions to finding you fainting and sick from over-working:

[] —— lucifer —— []

Lucifer is very surprised and concerned when he finds you passed out in one of the House’s hallway one afternoon with a temperature hotter than usual.

He picks you up bridal style and carries you to your room and sets you down on the bed.

He notices that you have dark circles under your eyes, more prominent than Belphegor’s occasional ones.

He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water, making sure that no one sees him.

Just as he was about to leave with a note telling you to text him when you wake up, your eyes open groggily.

Once he let’s you get a grip, he asks you on what made you pass out like that.

Diavolo wouldn’t like to hear that the exchange student fainting like that, surely. But he was very concerned himself.

After you explained that it may or may not be because of the work and tasks, Lucifer felt guilty. When he thinks about it, each favor he’s asked of you, you never really did decline.

He made a note to lessen your work from now one, and that you can tell him if it’s too much for you, “Because it’d be quite the trouble if this happens again, no?”

He insists that you shouldn’t go to school and take a break because, “seeing the exchange student on less than healthy conditions wouldn’t look well.”

But of course it’s more than that, and you knew.

And he does try to take care of you, now doing his paper work in your room on your desk and looking after you.

[] —— mammon —— []

Poor boy, when you collapsed in his arms, hotter than usual, just as you opened the door for him, his first reaction is panic.

He freaks out for a good five minutes before setting you down on the bed.

He thinks you’re going to die, so he just goes out bawling for a while.

Until you wake up, very confounded to see a crying Mammon by your side.

He clings to you and rambles at lightning speed once he found that you actually weren’t dead, leaving you more dumbfounded than ever.

“Wait, Mammon, s-slow down—”

Of course he eventually does, followed by a little tangent on how, “the Great Mammon d-doesn’t care for a little human like you, no, not at all!”

You ignored all that and asked him to explain.

Once you heard his story, you admitted that maybe you’ve been overworking a bit, and that’s why you’ve declined on hanging out with him—or anyone for that matter—and why you’ve passed out.

It took a few minutes for Mammon to finally work it all out, which at that point he huffs and begins to ramble about how stupid Lucifer’s giving you too much work.

You managed to calm him down before he goes and yells at his face on your behalf, and convinces him to help nurse you back to good health.

Which he agreed in less than a second, all red and stuttering.

And while you were sick, he’d go get you anything! Just ask for it and give him a few minutes and he’ll bring it back to you.

And he’s now glued by your side, spending the night with you. He’d even begin making excuses that you were still sick so you two can be around each other.

He also won’t let anyone else come close, cause he was your first, who needs the others to take care of you!?

But oh, when you’re halfway through the healing process, he will drag you to Lucifer to complain that he’d putting too much on the human without you even managing to slip in anything.

In the end, it is thanks to this idiot demon that you were now working less than before.

[] —— leviathan —— []

When Leviathan found you just fainting mid-game while you two were hanging out, he had negative ideas on what to do!

He paused the game and just put you in his bathtub bed, making sure that there was enough pillows at the bottom so that it’s comfortable.

He sees the bags under your eyes and came up with a possibility that you passed out from tiredness. After all, one-too-many late nighters also gave him that experience.

He’d just sit there by the side of the tub awkwardly, not sure what to do.

When you finally did wake up, he’d just look at you with unspoken panic while you get a grip on reality first.

Seeing you wince in pain was also adding to the panic in his mind, so he asks you how you’re doing.

You confessed you had a headache and your throat was dry, so Levi went and got you one of his many bottles of water from his supply of ‘being a shut-in’.

He asked you if you’ve bee sleeping well, to which you answered that you may or may not have been swamped with tasks and work recently.

You can hear him mutter under his breath something about your stupid tasks and why you can’t just chill and play games.

But he quickly snaps back and decides a break would be good for you.

He sets up a comfy place and just have you lie there. Maybe if he finds you awake he’ll let you borrow some of his games. He’ll probably convince you to play something relaxing like the new Animal Crossing.

If you’re in need of food or drinks, Levi will just give you some of his stock of snacks and drinks.

[] —— satan —— []

Satan’s very surprised to find you fainting whilst you were looking for some books in his room.

He sets you down on his bed and immediately looks through his books on human health. After all, something about the circles under your eyes were telling of what you may have.

He reaches the conclusion of lack of sleep and stress, something along those lines.

Uh-oh, detective time! He might gather the information more of why you weren’t getting enough sleep. You did come to his room in hopes to find books of Devildom history and Devildom laws. And sometimes he would overhear you complaining a bit of your tasks and schoolwork, and you did seem to be doing most of Lucifer’s cooking duties…

In the meantime, he prepares a glass of water for you, and a pot of tea for the both of you.

When you wake up, he asks how you’re feeling, and suggests that you take a drink.

Once you’ve finally realized what happened, he finally tells you his theory and whether he was right or wrong.

You nod. He asks if it’s something about Lucifer giving you too much work. Another nod.

That answer alone earns a sigh from him. He tells you to go to sleep and get some rest.

And once you do, he makes sure you’re asleep and goes to confront Lucifer about it.

You stay in his room mostly, the smell of books comfort you. And most of the time, if you’re in trouble of getting to sleep, or just because either of you feel like it, Satan will read you a story with a nice cup of tea.

[] —— asmodeus —— []

Seeing you passed out in front of his door isn’t a scene that he imagined. Picking you up bridal style, he decides to set you on his bed.

The dark bags under your eyes were noticed in a second upon laying his eyes on you. That enough is concerning to him. After all, sleep is crucial to your skin!

He would’ve cuddled next to you, but he needed your consent.

… However, he isn’t that much knowledgeable of how to treat a human like this.

He will probably set up some light fragrance candles for when you wake up.

And also a glass of water, cause hydration is also important.

And when you do, the first thing he does is to scold you for not taking care of yourself.

“Sleep is important for your skin! You can’t be walking around with dry skin, can you?”

You chuckle and explained to him that yeah, you might’ve been too busy with work and school to get enough sleep.

He will have a long talk with you on how to take care of your skin, and yourself in general for a long time, until you promise him that you would.

Other than things related to beauty and looks though, he doesn’t know much about the human body. So if you need something, you have to tell him.

And he will get it for you.

He’ll try all he can to get you back to health.

If you don’t have anything contagious, maybe like a headache, he could cuddle with you to try and soothe it.

He might’ve took a picture of your while asleep. Who could blame him, you’re just too cute!

Once you’re back to your feet though, he will drag you to a salon to pamper yourself properly before you can get to work.

[] —— beelzebub —— []

It happened during Beelzebub’s late night fridge raids. You came into the kitchen to get a glass of water, then just… fainted.

The sheer amount of shock and concern was enough to get him to stop eating and check on your body. Then, he’ll bring you to his room and lay you down on his bed.

Of course, his stomach couldn’t survive for long so he’d grab as many snacks as he could and emptied the fridge, then came back to check on you.

When you woke up, Beel hurried to your side, relieved that you weren’t actually dying or anything.

He asks if you were okay, and you just answered that perhaps you were tired.

The bags under your eyes were no stranger. After all, with Belphegor as his twin, sometimes he’d see them on him.

He pressed a bit further, and that alone was enough for you to tell him that you were tired from working too hard. And the fact of how humans are such fragile creatures dawned upon Beel again.

It took him a while to convince that it wasn’t something that Beelzebub could protect you from with his strength, and that all you needed was sleep.

He’ll let you sleep on his bed as long as you’d like. He’d try to position the pillows so that it would be as comfortable as possible.

And it seems that each time his hands come near you, they’re very gentle. Like he’s afraid that too much pressure might break your bones.

He will try to make soup to help you. Try. There’s no guarantee that he might eat half of the ingredients during the process.

Similar to drinks and food that he brings. Probably about half of what was supposed to be your portion gets fed to Beel.

You promised him that you won’t get this much tired from overworking again.

From then on, you can find him sending texts through your D.D.D., making sure you weren’t overworking again.

[] —— belphegor —— []

He found you in the planetarium with a mind that seems to be half-working, your eyelids drowsing to sleep every few minutes.

And sure enough, just as he arrived to get to his usual napping spot, you passed out.

He took a look of your face. It was an easy assumption for him to make that you didn’t sleep as long as you should’ve.

And so he let you. He would’ve put you in either your or his room but… that was too much energy. So he used the pillow he had all the time and shared it.

Sleeping with you under the stars were a surprisingly elating experience for him. Who knew a human’s presence could do such a thing.

He’d soon follow you in sleeping until you woke up.

In the end, it’d probably you dragging him to your room, his room, or the attic for a more comfortable space to sleep in.

In the matters of food and drinks, Belphegor would probably rely on Beel more, as he’s too lazy to leave your side.

Sleep is the best medicine, so he’ll most likely just convince you to stay in bed and sleep as long as you’d like.

He’d probably slip in with you. To which cuddles would most likely proceed next.

A bit sad once you’re back to your usual self, now that he can’t just spend his day sleeping next to you.

However he will make sure that you aren’t overworking yourself again.

And he will tell Lucifer of your problems via text.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #shall we date #obey me scenario #obey me headcannons

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morimakesfanart · 4 years ago

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Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

#magi prophet fanfic #magi fanfiction #magi fanfic #sinbad magi #king sinbad #magi sinbad

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lovee-infected · 5 years ago

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Macaroon anon I love you and how can I resist writing for such a great idea? I really wanted this piece to take place as Ciel was stuck in twst in my previous au but since I mentioned dorm leaders there it couldn't be really done...Rip

A twisted path ✨

~ Black butler x twisted wonderland ~

Feat : Mey-Rin , Bard & Finnian

Poor trio stay away in shock of not only his unexpectedly loud shout but also...eh...his appearance . Are they wrong or does this guy really look similar to master Ciel...?

Coming conscious still with his eyes closed , he hears some sounds around him:" He dead ?-""No I don't think he is, his chest is still moving" "Anyway what's this body doing hear at Phantomhive's mansion? If he's been stabbed or something it's going to be troublesome," "Na I guess this dude's just been really drunk y'all. Also...what's with the clothes ? Could it be that he's somewhat of an actor from nearby theaters ?" "Aye? Since when are the designs this messed up...- I guess we'd better get rid of it before mister Sebastian returns, maybe burry hi-"

Riddle freaks out as he hears this idiots wanting to burry him alive and immediately wakes up screaming at them to stay away.

Riddle on the other hand gazes upon what he just faced: a red haired haired maiden wearing a pair of glasses, a yellow haired boy with green pupils and a rather buff man with a toothpick in his mouth staring at him. " Ah- He a'live ! Man ya gotcha be more careful with drinking," the buff man chuckles. Riddle suddenly feels highly unsafe: Who are these people? And where am I? He's read NRC's maps enough to know that such a building is surely not a part of it , come along it's weird people. Was he kidnapped while asleep...?He pulls up his staff and starts threatening them with it , wanting them to immediately introduce themselves and explain what he was doing here- wherever it was-

Finnian tries to calm him down with a soft smile and a friendly attitude, but Riddle is strong at his point: He wants answers.

When he sees them all trying to calm him down with no explanations he gets mad : "OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

...What ? Wait-maybe try again:"Off with your-Heads!" ...Why isn't it working? Riddle stays still, the magic collars have to be around their neck but- they are not...?? There must've been a mistake: " Off with your heads - Off with your HEADS - OFF WITH YOUR HEADS DAMN IT-"

Mey-Rin, Finnian and Bard stare at their angry guest shouting nonsense and getting as red as a tomato, what is wrong with this guy..?

Riddle is furious and confused , what's the matter ? Is his magic blocked the same as that time Beans day? He doesn't know , and he doesn't like it

Riddle starts shouting at them asking what they've done to his magic and the poor guys just go...Huh ? Riddle keeps on getting redder and redder as if he's about to explode . He starts threatening them from reporting them to the head master to giving them to the official policies for kidnapping and neglecting his picture

Finnian then decides that maybe it's better to leave him to mister Sebastian and so : Picking up a huge branch and a striking it to his head , savage

Riddle passes out immediately whoops- maybe Finnian should have been softer-

They stay there gazing upon their... masterpiece . Finnian might have even broken his skull - Good god , what should they do now ? They must wait until mister Sebastian arrives ; But where is he now ?

Feat : Suma & Agni

"Pssssssst- Agniii...I guess he finally woke u-" " M- my prince , y-you sure that it was a good idea too bring a total stranger out of nowhere to our home ? I'd greatly appreciate it if you be more ca-"

Argh...what is with all noises around him ? He's told Ruggie a million times not to let anyone in his room whole he's taking a nap even if it's gonna be the grim reaper ; what are these brats doing here?

Leona rambles under lips and with a push he's awake : " Oi , you'd better know that I don't like having my naps ruined,"

Suma gasps at the sight of him being finally awake and tries to offer his unwanted guest a welcome hug which Leona rejects- Poor Suma

Leona isn't yet realizing what actually is going on , from not knowing that this isn't his room to the fact that he's now at more than 100 years ago in a whole different world ; ironic

Leona orders them to take this annoying conversation out of his room just to face Agni's locked expression : "Your room...?"

Taking a better look , Leona finally gets that this probably isn't his room and these people surely aren't from NRC

Sounds get echoed through his brain and he feels a small ache inside it . He rubs his head ...why does everything feel so strange ? Something is different ... could it be that he's still sleepy or..? Wait a second - Why can't he shake his tail ?

He immediately looks back to see if he's sit on his own tail but faces a terrifying scene : There is no tail . Is it cut off ????

and a newer fact flashes his brain : There are no ears either . But then how can he still here the sounds ? "P-please don't be", he begs . His hands shake as he brings them up to touch both sides of his head ; wishing not to find what he is looking for . And they are ! Human ears !A mild shiver is sent down his neck and he rushes to the mirror on the other side of the room just to face this nightmare with his own two eyes

He stares at the mirror with his eyes wide open and mouth as if he is going to shout . No...

Oh...nevermind . He has to calm down ; it's nothing but another fancy dream . He'll soon wake up and these will be all gone . Leona tries closing his eyes and cursing , wanting to wake up to sanity when he opens them again

Surprise : Nothing's changes . Two crappy brats still staring at him . Agni is now a bit suspicious but Suma on the other hand is really motivated : " Ahh~! Sorry if it's strange to sleep in the streets and wake up in bed- I just saw you laying there in a death like slumber and couldn't help but to bring you along ! Also , haven't we met before ? I'm pretty sure that I've seen your face somewhere before... Don't you happen to be from India ? "

Agni is really stressed out and keeps warning the young boy : " My prince ! He's now all conscious and fine , then I'd lead him out of he-"

"Prince , huh ?" Leona wasn't ever really interested in visiting ally kingdoms back at his home town so he barely got to meet any other princes , hm but to think that this cherishing child is actually a prince...man , the world has really changed

But he has no time for such games now , he has to find Ruggie or anyone else who may lead him out this insanity and return him his ears and tail

He asks for where he is - else than Suma's mansion - and the answer doesn't really do any help either . Where on the bloody hell is London ? And if these people found him laying in the streets when the heck did he even get here ? Well , doesn't really matter now , but where is NRC ?

Suma and Agni probably don't know where NRC is and Dire Crowley ? Suma wonders if this guy was the one who fooled him to buy a sick elephant which died a week after in india , but Agni is sure that neither him nor his prince have ever met a single soul named this

Leona is getting more and more pissed off wasting time chatting with these idiots so he takes his way out , ignoring Suma's begs for him to stay for lunch at least

He freezes just at the second he opens the exit doors and gazes upon the streets : Horses? carriages ? 19th century's clothing ? How long have these people been stuck in this lack of technology?

He feels like he now really needs to make a phone call but searching his pockets he finds both of them empty...those brats stole my-

He was close to getting hit by a carriage when someone shouts at him with a : " OUT OF WAY YOU SON OF A-"

He is now ready to get in a fight but a sound cuts him off : " LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!" , this extremely annoying sound...what the heck is he doing here and : WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL HAS HE DONE NOW !!!????

Feat : Lau & Ran-Mao

Business tip nu 1 : Always keep calm , even if you end up losing all your magic powers in the surface without the possibility of returning to your original form or knowing where in the damn world you are : K-e-e-p-c-a-l-m

Thankfully , Azul's dope nature avoids him from going crazy during his stay in this...non-Twisted wonderland world

He had heard of theories explaining the possibility of other world's existence ; countless ones indeed . But to end up in one of them without any preparations ? He wasn't planning on that

Well nevermind , that cannot be helped now . let's look for a better way

Lack of facility , cultural deprivation and severe corruption ; is this how humans are ? No wonder the sea witch called them Poor unfortunate souls...

Enough with these people , he must now ignore all other disadvantages and take a look into beneficial sides of it...If he has ended up here , in this world and into this spot of the city there must be something linked to magic nearby ; even if he's surrounded by all these foolish people who haven't ever even seen real magic by their own eyes

Just as he's looking around , something catches his attention : a strange smell . Thanks to his family he's pretty good at following smells to their source and knowing what exactly they are : it's the pungent smell of Opium

He follows the smoke to its source and arrives to a bunch of stares going underground . A board is place next to the stares with something written on it : Opium Den

Azul isn't one to believe in superstitions but he is sometimes interested to take ambitious steps ; life sometimes brings you worthy surprises

Entering the shop , someone slightly grabs his arm . He turns his head to face a young, beautiful lady pulling his sleeve softly , eyes empty of any emotions . Without saying a word , Ran-Mao grabs his hat and coat and Azul thanks her , seems like he took the right path

His vision got a bit blurred as must of the air is filled with smoke , not that he isn't used to such atmospheres

" Why welcome to my place , sir . How may we service you today~ ? " a sound says from other side of the room . Azul turns back to face the source of all these smoke holding that young lady from before close , could she be her right arm woman or something ? She seems pretty obedient for one , which is nice

Azul introduces himself and takes a seat . He isn't going to get to his main point at the very first seconds ; he needs to make sure that he's come to the right person . He introduces himself as a businessman from a far away city , came to explore more of business tactics here in London . He offers Lau a small chat toward that , wanting him to give him more information on business if possible and return , he'd be given similar information about Azul's home town

While being considerably great at it , Lau isn't really interested in wasting time talking about business , all he ever cares in some sort of entertainment in whatever he does . Still , he agrees of playing this fake role for a short time . Although he knows that Azul isn't here for this either...

A few minutes pass and they both know that Azul doesn't really care to know how much a pork costs and either is Lau , so takes a serious step himself : " I see you're a man of business , Mr . Azul . I wonder what I you may be able to offer me in return ," Azul clarifies that he would get interesting information if he gives Azul good ones ; everything is clear and equal . "Then , I'm afraid that I've got not much to offer ," Lau sighs , but a small smirks appears of his lips : "But what would you say about some tea ? And maybe a small talk ? "

Lau isn't like others out there and that's pretty recognizable to Azul , but it doesn't make him the right person to trust either . He is continuing this conversation in hope of Lau leading him to the right person he is looking for , someone worthy of a greater contract . Lau lets out a sad sigh feeling sorry that he can't do much help , but he knows that who may do : A well-known friend , serving years working as a right arm man . Talented , well cultured , big on all issues including business : "I'm sure that you'll like him ,"

Well perhaps this thing's starting to work out for him : " Then by all means , lead me to this mister you speak of , Mr. Lau~" "With all pleasure . Bring him his coat and hat , sister " , Lau orders . Pleasure is always his first priority , but nothing would ever break rules of a contract ; He gives , he receives . Even taking him to Sebastian is counted but , he's already thought of that . This young man seems quite entertaining and when he first stepped into his shop Lau was expecting him , a spacial guest

Lau doesn't really care about superstitions , but still enjoys his ambitious steps . This guy had came to him just as expected and now , something about him tells Lau that getting him to Sebastian will bring him as well newer faces to meet...what an entertaining day it would be

Feat : Tanaka

Jamil is... about to lose his mind . Caught in a whole other world without a meaningful explanation of how he ended up here or why . Magic doesn't work and there is no certain way to scape this situation and make a return to NRC . But the worst thing about it remained certain : He is caught with Kalim

Why in the bloody hell does he always have to be hooked up with Kalim ? Parents forced him into it at childhood , headmaster orders to it at school and now , the world suddenly decides to abandon him together with Kalim ? If it's joke , that's a pretty lame one . Why does he have to live in the shadows of Kalim being the unworthy dorm leader ?

Now lost in the streets , not knowing where to go or who to contact , what a wonderful way to start a day

Kalim isn't liking it at all : dirty streets , loud and short tempered people , street fight and drunk men everywhere , the smell of death filling the air , this is horrible . Kalim is well aware of poverty and deprivation lasting for so long and even remaining until the very present day , but traveling back in time and space to face one of the most terrifying levels of it just isn't his thing . He feels sorry and odd at the same time : Is this how life behind of the walls of his royal castle looked like ? He wishes he could help it . He probably could if he was any linked to NRC right now

He keeps on telling Jamil how poor they look and wonder if there is a way to help...The world Kalim knows has elegant and colorful nights and days but this world...was all caught in a dead gray mist

Jamil doesn't say a word because he doesn't want to listen , Kalim can keep on daydreaming but he has to find a way back a.s.a.p . They can't leave Scarabia just on their own and everyone (including Kalim's Dad) must be really stressed out by now . He continues to look , but there isn't really anything helpful around them . People yelling at each other and smoking the shit out of themselves . Young ladies flirting as young men offer them a carriage ride and tourists staring at each and every building like they hadn't ever seen a place to live inside as if they've been living in a cave so far , huh

Jamil can no longer take it next to Kalim and eventually goes feral : " WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP !!?" He has no control over his words now , he's nervous , furious and freaked out . If he were to compare his mood to something similar he'd say the time he overblotted , just that he had his magic back then

Now Kalim as well gets into a fight with him . What the hell does this have to do with him ? Jamil has to calm down and be realistic unless they'll never find a way out ! Jamil states that if he grew up just enough to realize how terrible their current situation is , he would've had something better to do than showing mercy over some bunches of street rats

The two of them keep on arguing until someone cuts them of : " Hohoho young men ! What's with all these loud sounds ?"

They stop and turn back to face the source of this old , chill voice . Facing a tall , old man dressed in all black clothes which high-leveled servants would wear and a monocle , giving them a soft , calm smile

" Aa- nevermind grandps ! It wasn't like it seemed we were just talking ! Right Jamily ? " he says , putting a hand on Jamil's shoulder and giving a big , wide smile . "H-hey... don't call me that..." , Jamil doesn't like Kalim acting this chill ; but it is embarrassing to see that they actually called attention

"Hoho , better . Now tell me young men , could it be that you have a trouble ? You look awfully down ," Tanaka asks ; sounding just like a grandfather guiding his grandchildren

Kalim takes a look at Jamil , wondering if it's right to do what he's thinking of and Jamil in return , nods as a yes " Well sir , there you see we actually don't belong here yet to another-" Jamil cuts him off before he could mess the whole thing up : " -Another state , indeed ! We came here for some sort of a business trip and were supposed to be on our way back home by now but sadly , ran into thieves . Our families must be really worried for now and I doubt them being sure of us being hooked up here . We lost everything and have no way to contact anyone we know... only if someone nice enough could be found to help us with it right now ," Jamil dropped his head , trying to act as natural as possible . Kalim wants to remind him that this isn't right to lie someone who is trying to help them yet he wonders if he should let Jamil take care of this now , after all he was much of a worthier leader than him to be honest...

" That's so sad to hear dear boy , I'm sure that young master as well would've been really frustrated if he were here ," Tanaka replies . Oh ? Young master ? Jamil is now interested . Wherever this man came from , it can't be somewhere cheap , Jamil could tell . Leading them to a mightier source would be a better thing than just laying in the streets waiting for some miracle to save them right ? " Young master , you say ? " Kalim asks . " On the second thought , how about me introducing you to my master ? You're not much older than him I suppose , he as well needs to have more friends like you good men ," Tanaka says with a sweet smile . " That'll be so nice of you um , Mr...? " Jamil asks " Tanaka is fine young boys . And you? " " Jamil Viper ," " Kalim al Asim ! Glad to meet you Tanaka sir ! " Kalim says , bringing his hand for Tanaka to shake . Tanaka shakes hands with both of them and Jamil decides to make the process a bit faster : " I look forward to meeting this young master you say , Mr. Tanaka . It's always great to meet more men of culture ," Jamil sneakers . " Then by all means , follow me young men ," Tanaka says . With a sound of pop and some smoke , the tall man shrinks into a chibi version : " Ho , ho , ho ," " What the-!!!" Kalim panicks , no magic and yet this dude can shrink all of a sudden huh ?

" Ho ho," chibi Tanaka says before turning back and going to another direction . " I guess we should follow him," Jamil says . Kalim agrees and then , they're both following the chibi old man to the Phantomhive's mansion . Unaware of the two eyes watching them all this time : " Hihihi ~ they're quite interesting ,"

Feat : Grell Sutcliff & Ronald Knox

"Come oooon Ronald~ Shake your lazy ass and bring her along already..." " Oi senpai , that's mean ! This one's quite heavy-" "JUST SHUT UP AND DO THAT ! Don't you know it's rude to question ladies too much ? " " F-fine then , but at least give me a hand ! Have you even checked if she's dead !? " Heavy ? Dead ? She...? Vil isn't born to be disrespected like this . AND NOT A SINGLE SOUL GETS TO PULL HIM BY LEG WHEN HE'S ASLEEP

Vil immediately starts shouting at the Blondie , threating him that he'll regret it if he doesn't let go of him now . Ronald and Grell almost have a heart attack at Vil's chicken like screech which makes them jump

Vil snads up and glares at the two shinigamis : A really ugly female like one all dressed in red and a small blondie brat which looks like...eh..Azul ? Well nevermind ; doesn't matter now

What should he begin with ? Where he is ? Who these potatoes are and how they didn't recognize him being the leader of Pomefiore ? How perky they were to move him while asleep like this and ruin fabric of his overly expensive unforms ? Too many things to do

" Ah you're too loud ! My ears...Such an unexpected shout to hear from a man this hot I'd say..." Grell giggles . Vil's eyes widen , well of course he is beautiful but to be praised like that ? Ew , this is more of a insult ...

Vil decides to ignore Grell and get to the main point : Who they were and what they wanted . Grell smirks before preparing to give a 5 hour long opera show of shinigamis' romance but Ronald locks him on that point : They are shinigamis , they collect souls of the death , they had grabbed Vil because he looked a bit like the woman they were just going to collect yet didn't pay enough of attention to notice that they made a mistake , so they can all leave since they've got nothing to do with each other

Just before Ronald could get away Vil grabs him by collar , asking where they've brought him to . Grell clears that they just moved him by 30-40 meters from where they found him so it can't be really counted as bringing him to somewhere . Vil refuses to believe , wherever he is , it's way further than Pomefiore dorm or even NRC's accessable area ; that can't be . Vil threatens them one more time : " You refuse to tell , you'll end up dealing with the headmaster ," Grell and Ronald probably don't know who the headmaster is but Grell tries to take advantage : "Aaa? Is he one into punishing type ?" Vil is slowly getting annoyed by how weird this red one sounds to him ; To be honest he acts like an impatient porn star or something...

That's it , he's calling Crowley but uh , where is his phone ? Did he lose it ? Impossible . He'll never forget such an important thing to bring along ... Did these brats dare to steal his pockets....!? Vil asks them to give his phone and wallet back : now " Sir , you may like to know that human money brings no good for us and also , I'm afraid that I don't really know what you may mean by phone? " Ronald mumbles (Remember that phone isn't yet invited at their time ). Why don't this guy just let them go take care of their business ?

Vil hates it when people dare opposing him and doesn't ever take that lightly...who do these two think they are ? " Where is Night Raven College , answer or you'll face unpleasant consequences..." Is Vil challenging Grell ? Then Grell's more than ready to see what this human may have up his slave to speak to a shinigami like this : " And what may the consequences be...?" Vil gets tired , a small spell and this red ass bitch would be nothing but a toad , " I tried to warn you , you should've listened..."

Ahem , hello ? Magic ? Why isn't it working ? " Pffffffftttt- Lmao are you high or something man ? You just woke up !You'll be a great actor though I swear- You can drown in all that nonsense ," Grell laughs . " Well then hottie , I'm afraid we've got to go , see you when it's your time ~ " Grell turns to leave but Vil grabs him by collar . No one is leaving until they explain what the actual heck is going on : this place , the magic , everything

Grell on the other hand enjoyed flirting , but can't take being acted to like this . He pushes Vil back and gives him a psychotic smile , bringing up his chainsaw : " Wouldn't it be amazing if I cut those rushy tongue of yours at once ? fewer words , more of a male charm ," "Oh ?" magic may not work here , but they're not all Vil has got , he can still give this bitch guy a lesson without them : " Oi you two , this isn't really gonna workout-" Ronald mumbles but it's too late now -

Feat : Undertaker

At least he wakes up to a more suitable scene , or it seems so - His body couldn't move freely inside of this cage-like space . Is this a cuffin...? He has experience with them from his freshman year but to end up in one of them again ? Could it be that Crowley is planning on another fancy event like their first time ? Boy , he didn't like it anyway . He knocks the door trying to open it but if seems too heavy to be moved . Damnit- , he hears footsteps from the outside : " Someone there ? Why can't I open this ??" A sudden screech from out and the door slides open : " Ah thank yoUWAHAAAA- !!" Idia screams at the sight of the creepy stranger's smile at him ; he wasn't expecting this . Also , this place doesn't look like the mirror hall ? Who is this guy and where is this place ??

" Hihihi you weren't that dead I see , why waking up so soon though~ ?" , Undertaker giggles in his playful tone . Idia needs too many things to be explained to him but he just doesn't have the time , Crewel will burn him in acid if he gets any late for his class again and he doesn't care how weird his current situation is , he has to go

He gets out of the coffin and rushes to the door but Undertaker stops him there telling him not to show up out there so carelessly , which clearly confuses Idia . " Your hair...It is quite fascinating that curses remain strong even as magic gets blocked..." Undertaker adds . Idia is used to people judging him for his family misfortune but this one seemed quite...odd . He decides to ignore it and leave

" ~ Okies then I warned you , but you'll end up needing a real cuffin in a few minutes pwahahaaa-" , Undertaker burts into laughter and Idia leaves

" creepy ass old ma-" , Idia nags slowly before freezing as someone screams really-loudly right into his ears " HAIR ON FIRE , HIS HAIR IS ON FIRE !!" Before Idia can notice what is going on he's gained tens of gazes to himself , why are these guys all dressed so strangely...

" M-mummy is that a monster ? I'm scared..." " Stay away from our children you hellish creature ! " Idia freezes , critiques coming one after one : Demon , monster , Satan , Death . One option left : Run

Idia now has to run for his life , this world just isn't his thing : not at all . Even if it weren't because of being chased by a group of angry humans , do you think that he could last for even one day in this old fashioned zone ? No technology , no phones , no robots , no gummy bears , no wifi- He'd read about how different the world was before the invention of media and couldn't explain how thankful he was to never have to handle a second in the past world because he wouldn't last there for more than an hour- well he wasn't right about never ending up there but , he was 100% right about not lasting for more than an hour

Now there , he is running like he never has , begging his feet to help him this time out of any other time . Angry people screaming and bringing fire and weapons to destroy the evil

He tries to contact any possible source for help but : No magic - no internet . RIP Idia

Meanwhile Undertaker is chilling at his shop , his mind running over the cursed boy and now listening to the sound of the frightened people because of him , how pathetic , If only he had agreed to hide his hair through a safer way...sigh he should have listened to advises coming from someone who has been living within humans for years by hiding his identity as a shinigami as as his eyes... " My my , humans aren't the only fragile creatures I see..." creation can seem disturbing to him sometimes , and that's the best part with it

Back to Idia , he is slowly running out of breath . Well maybe this is the point where he has to give up ? He has long lived as a loser , bastard , procrastinator and wasted almost each and every second of his life ; well perhaps except Ortho , that was a nice work of him . Wish he was here too say goodbye . He isn't sure if his prayers would be accepted or not but it won't hurt trying : " Good gods who're told to be somewhere up there , I know that I wasn't best that I could be and I won't try to excuse my sins ; just please let it end fast, Ame- " he forgets his prayers as his guardian angel is standing just a few meters away from him ; oh have gods sent an identical twin - human version of Leona for him to be saved ? Well whatever now , he has no time if he's the original furry or not : "LEONAAAA HELLP-!!!!!!"

And yes , he is the original one ! He curses as he sees the population after Idia , what the hell is wrong with this world ? Idia hides behind his back and Leona tries to take control before they end up burning the two of them together : " You people , chill ," " Why you defending that creature ? He a a misfortune ! A demon !" others shout at this words in agreement . Leona laughs it off . He says that Idia is way too dumb for a demon and even if he is one , he's the type to scream his ass off when someone says "hi" . Idia doesn't know if Leona's defending him or not but he doesn't dare saying a word . Leona seems too busy dealing with the crowd and slowly , the argument topic switches from Idia to Leona ; who isn't afraid of punching some faces . The argument slowly takes over and no one (even Leona) realizes Idia sneaking into an alley saving his life . He feels a bit guilty for leaving Leona on his own but he'll be fine , hopefully

Thankfully the alley is deserted and he finally lays down to catch his breath , still panting heavily . He almost got killed today and can't get over it , but things were getting a bit comforting : "Meow~" several cats show up from the corners and Idia puts on a small smile . A white kittens comes closer and allows Idia to touch and comfort him . Idia wonders , how does their lives as a cat here feels ? do they as well get as scared as he was just now? . A few minutes later when Idia -and his cats- were chilling someone steps closer to them . Before Idia gets to run away , a tall , black and familiar face shows up and gives him a pretty calm smirk : " My my , I see you as well adore cats, could it be some part of our hellish natures ?"

"...J-Jade...?"

Feat : Ciel Phantomhive & Sebastian Michaelis

Let us be honest , it isn't going to be that bad for him , is it ? His current lifestyle at Valley of the thorns is nothing less than London's late 19th century , just maybe it had more of a natural theme . Well , no technology can be good news since he never really get used to it after all . London's atmosphere as well seem to be just his thing : Sometimes savage but calm , filled with tea parties and great ceremonies , an interesting back ground toward the royal family and in summary , Malleus's ideal theme

Well maybe except some things : 1) HORNS-ARE-GONE . His family treasure , the great heritage that proved him coming from the all great and respected Draconia family , now is gone 2) No need to mention that there is no sight of his fairy ears either- 3) Having his magic lost in this unknown world , he is now nothing different from a fragile human being , just as weak , just as empty , just as disgusting . Oh but our prince isn't totally left on his own here...

Unexpectedly , Phantomhive's mansion is serving a mysterious guest today , even though Ciel was against letting strangers inside the house . Sebastian insisted on being aware of the importance of hospitality as the Queen's watch dog , specially with special guests

Everything seems odd to Malleus , this world , this time , this people and...this master and butler . He is no fool , not even the foolishest of these humans would treat and cater strangers without wanting something in return , therefore he needs to keep his guard up . They shouldn't be aware of his actual identity even if they look deprived of any magic

Ciel is feeling awfully uncomfortable , who is this man ? And what the heck about him might have caught Sebastian's eyes ? This greedy demon wouldn't easily be impressed , so what could it be ?

Sebastian insists that it's how he should learn to treat everyone else if he's willing to be well remembered after death ; he pronounces the last word in a pretty deep , dark tone . Making it clear that how he'll finally die in a sarcastic way which teased Ciel

He decides not to have any argues with Sebastian on that point since he can act pretty cocky with stuff he gets stubborn over , so let's see what he's hiding up in sleeve this time . Though Ciel is suspicious of other stuff as well , this Mr... -whatever he is since he doesn't give them a name- looks like a pale - greenish version of Sebastian . Could he be another demon..?

Malleus refuses to give them a name due to possible risks , yet he has to admit that he's being taken care of properly . The room he's given isn't as big as the one in his castle , but is still considerable for something a stranger would be given . Other than that , anyone else he's met here so far seemed to be pretty chill , oh except this tiny child with a blindfold and he gets to be called young master ? He has to admit that he's impressed . To be in control of all this property when you aren't yet even tall enough to pick your favorite book from the shelf on your own

And there is another guy who is really...how to explain , is it some feeling of deja Vu or he really does look like Silver ? The guy is always talking to the snakes just as Silver talks to the birds and animals . If it weren't because of difference in eye color , perhaps Malleus wouldn't believe that he wasn't Sliver himself . " Your stay won't last much longer master , your friends are on their way here , says Donne ," Snake tells him . Malleus doesn't really know how to feel about him but his words comfort him for some reason...

Ciel says that he needs to check on the trio since they've been calling him all day so he heads to the front yard , leaving Sebastian and Malleus alone

Sebastian offers him some tea and Malleus of course sees no reason to refuse . Sebastian doesn't sit beside him because it's arrogant of servants to sit beside the guests , so he remains stood up . He doesn't bother starting a conversation with Malleus and he does know how to get him to speak . Malleus doesn't mind answering to...some of his questions . How he likes it here in London , if he needs anything else during his stay , but the last question made his eyes widen : Does he do feel any uncomfortable under the terms of not being able to use his powers ?

Malleus doesn't answer , he pretends that he didn't hear him and stares at the window . He is hoping it to help him ignore Sebastian , but what he sees isn't any better : Isn't that... Rosehearts laying there...??

Malleus has to go , not only because of getting rid of Sebastian at this point but to also check on his ally if he's alright or not : Did the butler know he too was here all the time ?

Sebastian just knows what was going on in his mind and wants better answers . Malleus stands up to leave but Sebastian takes grabs his arm before he could do anything : " No need to rush . We still have a lot to talk about , Mr. Draconia ,"

♦♥♠♣

Note for Idia's part : I was actually planning on Idea having his hair as well gone because , well , no magic no hair ? But that seemed too unfair for him lol

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #black butler #Sebastian Michaelis #azul ashengrotto #leona kingscholar #Grell Sutcliff #jade leech #Vil Schoenheit #Jamil Viper #Riddle Rosehearts #Idia Shroud #Kalim al asim #Ciel Phantomhive #twst x Reader #twisted wonderland x black butler #twisted wonderland x reader #Undertaker

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browniefox · 4 years ago

Text

Color Theory

@wrightfamilyweek Day 2 - Investigation/Hijinks

In which an anniversary is coming up, so Trucy makes some plans.

You can also find this on AO3 right here :)

“Have fun at work, Daddy!”

Trucy runs up to Daddy and hugs him around the stomach. He kisses the top of his head.

“Mmhm, I expect your homework to be done and you to be in bed by the time I get home, alright? No exceptions!"

“Of course!”

“And no trips to Germany, alright? I’m sure you can hold off for another few months.” Daddy teases. Trucy sticks his tongue out at him and he ruffles her hair before going out the door. In a few months, she is going to actually get to go with Daddy on one of his trips to see Miles, a reconnection between the two of them since Trucy's own little trip a year ago.

As the door closes, Trucy runs over to the window and waits until she sees Daddy riding down the street on his bike, officially out of the building. Her homework is already done, most of it finished during class time and the rest of it finished up during recess and on her way home from school. Walking while writing had made her numbers come out a little odd, but it didn’t matter, because now she had hours and hours of time to work.

She stops by the fridge, staring up at the calendar. It’s four weeks away from the date circled in red, and two weeks from the date that sits ominously empty. It’s plenty of time, though.

Trucy makes a lap around the office, double-checking that the windows are locked just like Daddy does every time before leaving. Everything seems safe and sound, so she grabs her backpack and leaves, making sure she has the spare key and locking the door behind her. Daddy won’t be home until late, but she’s still going to make care to be home with plenty of time to spare. The meer idea of putting him through the same fear of last year sits in her chest like a promise.

It’s a few bus-stops to get to Gummy and Maggey’s house. They’re both out at the moment, so Trucy finds the spare key in the fake rock and lets herself in. She’s spent a lot of time over here by now, and the couple has spent alot of time over at the office, the big and towering man she’d met at the airport transforming into a familiar and lovable family friend.

She skips over to the closet, pulling out the supplies stuck in there. Streamers and confetti, magic wands and fake flowers, tumbling out from where Gummy had helped her shove them in last time. She looks down at the supplies and begins organizing it into the different acts that they’re associated with. There’s a lot of pieces, a lot to get over to the Wonder Bar eventually. Keeping so much of it over here makes it harder to practice back at home, but that’s kind of the point, even if it’s really annoying.

Gummy and Maggie came home after an hour, setting their things down and chatting about their day while Gummy starts dinner. The smell fills the house, warm and comforting. Trucy likes the Gumshoe house. It’s not too big, but not too small either. Gummy and Maggey used to clean it up before she came over, but they’ve stopped making that special little change for her, and so she gets to see it all lived in, a sock strewn here, a few dishes left out, pillows lying wherever they were last placed. Small things that make the place not a house but a home. She’s never had a home like this one, and oh there are sometimes where she’ll be lying on the couch and imagine what it would be like to stay here.

She knows she could.

Daddy has made it clear that if she ever felt dissatisfied with the cramped office, with him, all she has to do was say something. Gummy and Maggey have mentioned, before, that they’d be willing to take her in if anything ever happened to Daddy. Gummy had laughed about all the sorts of injuries Daddy tended to accrue, recounting a story about Daddy getting amnesia before a case - Trucy knew that one, she’d read it a bit ago.

Trucy doesn’t want to leave the cramped little office.

After dinner, Trucy uses Gummy’s phone. Gummy and Maggey know how to set up her stuff for a performance by now - they’ve already agreed to be her stage crew for the performance. While they’re doing that, Trucy calls up Aunty Maya.

“How’s my favorite magician doing?” Maya answers, and Trucy can hear the smile in her voice.

“Working on her next trick.” Trucy replies. Maya makes a humming sound.

“Well, things are going well on our end over here. Are you sure about the color? You don’t want to go darker?” Maya asked.

“Nope! It’s, well, there’s a reason for the shade.” Trucy says. She can hear Maya hum in understanding over the receiver.

“Well, I’m almost finished with it, although I’ll probably come up soon just to make sure everything is right. Pearly says hi, by the way.”

“Oh! Is she there?! Is she there?! Hi Pearls!” Trucy shouts over the phone and gets a distant and soft ‘hi Trucy!’.

“When I come down I’ll bring Pearly with me, don’t worry. If I didn’t,she might just run the whole way over there anyway!” Maya laughs and Trucy laughs along.

“If everything’s working out, then I’m gonna have to go. I need to make sure the rest of the show is ready to go!” Trucy says.

“Alright, alright, just say you’re afraid I’m going to start prattling on about the new season of Rubber Samurai. But you know there-”

“Love you Aunty Maya bye!” Trucy hits the end call button still chuckling to herself. She hopes that Aunty Maya makes true on her promise to come back down and to bring Pearls before the big day, but if she doesn’t then Trucy guesses she can wait that long, even if it’ll be agonizing.

She stares at the next number for a long long while before finally hitting the call button.

The phone rings once, twice, three times before he picks up.

“Gumshoe, this had better be fucking import-”

“Hi, Miles!” Trucy chirps. There’s silence on the other end.

“... who is this?” Miles grumbles.

“Trucy Wright!”

“Trucy?!” Miles sounds a little more awake now.

“Yup!”

“Ms. Trucy… why are you calling me at… three in the morning?” Miles groans.

“Th… three in the… OH!” Trucy gasps, feeling her face flush in embarrassment. She’d completely forgotten to take into account time differences. “Oh my god, Miles, I’m so sorry, it’s pretty late here and-”

“It’s, it’s fine Ms. Trucy. Just tell me what you were calling about… from Gumshoe’s phone? Is your father alright?” Worry creeps into Miles voice.

“Oh, yes, Daddy’s fine! Daddy’s just at work right now, and I went over to Gummy and Maggey’s! We had spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and then we’re gonna play a card game, and then Gummy is gonna drive me back to the office ‘cause it’s all dark now!” Trucy says.

“Ms. Trucy, I don’t mean to sound rude, but again, it is three a.m. here…” Miles sighs.

“Right! Right, um… Mr. Edgeworth, do you think you could help me with a little something.”

“I’m going to need a bit more information than that.”

Trucy rattles off her little plan into the phone. Miles stays silent for the entire explanation, only grunting here and there to assure her that he is still awake and listening on the other end.

“... this is very short notice.” Miles says.

“Oh,” Says Trucy, looking down at her feet, “Well, that’s okay, I’m sure together, the rest of us-”

“I never said I wouldn’t do it, just that next time you’re planning something like This, please, tell me about it a little more ahead of time.”

“Okay! Yeah! Next time! And this time… you can do it?” She double checks.

“Yes, you can count on me, Ms. Trucy.”

“Thank you! Um, I’ll let you get back to sleep, thank you!”

Trucy skips back into the kitchen, where Gummy and Maggey have set up a board game. She still has her show to practice a bit more, and even now thinking about it she’s a little nervous, but she’s found she’s more excited. It’s coming together.

oOo

“Please, Daddy, please, come and see my show tonight? Pleaseeeee?”

Phoenix lets out a long sigh. Trucy is bouncing around in excitement in front of him. She’s already done her stage makeup, and he’d helped her put little weaving braids into her hair. Most of it will be covered up by her hat, but there are usually moments during the performance where the hat comes off, and so she needs to look amazing no matter what’s going on. Phoenix is fine to help her with this, but on today of all days, all he wants to do is sit in his office, read through old case files, and mourn what he has lost.

He was disbarred two years ago. That both feels like too much and not enough time. For the most part, he likes to think that he’s been coping with it well. He’s been working, and raising Trucy, and he’s had some other little things in the works, but on today of all days, it’s so hard to focus and not feel the ache of what was taken from him, of what he’s lost, of those who have come to his door in the past couple years looking for help and having to be turned away.

“Trucy, baby,” Phoenix starts, trying to let her down easy, but Trucy stomps her foot.

“No, Daddy, please, just, just come? To the show? Please?” She begs.

She’s been 'off' all week, too quiet and then too talkative in bursts that serve to confuse Phoenix. Now, there’s something almost akin to fear in her eyes, and it tugs at Phoenix’s heartstrings.

“Alright, sweetie, let me just,” He looks down at himself, still in sweatpants and a hoodie. He’d meant to get dressed today, but even now he’s struggling to find the energy to get into something better, and eventually he just says lamely, “Put some shoes on.”

He gets a pair of beat-up sneakers on and walks outside with Trucy, who is still vibrating with energy. He considers for a moment that perhaps he should buy a new pair of shoes, but then he sees Trucy’s cape, starting to look thread-bare in places and sitting so much shorter on her than it did two years ago. It used to fall to cover her almost completely in a mysterious sort of way, but now you can see her entire hands. Trucy has told him before it’d be fine, her cape had been too long anyway, but maybe he should start to consider how to get her something new and nice. Things for himself could be put off as long as they needed to be.

The ride down to the Wonder Bar is quiet between them, Trucy sitting on his handlebars with careful balance. The first five times they did it, Phoenix had been worried about her falling off or something, but now it was routine if they had anywhere they both had to be and didn’t have the time to puzzle through bus schedules or the budget for a taxi.

Phoenix recognizes some of the people in the Wonder Bar, and Mr. Wunderbar himself comes over and greets.

“Ah, Ms. Wright, so glad to see you! Your assistants are already backstage.” Mr. Wunderbar says. Phoenix’s brow furrows.

“Assistants? You mean the your staff?” Phoenix asks.

“Alright thanks Mr. Wunderbar Daddy find a seat love you bye!” Trucy says in one breath and runs over to the stage.

“This way, Mr. Wright. Trucy asked that we have a table upfront reserved just for you.” Mr. Wunderbar leads the way to one of the tables close to the stage, which does indeed have a a ‘Reserved’ marker on it. Phoenix feels suddenly self conscious in his outfit. He’d been planning to sit in the back, where nobody could see him, and he feels like everybody in the bar, waiting for Trucy to perform, are staring at him.

Mr. Wunderbar took his order and then slipped away. Phoenix drumms his fingers on the table, a cowardice sweeping through him with such force that he almost gets up and walks away. Something odd is going on, and it's making him even more nervous.

“Oh good, Trucy was really worried you wouldn’t show up.”

Phoenix jumps at the familiar voice, and spins around to see Maya and Pearls.

“Wh- hey, what are you two doing here?!” Phoenix jumps up and hugs both of them, “And especially what’s Pearls doing in here?”

“Mr. Wunderbar says that so long as nobody at our table orders drinks, he’ll allow it this once.” Maya says, sitting down, and Pearls sits on the other side of Phoenix, sandwiching him between the Fey’s.

“But why are you two-”

“Now Nick, do you really think we’d let you spend today on your own to mope?” Maya sets her hands on her hips. Phoenix looks away. He doesn’t point out that they didn’t last year, because it’s not their responsibility to look after him. Maya has her own life she’s living. She had texted and called him, though, regularly, throughout the day, at random intervals. She threatened that if he didn’t pick up any of the times, she’d be coming over right way, “I’ll admit, though, clearly we came mostly to see Trucy perform. Right Pearls?”

“Yeah! She’s so amazing, Mr. Nick! And we also had to bring the-” Pearls starts to say, but Maya puts a finger to her lips and shushes Pearls, who’s mouth slams shut.

“... alright, enough of this, what’s going on?” Phoenix asks more plainly.

“So she still hasn’t seen fit to tell you yet?”

And then, slipping into the fourth seat at the table, is Miles. Miles, in California, in the flesh, in the Wonderbar.

“M-Miles! What are you doing here?”

“Your daughter had a simple request, and I obliged.” Miles sniffs, “You look,” Miles regards Phoenix and Phoenix looks away, wishing he’d brought something to cover his head as well, “Alright, all things considered.” He ends.

“No need to sugar coat it, Miles.” Phoenix laughs bitterly.

“I’m not. You seem to forget you’re not the only one who has gone through some trying times.”

Before Phoenix can formulate anything to say to that, the lights in the bar dim. The curtain lifts, but there’s a sheet behind it, so that all once can see of Trucy is her silhouette.

“Now introducing… Trucy Gramraye!” The announcer booms, and there’s some applause, even though nothing’s happened yet, Trucy still not seen.

“There are times that we, in life, come to a crossroads,” Trucy’s voice booms through the speakers over a mystical sounding soundtrack, “ Where we our lives take sudden changes.”

Oh, Phoenix thinks, heart plummeting to the bottom of his stomach, a theory forming in his mind, She wanted me here for her Last Show. Did something happen that made her want to stop being a magician? He’s tried to be supportive, even though he’s had some trouble keeping track of the supplies she needs, and how to help her out, with her teaching him far more than he can possibly teach her about this stuff. He’s offered to get in touch with Max Galactica, but Trucy had made it plain her opinion of that magician.

“Sometimes, you need to say things. And sometimes actions - and appreances - speak louder than words.”

Phoenix almost wants to stand up, to shout at her that no, he doesn’t want her to give up her magic just because she thinks it’s going to make him happy, but he’s frozen in his seat as the sheet of paper hiding his daughter from view is torn through and fog comes rolling out… but she’s not there.

In a puff of smoke, Trucy appears on top of his table. She winks down at him, the spot light finding her.

Her red hat and cape and bag are all gone, replaced by pale blue versions. New, lovingly crafted, and Trucy puts her hands above her head in a pose.

“I am Trucy Gramarye, but your little witch in red is now a magician in blue. Sorry if I startled anybody by coming… out of the blue like that?” Trucy says. She smiles, twirls around, and in another puff of smoke she’s gone. The room goes dark.

The spotlight finds her back on the stage, still in the strange blue uniform.

“Wh-what- when did she-”

“You know, in Kurain, we have to make all our own clothes.” Maya says with a mischievous little smirk.

“You mean you-”

“She wanted to put together something to make sure you weren’t too sad today.” Maya explains, smiling.

Phoenix does his best not to cry so that he doesn’t miss any bit of the show.

When it’s done, Mr. Wunderbar brings over another chair and Trucy sits with them. Phoenix spends the evening surrounded by his friends, by his family, and staring at Trucy’s new outfit. Blue, just like his old suit, he thinks.

“Do you like it?” She asks, surprisingly shyly, right before bed. Phoenix grins, picks her up, and twirls her around.

“You look amazing sweetie. You know, you didn’t have to go through all that just for me.”

“I didn’t do it just for you.” Trucy defends, “I did it because I wanted to! And because I love you!”

“I love you too Truce.”

Tomorrow morning, reality will set in again. He’ll have work, and maybe all the grief he was able to put off today will make a forceful comeback, but tonight he knows he’s loved, and that Trucy wants to be a part of his world, wants to be a part of his broken little family, and maybe that’s all that really matters in the end.

#ace attorney #wrightweek21 #phoenix wright #trucy wright #fanfic #fanfiction #browniefox speaks #browniefox writes

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