#still. he's rare at group outings but he'll ask you to coffee 'just the two of us' from time to time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alleycat-arcade · 3 years ago

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Game Start... The Seven Lords: Love Paradise...

...

Why do I look so dejected? It's nothing, don't worry about it. Hmm? Oh, I don't think you want to play that machine. I've only seen a specific group of regulars playing that one.

Are you sure? Alright, if you insist. Let me know if you need any games to cleanse your palette.

(My friends are being little bastards again and asked me to make this for them. They offered me something I couldn't refuse, a get out of Gay Baby Jail free card. Anyway, I hope yall get some form of joy from this lmao.)

Housedemon Headcanons (Obey Me! Shall We Date?: Brothers Part 1)

Content Warnings: Crackish?, but the rest is fluff, Potential out of chara stuff, and pre-established relationship(Since this is a play on the phrase housewife and or malewife), some mature content

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Lucifer:

How? How did you manage to get him to leave the House of Lamentation AND Diavolo so he could live with you in the human world? And a better question is, how did you convince him that the Devildom won't burn down in his absence, be it by his brothers or even the demon prince himself?

The best case scenario I can imagine is that the two of you go back and forth between the two realms. The two of you stay in your home in the human world for at most a month every now and then, and spend the rest of the time in the Devildom. But while you're in your cozy little home with just the two of you, you do your best to make sure he does as little work as possible. That means you end up being the one to pay the bills while Luci takes care of the house.

He was originally against the idea of staying home, he had even started looking for jobs in the area. But, he does love you, and if you really want him to be a "housedemon", he'll eventually give in. ("Mc, it's fine. I can pick up a decent paying office job around here at this nearby company." "Luci, honey. I love you, but what company is going to hire someone named Lucifer? Did you already forget that you were too stubborn to change the name on our marriage certificate to a fake one?")

But to be honest, he enjoys having the time away from paperwork and dealing with his brothers. Lucifer is a lot more relaxed than usual, especially when you return home.

Your house is pretty much clean all the time, since Luci usually cleans up messes long before they get out of control. Since he's used to having a routine most of the time, he likes to keep a similar one in the Human World.

He usually has all his daily housework done by the time you get home. Typically, you can find him in his study or in the living room listening to something on his record player and reading a novel. On the rare occasion you catch him watching something on TV, but he's quick to shut it off when he hears you come in.

The way his eyes soften and he gives you a gentle smile when you come in the door? C'est magnifique. It's the same smile you usually see when you bring him coffee and urge him away from his paperwork back in the Devildom, but it lacks that sense of fatigue he usually has.

If you're home before he starts on dinner, he's there waiting for you. If you do come home around the time he's still cooking it, it is the perfect opportunity to sneak up behind him and give him a hug. Devildom dishes are much different than human dishes, and many human ingredients are easily ruined in a short span of time, so he's usually pouring most of his attention into that. You can surprise him if you're quiet enough, but most of the time he'll let you do it anyway. Should you happen to be taller than him, press a soft kiss against the top of his head for some added softness to the chuckle he lets out when he feels your arms around his waist. Don't try and do this back home in the Devildom though, he'll likely think one of his brothers is messing with him and you'll get a wing to the face.

Side-note: Somehow a few issues from the Devildom trickle between the cracks and Lucifer has to return for a moment. Usually it's about minor issues that he can run there and back in less than a day to take care of, but when it happens at some of your "private" moments Luci's in a fairly pissy mood for a hot minute. You cannot count the number of calls for help you got from the brothers on your D.D.D. when they had called at the climax of the two of you's downtime to tell Luci that somehow one of them lit Hell's Kitchen on fire.

Mammon:

Mammon isn't fully against the idea, but he may need some encouraging. He just wants to make sure he keeps his Greed in check for you and you don't end up hurt or broke from it. If you snuck a peek at some of the books he's been reading lately, you can tell he's trying his best. The covers range from "How to Deal with a Gambling Addiction", to "The Best Ways to Keep a House Neat and Tidy: For Demons". Don't point it out to him too soon though, or he'll go bright red and deny everything. Mams is a lot tamer with his whole tsundere thing now that he put a ring on your finger, but it still slips in every now and then.

When he moves in with you in the Human World, like his older brother, he immediately offers to get a job to pay some bills. Except, unlike Luci, he wasn't as stubborn to refuse putting a pseudonym on the marriage certificate. (Your Devildom one has his name on it anyway.) But, Mammon is very weak for his beloved human, some pleading and puppy eyes and he's putty in your hands.

There's a little mess around the house sometimes, but it never lasts too long. He's usually pretty good at keeping the house clean, aside from a stray dirty towel or a few dishes left out in the sink. If his brothers are coming over, he deep cleans the house. They likely don't pick on him as much since he's not in the Devildom as often as usual(and he's genuinely improved from your presence in his life). His brothers do nearly have a heart attack when they come in to the intense smell of lemon and fresh linens, not to mention Mammon in an apron tending to some indoor plants.

Mammon seems like the type who'd never think they'd like gardening, but actually loves it when they get into it. There is a ton of fresh veggies in his garden that he usually uses to cook with, but he grows a separate garden purely for corn. Why? To feed his adoring crows of course! He pretty much has a fan club of entirely crows that land in the backyard on a set schedule. They don't leave much of a mess behind though, but Mammon probably asks them not to. He likely also grows some flowers as well, but most of them are for you. Ones that remind him of you, ones that you say you like, et cetera et cetera.

You don't need to adopt a dog to have a Golden Retriever come barreling down the stairs to give you a hug and cover you in kisses when you come home. No matter what time it is, if he's not cooking or asleep, he's booking it to greet you at the door. Mammon will get all blushy if you playfully tease him about it, probably ends up just burying his face in your neck and muttering about it.

His cooking is fairly decent, but he did burn a few things when he was getting the hang of it. He does like indulging in some fast food or some spicy ramen when he just doesn't have the energy to cook, usually after a visit from his brothers. The two of you will just sit on the couch and watch something you both enjoy while sharing a blanket and having dinner.(Bonus points if its a cheesy Rom-Com)

Side-note: While he may not act like it or be given respect of the title most of the time, he IS the Avatar of Greed and one of the strongest demons in the Devildom. So, he'll likely be called back every now and then. If you're not working that day, he'll take you with him and the two of you just spend the rest of the night out on the town in the Devildom. Perhaps he may indulge a little in gambling with your supervision, as a treat. If you are working and can't get out of it, he'll bring you back cute little souvenirs. You might find an extra large extra cursed Zombie Iguana plush laying on your couch when he gets back.

Leviathan:

"Lol okay" ..."Wait, seriously?"

Levi is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you two are married in the first place, but now you want to have him live with you in the Human World with just the two of you? He's gonna need a moment hang on. Okay, okay he's good now. But seriously, he'd likely be one of the easiest to get out of the Devildom. He will need a bit to make sure he packs up a good chunk of his stuff and Henry 2.0 to bring to the house and the rest will remain at home with the strongest protection spells he can manage on his room. Lotan probably keeps guard in there as well.

He is a little apprehensive at the idea of not helping out paying for things since he's taken up Part-time jobs for extra Grimm before, but he eases into it with some reassurance. Plus, when you call him your cute little housedemon he feels like he is going to melt into the floor.

He does his best to keep things neat and tidy, but sometimes he gets too enraptured in a different task that he forgets about the other he was about to do. The two of you make it a sort of bonding activity to do some of the leftover housework together on your off days. He doesn't mind when his brothers drop by, but he does ask them to wipe their shoes/take off their shoes when they come in the door. The brothers at first assumed that the cleanliness was from you and that wherever he games at is a mess, but when they can't find much more that some trash that hasn't been taken out yet and a little dust, they're definitely surprised. The main thing that doesn't surprise them is seeing Levi in an oversized Ruri-chan shirt while cleaning.

Hobbies wise, streaming is something probably obvious that he does. He doesn't do it for any intention of money though, he just likes interacting with other people who play the same games or share the same interests as him. You're a mod in his chat, and he you can hear how happy he is when you pop in to say hi during your lunch break. If he gains enough confidence, he'll ask you if he can commission someone for a Vtuber avatar. Other than streaming, he does enjoy sewing an assortment of items. Mostly cosplay stuff, but he's sewn you and him matching plush toys, matching Halloween costumes, and any tears or rips in your clothes.

Depending on how late in the day it is, he may be asleep on the couch waiting for you with one of your favorite two player games up on the TV. You almost don't want to wake him up, but that sleepy smile he gives you when you do is too tempting to let him just lay there. There are actually rare days in which you return home earlier than him, which are when he needs to deal with things in the Devildom as Grand Admiral. Those nights, you cook up his favorite meal and wait for him to come home. Levi hasn't even managed to shrug his coat off or remove his hat at the door before he gets his welcome home kiss. Depending on the kind of day he's had, he might need a massage.

His cooking is alright, but he excels in baking. There's almost not a single day that there isn't a beautiful cake in the fridge that's themed after a character. One cannot describe the amount of joy in the room when it's time for the two of you to have dessert and you take turns feeding bites to each other. He's glad his brothers aren't around, so he doesn't have to hear the sounds of fake gagging.

Side-note: Levi actually begins to gain some confidence from your encouragement and just being around you all the time. He's still not too fond of social situations, but he's far more comfortable when he's holding your hand. So, the two of you do go to a handful of conventions together in matching cosplays.

Satan:

Honestly, Satan is all up for it. If he wasn't concerned for how his brothers would react, he'd pack up that night. He's more than happy to follow you to the ends of the Earth and back, considering just how much trust there is between the two of you to even marry in the first place.

"You want me to just take care of the house and then do whatever else I want?" "Yeah, basically." "So I can just read for as long as I want?" "Pretty much."

Jokes aside, he doesn't actually spend all of his time reading. A good chunk of it yes, but there's still plenty of time leftover to do other things since he doesn't have RAD to worry about.

The two of you adopt a cat not too long after he moves in. Don't worry if you're allergic, he's researched enough about cats to know which ones won't cause your allergies to flare up.

He's good at cleaning, but not at organizing. Sure, he can stack up his books in nice and neat piles, but for the love of- just put them back on the damn shelves. Satan can't say he's not surprised when he sees a few books on organization show up miraculously in his piles. He'll try his best for you, but his disorganization is a tough habit to break(probably started out of teenage rebellion lol).

Lucifer thinks you've replaced him with an identical copy when the brothers come to visit and the books are put up all neat and tidy, the laundry is folded and put away nicely, and the Avatar of Wrath is in the middle of cooking dinner in a vaguely cat-shaped pan.

Speaking of his brothers visiting, do ensure he knows long ahead of time so he can make sure his magical barriers on a certain closet is as strong as possible. He does not want to listen to centuries of teasing about all of his cat-themed clothing items. Not that he doesn't like them, he loves wearing them more than his regular clothes which is why you keep buying them for him. He also doesn't want them walking in when he's got his hair tied back and a "Kiss the Kitten" apron on.

Satan usually spends the times that he's done cleaning and he doesn't feel like reading watching a lot of Human World dramas with your shared cat on his lap. If he's really into a specific one, he'll sometimes leave it on while he's cleaning with the subtitles on and the TV loud enough for him to hear it over the vacuum cleaner. The neighbors may hate him, but he does not really care since he's doing it within the hours you're allowed to be loud anyway. Other than watching dramas or reading, I could see him picking up a little bit of fitness on the side. Something simple and stress relieving. Though you do have a punching bag downstairs if he's feeling particularly stressed.

You can pretty much expect Satan to be waiting up for you on the couch when you get home or in the kitchen. He'll smile and hold you close, but if he's feeling playful that day he may do a mixture of whining and teasing at you. Some nights you do get home very late and find him absolutely wiped out on the couch. If you're strong enough, he'd be more than happy to have you carry him to bed. If you aren't though, he's plenty happy waking up to you snuggling into his arms on the couch.

He doesn't head to the Devildom much, but it's usually with you if you're available. He does need to keep his connection network up and as an Avatar he does have some work to do. If you aren't there with him, he sends you a lot of messages throughout the day of just whatever he's thinking about or saw.

Side-note: He won't admit it in front of his brothers, especially not Levi, but he has been influenced by the third born a good bit. Every now and then Satan indulges in some story-rich video games or anime. He almost got caught in the middle of playing a game with anime scenes in it, but settled for throwing his D.D.D. as hard and far across the room as possible instead of getting caught. He'll only indulge in front of you.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

(I had this already written for my friends who wanted it, and hadn't planned on posting it but the newest chapter on one of my fics is taking a little longer than usual. So, yeah, here we are. Do not look at me please. If there is any weird bits in it, please take it up with the simps in my friend group and discord.)

#obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years ago

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Wide Awake-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Here’s Pt. 2 bitches. I hope you all enjoy ! Also, please go support and follow @notphilosopherstudentblog because she helped me out with this because she’s so intelligent. <3

Btw Title is based off Katy Perry’s song Wide Awake

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5k+

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It was early. Too early for Y/n to be crying. But her she was, sitting in bed, clinging to one of Clay's old shirts. In the past, it was normal for her to steal a couple of his belongings. It was typical of Y/n to invite herself into his closet, taking whatever she wanted to wear, whenever she wanted. But now it just felt wrong.

There were only a few items left Y/n had that were his. She never washed this shirt, she had only worn it once. She could still remember the day she stole it.

"Y/n, you've got to be kidding," Clay turned in his desk chair. She had just walked out of his closet wearing an oversized grey t-shirt. "You're seriously going to leave me with five pieces of clothing."

She shot him a playful look, taking a moment to admire herself in the nearest mirror. "I'm sorry Mr. 15 million subscribers. You can always buy more clothes with all that money."

"Fine... it looks better on you anyway."

She had spent the rest of the day in his shirt. And by the end of the day, the scent of his laundry detergent was strong. For an odd reason, the t-shirt had spent weeks in the back of Y/n's closet, untouched. At least, until this morning.

All night she was toss and turning. It seemed impossible for her to get a moment of sleep, her mind had been racing. The only reason she wasn't able to sleep was because of one person; Clay. Their fight had played over and over again in her mind.

'But Y/n, I really do love you.'

There were so many different ways the night could've ended. But it was her fault it ended how it did. If only she hadn't asked for him to step out of the stupid restaurant with her. She didn't need to make a scene, but she still did. This was all her fault.

The sound of her phone buzzing had pulled Y/n away from the piece of fabric in her hands. Looking down at her nightstand, she glanced at the electronic. Wilbur was calling. With a sigh, hesitantly she reached for the phone.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

The brunette bit his lip at the sound of her voice. He could tell she had a rough night. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm..." she paused, looking down at the shirt in her lap. "Yeah, I'm doing better."

"That's good to hear," For some odd reason, he was pacing. It wasn't normal for him to pace back and forth. He was already dressed for the day, wearing a set of brown pants with a creme button-up shirt. A pair of glasses rested on his face as he spoke. "George and I were hoping to go get some breakfast. Do you think you could show us somewhere good?"

"Yeah, I'm up for breakfast. What about Nick and Clay?" If Clay was coming, she didn't know what she'd do. There would be tension, but maybe she could find a way to patch everything up between them.

"Nick's going over to Clay's. They wanna have a bit of time together."

"Oh, okay... when do you guys wanna meet up?"

"Maybe 30 minutes to an hour?"

"An hour it is."

Before preparing to go out, Y/n had texted Wilbur a location point to meet up. It was a nice restaurant located in town, it had always been one of her favorite places to eat. George and Wilbur had gotten a table outside, it was nice out for a day in Flordia.

"Do you think she's gonna do it?"

Wilbur glanced across the table to George, "Honestly, probably not." He let out a sigh, " hope she agrees. I really do. But it's gonna be hard for her to let go. I just think it'd be better if they got some time away from each other."

"You're right. As good of friends they are, they need a break from each other." They both knew it wasn't a good idea for Y/n to stay in Flordia at the moment, she needed a moment away from Clay. So Wilbur had come up with an idea to get Y/n to take a break.

"What do you think of Elise?" Changing the subject, George leaned back in his chair. It was rare for Clay's girlfriend to come up in conversation. She seemed like such a touchy subject in the group. She was definitely a sweetheart, but it seemed like she appeared out of nowhere. The group had been planning future Dream SMP roleplay on a Discord call. It had been so brief when Clay mentioned her. 'Hey guys, I just wanted to mention I started dating somebody.' It was smart of George to hold his tongue because of what else Clay had to say. 'Her name is Elise and she's 19.'

Most of the group had expected Clay and Y/n to end up together. They were best friends who lived in the same town. There was constant flirting going on between them. And not to mention Y/n had always been there to support Clay through the bad and good.

"Hey, guys!"

Both of the British men were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of her voice. Y/n was quick to take a seat by Wilbur. "Have we ordered yet?"

"No actually, we've been waiting for you." George fixed his posture, his classic grin appeared on his face. "Got any recommendations for drinks?"

"My go-to has to be a mimosa and the eggs benedict."

The knock came as a surprise, but there were a lot of surprises happening this morning. Clay had woken up earlier than usual. Naturally, he'd get up around 9 or 10, but today he woke at 7. He couldn't go to bed for a few more hours, his mind wouldn't quit racing with thoughts. He had ended up skipping breakfast, he wasn't hungry today. It was normal for him to eat something, he always woke up starved. The early knock was the cherry on top of the cake of the surprises happening today.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing here?" Clay glanced behind his friend, looking for any sign of the rest of his friends. Originally, they had planned to meet up later that afternoon at his place. "I thought you were coming by at noon?"

Nick stood on the porch, burying his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was early in the morning, yet it was already warm outside. "Yeah, sorry I didn't ask if I could come by earlier. I just wanted some time alone with you."

"Cool, make yourself at home," Stepping aside, the blonde opened the door a bit wider for his friend. "Sorry it's a bit messy, I was planning to clean up before you guys showed up."

The pair had made their way to Clay's living room. It was nice, but still a bit messy just as he said. As the blonde began to pick up after himself, the pair had a bit of small banter.

"Is Elise gonna come by this afternoon?" Nick watched as Clay picked up a couple of items sitting on the coffee table.

"Uh, no. I think she had work today."

"Oh, what about Y/n?"

Clay tensed, pausing for a second. She had been on his mind a lot since the last time he saw her. The way she looked at him... it hurt. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. This morning she was all he could think of. He missed her good morning texts, the way she'd update him about little situations happening in her schedule, when she would randomly face time him just to say: 'I wanted to see your stupid face because I missed it.'

"I... she's not coming."

"Why's that?"

"You know why, Nick." Clay let out a sigh, taking a seat on the couch. He didn't know what he could do, he was the one who messed everything up. If he tried to apologize, he might even piss Y/n off even more. She had always been a hardass about being hurt or betrayed, it was hard for her to give people a second chance. "I don't even think she knows we're all planning to meet up later today."

"Dude... it's weird seeing you two like this. It feels wrong." The two friends looked at one another, it seemed like Nick could tell exactly what Clay was thinking. 'It is wrong.'

"I miss her. But I was also the one who fucked everything up by ignoring her for weeks."

"Why'd you even do that?"

"Because I fell in love with her. I was scared she didn't feel the same. So I distanced myself and looked for someone to start a relationship with. That's why I met Elise."

"Clay... you're an idiot."

"I know."

Turning, Wilbur looked at Y/n. She was halfway finished with her meal. Everything was going great, she seemed so happy just to be able to talk with two friends. It seemed like the best time to spring the idea on her.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Wilbur?"

He bit his lip, glancing at the man sitting on the other side of the table. George gave a brief nod, knowing what was going to happen next. "George and I had an idea we'd like to share with you."

"What is it?"

"You know how you've been talking about how you've always wanted to visit us in London?"

"Yeah..."

Wilbur paused, looking back at George for a second. "Well, we were thinking... I have a free room in my place. Why don't you spend one of two months with me just to see how you like London?"

Y/n's face lit up. "That sounds great, Wilbur. I... wow. That sounds so fun!" She paused, her smile disappeared. "But what about my house? I can't just abandon it for a month."

Wilbur bit his lip, 'Shit.'

"Clay can stop by once a week, just to make sure everything's fine. I'm positive he'll do it for you," George was quick to jump into the conversation. As soon as he mentioned Clay, Wilbur shot him a look. Y/n tensed at the sound of his name.

"Listen Y/n, you don't have to do it. Just keep the idea in mind, you can give me an answer before George and I leave."

"Okay..." Y/n bit her lip, looking at her food. She knew the only right answer was yes, but it was going to be hard to talk to Clay about this. "I think... I think I wanna do this. I wanna go with you guys."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but... just give me some time to think it over."

"We're always here for you, Y/n. No pressure." Wilbur placed a hand on Y/n's. He wanted her to come to London, everything would be better. He cared a lot about Y/n, he really did. He just wanted to see her happy.

"I just want her to be happy," Clay let out a sigh, opening the refrigerator door. His eyes skimmed over what there was, he had gone grocery shopping the other day to plan for today. He still wasn't hungry.

"Everything's gonna get-" Nick paused, he was interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone ringing. There was a moment of silence as the blonde closed the refrigerator, approaching his phone on the kitchen counter.

"It's Y/n."

"What?"

"Do I pick it up?" Clay glanced at his friend.

"yes, yes, yes! Do it!"

Clay was quick to pick up the phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Clay."

"Hey, Y/n."

"Do you..." she paused, "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Yeah, I can talk." Clay leaned against the counter, listening to her intently. It had only been a few days, but he missed her voice. He could tell she was down.

"I know this seems like the wrong time to be asking for favors and everything, considering everything that has happened this last week. But... I need your help with something." She paused again. He could tell she was hesitating, as though something was keeping her back. "I think I'm gonna be gone for a while. And I just need someone to check up with my house every couple of days. Could you do that? It's fine if you don't want to, it was a stupid idea of me to ask you anyways-"

"No, yeah. Of course, I'll check up on your house for you, Y/n." He was quick to cut her off. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she couldn't turn to him for help anymore. "And it's not stupid of you to ask me. I'll always be here if you need something or need help."

She scoffed, "You weren't there for me these past few weeks." She stopped herself again for the third time. "I'm sorry, that was really bitchy of me."

"I deserved it," he could only chuckle. Y/n was still herself. "But yeah, is there anything else you need... or want to talk about?"

"I... no. No, that's it. I guess I'll talk to you... eventually."

"Alright," Clay fought back the urge to let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll see you." Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone. He didn't know what to expect next, he wasn't even sure whether this was a step in the right direction or not.

Staring at the box, Y/n felt herself tear up for the hundredth time this week. This was going to be a hard task to complete, but it was going to help her let go.

Walking around the house, Y/n picked up item by item. Anything that belonged to Clay was going in the box. A few t-shirts, a couple of CDs she stole, one of his coffee cups. Y/n wasn't even sure how the cup had gotten to her house, but she knew it belonged to Clay. All of her coffee cups matched, all the same color and shape. But... this one cup had shown up in her pantry one day. Every time Clay had spent the night, he'd start the morning off with a cup of coffee, only using that cup.

At this point, Y/n was picking up items that held too strong memories of him. The box had quickly filled, it felt strange. It seemed like she had just lost a chunk of her house. Of her life. This needed to happen. This was the only way they'd be able to keep their friendship.

Y/n had agreed to come to London with Wilbur, she was finally fully on board. Two suitcases sat by her front door as she waited for Wilbur and George to arrive. She would only be in Florida for a few more hours, she needed to give this box back to him. Maybe she could just say screw it, leave it here under her bed, hidden away. So when she'd return she'd be comforted by his shirts and hoodies, she'd listen to his songs and cry.

No. She couldn't do that. If she did that she wouldn't be letting go of everything. Y/n needed closure, it'd be the best for them both and she knew it. Pulling her out of her thoughts, Y/n heard a knock on her door. It was time.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur." Y/n smiled, embracing her friend in a hug as soon as she opened the door.

"George is in the car. We got coffee too." Wilbur looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her waist, holding her close. "You're positive you want to do this?"

"Yes, I need to."

"Alright, then. I'll support you with whatever decision you make." He finally stepped aside, moving to grab her suitcases. Y/n grabbed the box, she had moved it into the hallway before greeting Wilbur. With one more glance, she looked down her hallway before closing the door. As soon as her home was locked up, Y/n had dropped her keys into the box. This was going to be the final step before London. Giving it all back.

George and Y/n greeted each other, Y/n giving him a quick hug before entering the car. The rest of the time, the car ride was quiet. There was obviously going to be tension. On their way, Y/n kept thinking to herself about what she was going to say. What if she fucked it all up? What if they broke out into another fight?

"Here we are."

Y/n sucked in a breath, looking over at the familiar house. This was the final step.

"Y/n, do you need either of us to walk up with you?" Wilbur spoke, he noticed the way she looked at the house.

She shook her head. "No, I got this..." Stepping out of the car, there were only a few words she'd repeat to herself. 'This is the final step. This is the final step. This is the final step.' It felt like it took forever for her to reach his porch.

As soon as she was face to face with the wooden door, she was quick to hit the doorbell. She just wanted to get this over with, fast. A few moments passed, and just as she reached to hit the doorbell again, she stepped back. The door was opening.

"Y/n?" Clay yawned, his hair was a mess. It was obvious she had just woken him up. "What are you-"

"It's time for me to go now. I'm sorry for waking you up. Here are my keys and a few of your items in case you wanted them while I was-"

"Woah, woah, woah." He interrupted her, rubbing his eyes. "Slow down, you're talking fast. You're leaving? Right now?"

"I..." she sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"And this..." he looked down at the box in her hands. "They're all mine?"

"Yeah, that's kinda the whole point." She gave him a look, "Considering the box says your name."

"Alright... thank you," he nodded, carefully picking the box up from her. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I have to go."

"Why?"

"Because of us, Clay. It'd be better for both of us. We need time apart. We have so much going on in each other's lives. I just need a break."

He watched her, she looked close to tears. Without thinking, Clay pulled his friend into his embrace, holding her close. "I understand. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here."

"Thank you."

The hug was short, Y/n was the first to pull away. As soon as it was over, she muttered a quick goodbye, hurrying back to the car. When the car door shut, Wilbur was quick to jump to asking questions.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? You're completely sure you want to do this?"

"I'm fine, Wilbur."

"Alright, I just wanted to check." Wilbur paused, looking out the window. "Y/n, would you mind if George and I said our goodbyes to Clay?"

"Go ahead, I'm not the boss of you."

Sitting in the car alone, Y/n got a moment to catch her breath and stop the tears from forming. She did it. She completed the final step. She could do whatever she wanted now. The moment alone in the car felt short, George and Wilbur were back in the car in what felt like seconds. Only, Wilbur sat in the back with Y/n, George driving by himself.

"You ready, Y/n?"

"More than anything." Y/n looked at Wilbur, the way he smiled at her just felt... good. Looking down, she noticed Wilbur gently grabbing her hand in his. She smiled, things were going to start getting good for her, she knew it.

"Wow okay, now I just feel like a driver for you two." George shot a dirty look in the mirror.

"A bad driver," Y/n grinned at her friend. "Start moving, Mr. colorblind." "If I get a ticket for running a red light, I'm blaming you."

With a yawn, Y/n opened her eyes. She had another good night of sleep, it had been weeks since she had a bad night of sleep. For eight months, she had lived in London. At this point, her house in Flordia was sold to a family of three, and she was no longer flatmates with Wilbur. Instead, she was his girlfriend.

Turning over, she faced the beautiful brunette. He was still asleep. She owed him everything. She was now an influencer because of him, he had helped her set up her YouTube channel and introduced her to the fans. He thought it'd be a good job for her, considering how she was a social butterfly and carry conversations.

Clay and Y/n didn't interact as much as they use to. They'd interact on the Dream SMP and over social media. But it was rare for them to speak in private. The only way their relationship got better was by them distancing themselves. What was a beautiful friendship had turned into an acquaintanceship. Clay was still dating Elise, but it seemed like things weren't going the best and there were signs of him planning to break up with her soon.

Wilbur peeked an eye open, looking at his girlfriend. "Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

Y/n smiled, she knew she was right. Everything got better for her. After all, When the rain ends, there will always be a rainbow.

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buckyjamess-archive · 4 years ago

Text

chocolate chips & babies

a/n: hello @onceuponadetectivedemigod I'm your secret Santa for the Get down give joy event! This is my first time participating in such thing. I absolutely loved the things you requested & this is where I ended up, I hope you enjoy it! also, sorry for not sending so much anons; I didn't know what to ask :')

pairings: ben hardy x reader

warnings: fluff town baby, call your dentist in advance. Dad!ben needs a warning on its own.

wordcount: 1.4k+

summery; Christmas with the Jones' is never the same.

"Daddy, this one has Santa in it."

Ben looks down at his daughter, Emily, shaking another snow globe in her purple gloved hands. Blonde hair flowing from underneath her purple hat. Rosy cheeks and the tip of her nose red.

"No, you're joking?"

Kneeling down to his daughter's height, he catches the globe from her tiny hands and examines it closely. How the snow floats around Santa, the Christmas tree and the tiny snowman.

"It sure is Santa," Ben smiles at his daughter "we need to find mum and your brother, okay?"

Emily nods her head and watches how her dad sets the snowglobe back on the shelf, amongst all others she enjoyed. Ben gets back on his feet and reaches for her hands, which wraps around his finger.

Making their way out of the little corner store and out on the cold streets of London, Ben finds himself and his daughter in a mob of people.

People desperately trying to find that one last, perfect gift for under the tree. People trying to get the last turkey from the store a few blocks down. People arguing. People yelling--

Oh the joys of Christmas.

"C'mon, sweetheart."

In a swift move, Ben raises Emily off the ground and holds her tight against his side. Her arms wrapping around his neck.

"Where's mummy?"

"I don't know," ben mumbles, subtly pushing past the group of arguing women "but we'll find her."

"We have too," Emily states as a matter of fact "we were going to bake cookies."

"Yeah, did mum promise you that?" Ben asked curiously.

Emily nods her head "with hot chocolate."

It can't be hard to find you, right? A woman he came to love so dearly, walking around with his son, his carbon copy, sporting a seven month baby bump under a layer of clothes..not that difficult, if the streets weren't packed as if every store decides to give things away for free.

Christmas with the jones..never the same.

"Maybe Santa can give me the snow globe."

"Maybe he will sweetheart."

You push the stroller back and forth in the hopes to make your over emotional toddler sleepy and though he's dozed off minutes ago, you can't be too sure and stop it.

Noah his rosy, chubby cheeks are squished as his head rests against the metal of the stroller. Quiffs of blonde peeking from under his red and blue, fireman Sam hat. Clutching onto a stuffed rabbit he'd gotten from his big sister.

You rub over your still and seemingly never growing bump when little miss Jones causes a ruckus. Honestly, you're still surprised she hasn't broken any of your ribs or caused any internal bleeding,

something you'd not had experienced yet, Emily and Noah were the easiest babies you'd seen among your friends, just like their dad, not only in looks but in manners but something tells you this little babe is going to be your carbon copy.

Sitting down on the stone bench, your feet ache. A sigh leaving your lips when your son starts to shift in his stroller the second you stop moving it.

Home, that's all you want at this moment. Gather your little family, walk home and heat up with some hot chocolate underneath the Christmas tree while watching a movie. Underneath a thick fluffy blanket preferably.

Only if you didn't lose your husband in the madness called the great Christmas depression. Maybe it was a bad idea to do some Christmas shopping last minute after all.

The cold England weather sends a shiver down your spine and you tuck the blanket further up Noah's body, carefully to not wake him up.

The familiar sound of the voices belonging to those of your husband and daughter catches your attention. You stand up, looking around the bush streets and it takes a while before you spot the two blondies.

You wave in the hopes they see you and they do as Emily points into your direction.

"It's a madhouse." Ben grumbles when he reaches you "lets head back home."

"Gladly." You mumble back.

The walk home isn't long. You've rarely left the block. You've walked this route a hundred times, ten minutes at last but with the ache in your feet and back, it made it look like hours but with Emily pushing the stroller, it gave Ben the opportunity to snake his arm around your back, helping you to find some sort of relief.

"This is the last kid, Jones." You complain "unless you're planning to carry them."

"Don't think I'm able to be such an amazing human being," ben chuckles "I'm just a man."

"This one better look like me."

You watch Emily, carefully pushing the stroller with her little brother around. Nearly reaching the handles, even on her tiny toes but peeking around it to make sure to go straight.

Both carbon copies of their daughter.

"I'm sorry love, can't help it. My genes are stronger."

"Mate, calm down." Ben laughs when he pulls his son hand away from the batch of cookie batter "when's the last time we fed you."

You're seated at the breakfast bar, nursing a hot chocolate, like you imagined minutes ago.

Emily stands tall on her step, flour covering nearly every inch of her body, rolling batter into small balls, licking her fingers clean once in a while.

Noah on his knees on the kitchen counter, anything edible disappearing into his mouth whenever he can get his hands on it.

Ben stands behind him, able to pull his son back whenever it's needed. Hand gripping the back of Noah's shirt.

"Grandma says you get sick from eating it." Emily says, looking back from Ben to you and back "chickens will grow in your stomach because the eggs are raw."

"Did she?" Ben raises his brow as he looks at his daughter, mouthing a 'What the hell?' In your direction

"Is it true?"

"No honey, grandma is crazy." You say "You can get sick from it, so don't eat too much."

"Do you want some?"

She holds out a ball of dough in your direction. A smile reaching her ears, showing off her pearly whites

"No, the baby doesn't like it." You refuse but give her the same warm smile she's giving you.

She turns back to her dad, holding out the same piece but when Ben refuses it too, she sets it in the tray in front of her, pushing it down with her hands.

"I will make cookies for all of you!" Emily cheers "even for Santa!"

"That's a good idea love," Ben smiles, "Maybe he'll get you that snow globe."

"Yes!"

The two of you share a smile but it falters fast when Noah gets a hold of the bag of chocolate chips, nearly stuffing his mouth with a hand full.

"Mate, you need to calm down." Ben states "he's got that from you."

"As if you didn't eat my last candy bar, Jones."

"Go easy on your mum or you'll be the last one."

You roll your eyes at Ben, his face close to your bump. The lights of the Christmas tree and the fairy lights illuminating the features on his face.

With the two rascals all tucked in and sound asleep, it's just you, Ben and the little bean. A moment you'll forever cherish, a moment that rarely happened.

"So, if you want a brother or sister-"

"Ben, please," you chuckle "I don't want to think about another kid right now. She's not even born yet."

Ben sits back up right and rests his feet on the coffee table, laying his arm on the couch behind you "What about a football team?"

"I'll personally give you a vasectomy."

"I'm joking." Ben throws his head back, nearly causing a whiplash as he lets out a laugh

"I'm not tough." You smirk at him "I love you but I'm not going to care a football team, find yourself another wife if you have too."

"I would never."

Ben kisses your temple and places his hand back on your stomach and if on queue, the little bean kicks up against his hand.

"Already a daddys princess." Ben jokes "three girls to fight for my attention."

You raise your brows and fake a smile "Oh, I'll always fight for your attention."

"These mood swings really getting to you this time, huh?" Ben chuckles "Where's the Christmas spirit?"

You huff and lean back on the couch, throwing your legs in Ben's lap. Without thinking, Ben reaches for them, massaging away the ache in them.

"We've to make sure we feed these kids," Ben says "look at our poor son."

Tough it's a little hectic and a bit chaotic and, ben wouldn't want his family to be any different.

#getdowngivejoy #get down give joy #hope you like it!#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy imagine #Ben hardy

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buckyswheezes · 4 years ago

Text

Cruel Summer (Pt. 1/2)

Premise: Steve was 7, Bucky was 6, and you were 4 when you became family. And it was in the summer of your last year in high school when things started to change.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes / What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

author's note: First of all, this did not go the way I planned it to. Second, I was wrong; this isn't one-shot but a two-shot fic. Finally, I hope you guys like it. Again, @lokisblackwidow's post made me do this. Sorry if it's different from what you expected it to be.

warning: this fic contains cursing, sexual shit, and incest. Read at your own risk

It's been 15 years since your family moved to New York to start anew. The concrete jungle, skyscrapers, and bustling broadway shows were a stark contrast to California's tropical and easy-going nature. You were too young, though, to notice such things because you were just three years old at the time and mostly spent your time confused because you haven't seen your mom in a long time.

It's only been dad and your brother Steve for weeks now, and both didn't know how to tie your hair the way you like or read those bedtime stories you loved so much. Years later, you finally realized why -she died. The next thing you knew, you have a new mom and a new brother. It's been that way since.

"How's the college application going?" Steve's gruff voice came from the ongoing Facetime.

"I haven't had my breakfast. Can I please have my breakfast first?" You replied, annoyed. You didn't want to be reminded of that first thing in the morning. You slumped down on the seat beside your mom, and she handed you a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Thanks, mom," You muttered.

Your dad sat on the other side of the table, flipping through the day's paper, and beside him sat Bucky, stuffing his face with bacon, completely ignoring the chaos around him. The empty seat beside him was where Steve sat (when he's home, that is, which was rare nowadays), but the tablet with his huge face plastered in it was placed on the space on the table, so it felt as if you were all still having breakfast together.

"Ooh, someone's grumpy."

"I'm gonna beat your ass when you get home." You threatened.

"Well, joke's on you 'cause I'm not."

"You're not?" Mom frowned.

Steve shifted to look at her. "I took a summer course this year, Biostats. It'll help with my thesis."

"You sure you're not just fonduing with Maryland girls in the summer?"

"Shut up, Buck. You're the playboy in the family, not me."

"Alright, boys!" Your mom chastised then turned to Steve again. "Well, you take care, and if you need anything, just give us a call."

"Will do."

Steve attended Johns Hopkins University -unarguably one of the best universities in America when it comes to Medicine. He'd always wanted to be a doctor, and even though he never said it, you knew it was because of your biological mom. He could've gotten into Harvard, but like you, Steve itched to get out of New York for a change of environment. It was only Bucky who didn't want to go anywhere, and so he attended NYU.

You love New York, no doubt about that. You grew up exploring its Burroughs, and the Central Park had been a staple in your formative years, but lately, you just wanted to get away from all of it. Recently, something changed, and you convinced yourself that it was because it's your last year in high school and you will be going to college soon.

But you knew there was something else. Well, maybe it was also because you turned 18 early this year, you're legal now, and with your going to college on the other side of the coast, you were excited to have a bit of freedom. CalArts was your first choice, being into Performing Arts and all that. Now, your parents weren't painfully strict, but being the youngest and only girl in the family, they couldn't help but be a little protective.

When Steve went to Baltimore two years ago, you were quite relieved. You get it; you're his only sister, but the way he used to hover around and scare away boys grated your nerves. You were just thankful that by sophomore year, he was gone. He'd passed on the mantle to Bucky, but he didn't really care -well, not as much as Steve did.

"Dad, don't forget you're picking me up later after school. I can't be late for my rehearsal." You reminded. Across the table, your old man's jaw dropped.

"I'm sorry, honey, was that today?"

"Uhh yeah, you forgot already?"

"Sorry, it slipped my mind, honey. How about you pick her up, Buck?" He turned to your step-brother.

"What?!" You shrieked in unison.

"I can't. I have stuff to do." He whined. You roll your eyes at his lame excuse.

"No, it's fine. I'll just ask Peter to come with me."

"Who's he, your new boyfriend?" Bucky spat.

You glared at him across the table. "No, he's not. I don't even have a boyfriend; you and Steve made sure of that." You downed the last of your coffee before shooting daggers at him once more. "Don't pick me up. Go do your stuff."

"Bucky…" It was mom's turn to speak.

"Fine!" He grumbled.

————

"Bye, Peter. See you around!" You stood up from the bench where you and your friend sat as soon as you saw Bucky drove up the school's entrance.

You don't know what your step-brother's problem was, but lately, he'd been nothing but irritable and annoyed, especially with your presence. You didn't wait for him to call you, so you jogged as quickly as you could across the schoolyard, silently climbing on the passenger seat as soon you reached where he pulled over.

You cast a wary glance at him; he didn't speak to you since you got on. He didn't even acknowledge your presence. His jaw was set, and he was intent on ignoring you, it seems, for the duration of the ride.

You and Bucky weren't always like this. You two were close; you played a lot when you were kids, you built forts, you wrestled, you chased each other with whatever gooey stuff you put your little hands on. Over the years, he became distant. You'd started to feel distant when Bucky and Steve entered junior high -you just couldn't relate to the stuff they talk about anymore. You're still very close with Steve, but with Bucky, he just drifted further away, especially when you entered high school. Bucky was only two years ahead, so you always saw him around during your freshman year. He was very popular, it seems. Senior girls used to befriend you in hopes of getting close to your step-brother.

You couldn't take it any more of his animosity, so you fully faced him, shifting in your seat. "Have I done something wrong, Buck?"

He looked at you incredulously for a second before turning his attention back on the road.

Annoyed at his lack of response, you hit his shoulder with your fist.

"What the hell y/n! I'm driving. Do you want us to die?!" He growled.

You retreated back to your seat, feeling remorseful for a second. Only for a second, then you burst out crying. "I hate you! I wish you're not my brother!"

You heard him chuckle, but he obviously wasn't amused. "Yeah, wish you weren't my sister too."

———

Bucky was in his last year in high school when he noticed it. He was waiting outside the school library because you said you needed to borrow a book before the two of you go home.

When Steve went off to college, he promised he'd look after you. He noticed firsthand how guys from all grade levels flock to you, hoping they'd catch your attention. Now, Bucky knew what these guys really want, and that's to get in your pants. Over his dead body would he allow that to transpire. So you two always walked home together.

He craned his neck to peek through the giant doors, wondering what's taking you long when he saw you chatting with a guy. His brows furrowed while his lips formed a thin, grim line.

Your smile reached your ears, your eyes glistened in obvious delight, and your cheeks flushed. Your shy gaze was directed at the guy in front of you.

Bucky frowns even more, when the guy ruffled your hair, a gesture that only he has the right to do (he believes). He felt a vein in his head pop in irritation. He felt like punching someone.

"Hey, Buck, let's go!" You chimed, pulling him out of his murderous thoughts.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, that's Stephen. A junior in the dance club." You almost giggled.

"Huh." He scoffed.

The next time he noticed it happen was when he stayed around to watch your cheer dance rehearsals. Your skimpy cheerleader outfit didn't leave much to the imagination; that's why he decided to hover around, ready to pounce on whoever looked at you the funny.

Bucky looked away for a second to glance at his phone when screams filled the schoolyard. The next thing he knew, you were in the air -free-falling. He ran as fast as his feet could take him to catch you, his heart pounding in his ears. Fortunately, someone was there to catch you before you hit the ground.

You fell on top of the guy -Stephen. He gritted his teeth, half-annoyed, half-grateful at the piece of shit. He saw how you stayed on top of him for a few seconds more; furiously blushing. The moment he reached you, Bucky yanked you up and from the guy's body.

"You okay?" He fussed, searching your body for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Buck. Stephen caught me." You bit your lip as you shyly looked back at the guy. "Umm, thanks again."

"Yeah, thanks, man," Bucky grumbled, pulling you away from the group.

The way your body rested on another guy just didn't sit well with him. Once again, he felt like punching someone, and that someone is Stephen. He hated the way the guy was always around you. Bucky was sure what his motive was, and he'll never let him get it.

"I want ice cream." You muttered later that afternoon on your way home.

Bucky scoffed at your request. "What are you, five?"

You stopped walking and faced him, a pout on your lips. "Steve always buys me ice cream."

"Well, I'm not Steve."

"Please, I fell off someone's shoulder and almost hit my head. What if I died?"

"What has that got to do with ice cream?"

"I hate you. You're the worst brother, ever."

Bucky chuckled at your antics; he knew you didn't mean it. You just say that to get what you want because when you were kids, Steve and he used to compete for the Best Brother Award. "Fine." He conceded with a smile. He grabbed your grabbed, and you both ran to the nearest ice cream parlor, ordering one big bowl of banana split sundae and stuffing your faces.

Bucky's whole body tensed when your moans filled your ears. He didn't mind it back then, you were young and innocent, but now, Bucky couldn't ignore the sound spilling from your mouth. Sweat dripped down his nape.

This isn't right.

Your moans seem to ring louder in his ears. The way you licked your spoon clean was not helping his situation either. Bucky thinks about the thin line between sanity and insanity when the chocolate syrup trickled from your lips down to your chin until it reached the supple skin of your neck.

"I need to go to the bathroom." He muttered and hastily jolted from his seat, scrambling away from you. Bucky has a growing problem inside his pants, and he needs to take care of it.

Stop this, Bucky, you need to stop this! His mind chastised while his hands unbuckled his belt. You shouldn't feel this… this way towards her. He's your step-sister. It's wrong.

As soon as he reached his release, he made up his mind. He'll stay away from you; kinda impossible since you both live in the same house, but he'll try his best for both your sakes.

Bucky stopped waiting for you after school. He stopped watching your rehearsals. He stopped helping you with your Math home works and, much to your mom's surprise, he started watching evening dramas with her in the living room every night.

So to answer your question, the one you shot at him when he picked you up from school that day. Yes, you did something wrong.

You grew up. And it's been hard for him to see you as his step-sister ever since.

——————

The last day of school finally rolled in, and you intended to enjoy summer before you start college. What you didn't see coming, though, was being left alone with Bucky for one whole week because your parents are going on a cruise.

"Can't I come with you?" You pleaded, eyes wide as you hauled your mom's baggage into the back of the taxi.

"Sorry, honey. Promise, we'll be back as soon as we can." She replied before giving you a hug.

"Don't leave me here. Bucky's gonna bully me all week."

"He won't, right Bucky?" She raised a brow at him, who stood with his arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"Try not to destroy the house while we're away." Was their final reminder before they went on their way.

Bucky was the first one to get back inside the house. Dread ate up your insides; you two haven't spoken since the car ride. You decided once and for all to get things straight with him. So you marched inside about five minutes later.

Bucky heard you barge in his room, but he remained still -eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. He jolted up when you unceremoniously hit his stomach with a pillow.

"What the hell, y/n?!" He snarled, clearly pissed at your assault.

Your nose flared at his attitude. "What is your problem, James Barnes?" You growled in return.

"Am I the one with a problem here?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I mean!"

Bucky pushed past you; you trailed behind, following his figure towards the living room. He needed to get away from you, fast. It irked him that you wouldn't stay the fuck out of his way. You'd even come and gone into his room. Bucky couldn't take it; he'd go crazy.

"Why are you avoiding me? Bucky!… Bucky! Answer me, damn it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, y/n. So, leave me alone." He was about to reach the door when you threw yourself in front of it, barring his way out. "Move."

"NO! You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." You crossed your arms, planting your feet firmly on the floor. You weren't gonna let this day end without knowing why Bucky acts the way he does. If it was something that you did, then you'd wholeheartedly make it right, but you'll never know if he keeps on brushing you off. So, here you are.

"Y/n, move." Bucky hissed menacingly."

"No, Bucky." You replied in the same manner.

After your brief glaring contest, Bucky finally looked away, sighing in defeat. "Fine. Something's not right, okay? But it's not you, it's… it's… me, so let me handle this myself."

You relaxed and took a step closer to him. "Can't you tell me? I might be able to help."

Bucky looked away. How could he possibly tell you that he's harboring un-brotherly feelings towards you -his step-sister. How could he possibly tell you that you turn him on, that he's having inappropriate thoughts about you for a year now? How could he possibly tell you that he might be falling in love with you?

All those times you spent together when Steve was gone. The times you intently and genuinely listened to his adolescent problems. The times you cheered for him when he played football in high school. You were his number one fan. You were so different from the others, and he hated how it made him look at you differently. He hated when you boys started coming into your life. He always believed that you had a special place in your heart for him, but now he feared that anyone might snatch that place from him. You were his best girl.

Bucky grimaced at his realization. He finally admitted to himself that he is, indeed, falling in love with you. He felt angry at himself. How could he let this happen? He thought he was in control of his emotions.

"Eventually, I'll tell you. But not now." He said softly, hoping you'd let him go.

But you were persistent. "No, Bucky. I want you to tell me now." You demanded.

"Y/n," He growled loudly this time. "Move out of my way!"

"I won't until you tell me."

"Move!"

"Just tell me!"

Bucky's resolve broke. The sirens in his mind went off, but he ignored them as he strode towards you intently. He smirked when your bravado faltered before vanishing completely when he pushed you against the door; your bodies pressed together, making sure you could feel the tent growing against his pants.

Your eyes widened in shock. "Wha-"

"You wanna know why? Huh," He asked through gritted teeth, his face hovered dangerously close to yours that you could feel the hot breath coming through his nose. Bucky didn't give you time to answer because he roughly crashed his lips towards yours. He wasted no time shoving his tongue inside your mouth.

Bucky could feel your hands against his chest, pushing him away. He could hear the muffled pleas of protest as he relentlessly assaulted your mouth. His lips left yours only to find themselves on your neck, sucking on your skin.

"Bu.. Bucky.. stop.. s-s-top." Tears cascaded down your cheeks, but you were frozen in spot, unable to wipe them away.

But Bucky ignored your appeal. He continued sucking your skin while his hands traveled your side, feeling you up. When he couldn't get enough of you, he bit the skin on your shoulder.

You yelped in pain. "Stop! Stop, get off me!"

Still, Bucky did not listen. Dissatisfied with his actions, he dragged and threw you towards the couch; he straddled over you, your hands pinned on the cushion. You squirmed beneath him, trying to escape his hold.

Bucky pulled your shirt up and found his lips back on your skin again; this time, he latched on your erect nipple and sucked as if his life depended on it. When he was done abusing both your buds, he moved to kiss your lips again, but your tear-stricken face met his eyes.

Bucky went stiff as a board, and you used that opportunity to push him, backing off as far as you can from him. Your loud sobs filled the house as you sank to a pool at your feet, hugging your knees to yourself.

You couldn't believe what your step-brother had done. Your mind couldn't begin to fathom his actions.

Bucky sat motionless, his horror-struck at his deed. He bit back the long line of profanities that ran inside his head as he stared dumbfounded at your crumpled figure.

A painful pang of guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. What had he done?

"Y/n.. I-I'm… I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He said and scrambled out of the house.

Bucky didn't come home for three days while you spent it in a daze.

Bucky kissed you; he put his tongue inside your mouth. He touched you in your private parts. He sucked on your nipple while you lay beneath him. He held you like a lover would.

But he was your brother; why would he do that?

The sound of the front door opening pulled you out from your thoughts. Your gaze met Bucky's; he had dark circles around his eyes, and you wondered briefly whose house he crashed when he didn't come home.

"Bucky…" You stood from the couch and approached him.

Bucky liked that about you. You were brave and face things head-on; you're not one to back down, just cause you were scared. But he doesn't think he could handle you right now, not after what he's done. He walked past you, intent on ignoring you.

"After what you did, I at least deserve to know the truth, don't you think?"

Your words hit home. You were right; you deserved at least that much. Sighing, he turned back and sat down on the couch.

"I know this is downright wrong, but I'm in love with you, y/n," Bucky confessed softly, and he heard your small gasp.

"But, we're… I'm your sister."

"step-sister," He corrected. "I can't help it. I love you more than a step-brother could love his step-sister. I love you as a woman y/n. I tried to stop it, but it was hard."

You deserved to know the truth no matter how disgusting, condemning, or how sinful it was.

"I am still trying." Bucky continued, and this time, he gave you a firm look. "And I need, need you to help me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What do you want me to do, Buck?"

"Stay away from me."

You pulled back in shock. "But-"

"No buts!" He hissed. "Can't you see how hard this is for me? You think it's easy to stay away from you when I love you?" He pleaded. "After this, I want you to stay away, don't talk to me unless it's a life or death situation."

"Mom and dad will notice."

"Then don't make them notice." He got up and approached you, then reached for your hand, clasping them together. "Please, y/n, you have to."

With a heavy heart, you nodded. Bucky moved and gave you a quick peck on the forehead, and it felt like goodbye.

Weeks quickly flew by, fortunately for the both of you, your parents didn't notice a thing. You bickered like you used to during breakfast, but both of you knew that it was forced. When they weren't around, which was much since both of them worked, you barely talked to each other and were barely left alone in the house.

Bucky spent most of his time playing basketball -his new hobby to get his mind off you. He's always gone during weekends playing with his college friend Sam Wilson. You saw the guy once when Bucky invited him to dinner with your family. After that, Sam can frequently be seen in the house. Your parents were cool with it since Steve didn't come home for summer.

One afternoon, Sam was there again; you could hear their banter all the way up to your room. However, what really bothered you though was the presence of a woman -Sharon. She's Bucky and Sam's classmate in one of their class, and along with Sam, she started hanging out at your house.

You groaned, annoyed. You couldn't focus on the application essay you were supposed to write with that woman's shrill voice downstairs. You slammed your fist against your study table, intent on giving the three a piece of your mind. You stood up and marched downstairs, catching their attention.

Sharon sat between Sam and Bucky, and they were pretty occupied with a mobile game before you came.

"Can you guys keep it down? You're not the only people in the house."

"Oops, sorry, y/n." Sharon squeaked.

"We'll keep it down," Sam promised.

You just nodded before glaring at Bucky, who did not even acknowledge your presence. You grumbled something before storming back to your room, slamming the door close.

Sharon and Sam ended up having dinner with them again. With Sharon seated beside Bucky, again. Your mom told them to drop by again. And, Bucky walked Sharon home, again.

And you were getting tired of this. You wanted to help Bucky, but you can't just sit back and watch him replace you with someone else. No, you can't allow it. This has to stop.

You waited for Bucky to come home; you were in his room sitting on his bed with a determined look on your face.

As soon as Bucky stepped inside, he was shoved against the door, making it slam close. He winced at the pain on his back, but he was startled and shocked when he felt your lips connect with his in a searing kiss. His first instinct was to push you away, but his desire got the better of him. His eyes slipped close, and he kissed you back passionately.

Bucky's thoughts were in a haze as both your lips danced with each other. It didn't take long for him to invade the warmth of your mouth, fingers tangling themselves into your hair, while your hands curled around the front of his shirt, trapped between your heated bodies.

"Why," He moaned before pulling away.

Your ragged breaths filled the room; you looked at him with glistening eyes. "I don't care anymore, Bucky. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to be replaced by Sam or Sharon or anyone else." A tear escaped your eye, and it cascaded down your cheek.

Bucky leaned down and kissed it away, the salty taste lingering in his tongue.

"I want you back, Bucky."

Bucky felt a painful tug on his heart at the sight. He loves you, but he was also the one making you cry. He cannot bear the thought of hurting you. He caressed your cheek and gazed at you lovingly, longingly.

"You're making this hard for me, y/n. For the both of us."

You shook your head once more and pulled his face close to yours. "I don't care anymore, James Barnes. Love me any way you want, just don't… don't leave me again."

Bucky froze at your words. He pulled away then grasped both your shoulders. "Y/n, you don't know what you're saying."

"I do. I'm not a child anymore. I want how we used to be; if accepting your love could get things back to the way it was, I accept it.

Bucky shook his head. "No,…no y/n, nothing will ever be the same if you let me love you the way I want to."

Your face visibly fell at his words. Feeling hopeless, you asked. "Why?"

"Why?" Bucky asked back softly. "Because unlike then, I'll kiss you more like this…" He started and gave you a sensual kiss on the lips. "I'll hold your hand like this…" His hand went to yours, and he intertwined your fingers.

"We used to do that when we were kids."

Bucky just hummed in response. "And I'll pull you close to me like this…" He continued and did just as he said. He pulled you against his heated body and inhaled your scent. "And you'll always ignite that burning feeling inside me, y/n. So, unless you get used to these things, I will not let you do this."

"But we used to do some of those."

"It's going to be a lot different now."

"I don't care. I'm used to it. In fact, I miss it. Don't ever leave me again, Bucky, please. I love you so much."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise. He could feel the rapid beating of your heart against his. He pulled you in once more for a passionate kiss.

"I love you too, y/n. You don't know how much you make me happy."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #james buchanan barnes #au bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic

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high-functioning-lokipath · 4 years ago

Text

SH - Sherlock & Mycroft Friendship/Brotherly Bonding - Prompt: Holmes brothers as kids, Myc being a good brother, playing the deduction game. - Words: 1,715

WARNING: MYCROFT IS A BIT NOT GOOD AT THE BEGINNING. THIS IS NOT MYCROFT HATE THO! ALSO, DEVIL CHILDREN WHO DON'T LIKE SHERLOCK MAKE AN APPEARANCE. IT DOES END WELL THOUGH.

That being said, I guess I should add a Trigger Warning for bullying.

I do hope you enjoy the story! Let us know!

"You simply are not trying hard enough, Sherlock! It's quite obvious!" Mycroft yelled. The Holmes brothers were standing in the living room in 221B. Mycroft had decided to pay his brother an in-person visit rather than just turning on the security camera he'd installed. Sherlock had decided to ask Mycroft to play the deduction game with him over a cup of tea. Sherlock was rarely so cordial with Mycroft thus Mycroft was, not that he'd admit it, concerned that something was wrong. He realized he'd miscalculated greatly (again, he'd never admit that) when, only an hour later, a shouting match had ensued.

"Really? Obvious? You're bloody insane, Mycroft! That solution is simply not possible!" Sherlock yelled, dressing gown swishing dramatically as he waved about.

"Look at the facts little brother. We've eliminated the rest. And what do we say about what remains?" Mycroft attempted to bring his voice back down to it's normal, placating, patronizing tones.

"Must be the truth," Sherlock replied, hanging his head low as he finally came to rest on the couch. Mycroft briefly, and rather guiltily, pictured Sherlock as a whipped puppy tucking its tail between its legs. He hadn't intended to hurt his brother so, but the damage was done.

'Nothing worse than past fights,' Mycroft thought. 'He'll recover in a few hours.' He decided not to reconcile at the moment as that could quite easily be taken as caring. 'Sherlock knows I care about him, I just don't want to appear too soft,' Mycroft justified mentally.

"Very good, Sherlock," He said aloud. "I understand you couldn't see it my way today. Perhaps one day you'll be able to think clearly about things." Mycroft turned to walk away. "Perhaps once your brain recovers from your last overdose. Maybe then it will return to acceptable functionality."

'Why did I tack that last jab on?' Mycroft wondered. 'Perhaps I really am becoming too calloused.' He shrugged off the thoughts for the moment as he got in his usual black limousine for the ride home.

Back in 221B, Sherlock sat crying on the sofa for some time. Soft whimpers of "Myc" fell from his lips occasionally. Eventually, he fell asleep, although not a restful one.

"William! Come outside! It's a perfect day to explore!" Sherlock's mind palace had conjured up the memory he was trying so hard to forget. He saw everything so clearly though. Mycroft, still as proper as ever, yet this Mycroft was more free, more innocent. About 14 years old and just under 5' 7", Mycroft had already adopted most of the personality that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Sherlock was seeing his memory as though it was a movie he could walk through. He didn't see it from his 7 year old point of view. Rather, he watched on the sidelines. He looked around and found himself in the backyard of their childhood home. Mycroft was examining a particularly bright patch of flowers by the corner of the house. Some of them had been crushed, others torn up.

'The old tabby cat,' Sherlock remembered fondly. 'Mrs. O'Malley did always let that cat wander too much.'

"I'm coming, Mycie!" Sherlock heard behind him. Turning about he saw himself, right at 4' tall, running out of the house to join his brother.

"Tell me, William," Mycroft said. "How do you think these flowers were destroyed?"

"The old tabby cat, Mycie! That's easy! Find me something harder!" His 7 year old self exclaimed. Mycroft smiled approvingly and patted little Sherlock's shoulder.

'I can't seem to recall why he ever stopped calling me William,' Sherlock thought. Shaking his head in his dream, he chuckled silently. He knew he would remember, but his mind was attempting to fool him.

"Timothy Lexington," Mycroft called out, tossing a frisbee to young Sherlock. He caught it absently, brows drawn together in thought.

"Blond and blue, 19, 5' 9", science class, held back a year," Sherlock replied, throwing the disk back with a smug grin.

'The original deduction game!' Sherlock thought with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sitting on the grass, he settled in to watch.

Mycroft had gotten into the habit of having Sherlock deduce his classmates to the nth degree.

"Why was he held back?" Mycroft quizzed, returning the frisbee.

"Cheating," Sherlock replied, about to throw it back. "Wait," he paused. "Cheating and skipping class." With every throw, Mycroft would ask a question or name a person, and with every catch, Sherlock would answer.

"Samantha Hanshaw."

"Red and green, 17, 5' 5", fairly intelligent. Moved ahead 2 levels over the summer." Mycroft was just about to catch the returning disc when Sherlock added, "And she has a crush on you. She likes your intellect." Mycroft completely froze. The frisbee hit him squarely on the forehead, snapping him out of his trance. "Mycroft! Are you ok?" Sherlock yelled, all deductions forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mycroft assured him. "Let's go up front." The two Holmes children ran around to the front yard and Sherlock hurried to catch up. As he was about the round the corner, he noticed a group of boys, about his younger self's age, bicycling down the road.

'Oh,' Sherlock remembered. 'This was it.'

"William! Want to come and play with us?" One boy yelled, coming to a stop in front of the house.

"Can I, Myc? Please?" The younger Holmes asked. Sherlock could see the love and care in Mycroft's eyes. But also the sadness.

"They're no good for you, Will," He whispered, kneeling down to his brother's level. The younger's face dropped, tears welling up in his eyes. Mycroft hesitated briefly, hoping with all his heart he was making the right decision and that his initial readings of those boys were false, and added, "But if you want so badly, I suppose an hour or so wouldn't hurt." Sherlock lit up and hugged his brother around the neck.

"Thanks, Mycie! I'll be good! I'll be back in 1 hour!" Sherlock then ran across their large front yard to the road to meet up with the other boys. Mycroft began to walk into the house when he heard yelling.

"Where's your bodyguard now, William? Think you can just use your brain to get out of this, William?" Mycroft's heart sank. Those scumbags were holding Sherlock down on the pavement, kicking him. "Freak! Weirdo!"

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft bellowed. Sherlock had been struggling, trying to get away from them, but there had simply been too many. The bullies quickly scattered, grabbing their bikes and running off. Mycroft pulled Sherlock onto the grass immediately.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whimpered.

"No, no, William. You don't have to be-"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled. "Never again! If I'm to be a freak, I'll be named as such. Never call me by that name again. Call me Sherlock from now on." Sherlock's face had turned adamant, a preview of his future personality.

"But-"

"Please?" Sherlock begged, face softening once again. Mycroft silently nodded and pulled Sherlock in for a hug.

"Come on inside. Let's get you washed up and have some cake together, hm? Sounds good, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He certainly did not think the name sounded freakish, nor was his brother a freak, but he would, at least for now, make his brother happy.

"Yes, please."

"And Sherlock?" Mycroft continued, pausing his steps. "I'll always love you and I'll always take care of you. I will never hurt you. Never forget that."

Sherlock woke up with a start, gasping and still sobbing a little. His face was sticky with half-dry tears.

"I will never hurt you." Those words echoed in Sherlock's mind. It seemed that these days all Mycroft had done was hurt Sherlock.

'Not that it was really his fault,' Sherlock thought. 'I'm really the cause of it all. Maybe if I could find a triple homicide I could finally make him proud.' Sherlock shook his head. He'd already solved those types of cases. He really didn't know what to do to make his brother happy. Turning over on the sofa, he looked to the abandoned mugs on the coffee table. No doubt, the contents were far past cold so Sherlock got up and took them to the sink. Hearing the door lock click, he readied himself for an intruder since no one else he knew should be coming in at this time of day.

"Sherlock?" He heard a voice call out.

'Mycroft?' Sherlock wondered. 'Why is he here?' Slowly, Sherlock walked out of the kitchen.

"What do you want?" He spat, unintentionally angry.

"I wanted to apologise. I'm sorry," Mycroft said, absolute sincerity showing on his face. Sherlock was surprised beyond words. Mycroft quickly took in his brother's appearance and realized he was responsible for it. Mycroft sighed lightly before continuing, "Lately all we've done is fight. That's not right for brothers. Even arch-nemesis brothers," He said with a smirk. Even Sherlock chuckled at that. Turning serious once again, Mycroft continued, "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry. I-" He paused for a moment, deciding he may not have another chance like this for a while. "I'll always love you, little brother, and I'll always take care of you. I will never intentionally hurt you. Never forget that. I may be harsh sometimes and say things I don't mean when I'm especially frustrated but I'll try to say 'I'm sorry' a bit more."

"I love you too, Mycie," Sherlock replied, hugging his brother tightly. Mycroft smiled fondly at the man who, at the moment, was burying his face in Mycroft's suit jacket. Mycroft hugged Sherlock back.

"I'll always care, William," His brother's name finally felt right again after all these years. "You're never a disadvantage."

"Neither are you, Myc," Sherlock replied with a smile. "But you know you're not allowed to call me that around anyone else. Not even Mummy and Daddy." Mycroft nodded. "Good. Now why don't we stop this emotional madness and finish what we started," Sherlock commanded. To the average person, it would seem Sherlock had gone back to normal. But Mycroft saw the glint in his eyes. "Chocolate cake with whipped icing?" Sherlock offered.

"Of course," Mycroft smiled, taking the plate and sitting again in the living room. "Cluedo?"

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

#sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock holmes #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfic #sherlock oneshot #mycroft holmes #mycroft & sherlock #young!mycroft #teen!mycroft #young!sherlock #kid!sherlock #tw: bullying

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talesofsonicasura · 4 years ago

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Thief's Ambition

Velvet Dilemma

Every thief needs the right tool for any sort of job. But what would happen if one of your resources isn't what they seem to be? Long post. Warning: Suicide Attempt, and mentions of abuse

They say reality and imagination are two sides of the same coin. Reality being ruled by laws and sciences to present what one calls 'normal', a limited perspective. Imagination however, is without restrictions if someone has the willpower to create or dream, limitless potential.

Information or to be specific, Digital Code' held both treats of reality and imagination. Rules to stabilize the unlimited potential of someone's creativity and what could be created is endless. Sometimes, one's design could break those boundaries. The results are determined by the creator. Whether it will lead to paradise or pure ruin. Only they can decide.

Le Blanc, a small but humble shop located in Yogenjaya, Japan. This cafe owned by Sojiro Sakura, is quite famous for their delicious curry, extraordinary coffee and friendly atmosphere. It is also the temporary home of a specific teenager. A young man whose choices can affect the world around him in large ripples. His name was Ren Amamiya.

The boy was around 15 years old, hair was a pitch black nest of curls, eyes a mysterious obsidian that shone brighter through the lens of his false glasses, a soft balance built with some growing muscle to his form, and stood about 5'7 in height. A pure black gakuran fitting snugly on the young man's body paired alongside black pants and nicely made boots as he carried his slightly large gray school bag over his shoulders.

His destination was Le Blanc, taking his time by walking down the sidewalk and glanced around to take in any important details. It didn't seem that anything would catch the boy's eyes since Yogenjaya was more of a rural area. That was until an abnormally tall structure crossed his line of sight.

Not too far from where he was, Ren could make what had to be a hotel. Around 5 stories in height and from how clean it seemed, the place was obviously new. Halfway down the large infrastructure was a soft magenta sign that read: Hotel Nexus. The name rings some bells in his head.

It was a new hotel that recently opened up before he came. Great service, fair prices and quite a selection of accommodations for anyone's price range. He heard some of the teachers and even students at his school raving about it.

Ren didn't really notice that he entered his destination until his nose was greeted to the bitter scent of coffee beans and spice of curry. His caretaker Sojiro Sakura, a rough looking older man with dark brown eyes, black hair in a man bun and beard, was in the middle of serving a few customers. Thus, the teen walked up to his room which was in actuality, a spacy attic.

Placing his bag on the bed, the raven was about to start on his homework when a voice spoke out. "Thy trickster." A soft, suave yet slightly distorted male's nearly made the boy jump if he didn't know who this voice belonged to. Not even the first few days in Tokyo did the teen come across the path of the supernatural.

"We need to have a discussion. Thee might have a problem." The voice explained much to Ren's utter confusion. If by instinct, the raven took off his glasses and held it out. Blue flames suddenly manifested on the frames, sparks spewing out to the attic floor in 5 different spots before the fire extinguished.

Each spark burned brighter as they grew in size but didn't spread across the wood surface like any normal fire. The smallest stood barely a foot in size while the largest being a shocking 15 ft all around. Suddenly, the fire sputtered out as five different creatures now sat before the young boy.

A large black horse that had two long teal horns, crimson eyes and white mane, a small brown haired pixie with butterfly wings wearing a blue one-piece and gloves, pink skinned imp with small wings and wore a belt with a large stinger positioned at an inappropriate place, and a jack-o-lantern headed creature wearing a dark blue robe, witch's hat, and white gloves holding a lantern.

The last being was not only large but vastly different from the others. Sitting slightly uncomfortable on the floor was a dapper gentleman-esque black and crimson demon.

Black leathery hide, pitch black mask for a face as fire highlighted the long spindly devil horns than just painting fiery eyes or the wicked smile, razor sharp black claws and angelic ebony wings that spawn from his lower back. The demon's clothing consisted of a black corset tuxedo held tight by red strings, white fancy cravat, a short crimson coat with long sleeves, collar and coattails, red armor mimicking dress pants covered the legs which ended with knife blade heels, and a tall black top hat stitched at the back with red strings.

Despite the five demons sitting before him, Ren wasn't afraid of their presence. After all, why would he be scared of his own Persona and one of the reasons he is still alive? From the information given by various sources, these beings were born from thoughts of man and assist those who awaken or earn their power.

His current Persona team consisted of Bicorn, Pixie, Incubus and Jack-o-Lantern. Ren couldn't forget his main Persona either, the one who answered his call and shared the same rebellion in his soul, Arsene. Seeing all five here meant there was something going on especially from the looks on their face.

Bicorn looked very irate, well, more than he usually was, Pixie was a mixture of concern and worry, Incubus had his arms crossed alongside a large scowl on his face and Jack-o-Lantern looked like he wanted to disappear. The only one who didn't seem upset was Ren's dapper devil, the flames of the mask were in a soft simmer, almost if he was sheepish. Things had to be wrong if the Legendary Phantom Thief didn't have his signature grin.

"Is everything ok? Arsene said you guys wanted to talk about something." The raven politely asked, it may not look like it but Ren did care for his Persona. Although, not all of them were on the same level as his rebel heart but… Out of the bunch, it was Incubus who spoke up.

"Here's the problem boss, none of us are getting fused!" And the teen's train of thought came to a stop like a broken record. "What?" The word just came out of his mouth as if he was on autopilot. Quite a reasonable reaction for when you considered Ren's current situation in full.

Stuck on probation in a foreign place, his future walking towards a foretold path of ruin, the twisted desires of his gym teacher manifesting as a cognitive place and these very creatures before him holding a key to his salvation. That also included fusing them to create a more powerful Persona.

"Normally we don't have any opinions when it comes to fusion. Previous Wild Cards before you had done the process thousands of times. However, this time there's two issues that we cannot accept! And no amount of bribery will change our opinion!" Bicorn huffed, scraping a hoof across the ground.

That actually convinced Ren even more to listen to their problem, especially when he considered the new information given. If there had been others like him, why wasn't he notified? And what was different about the process of Fusion if Persona used to not have an issue?

"Alright. Can you tell me these reasons for omitting fusion from the Velvet Room?" His inquiry seemed to relieve some of the tension for the group of Persona. The teen could only guess it must be rare for Wildcards to tend to their needs. Or it must have been quite a long time since a Persona User like him appeared.

"Sure dee-doo, bossman! First off is the Fusion Methods! Persona are fused in many different ways, some by dancing or even tarot cards. Executions aren't one of them. Despite some Persona being created from evil legends, the fusion tools were always humane and fair for all participants." Jack-o-Lantern spoke up, the fire in his lantern burning brighter with each word.

Ren easily agreed with that reason. His first time actually being able to use the Fusion was a very unsavory experience. At that time, he only had just Arsene and Pixie. To see Igor and his assistants unveil those large guillotines made him feel like he was back at that Palace thing.

Seeing shadows of people being tortured like slaves already made him a bit uncomfortable but the 'Fusion Tools' were enough to leave the room with a poker face just to hide a grimace. "Yeah, I can see your point. Don't know how a guillotine isn't even supposed to do that."

That also raised another question as he had a feeling what the second reason really was. Pixie only solidified that very thought. "Our second reason is the Velvet Room itself, to be precise, Igor himself. You see, out of many Personas, I am usually the one Wildcards tend to acquire first." A look of nostalgia sparked in her eyes.

"This means that I am often fused quite a lot so I've been around Igor. Despite looking a bit crooked, the man has an aura of a gentleman and has this mischievous but kind air around him. Something that makes the Velvet Room comfortable for both Persona and Wildcards but…" A nervous and saddened look was quick to mark the fairy's face.

"...that isn't the Igor we know. This one is cold and has this aura of cruelty hidden underneath. And it's not just him but both Velvet Room attendants feel off too. It's almost if both girls are like broken dolls, scraps of a toy remade into two different copies."

The room went silent for a bit as Ren processed all this information. Persona who's been summoned or recruited a lot, Veteran he'll call it, could feel when something is off with the Velvet Room. It would explain why Arsene didn't seem that bothered unlike the others, since he was new to the whole thing.

Now that the teen thought about it, Igor and his attendants seemed very quick to introduce the Fusion mechanic… too quick. If something was indeed wrong with the Velvet Room, then it would be best to limit his usage. Ren couldn't just stop using it altogether and none of them had issues with the Register/Summon option.

"Alright. I won't use the Velvet Room for fusion. If you guys think the place is off and Igor can't be trusted, then I'll trust your judgement. Problem is, how can I perform Fusions now?" The Persona he had now, excluding Arsene, can't really grow powerful enough to deal with any future Palaces.

Stronger Personas were needed if he was going to avoid this 'ruin'. His main Persona then spoke up. "How about you search for a mage? Thou passed one earlier today." Wait what? Ren looked at the Curse Type with a mixture of disbelief and surprise.

There's a mage, someone who practices actual magic, in bloody Tokyo. Pixie spoke upon her User's look of befuddlement. "Practicers of magic do exist, master Ren. They are rare and tend to stay hidden amongst the locals. You can easily guess why. Some even treat Fusing or Summoning Persona like an exam to know if one is ready for the next level of magic."

The raven haired teen let out an intrigue hum from the explanation. If he can find the mage Arsene sensed earlier then they should be able to help with his Fusion problem. "Where did you sense them anyway?"

Ren couldn't believe the stroke of luck he got. Apparently the person he was looking for happened to be in Yogenjaya, specifically the new Nexus Hotel. Once school was over for the day, he quickly made his way towards the place. It was honestly bigger in person than seeing it from Le Blanc.

Various trees with interwoven branches formed a path to the hotel similar to a green red carpet, two fountains paired with benches on each side of the fountain and the centerpiece was a peculiar statue. An 8 meter giant of scrap metal carefully melded together to form a lizardman wielding a large microphone stand like it was a guitar and on the plaque it stood on read: Welcome to Hotel Nexus.

There are even a few stalls set up for local vendors to rent and sell merchandise. 'This hotel feels like a homey place to stay in. No wonder a lot of people Shujin talk about it.' Ren thought while looking at the large statue with intrigue. He could see a lot of work was put into it from the V shape horns, beak like snout and even intricate design on the stand.

Even a non-artist can see all the work, effort and dedication put into it. "What do you mean it ain't for sale?!" A brutish shout immediately ripped the boy's attention. Obsidian eyes soon look at a scene forming to his side between a large portly man and someone around his age.

The girl had cyan hair with a silver frohawk at center, emerald green eyes bearing black v shaped marks underneath, and a thin elegantly curved body around 5'6 in height. Her clothing consisted of a black shirt, short red long sleeved jacket, dark blue cargo pants and white high tops.

What got Rens attention was the peculiar device hanging around her neck, it looked like one of those pocket pet toys but merged with a walkie talkie. Pure silver with red buttons and a black strap for string. She honestly looked very annoyed.

"It's like I said to your boss a million times before. Hotel Nexus isn't for sale! My family and I worked hard to make this place so no way in hell we're giving it up. I don't give a damn how high the food chain your boss is, the answer will be no!" Ren could practically feel the venom in her words from the fifteen distance.

Something that amused Arsene since the Curse Persona was laughing. 'It seems that fiery young lady is the mage that thou been looking for. Such strong rebellion radiating brilliantly alongside her magic.' The raven continued watching the scene unfold.

He had to agree with Arsene on the fiery term since the girl literally growled at the man before her. "Get outta here and tell your boss he can choke on his own balls!" The poor employee went running off in seconds with his tail between his legs. Adjusting his fake glasses, Ren decided to approach the cyanette once she took a few deep breaths.

Now that he was closer, the young man could see flecks of gold and silver in those emerald eyes as the girl saw him. "Hey there. Sorry if ya saw the commotion. I'm usually more professional but guys like that tend to grind my gears." She then put on a polite smile.

"My name is Hokuto...Shoutmon! One of the owners of Hotel Nexus. What can I do for you?" Ren couldn't lie, that was the oddest last name he heard in his life. Or the fact that her teeth were razor sharp just from the smile given. Knowing it was rude to stare, the raven haired teen spoke.

"My name is Ren and I happen to be new in the area. I was hoping you can answer a few questions for me." Best to have some honesty if he was going to even get the cyanette's trust. Hokuto merely kept a polite look on her face and stayed professional to even her posture.

"Sure, what questions do you have? Need any help finding a room or are you interested in renting a stand? Or is it more personal?" Childlike curiosity brimmed in the emerald eyes of the Nexus' heiress that made Arsene laugh in his human partner's head. 'Might as well answer her, dear Trickster. Can't keep a young lady waiting~'

Ignoring the obvious flirt, Ren decided to be a bit straight forward in his response. "Can you help me with a little school project of mine? I'm supposed to ask people a set of words and how they felt about each one for my psychology class." He even pulled up a pen and paper to make it more convincing.

If she was really a mage, then he had a feeling Hokuto would be more comfortable with masking a risky topic such as this. Plus one class did ask for a Do-Your-Own assignment for homework today. The Shoutmon woman tilted her head a bit, mild confusion crossed her face before shrugging. Didn't seem that bad to her so why not oblige the boy?

"Sure, I don't mind. It's honestly a bit refreshing but I get to choose a few words too. That way it'll be more like a game, and who knows, ya might get some extra credit." Ren nodded his head and had a smirk on his face from Hokuto's unexpected reply. He even had a good word to start with.

"Alright. My first word or to be precise, words is 'Velvet Room'." The cyanette hummed a bit hearing the word. An inquisitive look on her face as she mulled the two words over in her head a bit. It took a few more seconds before she gave an answer.

"Intrigue and wonderment comes to mind but oddly also caution. Something as fancy as 'Velvet Room' has to have something dark or sinister in the undertone. Kinda like the story of Hansel and Gretel with the witch's house being made of sweets." The teen and Persona understood the reason behind that, even if the 'caution' part sounded more instinctual.

Not everything that glitters gold meant was good. "Alright, my turn. The word I choose is Tamer." Hokuto said with a cheery tone. It was his turn to tilt his head at the suspicious pick. Being a Wildcard did fit with the word since Ren had to befriend or 'tame' multiple Persona than just one.

"Adventurous, enlightening and carefulness. Being a tamer means you are potentially risking your life at befriending a living creature that can do harm if you aren't careful. Achieving a bond is also a reward in itself from how much you learn and grow with the experience." The raven haired teen could feel the warmth of his Persona's happiness and admiration blanket his heart.

Hokuto also seemed really happy about his response too, almost if checking something off in her head. "That's one way to say it. Now it's your turn again." Ren already knew what he was going to ask for this round. "Okay. My next word is Persona with a capital P." The cyanette mulled over the peculiar word in her head.

Something about it felt odd, like a primal instinct of sorts but she couldn't really guess why. Placing a hand on her chin, the young woman gave the boy an answer. "Since it sounds like a living creature, I would say wonder and bewilderment. Unknown life tends to bring tons of questions alongside the possibilities of their uniqueness."

Ren hummed at the answer while writing it down on paper. He would admit that he didn't see the next word coming though. "Your next word is Digimon!" Confusion immediately covered the raven haired teen's face. Did he hear that right? Digimon? Was it short for something like 'Digital Monster'?

"Taking a random guess here but the only thing that comes to mind is curiosity. I've never heard of a term like Digimon before and it makes me wonder what the concept truly is. A game or maybe a brand series that's focus is around collectible creatures under the same name."

It was the only reasonable Ren could actually think of. He'd never heard of 'Digimon' before and would have done some research later on. The teen was ready to ask his final question when the sound of a ringtone went off. Hokuto had pulled out her phone, a look of mild horror crossing her face in seconds.

"Seriously?! I'm sorry but I have to cut this conversation short. Got to close off one of the guest bathrooms and call for a repairman!" She quickly turned on the heel of her feet before taking off into the hotel. All Ren could do was blink as his objective was now out of reach.

'An unfortunate setback. However, thou at least have the mademoiselle's location. We would just need to visit another time.' Arsene whispered in the raven's head, the young man let out a sigh. He'll have to make do with the Persona he had for now.

The next day… Ren was sitting in his seat like usual. Getting stared at by most of his classmates and teacher with the appeal of a convict. An irritating normal when you had your criminal record and reason for being transferred thrown out to the entire school as if it was a newspaper.

It also sucked that his teacher, Mr Uchimaru, was an asshole who likes to harass others when they answer one of his surprise questions wrong. Ryuji texting him in the middle of the class and Morgana talking in his bag either. Even if no one could understand the not-cat, they could still hear his meows.

His mind however went to a grinding halt upon the words of his classmates. "There's someone on the roof! Is she going to jump? Suzui Shiho?" Dread immediately filled his heart upon the name. Suzui Shiho was one of the upperclassmen who was being sexually harassed by his current target, the gym teacher Kamoshida.

He was out of his seat in seconds and ran straight for the hallway window for a better look. A better view was needed to see if it really was Shiho. Obsidian eyes widen in absolute horror upon the sight of the brown haired teenager standing at the ledge of the building.

'No… Dear god, please don't…!' The girl jumped off the roof, Ren's heart dropped to his stomach while his classmates screamed. Shiho was about to hit the ground when familiar light blue hair came into sight as someone caught her falling body in time. Ren immediately ran down the halls of the school, to get outside and see if his senpai was alright.

The teen caught sight of Hokuto Shoutmon holding the girl tight to her chest, Shiho was nuzzled into the hotel manager's neck in tears. "Shh. It's alright. Just let it all out. I don't know who hurt you but there are people in this world that still care about ya. Think about them, not ya tormentors."

Hokuto's strong upbeat voice was now a soft comforting whisper while she rubbed the suicidal girl's back gently. Emerald eyes looked into Ren's obsidian ones with mild surprise. It was probably the fact she didn't know he went to school here either.

"Shiho." The raven turned his head to see one of his classmates running towards the two girls. Ann Tamanaki, the platinum blonde girl with green eyes and her hair in two ponytails who was also Shiho's best friend by what he saw from their interactions. The hotel manager turned her head over to the blonde.

"I'm guessing you are a friend of hers? Do you know her parents' numbers? This poor girl needs all the support she can get right now and I need to call the suicide hotline. We were lucky enough that I was able to catch her in time." Hokuto let Ann hold Shiho but not before the pigtailed girl said a grateful teary 'Thank You'.

The cyanette then looked at Ren. "I don't know who broke that poor girl's will but I do know one thing. If that fucker shows their face, I'll do everything in my power to knock em off their pedestal. No one deserves this for another bastard's sick pleasure. They say eyes are the window to one's soul, her eyes are that of a victim on their last string."

Shiho's parents immediately came over along with an ambulance and a few cop cars to check on the frazzled brunette. Hokuto had left after they questioned her on how she even found Shiho. Apparently the hotel manager was heading towards one of the markets nearby, a coincidence that managed to save his classmate's life.

It also meant that Kamoshida needed to be dealt with before someone else breaks. There is the expulsion deadline too, since confronting the man in righteous anger was a dumb idea. Whatever the case, the perverted PE teacher needed his heart changed. And the only solution was the man's castle, nestled in the school's Metaverse.

The Metaverse was a physical plane created through the unconscious cognition of people, a place between reality and imagination. Palaces were an area created from the large distortion in a person's heart, something that reflected a dark mindset. Kamoshida's Palace was that of pure unadulterated lust.

A medieval castle filled with statues of himself or various girls around the skin that displayed their innocence in a perverse manner, echoes of male students were seen as slaves that were beaten meticulously, and the distorted version of Kamoshida flaunt through the castle as it's disgusting lustful king in nothing but a crown, heart shaped boxers and a fluffy red cape.

Through these halls was the key to stopping this man's twisted heart and the consequences to follow if they failed. Within one of the hallways, a large cluster of knights were gathered in a tizzy. Empty blue masks staring at a pile of molten gold, various statues of the Palace's Ruler melting into a golden soup in front of the culprit.

The suspect's body was shadowed by the large blaze behind them. "How dare you destroy the visage of our King Kamoshida?! You'll pay with your life wench!" One of the knights howled as all brandished their large blades. Feminine laughter came out of the figure alongside their appearance, emerald eyes glared down at the mass.

Ren was running as fast as he could, the teen helping a tired Ann with assistance from two others. The clothes the four of them wore were very different from what they wore in the real world, an attire created through the power of their Persona and rebellious souls.

The raven had a white domino mask bearing a black flare around the eyes, long black leather jacket paired alongside a bulletproof black vest, crimson gloves, black Italian leather pants, and black leather boots. Ann's entire was a full red leather blend suit that displayed her elegant lithe form, a red mask with cat ears, red stilettos and even a fake cat tail that seemed to move on its own.

Then there was Ryuji Sakamoto, a spiky blonde with brown eyes and Ren's first ally he made. His outfit was a metal skull shaped mask, a black suit bearing a metal spine plate along his back, red tie to a black bulletproof vest, black Italian leather boots and red gloves bearing metal knuckles.

Ren couldn't forget their odd party member Morgana either. A 1'6 ft tuxedo cat-like being with a form comparable to a bobblehead. Slightly large head with black fur on the top half of the head imitating a mask to the white bottom part, a yellow bandana scarf around the neck, a black body with white paws, white feet and white tip tail, and a brown fanny pack around the waist.

The two males were helping keep Ann steady, the platinum blonde was exhausted from summoning her main Persona. "We're almost at the exit, just need to go past this hanger." Morgana stated, his childlike male voice stern and strong. Smell of burning metal hit everyone's nose, all eyes were on the growing smoke that began to seep from an adjacent hallway.

"What the hell? Is someone else here because I don't think Kamoshida's knights are stupid to burn the castle to the ground?" The blonde was right but who was it. Getting into the Metaverse, much less a Palace, required the Metanav app. Without the mysterious phone app, no one could enter this place unless brought here by accident.

A familiar voice then reached Ren's ears. 'Thy Joker, that sounds like young Hokuto. It appears our acquaintance is making good on her threat to Madame Shiho's abuser.' Arsene spoke within the raven's head. It was an odd coincidence that the hotel manager was in the same corridor leading to the exit.

The group of four turned into the hall to see an army of Kamoshida's knights cornering Hokuto. None of them were blind to the gold statues of the Palace ruler burning behind the young woman, a sight that made Ren's main Persona purr in delight.

"Ain't that Shoutmon-san?! Did she get dragged in by accident like I did?!" Ann couldn't help the worried tone within her own voice. The not-cat of the group whistled at the destruction. "That girl isn't normal. It takes extreme heat to melt solid gold like that."

Ryuji guffawed at the amount of damage that the cyanette did by herself. "Talk about a one woman demolition crew! Maybe she can help us after we help her." The group was taken aback when Hokuto began to laugh at a guard's execution threat.

"A King you say?" The cyanette scoffed, her hand grasping the device around her neck. Morgana quickly notices the peculiar device. "I'm getting weird vibes from that gadget. Whatever it is, that thing is letting out a lot of power!" All three humans looked at their smaller teammate in surprise before facing Hokuto.

Something big was about to happen. "All I see is the evidence of a pervert who loves to harass those more innocent than him. It's time these trophies of sin burn and I'll light them ablaze with the fire of my soul!" A light purple aura circled around Hokuto's opposite hand.

The peculiar sparkled and moved in an inhuman but familiar to digital code if given a physical shape. The next words Hokuto said proved to Ren and his friends just how unique she was. "Let's do this Shoutmon! Biomerge!" Pure gold fire burst forth upon Hokuto swiping her hand across the device.

All of the guards had to jump back upon the massive blaze that now engulfed the teenage girl, her shadow growing amongst the wall of flame. For a second, the masked raven saw something familiar move within the fire. The visage of the Hotel Nexus Statue crossed Ren's mind.

"Hope you're ready!" Hokuto's voice boomed from the blaze but it was very off. There was a mechanical tone to it and all of Ren swore he heard another voice overlap, a scratchy, growlish young male one. A large gold armor leg and boot with a silver stripe going down the center alongside a back spike heel stepped out from the blaze.

What followed was a giant 16 ft armored beast, a golden dragon man that looked vaguely similar to the statue back at the hotel. Giant V shaped horns adorn the head alongside the golden tusk on the cheeks to form a pseudo helmet to the silver beak like muzzle of the dragon, a rounded chest plate that held two holes on opposite sides of the flat front, curved pauldrons leading to black wire hose that connected the slimmer arms bearing three fingered hands.

On the upper back was a helm very similar to the statue and that gold alloy went down the slim waist except for the silver circle on the stomach. And the part that showed this was once Hokuto was the bright emerald eyes burning with righteous fury.

"Cause OmniShoutmon is going to bring the house down!" Hokuto or OmniShoutmon bared her two fists in a boxer's stance as she let out a battlecry. Her eyes then flitted over the group of four, a look of surprise crossing the dragon's beakish muzzle. Something one of the guards noticed as he turned around to see the small group.

"The intruders are still here?! This rebellion will be squashed before it can grow!" Every knight began to shudder in an unnatural manner, their bodies immediately collapsing into streams of black and crimson shadow. The shadowy streams immediately rose up to form various Jack o' Lanterns, Incubus, Bicorn except for one.

One had transformed into a large knight in silver armor, ruby red angelic wings sprout from the back, their red skin face held a solemn stare as they held a large broadsword in front of them in a religious manner. Ren recognized that type of Shadow from a previous encounter, it was an Archangel.

"Mona and Skull, protect Ann!" With a flair, Ren pulled off his mask as blue flames swallowed it and Arsene materialized from the fire. The sight of the Curse Persona made a wild smirk run across OmniShoutmon's muzzle. "Knew there was something special about ya! Let's get to know each other after we toast these suckers with the melody of our burning souls!"

Orbs of pure sun yellow flame ignited the draconic being's claws, emerald eyes burning bright with something akin to passion. "Hard Rock Soul!" Both small suns doubled in size and with a howl OmniShoutmon tossed them with incredible force as if they were baseballs.

A large blast of fire exploded forth upon the two projectiles hitting one of the smaller Shadows, the intense heat burning groups of the ones that held no resistance to ash. Ren took the opportunity to strike the twisted monsters with their guard dropped by the blast.

His boot struck an Incubus from a high jump kick, he used the Shadow to spring towards a Jack O' Lantern stabbing his razor sharp straight into the pumpkin demon's skull. The raven then spun midair to send his hooked opponent straight into a small cluster of Pixies and quickly turned to a group of Bicorn.

"Eiha!" Red tinted black energy manifest between Arsene's claws, the Curse Persona morphing it into a short lance. The personification of the gentleman thief quickly threw into the head of one of the black stallions. The beast let out a painful neigh in response before exploding into a redfish black bonfire that grasped a few other Bicorns.

Some enemy Jack o' Lanterns lob multiple fireballs with a swing of lanterns, Pixies shot out bolts of lightning from their fingers and a herd of Bicorn went into a stampede covered in harsh wind magic. All of them were aiming for OmniShoutmon, who smiled maliciously at the attack.

"I am an inferno born of passion, baby!! You can't extinguish my soul that easily!" The draconic being leapt off the ground, arms spread out whilst her golden body flew through the air almost if riding on an invisible current. Hokuto swept past the lightning in a barrel roll, weaved through the onslaught of fireballs before going into a condor dive whilst bearing her horns.

"Mach Rush IV!" She picked up more speed as OmniShoutmon went straight to the herd of Bicorn with the intent to run them down. Looks of shock crossed the horn horses as every single one quickly found themselves bouncing off of the dragonoid then crash disgracefully to pieces. What was worse were their green horns easily shattered then sent off into rapid fire sharpnel, whatever wind magic on them now struck down multiple allies.

The only three non-combatants watched the scene in utter shock. "Holy shit! Hok- I mean OmniShoutmon completely wrecked that stampede like it was nothing!" Ryuji remembered how much of a pain those specific Shadows were but to see them being wiped out so quickly was insane.

"I think it's because of that weird armor all over her body. Doesn't seem like any kind of material that can be found in the Real World or even the Metaverse." The not-cat has seen very peculiar things in the metaphysical plane before but he didn't think whatever material that armor was made from one of them.

"It's not just that. Before she changed, she said 'Let's do this, Shoutmon.' What if Hokuto-san wasn't saying her last name but someone else's?" Ann's words hit her two companions like a truck. Joker had also caught what the platinum blonde and things started to click in his mind.

The thought swirled in his mind whilst sliding under the large blade aimed for his head from the boss Archangel. She wasn't really alone when they had conversed earlier. Hokuto had someone or something alongside her, a Persona perhaps? Could it be…?

Joker glanced at the once human, his eyes widened in mild horror when he saw the Archangel spread out their wings. A warning signal for a powerful attack. "Look out OmniShoutmon!" The dragonoid immediately spotted the aforementioned threat and her response was surprising.

OmniShoutmon stood her ground, a burning yellow aura burst from the brilliant gold armor. "Hamaon!" The angelic shadow pointed his blade at OmniShoutmon, a large blast of bright light erupted the steel straight at her. It was at this point that the observers realized an important detail about the former human's armor.

There was a purpose to those two holes on the chest. "Flamethrower, yeaah!!" Fire burst forth from the chest holes alongside OmniShoutmon's war cry, large golden streams that clashed with the blast of light. Both attacks struggled to swallow the other, a battle of attrition in physical form. Letting out a loud roar, the fire from OmniShoutmon doubled in size as she put more power into the attack.

In seconds did the two blazing streams engulf the light in its entirety before swallowing up the Archangel and their allies in a massive bonfire. With the last bits of fire out of her chest, OmniShoutmon fell to her knee panting roughly.

"*pant* Damn did that asshole have some power. Using Flamethrower like that just takes the air out of your lungs. *whistles*" The dragonoid pants, her eyes now settled on the group of familiar faces. Ren had run up to the former human with Arsene offering his hand so the Persona could help her up.

OmniShoutmon took the assistance without hesitation, a smile on her beak like muzzle. "Thanks big guy. I have a feeling you aren't a Digimon, but I do know that I like those knife heels." The Curse Persona raised a non-existent eyebrow before letting out a hearty laugh.

Ren couldn't help shaking his head albeit agreeing with the statement. That definitely solidified this was indeed Hokuto among some other things. "As much I love to continue this chat, I believe it's best to move it to outside the confines of this castle." Arsene's suggestion didn't go unnoticed to everyone.

It made no sense to stay any further in their current state, plus there were a lot of questions that needed to be answered about their draconic ally rather than just their next possible move. Ren did know one thing, he had a feeling his life was about to get flipped over once more. For good or bad was up to debate.

And that's it. Felt Digimon would suit more into this considering DNA Digivolution, Biomerge and Spirit Evolution is a thing. Hokuto's last name isn't Shoutmon if you hadn't noticed. Last name is undecided at the moment. I did add some personal headcanons than just giving the Persona actual personalities. Persona is in personality after all.

Until next time folks!

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brownskinsugarplum76 · 5 years ago

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One Shot: Cozying Up

I have crossed the finish line! 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 All done with this one. @m-faithfull, here you go, the Robert and a librarian idea you gave me weeks ago. It was a good idea, too good to just limit to a series of head canon bullet points. So... 4300+ words later, here we are! Thank you again for the suggestion. ❤️❤️❤️

All right, file this under romantic smut, folks. NSFW but sweet. ❤️❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's Friday, close to closing time. You're sitting at the library counter, reading an erotic novel that you've hidden in a dust jacket for A Tale of Two Cities, so no one is the wiser. But so few people came in today that it really didn't really matter. Things have been slow because a snowstorm is unfolding.

You love the wild nature in this part of Wales, but you're concerned about getting home safely in your sedan. The last visitor, who left more than a half hour before, said that there was already a centimeter or two of snow on the ground when he came in. Between the snow and the ice, you're worried that the country roads could get dicey in the dark.

Robert enters now, waves hello, and smiles. He's a regular when he's at his Welsh cottage, and the two of you have talked about books before, as well as the ancient, seaside splendor of the library at the University of Aberystwyth.

He likes to retreat to his woodland hideaway for a couple of months at a time between tours and recording jags, so you've gotten to know him well. He's always appreciative to be at your small community library, because the usual crowd is more excited to see a rare book come in on loan than a middle-aged rock superstar who is almost a regular fixture at certain times of year. When he comes he's usually there for hours, a single guy who needs some civilization when the wilderness gets to be too much. No one blinks an eye at his arrival anymore.

Today he's clutching a backpack on his shoulder with a gloved hand. He's not wearing a jacket, just a cozy navy sweater, jeans, and brown leather Chelsea boots. The arctic blast has made his cheeks as rosy as they can be on his golden skin.

You feel the chill of the cold, windy air behind him, and a gust of rogue snowflakes winds its way through the door before he can close it.

He says he's surprised you're still here. You ask him how the weather is now, and he says it's bad. As proof, a dusting of snow has alighted in his hair on the short walk to the door, although it has already begun to melt in his curls.

He encourages you to lock up, since it's so close to closing and no one else is there.

You've only got an hour left. You weigh the slim odds of more visitors coming against the strong possibility that you'll swerve repeatedly on the blind, woodsy roads, and you decide that Robert makes a good point. You make a quick "CLOSED" sign on paper and tape it to the door. You lock it and tell Robert to get the books he wants while you go to the bathroom.

You grab your purse and coat on the way back to the circulation desk. Robert is already waiting for you with 5 books. You marvel at how he always seems to know which books he wants, how quickly he secures the ones that strike his fancy.

He's been working his way through the history section lately, and you chat while you check out today's selections. One book is lucky enough to have a glossy dust jacket, while the others sport their original buckram fabric covers, coated with years of greasy fingerprints, cigarette smoke odors, and coffee mug rings.

You're always delighted to have a passionate discussion with him about his book choices. Once again, you tell him that he'd make a fine history teacher if he ever decided to leave the stage.

As he's putting the books in his backpack, he glances at the one you were reading. The smirk on his face makes you uncomfortable, so you grab the book and shove it into your oversized purse.

He comments that he's never known Dickens to be so hedonistic, raises an eyebrow, and asks if you're in the market for a submissive servant. You blush, realizing he has discovered that you've been reading Venus in Furs during work hours.

He awkwardly corrects himself, clarifying that he doesn't want to fill this role for you, though he would like to get to know you better.

Now you're blushing for a happier reason. You've been hoping ever since Robert started visiting that you could connect with him outside of the library, since the two of you have developed a good friendship. At last, it seems you'll get your chance.

You excuse yourself to give the library one final sweep, and then you turn off the lights and usher him out so you can lock the back door.

***

You curse under your breath when you see the parking lot and your car, which is blanketed with snow and ice. Robert picks up on your distress and offers to drive you to his place, in his Land Rover. He says he'll stop by your place in the morning so you can get a change of clothes and then retrieve your car from the library. Or, since Saturday is your day off, it can wait until Monday if you can't bear to leave, he says demurely.

His tentative suggestion pleasantly surprises you, and you smile and nod your head. Having a cozy, long weekend with Robert in a warm house during the winter months is the stuff of your fantasies.

You think about where things could go between the two of you, and all signs are positive. He always seems glad to see you. He always laughs at your jokes and exchanges glances with you that last a little longer than they would with an acquaintance. He offhandedly invited you to get coffee one time, but you dismissed it with a polite smile, thinking it was just more of his notorious flirting. He never brought it up again, but now it seems he may have been serious.

On top of what seem to be his romantic intentions, though, you know there's a genuine concern for your safety. He knows you're an American transplant, and he's fully aware that the roads, for all of their ice-covered, tree-lined beauty, can become treacherous before you know it. Between having a behemoth vehicle and a history of driving the roads in all kinds of conditions, he assures you that it's no problem for you to stay with him. He jokes that he was looking for someone to help him finish off the big pot of stew that his cook left on the stove, and that you've now been recruited for that task.

You agree to the plan, and he helps you climb into the vehicle before getting himself seated.

***

Robert excuses himself to light the fireplace. You wander aimlessly before heading to the kitchen. The house is cozy and rustic, with lots of wood trim and furniture, and a healthy dose of jewel colors used throughout.

You begin to daydream about what it might be like to live with Robert. You envision greeting him with a cup of hot chocolate when he comes in from a walk on a sunny winter afternoon, and then you imagine an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. You're enjoying all the fantasies that are building up in your head.

At the stove, you notice two pots: one big, one small. Both are still warm. You take a peek in the big one, correctly guessing that it's the stew you'll be eating with Robert. The savory smell makes your stomach rumble. You realize that you never got around to having a tea break at work, so you find a bowl and a spoon to sample some stew.

It's delicious. You ladle a bigger portion into your bowl. The other pot will have to wait for your inspection.

You're a little embarrassed when Robert enters the kitchen, but he gives you a hug and assures you it's OK that you've made yourself at home. Inside his arms, you feel just as safe and comforted as you did on the road with him. You quickly gather things to serve two bowls of stew.

He locates some butter and a loaf of crusty bread. He's placing them on the dining room table when you arrive with the bowls. Then he retreats to the living room, and when he comes back the sounds of Fairport Convention and Sandy Denny's expressive, dulcet voice start up behind him.

He says he's in the mood for some good, old-fashioned folk music. He tells you about his love for the group, and you ask him how he came to sing with Sandy Denny on The Battle of Evermore so many years ago. He responds, and then he continues with interesting bits of trivia about how some of your other favorite Zeppelin songs were made. You compliment him on Kashmir, and he shyly tells you it's one of his favorites. You relish the opportunity to glean so many interesting facts from him.

When you've both finished eating, he starts clearing the table, and you join him.

In the kitchen, you realize he set the burner under the mystery pot to low at some point, and now a sweet smell that reminds you of Christmas fills the air.

Robert asks you to stir the pot while he locates a large thermos.

You turn your attention to the pot. You lift the lid, and you see slices of fruit lazily bobbing along in a red pool, with the occasional bits of spices. Mulled wine. You tell him you've never had it before, and he assures you that you're in for a treat.

Once he finds the thermos, you admire its cozy, masculine, red plaid pattern and realize that your brother has a similar one.

He lifts the full pot with ease and fills the thermos while you hold it in place on the counter.

He offers you the first sip, holding the thermos for you while he looks on expectantly. The wine is sweet and flavorful in a way that's different from regular wine, but just as satisfying. After taking several more sips you realize it's dangerously good. Between the wine and what Robert seems to want for the evening, what you also want, you're really glad that you don't have to work tomorrow or leave his country hideaway.

***

He hands you the thermos and leads you to his library. There's a burgundy and gold color scheme in the cozy space, and each wall has a mahogany shelf, filled with books and plants.

He fixates on some books and a notebook on the leather sofa and returns them to their proper places. While he's tidying up, you peruse the bookshelves. On the drive over you were thinking that Robert would be a haphazard free-spirit, with barely controlled chaos in every room, but he has surprised you again. The books are arranged in alphabetical order by topic, and a variety of subjects are represented, from histories of many different peoples of the world to drawing techniques, to mythologies of various cultures and even a few biographies about British football greats.

You tell him he has a nice, well-organized collection and tease him, asking if he might ever be free to cover for you at your library.

He shakes his head as he approaches you, lightly resting his hands on your shoulders. He responds that he couldn't be there without you; it wouldn't be the same.

Your heart flutters at his admission, and you caress his hand with one of your own. He smiles, then breaks the spell with the clearing of his throat and invites you to return to the living room.

***

He changes to a Minnie Ripperton album on the stereo, still in a mind for 70s nostalgia, and asks you to spread out a velvety scarlet blanket that's folded next to a brown leather recliner. You place the blanket at a cozy distance from the fire.

The smooth, soulful, romantic vibes of Perfect Angel fill the air as he joins you on the blanket. You're sitting side by side. He asks how you became a librarian and, between sips of the warm wine, you get into a long conversation about the interest in books that you've had since childhood, your educational background, your favorite books, and your craziest stories of things that have happened in the library. He tells you about his favorite books, in childhood and now.

He is the star of his own wild library story. With a glint of fond memories in his eye, he recalls an adventure he had in the stacks before Zeppelin, with an older playmate, a Birmingham college girl. He jokes that it's the only college education he's had.

You drink the last of the wine and offer to refill the thermos. Robert refuses, quickly getting to his feet to take care of it.

While he's gone you lie down on your side, enjoy the flicker of the fire for a moment, and then look around the room. There is art on the wall, and plants again, but surprisingly no television.

You comment on the latter when he returns. He says he's banished television from the house in exchange for peace and quiet, but quickly adds that he reads The Guardian edition that's delivered every day and never misses his favorite football match-ups by heading off to the nearest pub. You admire his commitment to a true chance to unwind.

He assures you that he isn't without radio, though. He turns it on to hear the latest on the snow, but here's nothing new to report. He shrugs and says with a mischievous, lingering grin that you'll just have to find ways to entertain each other. That's exactly what you're hoping for.

You're lying down and facing each other with the thermos between you, taking sips of the wine. You are in an exceptionally easy-going, tipsy state and catch yourself a few times giving Robert a longing, appreciative gaze. You feel like you're soaring when you realize he is meeting every one of your glances with his own expression of fondness.

You boldly move the thermos out of the way to spoon with him on the floor. He wraps an arm around your waist as you turn around and back up to him.

You remember that he spent time in Wales as a child and ask him about that experience. With his mouth inches from your ear, he paints a picture of a young Robert who either raced through the woods at top speed with his friends, or was content to stay at home reading or learning the words to the latest songs on the radio.

He speaks fondly of the wildness of nature in this part of the United Kingdom and recalls all of the mythological beings that he imagined were somewhere nearby when he played in the woods.

You have been lulled into a beautiful state of contentment by Robert's words, the music, and the wine. In your relaxed state of pleasure, he bewitches you even more by starting a sensual crawl of his hand through your hair.

He softly ponders aloud if the two of you would've ended up like this, entwined in a mellow embrace, if the snowstorm hadn't come along. You reply that you'd always hoped so, but you just weren't sure if he was being friendly with his chatter or really interested in more.

He raises up on his side and guides you onto your back. He traces your cheek. Then, he leans over for a gossamer kiss on your lips. He offers you a soft smile and says maybe he should've tried to kiss you sooner.

You return his smile and kiss him back just as delicately and tentatively, as though you want more but are afraid the experience will disintegrate, that it's only an incredibly sweet dream. But when he straddles you and serves butterfly kisses to your lips and neck, you know it's real by the warm shudder of arousal going through your body.

The kissing keeps going, deepening to a fiery lip lock with dancing tongues. The warmth of the fireplace and the warmth of Robert's deliciously invasive kisses are heavenly. There is no awkwardness between you two, just connected, instinctual romance, just as easygoing as your banter in the library.

You lightly grasp his shoulders, and he lowers himself closer to you. His hands cradle your face as he savors the taste of your swirling tongue a little more.

Minnie Ripperton starts cooing suggestively about two people meeting, two spirits greeting, inside each other. It seems the universe has given the two of you a sign. You continue to become more physically acquainted with each other, one wet kiss, one curious finger, one lick of an eager tongue at a time.

You have fallen in love with the faint sandalwood scent of him in the warm months, but with his sweater discarded tonight, and quickly followed by his pants, he smells strongly of a woodsy cologne all over. It's an appropriate smell for this cold time of year, and you're sure it's one you'll never forget, as well as the memory of his finely chiseled, athletic, naked body.

You also know, without any lovemaking having taken place yet, that he will have ruined you for other men by the time you leave on Monday. It's plain as day from many of the old Led Zeppelin pictures that Robert is astonishingly well hung, but actually seeing his steadily hardening member, which has been so integral to your fantasies, letting the truth sink in as you continue to explore each other and he tenderly removes your clothes, is everything you've imagined. But it's also almost beyond belief.

Seeing his hardness in real life, by the glow of the fire. Tracing the prominent veins on the warm, smooth skin. Feeling the tantalizing heft of him in your hand. Tasting the slight saltiness and the pearl of early excitement that has seeped from his tip. You couldn't have imagined it better. But now, it's beyond the control of your daydreams, and Robert's wild card movements and reactions are pleasantly surprising and far more alluring than any bedtime story you've told yourself about him. As you work his cock in your mouth, his hands lightly roam in your hair, over your shoulders and your back, and it takes all of your focus to keep yourself from surrendering to his touch.

As if sensing your need, he stops you well before his completion and attends to you. He journeys south on your body, sometimes gracing your warm skin with the faintest touch of his lips and fingertips, sometimes trailing with the tip of his tongue, dwelling at the many places along the way that make you mewl and squirm. He is treating you with reverence and lightness, like you're a beautiful, iridescent-winged hummingbird who has graced his presence but could fly away with one false touch.

You needn't worry that the evening will be chaste, however; his caresses, licks and, now, nips of your skin grow bolder by the second. He is using all of his senses to gather all the information he needs to seduce you in the way that most resonates with you, and you alone.

By your satisfied hums and the non-stop slither of your body, it's clear that Robert has mastered a repertoire of your turn-ons and seized control of your passion.

Under his velvet-tongued rule between your legs, he ratchets up your delight before backing off, doing this a few times just before the point of no control for you. He ignores your moans, and they evolve to cries and screams with each passing flick of his tongue in your soaked folds. He presses on with teasing that would've overextended its welcome long ago if it hadn't also been the most sensually intoxicated you've felt in your life.

You clutch the sheets as the electric wildfire that he has unleashed from your tight bud has spread out of control. Your legs spasm, your back stiffens. Your breath can't fill your lungs fast enough.

He knows you're close to physical nirvana. He coaxes you further in a hushed whisper, letting you know how beautiful you look while lost to desire. He coos some more, tells you not to fight it, to come for him, to give him the look that he's dreamt about exploding on your face.

The sexy rasp of his suggestion, and a confession of him fantasizing about you are all your body needed; it can no longer contain the build-up of your pleasure. Your energy shatters, and the wild essence of you dissipates into oblivion for a time.

The needle has been wandering aimlessly in the inner groove of the Minnie Ripperton record for some time now, and you get to gather yourself for the next round when Robert goes to turn off the stereo.

When he returns, he tests the waters of your core with curious fingers. By the slick wetness and your hungry groan at his touch inside, he knows that it's time. He nudges the tip of his cock inside of you. The sensation is almost overwhelming, but the slow wind of his hips is reassuring as he ventures deeper into you.

Robert doesn't stop kissing you, and before you know it he's fully nestled inside of your core. He's still wielding his cock gently, but he is, nevertheless, mercilessly stretching your walls by his mere presence. He's bigger than anyone you've ever experienced. The satisfaction is unspeakable.

Your life hangs in the balance between every stroke. Your breath hitches and you're reduced to desperate gulps of air. The gyrations that comprise your shared passion are tortuously slow, but you still find yourself clutching his back and crying out for mercy, as though he was fucking you savagely. The contradiction is blissfully satisfying.

The tickling meander of his hands in your hair and the brush of his lips against yours provides some relief, but you're still spiraling out of control. He smirks with the cocky grin that you've seen many times before at the library when he wins a discussion between you two. He knows his time-tested prowess and his exquisite physical gifts have transformed you to a wanton, insatiable goddess, which is exactly who he hoped to find within the woman with the friendly smile at the circulation desk.

His smirk is short-lived as you rake your nails across his broad back and arch more steeply into him. He growls softly, cursing and enjoying the tightness, and his breathing hastens. Now it's your turn to gloat. It seems you are affecting him as much as he is affecting you.

You share a lust-soaked gaze, and you marvel at how the sounds of your breathing have synchronized. The joyous coupling has brought both of you closer than you'd ever dreamed you'd be to each other. The slow burn of your friendship has found in your hearts all the kindling it needed to make your relationship flame brighter and higher. And there seems to be no limit to the ascension of your passion and your fondness for each other.

Both of you are desperately greedy for the escalating sensations, but neither of you is pressed to go faster or harder. You chalk it up to the blessing of a snowed-in weekend; you both know that much of the rest of your time will be spent exploring different tempos, intensities, and positions of togetherness.

Your body meanders its way toward completion. Both of you glow from the fire, and from a sheen of sweat generated by your combined passion. Both of you grasp the other tightly, not quite ready to be swept in different directions by the full surge of climax. But the unpredictable energy has its way, as both of you loudly sing the joys of orgasm at the same time. Robert's pleasure is punctuated with the destructive force of a shotgun blast, while your full-body spasms seem to have no end. You voyage on the dying embers of passion as far as they will take you.

***

Your eyes snap open some time later. The fire has all but died out. Robert's head is nestled between your breasts, and he is emitting soft snores into your damp skin. One of his hands protectively grasps your waist.

You're starting to feel a chill where your skin is not in contact with his. You fondle his damp, unfurled curls to gently wake him. He purrs and slowly focuses his sleepy eyes on yours, as a crooked smile also dawns on his face.

He parts your lips with his tongue, kissing you with lazy, loving energy. He now realizes that the fire is on the wane, and he rises to put it out completely.

He helps you to your feet and says you should head to the bedroom to warm up and get more comfortable. You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, and he takes the opportunity to scoop you up into his arms.

Once he has placed you on the bed, you find yourself reeling from the wine and the passionate encounter. Robert holds you and guides you to lay your head on his chest when he climbs into bed with you. You caress his face and tell him how glad you are that everything tonight has happened. He agrees and kisses your forehead.

He smiles broadly, and you know he's about to say something silly. And he doesn't disappoint: he promises that, now that he's sleeping with the librarian, he'll never abuse his power to take out extra books or keep them longer than he should. You can't help but laugh, and you tell him you're going to hold him to that promise.

Moments later, Robert has returned to being your peacefully snoring prince again, by the sound of his breath. You snuggle closer to him and close your eyes. You're excited to experience everything else that the weekend has to offer, and you know you'll both need the rest to keep up with each other.

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The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary.

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