#this is not beta'd at all so please forgive my fuck ups

[brandwhorestarscream]

Great, now I want to hear your takes on the other 'Cons as amnesiacs

Wish granted! :D

We'll just start at the top and go down the line:

- Megatron as an amnesiac is reverted back to before the decepticon movement was even conceived. Originally, the civilians and war frames all lived together when Megs was vv small, but very early into his life there was a call for segregation: all of the war frames were delegated to the southern half of the planet, and the civilians were delegated to the north. That was the beginning of the downward spiral of Cybertron.

The southern half was, for lack of a better term, like a third world country. It was rougher around the edges and not as privileged as the north, but it wasn't a bad place to live. It was full of culture, art, music, and the people there weren't wealthy but they had fuel and family and that was enough. Despite that, the northerners had a tendency to spit on them, disparage them, calling them savages and less-thans simply because they were "dogs of war". The majority of the energon mines were in the south, so they were exceptionally important. But things spiralled out of control with massive taxes and more and more oppressive laws. Millions of years passed and the south fell into complete disrepair, cut off from the government, wages at a record low, mecha starving or dying from injury or illness because there was no medical care. Eventually, with the extraction of the All Spark and the discovery that fully-functional adults could be factory made, there were restrictions placed on sparklings, and then they were banned all together. That was the final breaking point for the war frames--the council could call it whatever they wanted, but that's genocide! The civilians had no intentions of ever making more war frames, they were trying to drive them to extinction! It was a hellscape that could crush the spirit out of literally anyone

The amnesiac Megatron I'm imagining is reverted back to a time before the idea of rebellion was ever sparked in his mind. He's exceptionally quiet and introspective. He's used to living every day in an endless, droning cycle: wake up, work a 16 hour shift, drink whatever percentage of fuel he's earned that day, collapse into bed, and repeat. On earth, with all of his memories gone, he has no idea what to do with himself. All he's ever done, for countless years, is work. He has no hobbies, no friends, nothing to occupy his time with. And now, by god, he has all the time in the world.

There's no energon mines on this planet, there's no way for him to get home. He's honestly pretty lost and has no idea what to do with himself. After awhile he does start to come out of his shell, but it's slow going and he still doesn't say much. He's very socially awkward and doesn't know how to really talk to people, a very stark contrast to the hard-earned charisma of his present self. He's weirdly almost sweet, once he gets used to you, and treats everyone like an equal.

- Lugnut is next. He's still got a very loud, boisterous personality, but rather than a one-track Megatron mind, he's just a very noisy, excitable person in general. I hc that Lugnut was an empurata victim, with the one optic and the pincer-like claws? Fight me. He was also either mnemosurgeried or shadowplayed, but the process was interrupted halfway through. There was a decepticon raid on the facility he was being worked on at, and their saving him from having the process completed unfortunately scrambled his processor a bit. Having a delicate neurosurgery interrupted will do that. His screwy codes kinda imprinted on Megatron as his 'savior', aka why he's so obsessive and worships the ground he walks on.

He's never been to an organic planet before, never even been outside of his home city on Cybertron, so earth is a special treat. They don't have mechanimals where he's from, nor any crystal flora, so to be able to witness so many creatures is beyond incredible for him. He likes to imagine what these sorts of flora and fauna would look like back home, and if you think he doesn't pester Bulkhead into painting cybertronian versions of blue jays and squirrels, you're dead wrong

Despite their polar opposite personalities, he actually gets along well with Prowl. Go figure. It's the fellow nature-enthusiast. Granted, yeah, he gets too excited and 10 out of 10 times scares away the critters they're watching, but he's so genuinely enthusiastic It's hard to be mad

- Blitzwing is the one I toiled over the most, honestly. Cuz, before and even during the war, he was a single, unified person. He didn't become a triple changer until Blackarachnia put him under the knife, and that was millions of years after the cons had been exiled. So, this is a toughie

Icy, Hothead, and Random are all still there, first and foremost. Losing memories wouldn't cause them to just vanish. So now, Blitzwing has the added horror of his pre-experimentation self trying to shine through, but is being contrasted by three other people. All four of them are completely lost; they have no recollection of any war, autobots nor decepticons. Original Blitzwing has memories of his home on Cybertron, and it's like he suddenly just woke up to 3 other bots living in his head and taking over his body in sporadic bursts. Meanwhile Icy, Hothead, and Random have no memories of anything. It's like they've been factory reset to day 1

Needless to say, Blitzy is a mess. He feels like he's gone completely crazy, voices he doesn't know constantly ringing out in his head, taking control of his body and puppeting him. He's conscious in there even when the other faces take over, but he can't do anything but watch and listen and feel. He knows exactly what's going on at all times, but it's like he's stuck in the passenger seat. It's awful. Poor guy is plagued with insomnia and debilitating migraines, the type that make it feel like his helm is a nuclear reactor about to reach critical mass, and all he can do is lay completely still in total darkness as the worst pain he's ever felt stabs him in the processor over and over and over again.

He's honestly struggling a lot, mental health wise. Stranded on a planet he doesn't know with a bunch of strangers, having the worst identity crisis in the history of crises, 2 seconds away from a total psychotic breakdown. It's enough to give him... scary thoughts, honestly. Thoughts about drugging or hurting himself, just so he could finally have some peace and feel like a real person again. He needs a lot of help just functioning in his day to day, and should be watched closely. He's in Ratchet's medbay a lot (assuming he ends up like Starscream and is in autobot care), and the old doctor has seen a lot of fucked up shit in his day, but watching this poor kid absolutely decimated, sobbing brokenly and begging for sedation because he literally can't control his body and has been invaded and violated by 3 strangers, really makes his spark ache

[prettyboykatsuki]

HELP ME FIND A WAY TO BREATHE | M. FUSHIGURO

♡ tags ; afab + fem!reader, aged-up characters (20s), mutual pining, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, canon divergent, sex pollen, dubious consent (they are both very enthusiastic to fuck but it is still sex pollen), brief one bed trope lol, light femdom, praise kink, penetration, unprotected sex / creampies, making out, not beta'd we die like [REDACTED MANGA SPOILERS] 18+

♡ wc ; 14.1k (???)

♡ a/n ; hello! happy june, and welcome to my first of three installments part of my @ficsforgaza intiative. please go check them out and join us in fundraising for the people of palestine.

no other really notes on this one other than it's egregiously horny and even more sappy. a super lovey-dovey pining fic. title from sleep walking by bmth

♡ synopsis ; megumi has loved you for as long as he's known you and then some - which is why he avoids going on overnight missions with you at all cost. he's going to kill gojo-sensei when he gets back.

“You should be more firm with Gojo-sensei about stuff like this,” Megumi leans back, eye twitching as he voices his complaints. “You know he always puts it on you because you won’t say no.”  

You’re sitting next to Megumi reclined in your seat. He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know what face you’re making - a forgiving smile, your eyes crinkled at the corner as you shrug unbothered.  

“It’s fine with me,” You turn your head to look at him a little better, pulling your eyes way from the window. “Just how it goes sometimes, you know? Plus, Sensei was nice enough to upgrade us and sending us on these expensive seats. When else are you gonna ride in one of these?”  

Your smile reaches your eyes, light filtering through the windows in quick motion bursts as you speed along the rails. Megumi knew that’s what you were going to say. He shakes his head.  

“Don’t make excuses for him,”  

“Don’t be so prickly,” You reprimand, a long sigh leaving your lips. You reach across the armrest and pat Megumi’s shoulder “If we finish up early, we should go sight-seeing. There’s lots of temples in Sendai I’ve never seen before.”  

Megumi doesn’t say anything to that. You haven’t moved your hand from his shoulder either. The touch is subconscious and friendly - and makes Megumi want to light himself on fire. He’s almost sure this is one of Gojo’s famous schemes, since there’s little to no reason he couldn’t handle a request like this one by himself. Or at least, Megumi could’ve gone alone and prevented himself from being alone with you on a trip for several consecutive days.  

(He’s got a special talent for avoiding this exact thing - always planning ahead and switching things around so this kind of incident never occurs. He’s had a ninety-nine percent success rate. Without Gojo’s meddling, it’d probably be one-hundred) 

There’s not a lot of information about the mission at present. The case files were barely filled out when he got them - only three papers tucked away neatly in a manila folder. On those pages are a few reports of cursed energy in the area and a map - outlining the general perimeter. From what intel the two of you do have, the concentration of said cursed energy in an abandoned commune. Megumi thinks it spells trouble, but some part of him is holding onto hope that it’s an easy to deal with curse. Something quick - so the two of you can be back on the next train ride to Tokyo.  

Pitiful yearning fills him when your hands float away from his shoulder and settle back into your lap. You’re lost in your own thoughts, eyes lidded as you stare outside of the window. He doubts you got much sleep last night. You always stay up before long trips. He sighs a little.  

“We’ve still got,” He checks his watch. “At least another hour and fifty minutes. Now’d be the time to get some rest.”  

You startle at the sound of his voice, a yawn escaping you. “No,” You whine, lips formed into a soft pout that makes the corners of Megumi’s lips twitch. “Won’t you be lonely without my company, Megumi-kun?”  

He gives you a long suffering sigh. “No. I have a lot to read. Get some sleep.”  

Your frown deepens but Megumi doesn’t budge. The both of you make prolonged eye-contact until you final give in after another yawn interrupts your protesting. Your eyes are barely open as is. How stubborn of you.  

“Wake me up like fifteen minutes before we’re there, please?” You relent.  

Megumi just nods. You smile at him and his heart beats loudly at the sight as you close your eyes and succumb to exhaustion. He starts scrolling on his phone, opening his library app to read when your head falls onto his shoulder. He goes stone stiff - body locking up and blood pressure sky-rocketing before he regains control of his senses and loosens his muscles so you don’t end up waking. He leans his head back against the cushion of the seat and takes a deep breath.  

His phone buzzes in his hand, mood dropping as soon as he sees who it’s from.  

don’t respond: my dearest megumi-chan ! have the two of you arrived safely? 

Megumi thinks about not responding, quickly reminded of the fact Gojo-sensei would not only keep texting him but abuse the ‘Notify Anyway’ option given half the chance. Ignoring the oncoming migraine, he types back carefully in order to leave you undisturbed.  

(sent 6:58pm) we’re on the train now.  

The reply is instant.  

don’t respond: oh my… how late. was there a delay.  

(sent 6:58 pm) yeah.  

don’t respond: tsk…why pay all that money for the good seats if this was the outcome... 

don’t respond: well. nothing you can do now. get a hotel in Sendai and check out the location during the day. 

Megumi squints at his phone, scowl forming instantly.  

(sent 7:02) a hotel?? what for??  

don’t respond: megumi-chan… i raised you better than this. you are going to let a beautiful young maiden walk around the dark unknown at night?  

He makes a face of disgust at the phrase. Not that Megumi thinks you aren’t beautiful, but hearing the sentiment from Gojo-sensei’s mouth is truly nauseating.  

(sent 7:02) … we’ll get the hotel. 

don’t respond: wonderful ! and if i may offer you some advice my dear boy  

(sent 7:03) please don’t.  

don’t respond: do not miss your chance ! this beautiful gift your sensei has bestowed upon you to make progress in your youthful love 

Megumi scowls. He knew that was it.  

(sent 7:04): You disliked “do not miss your chance ! this…”  

dont respond: [IMG ATTACHMENT]  

Megumi stares at the attached meme (a dog gyaru posing) with a grimace - no doubt borrowed from Itadori or Kugisaki. He frowns, disliking that one too before putting the messages between them on mute and opening the app to read his book. He’s been reading a lot of his usual nonfiction. Lately it’s an autobiography of a famous Japanese author - Soseki, the father of all modern novels. He’s gotten farther into it than he thought he would since he’s only had it for a few days. The writing is engaging.  

He bought it per your recommendation too, so he wants to finish it. The sudden memory of that makes Megumi blush again, his skin prickling under the fabric of his uniform. 

 You’re still sound asleep beside him, your breathing even and steady. If he focuses, he can see you clearly from the corner of his eyes. The soft plumpness in your lips, and each of your lashes sitting against your cheek. 

He keeps focused on reading, though - and prays that the train ride goes a little faster.  

__ 

“Hey,” His arm feels stiff as he moves it away from you gentle, making sure to keep your head upright and steady on the seats headrest as he wakes you from your sleep. “We’re almost here.”  

He sees your eyes stir behind your lids, nose crinkling as you regain consciousness. He’s grateful you can’t see him smile at you as you wake up. Quickly getting his face back to it’s baseline neutral, he waits for you to wake up as you pull away from him and sit up. You let out a long yawn, rubbing underneath your eye as to not smudge your makeup. Blinking the sleep away from your vision, you finally open your eyes. Megumi watches on in silence, trying not to look too endeared.  

“Good morning,” You say as a half joke. Megumi doesn’t bother hiding his laugh. 

“Morning.”  

You smile at him, pleased by his response. You pat around your body looking for your phone, visibly relieved when you find it. Megumi continues watching you as you pull it up, resting your hands on the pull-out table in front of you. You chuckle at your screen. Megumi raises his eyebrow in interest.  

“Did you talk to Gojo-sensei?”  

He nods. “Couple of hours ago. Why?” 

Instead of replying, you pull your notification center down and show Megumi the barrage of texts sent two hours-ish prior. Your phone must’ve been on DND while you were asleep since Megumi hadn’t heard them either. There’s at least ten messages. Megumi scowls in displeasure, and you break out into a terribly lovely laugh seeing it.  

“See what I mean? If you give sensei an inch, he’ll take a mile. Why is he texting you this student this much?” 

You can’t suppress your giggles. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s a little lonely now that you’re old enough to do things by yourself - that’s all.”  

“Then he should bother me instead of you,” Megumi grumbles. Your smile doesn’t fade.  

“He texted you afterwards, so I guess it’s a start.”  

“Stop being so nice to him.”  

You laugh again. Megumi tries not to smile and ultimately succeeds.  

You study him for a brief moment before reclining a bit.   

“Guess I’ll have to be extra nice to you, then.”  

A blush crawls up the back of his neck almost instantly. Your grin has a crooked edge, a touch of mirth and amusement that makes Megumi want to crawl into somewhere dark and disappear. Warmth and restless makes home in his ribcage, your perception endlessly tormenting. You don’t tease him more than that, allowing Megumi catch his breath.  

“I don’t even know how that’d be possible.”  

“Really?” You say without missing a beat, not even looking at him as you gather up your things. “I can think of plenty of ways to be even sweeter to Megumi-kun, though?”  

He can feel the blush deepen. His cheeks are undeniably crimson by now, he’s sure - and he can barely stand the soft quality in your voice long enough to breathe. You’re still calm, the words genuine but undeniably tilted along the axis of teasing. If Megumi were any less stubborn, he might even beg you for mercy. He is, of course, incredibly bull-headed and refuses to do so. He huffs a little instead. 

“You make it sound like there’s some quota for it.” He says, kind of lamely. Your eyes flutter, something passing in your gaze - gone before Megumi can get hold of it and know what it is. You make an impassive noise, but don’t say anything in reply. Your non-answer makes him think that you might really have one. He tries not to blush any more than he is now and shakes the thought off.  

“You all ready to go?” You ask finally. He lets out a sigh of relief.  

“Yeah. Should be.” Megumi replies, looking down at his phone for the time. It’ll be closer to 9:30 by the time you get out of the station. “Dunno if you read Sensei’s messages but he told us to stay the night at a hotel first since it’s already this late and it’s nothing urgent.”  

Your brows raise in surprise before you nod. “That’s probably smart. As much I’d love to be done sooner, probably not the best idea to go lurking around in the night. We’ll do that, then.” 

“I’ll start looking at hotels,” Megumi adds.  

“Thanks for being so helpful, Megumi-kun.”  

He rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”  

__  

“This is…really the only place with available rooming for tonight?”  

Megumi looks at you with an absent grimace, affirming you with a curt nod. You glance at each other, sharing mutual disbelief and basking in the solidarity of your absurd situation for a bit. A long silence stretches over you both, a weighted quiet that makes Megumi wish a giant curse would literally swallow him into the ground.  

He wishes he had some explanation for this. His name meaning blessing feels like a spit in the face given how deeply unlucky everything about this mission has been so far. 

Of all the hotels in Sendai, the only one within reasonable distance of your mission site that is accepting last minute is a love hotel. A love hotel is something of a non-issue. It’s a tourist misconception to view them as kinky paradises. More modern love hotels are usually just short stays - last minute bookings with cheap prices and always adult. The full blown kinky stuff tends to stay in the several entertainment districts scattered across Japanese metropolitans.  

It’d be nice if that was the case here, but based on various reviews and the neon flashing blue sign at the top of the building - this is definitely the kind of love hotel for couples. The kind used for sex. It’s the only one in proximity accepting last minute bookings, and the only hotel for miles. Megumi lets out a long suffering sigh. He can see you smiling sympathetically from the corner of his eye.  He pinches the bridge of his nose as a new wave of regret settles in his bones.  

“I’m sorry,” Megumi says, unsure of what else to say. He is truly and deeply sorry for the level of misfortune he seems to have around you. You shake your head in reply, shrugging.  

“Let’s make the best of it,” You respond, pausing before going on. “Sensei is going to be really annoying about seeing this charge on his card, huh?”  

Megumi must look as distraught as he feels because you laugh immediately at his expression. You squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, though you clearly find it funny. “Sorry, sorry. It’ll be fine. Maybe he won’t notice.”  

 Gojo-sensei tends to keep tabs whenever people are away on missions. It’s a common precaution for sorcerers, and when more experienced sorcerers relegate their own work - they are solely responsible for that task. Megumi can only hope he’s too busy to keep watch on it for the night. Realistically though, it means Sensei will definitely see.  

Megumi decides to overlook this information as best he can. At least for now. 

You trek into the hotel with your away bag, Megumi in-step behind you with his head hung low. 

It sounds corny to him retroactively (he can’t help but cringe when he says it aloud), but Megumi had foolishly hoped he could be somewhat useful to you in this mission. Every fight the two of you have been in together, you’ve saved Megumi’s skin at least once. He’s incredibly aware of the increasing debt between you. Thank you’s and paid dinners stopped being enough a long time ago. He wasn’t…hoping to be a knight in shining armor or anything like that - but he really wanted to do more this time since you’re already going together.  

You probably understood that talking to the front desk in these conditions would give him a hernia and took the responsibility on without complain. You make these acts of consideration look easy and natural - smooth like the flow of water. Megumi has yet to learn how to swim against the tide instead of getting swept up in its motion.  

Despite Megumi’s countless attempts at repaying your kindness, he’s never been able break even. He reflects on this as you speak to the woman at the front desk.  

The lobby of Hotel:SAPPHIRE is exactly what someone might expect from an actual love hotel. The lights are dim even up front and there’s a lot of glittery, mildly gaudy decor. Aside from the front desk, the first floor hosts some kind of amenities store and a lounge or bar.  

 Megumi’s awareness of his surroundings is making his blush worse. He’s not concerned by being seen in a love hotel, as much as he’s hung up on the idea that people are assuming you’re both a couple. Rationally, he knows that means nothing. You’re two people of the opposing gender and similar age - of course people would think that.  

Still, it makes him so…ugh…shy, he could genuinely die of misery.  

He tries his best to zone out, but ultimately can’t. He tunes in to listens to you talk to the woman at the front desk instead.  

“There’s probably no double beds here, huh?” You ask. The woman at the front desk gives you a confused look of both sympathy and apology. You shake your head with a pleasant smile.  

“Yeah. I thought so. What’s the nicest room you have?”  

“We have a queen room, with a queen bed, couch and a jacuzzi. It has one of our more spacious bathrooms as well.”  

Megumi closes his eyes. Your reply is chipper. “Sure! We’ll take that one.”  

“And how long will you be staying?”  

“About five days?”  

His eyes snap open. Megumi gives you an incredulous look from where he’s standing. You turn back with a small smile as if having predicted it and then shrug again.  

“I still wanna go sightseeing.”  

He can’t say anything to refute you in the moment, despite how much he’d like to push back on the idea. You’re definitely enjoying yourself, at least. Maybe he should’ve expected that. You’re not exactly the type to get easily embarrassed. Even getting the words of complaint out feel too humiliating given the context. He sighs.  

“Whatever,”  

The woman at the front desk, increasingly baffled by the nature of your relationship, puts you down for five days before handing you two room cards.  

She briefly explains some of the perks, and gently points you to the small store which freely offers things like lube, condoms, scented lotions and oils, and bath products. It’d be great if some meteor hit Earth right now and killed him (and only him) instantly. You give her your kindest thanks and take the two room cards, turning around to pass one over to Megumi. He gives you a long look. You reply with two thumbs up and goofy grin.  

“Let’s go to the little store place!”  

“Why the hell would you want to do that” Megumi hisses, blushing profusely. You are predictably nonplussed by his reaction.  

“I want to see the scented lotions. A souvenir. If you will.” 

It’s truly imperative to to him in that moment he remembers how often you’ve saved him from mortal peril. He relents easily after that, trailing along behind you.  

It’s less of a store and more of a display case of possible lewd items on four sides of a centered wall, with just enough space to walk around. Megumi stonewalls as soon as the two of you are within five feet of it. You take your time looking through the different thing and snickering at the display case.  

At one point, you tug Megumi’s sleeve and snap him out of his trance. He begrudgingly follows your gaze, eyes widening at the display case of condoms. There are so many condoms. He didn’t even know they made that many kinds.  

“Maybe we should bring one? You know, just in case.” You do a stupid wiggle with your eyebrows. Megumi is painfully aware it’s just jokes, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, elbowing you lightly.  

“Fuck off.” 

Your voice is sing-songy as you continue your tirade.  

“You never know, Megumi! What if end up in a condom emergency trying to fight curses?”  

“Please shut up.”  

Your laughter sounds again behind your closed fist, but you’re merciful and turn the corner to look at everything else.  

You indeed pick up two scented lotions and a bath bomb before you finally agree to retire to the room.  

__  

Megumi is rendered speechless when you finally unlock the door to your room.  

He isn’t sure why. He should’ve expected much worse.  

The room is big as promised. Probably three times the size of his own dorm at Jujutsu Tech. There’s one bed in the middle (certainly king-sized, not queen) - with a couch and glass table adjacent to it along the back wall. The couch is upholstered with a creaky, gold fabric and the walls are painted mostly white with the exception of one wall being painted sapphire blue, decorated with a rose mural. The throw pillows and complimentary blanket share a familiar loud pattern, incorporating all three colors and stitched with gold threads.  

There’s rose petals everywhere. On the bed, floor, and the table. The glass table accompanying the couch even has two champagne flutes and complimentary bottle to go along with it. There’s a present box on the bed, wrapped in shiny white wrapping paper and a sickly sweet, red bow.  

Megumi doesn’t want to know what’s inside.  

You shut the door behind him after dragging in the rest of your luggage.  

The two of you take in the view together for a minute before Megumi hears you break out into a long fit of laughter, making him jolt. He looks over at where you’ve dropped down into a squat, giggling hysterically beside him. He feels suddenly winded from the days events as you break the tension.  

After you gather yourself you stand to your feet and look at him warmly, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Megumi wishes he could take it as easy as you.  

“Ahh…hehehe..” You put a hand over your mouth trying to suppress the sound as you turn away. “Okay, sorry. Uhm. Hah. Do you want to shower first or should I?”  

Megumi responds reflexively. “You can shower first.”  

You nod, yawning as you stretch your arms up. He forces himself not to look at the way your shirt rides up over your stomach. Patting his shoulder after collecting yourself, you shoot him a tired but reassuring smile. At least he knows you’re both exhausted.  

“Thanks, Megumi-kun. Do me a favor and order room service, please? I’m starving.”  

He nods. “Do you want to look at the menu?”  

You wave your hand dismissively, taking your bag and turning to the bathroom. “I trust you know me well enough to know what I want.”  

The instant preening internally makes Megumi want to crawl in a hole. He’s glad you can’t see him.  

“Yeah. Go shower, already.”  

“Mm,” You make a noise as you stretch. “Will do.”  

__  

The room is unnaturally dim.  

There’s a movie playing in the background as both you and Megumi sit on the bed. You’re doing some work on your laptop - typing in short bursts every few minutes. Megumi has no idea what you’re working on. You’re oddly meticulous with paper work but aside from the disaster of finding room and board - there isn’t anything to report on.  

Whatever it is though, you’ve been working on since you finished dinner an hour ago - nursing your beer while typing away.  

Megumi glances at you from the corner of his eyes, heart unfairly racing at the lack of distance between you. He really should be past this. Your skin is damp from the shower and you smell like the scented lotion from earlier which makes him feel weird and warm. He decided to drink with you, but his tolerance is much worse than yours so he feels a little tipsy. He isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Dealing with everything sober hasn’t been very fun.  

He’s staring at you openly but you’re too preoccupied to take notice. He’s kind of grateful. His fingers tap the sides of his can as his eyes flits up to the cheap action movie playing on the TV.  

After a little longr, you stretch your arms over your head and shut your laptop. 

“All done with your work?”  

You blink rapidly, momentarily taken aback before smiling. “Yeah. Finally.”  

“What were you actually doing?” 

“Started on the report and then dug around some old archives for information on the commune.”  

“Did you find anything?”  

You laugh humorlessly. “More or less? But nothing we couldn’t have figured out on our own. The commune was more like a curse cult but it ran functionally for almost ten years. They did some type of curse breeding.”  

“Curse… breeding? As in like…?” Megumi asks, making a face.  

“It’s what it sounds like? I think. There’s not really any more information. The uploaded documents were barely legible. How it works, why they did it, and if it was effective - we have no information on that. Just that there was some powerful curses in the area in the late nineties.”  

“In the nineties? So it’s been what, decades since any activity? Why now?”  

You shrug. “Best guess is that the sudden uptick in tourism caused it. You know, Sensei had some business in Sendai a few years back. It was right before Itadori-kun got hold of Sukuna I think. It’s not impossible for all of it to be connected.”  

Megumi sighs. “Don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”  

“I want to look into Gojo-sensei’s case right now but,” A yawn interrupts your train of thought. “We’ll need to be up and at ‘em early tomorrow.”  

“Right,” He says, immediately preparing to sleep on couch and praying you won’t notice. “Goodnight, then -“  

His plans are foiled fast of course. Before he can get up, you tug at the sleeve of his robe. Your face is flush from beer and sleep. You’re so effortlessly alluring to his brain he’s irritated. The motion picture casts a soft glow on your features, picturesque in how pretty you seem to be with no effort.  

“Where are you going?”  

“To sleep on the couch.”  

“I can’t let you do that,” You shake your head. Megumi says nothing. “I’ll take the couch.”  

He purses his lips. “Did you think I was gonna say yes to that?”  

You press your lips into a flat line. “No…not really. But.. I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It’ll be a long day and you need rest,” You smile at him sleepily “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”  

“Absolutely not,” He replies instantly. You pout at him. Damn it. 

“Megumi-kun, please? We can just put one of the pillows between us.”  

Megumi stares at you with a hardened brow. He knows from experience that a pillow would barely resolve the issue. A lesson he learned at fifteen where a similar incident had you both sleeping in the same tent.  

You move in your sleep. A lot. As a result, fifteen year old Megumi spent an entire night with you, paralyzed by the lack of distance and missing an entire night of sleep. Every muscle in his body in his body had set rigid like early onset rigor mortis from stress that night.  

He barely slept. Worse, the next morning Sensei had practically harassed him about his disheveled state. Megumi couldn’t look you in the eye for the rest of the mission, though he got over it eventually. Only because you seemed very troubled when he didn’t talk to you.  

You’re making a similarly distressed expression now at the thought of making Megumi sleep on the couch. He winces, swayed with embarrassing ease. The feeling fades after he sees how brightly you smile.  

“Thank you,”  

He wants to ask why you’re thanking him, but doesn’t know if he can handle hearing the answer so he says nothing. You turn the TV off and finish your beer and toss the can before returning to bed and undoing the covers. Megumi sits on the edge, watching as you rearrange the various pillows. You place a body pillow in between the both of you and fluff up another pillow to give to Megumi. You smile as you hand it to him, and he takes it with a soft blush.  

He reminds you to go brush your teeth and watches you pad off to go do it, sighing and trying to meditate before it’s his turn to do the same. The alcohol is wearing off quicker than he hoped.  

The room is nearly pitch black except for a single dim light when Megumi comes back from the bathroom. You’re already in bed, and you smile when Megumi emerges with a stupidly cute giggle following. He’ll never get used to you, he’s sure.  

Megumi craws into bed beside you. The bed is wide and spacious - and there’s plenty of room seperating you. He isn’t any less self-conscious of the fact he’s still sleeping in a bed next to you though, for better for worse.  

“Night, Megumi.” You mumble, barely awake. You’ll fall asleep fast. Megumi reaches over and turns off the lights.  

“Night.”  

He lays in the dark, facing the other wall and waiting for your breathing to go even. Compelled to turn towards your back, Megumi does so as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. He can make out your silhouette in the dark, tracing the outline of your shoulder with his eyes as he continues to feel incredibly nervous and lovesick. He’s been pining like this for so long, he finds it pathetic.  

 You’re less than a few feet away but he can barely bring himself to look at you. Oddly overwhelmed, he lets his eyes close and tries his best not to think too much about the next few days.  

__  

Against all odds, Megumi sleeps well and wakes up feeling better.  

You, of course, moved around a bunch in your sleep - ending up on his side of the bed with a single arm thrown across his waist and your face in his chest. He woke up earlier than you, thankfully - and carefully pried himself from your touch to take a cold shower in the bathroom and not die of embarrassment at the resulting morning wood. 

You were awake by the time he got out. After you were both ready for the day, you ate breakfast together and had coffee before leaving the hotel. The whole situation was more embarrassing during the daylight.  

Your hotel is a twenty minute drive from the site location of the mission. A quick taxi cab ride to a small temple. Navigating isn’t exceptionally difficult. The temple itself is somewhat obscured, not marked on any online maps. It’s well known locally though, enough that a taxi driver could take them towards the bottom of the hill where it’s located. It’s listed as a temple, but on further inspection it’s a small and worn shrine. The details about the shrines origin or history are unclear even.  

After arriving, you were both relying on the provided map. The commune itself is away from civilization. A couple hundred meters Northeast from the temple sight is a path through the forest - leading out to the clearing where the commune is supposedly located.  

The communes ruins are a one straight distance after that. If someone was taking a short hike, it wouldn’t be hard to find.  

So it isn’t difficult to find for the two of you either.  

Megumi’s shikigami follow along side him, divine dog sniffing along the trail. You’re up front, checking the path and making sure the trail is correct, as well taking notes for your report later on.  

You turn your head and share a look with Megumi - no doubt feeling the same thing he does. There’s cursed energy around here, but it’s weird and hard to trace. Neither him nor the Shikigami can make sense of exactly where it’s coming from.  

Eventually, you come across stone - laid deliberately like a pathway, and glance at Megumi with hopeful eyes.  

A clearing comes in view. Ruins, with cursed energy brimming somewhere within them fall into his sightline. It’s a bigger location that Megumi thought it’d be - stretching out far despite hosting so few residents. There are dilapidated cabins and other buildings, the place filled with overgrowth and ivy. Shattered windows, graffiti, and trash affirm to Megumi that this place was found by other people at one point or another.  

Megumi stands besides you as you assess the situation, silently taking the lead. You step forward, further in. A sigh leaves your lips as you turn to Megumi.  

“We’re here but,” You scratch the back of your neck. “What to do now is…”  

“What are you thinking?”  

You sigh. “Part of me wonders if we should split up to check the buildings, but the information is so vague that I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”  

“It’s fine.” Megumi assures. He’s not thrilled but splitting up for now is the best course of action. He can handle himself. He’s sure you’re worrying about that. “As long as we can hear each other, it should be fine.”  

Your concern muddles your features, brows drawn together as you frown. You relent eventually though. Megumi feels the corners of his mouth twitch up at how long you think about it.  

“Okay then,” You use your fingers to point towards the left half, right at what looks like an abandoned dormitory. “I’ll go look in there. Megumi-kun can go that way. And if anything sticks out, call for me immediately.” 

“Don’t worry so much.”  

“If it’s Megumi, I can’t help but worry,” Your reply comes in the same beat. He feels himself blush, casting his gaze to his Divine Dog with a frown.  

“I’ll be fine so let’s hurry up and look around already.” 

You still hesitate to part ways with Megumi, but you budge eventually. He waits for you to summon protection for yourself, watching in awe as you unzip a deck of cards from the side pocket of your uniform. Beautiful, steel enforced hanafuda cards shine in the daylight. You shuffle them with your eyes closed, feeling along the backs for the right one before sliding the set back into your uniforms compartment.  

You make a gesture to follow along with the command two-handed tanzaku, ten points - and Megumi watches the curse manifest around your arms. A strand of bi-colored tanzaku paper appears in your hand, razor-sharp with cursed energy. You coil it around your wrist before turning to Megumi with a small smile.  

Despite how often he’s seen you do it, the appreciation in your face at the newly summoned curse make his emotions bubble and swell with impossible longing.  

“Let’s meet back here if we get lost,” You say precariously. Megumi huffs.  

“We won’t get lost. It’s barely that far.”  

You pout at him. “It’s better to be safe then sorry.”  

He wants to ask when you’re doing when you drop down to your knees - but the words die in his throat as your hand comes up to pet his shikigami affectionately. You give it a small smile. “Please take care of Megumi-kun in my absence.”  

The Divine Dog lets out a pleased chuff that makes you smile.  

“….We’ll be fine,” He says - because as much as he would like to make fun of you for it, he finds it all terribly cute. You stand back up to your feet, seemingly more reassured. That’s good at least. “I’ll go ahead, then.”  

Megumi turns to leave before you can get another embarrassing word in edgewise, blush crawling up against his skin. Once he hears your foot steps fall lighter and lighter in the opposite direction, he takes moment to steel himself and prepare for the mission.  

It’s easier to tear his mind away from you when the threat of mortal peril looms - so for once, Megumi is just a little grateful to be a sorcerer.  

He takes a better look at his surroundings, shikigami sniffing along the crumbling pathways of the ruined commune and searching for a scent. It’s a strange place with a strange aura, aside from the curse. There’s not much way to describe other than tiny village. The half you’ve gone to explore seems to be nothing but houses and communal living - with some kind of central house if Megumi had to guess based on it’s layout.  

Where Megumi is walking along though seems to be amenities. On the right is open space - rustic wood stakes stuck into the ground with clothes-wire with a rotted fence separating it from another big patch of dirt. There’s signs tacked onto some of the structural poles along the outside, but they’re too dirty for Megumi to read. It’s easy to tell from how crude everything is that all of it was hand-made.  

On the left of him are storage sheds and old-crates that have somehow stood the test of time - covered in dust and dirt and moss. One of the storage sheds has a completely collapsed roof 

It’s entirely uninteresting, and that feels unsettling. The cursed air still lingers, but the familiar acrid scent doesn’t seem to be there. It’s something else, something new - and it’s simmering under the surface. Neither he nor his Shikigami seem to pick up on anything clearly. 

After a few minutes of walking, Megumi thinks they start to close in on the end of the trail. His shikigami suddenly comes to life. He looks forward.  

At the end of the trail, obscured by more forest and trail is a greenhouse. It’s made with all glass, and there’s moss and condensation surrounding it. Something about it feels alive, but Megumi can’t tell if that’s just his well-developed paranoia.  

“Go find her,” Megumi says. The shikigami makes an affirmative noise and darts off in the opposite direction as Megumi closes into the building and surrounding structures.  

The front door of the structure is pried open and pushed against the wall. It’s an interesting shape - a half-dome and much bigger than how it looks from the outside when Megumi steps in. Too big. It’s weird.  

All of the hair stands on the back of Megumi’s neck as he stands inside of it. He fits with plenty of space to move his limbs. There are raised beds along both sides of the facility - the material boxing them in now covered in dirt and dust. Overgrowths and some kind of small plant crush underneath his feet and surround him. It smells… sweet. Very sweet but distantly. Megumi can’t figure out what it is. Towards the back are gardening tools and a table with things on it.  

It’s here. This is the center of whatever unusual cursed energy he’s been feeling since they’ve been within one-hundred feet of this place. It’s in here, surrounding him.  

His skin starts to feel hot. He figures the presence of the glass might be concentrating sunlight and brushes it aside.  

He doesn’t get much time alone in his assessment of the place. A few minutes pass before you find him again, smiling at him upon your return. Megumi’s heart does a soft pitter-patter as you enter, his shikigami proudly behind you. There’s a sudden leap in his affection laying eyes on that doesn’t make sense. It’s unusual and unprofessional for him to get so caught up on it during a mission. He’s had enough with you to know how to tamp the feeling down. He has a hard time with it this time thought but shakes it off.  

“Did you find anything?” Megumi asks. Your tanzaku is wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, Megumi notices.  

“Yeah, actually. Notes. I didn’t get much time to check and a lot of them were too water-damaged to read, but I think curse breeding might’ve been an inaccurate,” You say, scratching the back of your neck. “It seemed like something else. With different kinds of cursed energy, or something to create more output.”  

Megumi doesn’t know what that means, and it must show on his face because you laugh in understanding. “Yeah. It wasn’t clear to me either but I haven’t seen everything yet. I thought I should come here first so we can expel whatevers here.”  

“That’s the problem, though.” Megumi says. “Can’t figure out what exactly is here. The cursed energy is…”  

“Obscured,” You say easily. Megumi nods.  

“Exactly,”  

“Never seen anything like this before, honestly.”  

Megumi is surprised by that. You’ve been a special grade for a long time, the extent of your abilities equal to Okkotsu-senpai He doesn’t know how worried he should be. You’re focusing hard as you look around. 

He tries to do the same, wants to contribute more to the conversation but his mind feels strangely cloudy. He slept well he thought. Maybe the heat is bothering him more than expected. The uniforms have always been stuffy during summer.  

You step around around him to look at your surroundings better, but find the same problem.  

After a minute or two of aimlessly searching, something seems to click in. You drop down to your knee. Your fingers caress whatever is sprouting in the ground underneath you. Plucking one from the soil, you bring it up to your face and frown. You’re gentle with the petals. It looks like a clover of some kind, but the color is too bright - more like a small flower maybe. He’s never seen anything like it.  

Megumi feels his skin go hot again watching you touch it. It’s odd. Too sudden and almost nonsensical, how much magentism he feels towards your innocuous gesture.  

There’s another shift in the air, deliberate - and something moves underneath Megumi’s feet. Your voice is panicked as some sudden realization dawns on you, his shikigami barks loudly.  

Everything moves around him in a daze. His ears are ringing suddenly, heart thumping hard against his chest as the flowers beneath him move and distort into tendrils, curling around his ankles.  

“Megumi-kun, we have to get out of here. We have to—“  

Your words are cut short before he can heed them. A scream rips from his chest as the ground opens up and swallows him whole. 

__ 

He falls for a long time. It seems endless.  

His voice is trapped in his throat, despite his attempts to scream. His body weightless, crashes through empty space for what feels like hours. Despite the situation, all Megumi can worry about is you. You aren’t falling beside him though he’s sure you came in together. The whole that ripped the ground was too big for that not to be true. The thought of you dying is so familiar, but it makes Megumi want to throw up mid-air.  

The crash comes eventually. Bracing himself for impact as he falls backwards , he lands onto something like grass. It’s not painful in the least. His skin prickles at the sensations surrounding him. Saccharine sweetness distorts the air, an artificial scent clogging his lungs as he gasps and opens his eyes.  

He senses a presence next to him and turns to find you beside him in the grass. His body aches, both wanting to find relief in the fact you’ve appeared beside him and feeling uncertainty at the same fact. Cursed energy seeps through every inch of this place, and part of him worries you’re some kind of illusion or mirage. Regardless, he calls out for you and hopes you’ll answer.  

“Hey,” He tries saying your name but you don’t budge. He nudges your arm but retracts just as quickly, hissing - the sensation making his skin burn at point of contact. A hole sears in your uniform where he touches you. “Wake up, shit. Please wake up.”  

After another minute, your eyes open. Megumi lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. You groan as you sit up. Megumi sits up with you.  

“Fuck,” Your voice is thick as you sit with one leg up, a pressing a knuckle to your temple. “My head is pounding.”  

Megumi makes a noncommittal noise. “Yeah. I can’t tell what kind of domain this is.”  

“These were just apart of the curse, then. I felt something off of them but..,” You pick a flower up from the grass and it..moves. He frowns. “They must just be apart of the domain. Which means there’s a special grade behind this.” 

Right. Megumi has been too hung up on everything else to make proper note of that. He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to absorb his surroundings. The air around him is hazy pink. He can’t acclimate to it, breathing shallow. From the flower-curse you picked, to the plants on the trees nearby. It’s lush and humid, but the makeup in the surroundings is dreamlike. A woodland forest of some kind, maybe. There’s a waterfall and round body of water, a short distance away and trees on every side. It’s alarming in how beautiful it is, disconcerting since the cursed energy inside is potent enough to make all the hair on Megumi’s neck stand straight.  

“My, my. What delicious sorcery I’ve stumbled upon,”  

Megumi looks around to try to find the source of the voice but comes up with nothing. You and Megumi share a look in silent understanding.  

“An unregistered Special Grade in the underground of Sendai.” Your voice is resolute. It sounds so different to how you usually speak, firm and cold. “How did you obscure your cursed energy like this.”  

“So many questions. Don’t be so hostile to your host,” The voice is soft and feminine but deeply distorted at the same time. Grating. “I’m a benevolent spirit, little sorcerer - so I won’t kill you right away. Keep in mind you are in my domain. To attack me would be unwise. And I promise, you’ll feel good until the very end.”  

You quiet, assessing the situation. There’s so little about the curse that either of you can make out. The curse is intelligent enough to bargain - to reason, which means the danger you’re both in is substantial enough to be incredibly cautious. You realize it quickly, Megumi is sure. He shoots you a look, your brows furrowed as you try to make everything make sense.  

“What are you after?”  

“You must know, little sorcerer. Human desire is filthy thing. Money, power, fame.” The air changes around you - flowers besides you blooming higher and higher until you’re all but surrounded. The sickly sweet scent becomes stronger and headier. Megumi’s lungs fill with the strange gas, burning the back of his throat. He coughs, trying to expel it. “What beautiful curses are born from pent-up and unspoken wants.”  

“Fuck this is so irritating,” You seem to be in a similar condition, holding up your first to your mouth as you cough along side him 

“Human beings are so foolish in the face of lust, so inducing such a fever is easy. But the results can be so lackluster.” The curse is taunting, giddy at the prospect of you. “How lucky and I to come across such talented jujutsu sorcerers with such ripe energy, hm?’ 

“An underhanded method like this,” You talk mostly to yourself. “Your physical form must be weak, then. To obscure yourself inside of your domain.”  

Megumi can feel the cursed energy amplify, a sneer in the Special Grade’s voice.  

 “How clever.” It remarks sarcastically. “But not clever enough. It’ll be staring any minute now. Fight it to your hearts content, little sorcerer. I’m looking forward to the show.”  

It’s only a split second before the heat starts to sink into Megumi’s body. He burns so intensely, so suddenly - it makes every other sensation feel trivial. It’s painful, searing, and all-consuming. Breathless, he feels his vision blur as a strong wave of physical arousal completely dominates him. It’s like an injection, nerves on high alert as he pulls at the neck of his uniform and gasps. The flowers surrounding you bloom into something grotesque, an open mouth in the center hissing out more of the pink hazy gas that’s surrounding you before turning again, until you can barely see a few feet away from each other. Megumi can feel the cursed energy course through his body, like pure fire in his blood stream. His cock is hard as steel, makes him feel like he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t touch himself.  

Forcing himself to remain steady for as long as he can, he searches for you. Your condition isn’t better as you lean back on your palms - your chest heaving in out as visible arousal paints your face. You share the same pain, the same lust, the same fever. The thought of it makes Megumi’s cock stir again shamefully.  

“I’m sorry,” Megumi can barely make out his voice. It’s so painful. His entire body feels like it’s screaming but  he can’t bear the idea of forcing you to touch him. These conditions, this situation - this terrible heat. Whatever loose threads of rationale are keeping him afloat in these few minutes are begging him to find a way out of this. 

He knows it’s the circumstances. No one understands things like this more clearly than him but he feels deep resentment anyway. Mostly towards himself. “I’m sorry.. aah, fuck - I don’t want to force this.”  

“Megumi-kun.” You manage to voice some of your lucidity like he has, the brunt of it closing in. He feels like he’s only deluding himself, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “Come here.” 

“No,” He almost screams it. He wants too. But he can’t find his voice to speak to you like that. He hopes the urgency reaches you. “I’m sorry. Shit, shit—”   

He doesn’t want to shatter the thing he’s so desperately protected - to ruin the relationship he’s felt so precious about so many years of his life. He doesn’t want it to happen this way. He can feel the self-loathing as he bites his tongue. 

 He’s dreamed of it so often, to touch you and kiss you and hold you. But at the hands of a curse feel so unfair.  

“It’s okay,” Your voice is so soft - a salve to his nerves. A balm to ache of his whole life, calm and smooth and so kind. He burns so deeply he wants to scream.  Your expression is somber but still assured. “It’s okay. It hurts right? So it’s fine.”  

He closes his eyes. Such a pure despair. Fuck. Tears well up his vision. The pain is unbearable without you. Perhaps it’s always been that way.  

“Please,”  

A desperate attempt to no one to wake up from this.  

“Megumi-kun,”  

It’s the sound of your voice, calling his name so assuredly even in the face of death, that finally makes Megumi shatter. The heat overtakes him. Posesses his sense and forces  him onto you like a lifeline.  

He throws himself at you in the grass, almost knocking you back with the force of his body. Both hands clasp your face as he presses his lips with yours with nothing but desperation. It’s less of a kiss and more of crash landing. He can feel his own conflict stirring inside of him but the relief of your touch drowns out his surroundings. All else in the world becomes silent except the taste of your mouth and the feeling of your face. How much he’s longed to this very thing, dreamed of it. Years. Over a decade of his life hiding in your beautiful shadow.  

You pull away from Megumi with a gasp and your face makes his entire body jolt. A flush dusts along your cheekbones as your hands reach for his shoulders. His head feels light. He can feel his cock twitch at the contact, suddenly gaining awareness of just how hard he is.  

“Megumi-kun,” You sound so serious it jolts him awake. His eyes open wide as he watches you undress hastily. You’re stumbling in your movements as you take everything off as quickly as you can - grabbing Megumi by the collar as he sits stiffly. “Take it off. All of it. Now, please.”�� 

At his wits end, he does. His hands tremble. His rational mind is fighting him at every gesture but his clothes feeling so constraining, binding him. His skin prickles, an itch skipping over his whole body as he takes everything off as fast as his hands allow. His vision is distorted from the heat. His uniform is sticky as he peels it off, drenched in sweat. He doesn’t see where they go, only feeling the relief as they come off his body. He looks for you unconsciously, immediately wanting to pull away from you as he finds you naked. The feeling is so primal it strikes fear in him. Another wave of unimaginable want pours over his skin like magma spilling across rock.  

He can’t count how much time he’s spent shamefully wondering what you look like naked. You exceed his expectations just like always, unbearably gorgeous. Soft edges and curves, scars and stretch marks - so unfairly enticing to his senses. He groans at the sight of you, eyes lidded in unadulterated, carnal want as you crawl over to him.  

Your hand pushes his shoulders back lightly towards the bed of grass underneath you both, until he’s flat on his back. He’s overwhelmed  when you crawl on top of him. You’re fever-sick just like he is, and Megumi is sure that you’re in just as much pain. 

But the face you make when you look like you want him is so fucking unfair.  

You’re beautiful and tricky and cunning and Megumi wants and wants and wants. Wants so fucking bad he might die, wants you so bad the heat in his body threatens to kill him without you. He needs you to touch him. Needs to feel your pretty hands slide across his body and touch whatever you want. 

 You lean forward to kiss him again much harder then before. Desperation makes kissing feel so pleasurable, so good. You feel so damn good. His mind is a blank slate, your tongue carving his wants into, rewiring his conscious to pine after you until the end. Your lips are soft - pillowy and plush against his own despite how much the kiss feels like little more but tongue and teeth. He wants to forfeit it all for the sake of this lasting a little longer, just as he has his entire life.  

Your existence a proof of his namesake - tongue and taste a blessing.  

Your body is soft and hot against Megumi’s skin but together the temperature cools comfortable. It’s sensual how slippery the sweat makes your bodies as you rub against each other. A mutual oasis, your tits squish along his abs and chest as Megumi holds you tight. Each time your nippls brush, his cock floods with precum.  

You slip your tongue into his mouth, and kiss Megumi sloppily. His cock pulses awake at the wetness, a strong wave of arousal backing him into a corner. Your pussy is barely hovering against his cock but Megumi strains. It gets pulled from him, an involuntary reaction. Cum spurts out of him, splashing up against your skin - dripping as it sticks to your pussy in hot spurts. He groans into your lips.  

“Did you cum from us kissing?” You ask, your voice completely gone. It’s you but it’s not. It matters but it doesn’t.  

He makes an affirmative noise and you giggle into his mouth, teeth bumping together as you kiss more. “Megumi-kun is cute.”  

He’s still so painfully hard. Electricity flares through everyone of his nerves as he slides just barely against your cunt. Fuck. You’re so wet. It feels so good it makes Megumi want to buck his hips and be inside of you already. Impatience makes his grip on your hips tight. His brain feels like it’s weighted with lead. He’s losing himself, losing his fucking mind like this. You taste sweet against his tongue as you sink your pussy down and grind against his length. You’re throbbing so hard Megumi can feel every pulse, the desperate spasming of your sex approaching orgasm.  

The filthiness of your arousal mixing together makes Megumi’s cock twitch against your clit hard. You moan loudly into his mouth and the sound sends him over edge, a life-time of pining make it hard to breathe as you take initiative and pleasure yourself with his body. He’s incredibly eager to allow you. Over and over, you slide your soft pussy over the length of his cock and balls - aimlessly covering it with slick, hips rutting and shivering with motion. Drools drips along the corners of your lips as you kiss him.  

He already wants to cum again, wants to take you in such a primal way it makes him dizzy. He feels whole thinking about what it might feel to cum so deeply inside of you. He’s thought about before, but the thought holds so much more weight in the state of his fever.  

But now it’s the only thing he wants. His teeth ache at the mere prospect. Of filling your pussy with his cum until it overflows and drips. Wants to see it pulse and push and spill and fuck it into you at your request. He wants to hear you praise him for it just like he always does, the desire much stronger than ever. Easier to admit in this curse induced sex.  

You’re breathless as you orgasm above him, on top of him - sliding along his cock and soaking his lower half with stickiness of your pussy. You pull away from his mouth to laugh delightfully. He’s so hard. He wants you so much he doesn’t know how to express it other than kissing you desperately - still restraining himself.  

It’s so much easier to catch his breathe now that you’ve both cum. Even painfully highstrung from the high with such a horrible temperature, something settles before it builds back up again.  

The relief is burdensome almost.  

“So we,” You’re breathless, more yourself and Megumi has never been happy yet so sad to see this glimpse of you again. “We both have to��haah.. cum. For the fever to slow...That’s something to work with.”  

Your expression is more serious as you lean forward, sweaty forehead touching his. It’s you doing it, not the curse forcing you both and that makes his body react. “Megumi-kun. Everything will be okay.”  

“I’m sorry. I didn’t,” He screws his eyes shut hard. “I didn’t want this to happen. This is..”  

He wants to say the worst possible outcome, but he doesn’t. You smile at him. “It’s okay because it’s you.”  

Even in the middle of all of this, you manage to get his hopes up in the worst possible way. He can’t do anything but laugh at that, genuine exhaustion starting to make him lose sense. Another wave is coming quickly, steadily. Taking a serious look at his face, you hold him close to you.  

“We’ll survive this. We’ve fought worse.”  

“You’re comforting me at a time like this,”  

You just smile at him. The heat spikes again, even more intensely than before and both of you stare at each other as the lust glosses over your expression. A pit forms in his stomach, the arousal spiking so high he chokes on it. You’re kissing again - no build up as you slide your tongue sloppily against his mouth and rub against his cock. It’s not enough this time, not even close. His chest is tight as he gasps the words against your mouth.  

“Inside.” He breathes the word between kisses, spit and saliva dripping down the sides of his face. “Need to be inside. Please, shit. Please.”  

“I want it inside.” You say and Megumi groans as your hands reach between your bodies - sticky from the mess. His cock twitches as soon as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft. You pump it twice as you sit up completely to get better accesses to it. The absence of your body makes him needy again.  

Pre-cum dribbles pathetically from the tip as you guide his cock to your pussy. Without any prep at all, you lean back and slam your weight down onto him with full force. It slides with no resistance - as you take him all the way down to the base with complete ease. Your body collapses into a shiver when you take him inside. You both cum at exactly the same time, your pussy sucking him in with a vice-like grip as he shoots another load into you. Inside of you so deep he’s aroused all over again. His cock is still hard as he fills you - and you ride your mutual high out before another brief moment of sobriety takes you. He’s briefly sated as you pas back down against him, littering bites along his neck.  

You smile at him when you pull back, suddenly lucid - bending down to meet his mouth in a kiss sober. He can feel himself blush as he joins you in the brief lucidity.  

“Megumi, you’re so big.” You say with breathless laughter. He almost wants to scream he loves you but buries it immediately.  

He groans. “I can’t believe you’re being like this given the situation.”  

You hum pleasantly and Megumi feels his heart tug.  The moment lingers to briefly before it’s interrupted again. It’s abrupt and makes you lean into his chest.  

“You sorcerers are boring me to tears,” The curse starts again, making you both stand to alert almost immediately. “Don’t be so shy now.”  

The Special Grade repeats the incantation of a technique.  

Cursed Technique: Hidden Desires.  

The air around Megumi changes suddenly. Instead of the lush oasis, he’s surrounded by a vague, all encompassing darkness similar to when he had been falling. He’s standing in it though he can’t see anything, not even himself. The fever has subsided despite him being inside the domain. Hidden Desires…from the speech the Special Grade went on earlier, he’s sure it’s related. He stands still, unsure of what to do before something appears in front of him.  

A sphere of cursed energy, a memory of some kind - at the brush of his fingertips. Despite his attempt to retract his hand, an outside force makes him touch it.  

Several emotions course through his entire body at one, passing through his mind steadily. He connects to your body, your cursed energy seeping into him as he touches whatevers in front of him. His skull throbs from the exposure of someone elses memories, the fever returning to his body one-thousand times hotter than normal. A life time breaches his mind but he doesn’t get to sift through any of it. 

 It comes to a sudden halt, and Megumi hears a whisper in his subconscious. He can’t make the words out properly.  

Arousal spikes into his body as what seems to be your desire manifests in his head. 

He does not know what reaction to have when memories and images of himself appear. Himself from your perspective, in perpetual motion - memories over the course of years crossed over with manifestations of your desires. All of it is him. Tied up, blindfolded, all other things. But him, always. Some visions are more tender than the rest. He can barely process the information, increasing stimulation making his brain fog once more.  

Fever spikes through him again. Confusion, embarrassment, and uncertainty make his stomach flip. He remains cautionary and assumes it’s another trick of the light.He doesn’t get to recover when he’s thrust back into the domain in the same position he was before he left. You look just as confused when he comes back.  

There’s not a moment to speak to each other, as the curse gets amplified ten-fold the minute he steps back into the domain. His entire body breaks out in a cherry red blush as arousal twists through his gut, curling up his neck. Claims his whole body all in on forceful gesture. The sensitivity is cranked so high, he can barely feel your hand your hand on his chest without his cock spilling pre-cum.  

Furious lust overwhelms him as you lean forward and meet his mouth again. It feels different somehow, the kiss. You press your tongue against his lips as Megumi’s cock twitches inside you. 

“Megumi-kun,” Your voice is shot. “Want you to fuck me. Fill me up. Be good and do it, okay? Fuck me so good,”  

The words alone are enough to break him from his state of mind. He takes one more look at you after you’ve granted him permission before flipping you over onto your back. He shudders as you wrap your legs around his waist - hands on either side of your head staring down hard, as he positions himself as deep as he can go inside of your cunt. It’s indescribable, the sensation of needing to fuck you. He’s never been one to chase his base instincts like this unless it’s life or death - but it feels so fucking good to let go. It feels like life or death to sate you with hi cum. Megumi is used to sitting on his hands and playing at indifference, but right now you let him take and take and take. Your hands cup his cheeks, your expression hazy with pleasure. He drops his head down to your shoulders and fucks you with every ounce of strength in his waist - animalistic and desperate to scratch the skin deep itch. He bites into your shoulder as you hips slam, the sound of wet-skin slapping against each other ringing in his ears - cum frothing white at the base of his cock and dripping down your ass each time. He needs to cum again, until the heat subsides.  

He barely gets a few thrusts in before his body strains in the familiar wake of an orgasm. The words to warn you come out choked as his hips slam against the backs of your thighs harder than ever- cumming inside of you again in what feels like seconds. It goes forever, balls emptying as he pumps his seed inside. You cum alongside him, at the same time - pussy throbbing hard around his shaft as he fills you with spend. It’s not enough, doesn’t give him the same relief this time. He needs more.  

“Fuck that’s so good,” You praise making him groan. “You’re so good, baby - fuck, Megumi.”  

You moan his name against his neck. Possession settles itself into his chest at the sound as you tell him to give you more, your hands on his ass to push his cock further into you. He fucks into you again - harder, faster, deeper - cumming every time. Pure adrenaline sends him careening down a cliffs edge, unspeakable fervor making it all but impossible to part from you. Scorching like the desert sun along his spine, a solar flare inside of his stomach as you cum together in constant motions.  

He can’t stop fucking you. He can’t. His body wont allow him even a minute seperated from the euphoria of your swollen cunt sucking in him like it needs his cum more than anything in the world. His brain feels like liquid matter in his skull, thrashing uselessly when he tries to will himself away from you. Delirium drives his every movements as Megumi fucks his cock into you over and over and over.  

You goad him with every thrust of hips - wrapped tight around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Praise bubbles from your mouth - champagne light against his skin but so impactful each time. His dick throbs every time you call him good, call him perfect as he fills you with his cum again and again and again.  

“My perfect fucking boy. Fuck me, that’s it.”  

It goes on like that for what feels like forever.  

He loses track by the time the heat starts to subdue again. The curse still simmers under his skin but he finds grounding after unloading a few more times. By then, he can feel how much he’s cum in you and can’t help  but blush. The hint of another wave tingles in the back of his head, and he can’t pull away from you without feeling sharp pain.  

But he does sober again eventually. He waits for you to join him, and tries not to feel sick at the intimacy of it. He’s back to his senses enough to feel utter embarrassment.  

Your voice is soft and exhausted. “Megumi-kun,” You’re so gentle to him. “What did you see?”  

He knows what you mean immediately, sensing you must’ve seen the same thing. “I think it might be another illusion of the curse.”  

“Why do you think that?”  

He can feel his blush darken all over his body. “It was uh, me. In the technique. Tied up and uhm. Anyway. I thought it might be something to provoke the other party into sex.”  

Your eyes go wide at the confession. “….Yours was me, too.”  

Oh. He blinks. You look at him again, too suddenly - peering at him through your lashes.  

“It wasn’t wrong,” You say. You seem scared, just a little. He’s never seen you like that before. “…If you saw yourself and some… kinkier stuff. It wasn’t wrong about that.”  

His throat suddenly feels so dry. 

 “What was…what did you see?” He asks.  

“It was me,” You say bashfully. “Mostly romantics and stuff. And some other stuff, but I don’t know if I should tell you, hehe.”  

He finds the action mercifully. He wonders if this whole thing is made-up when it dawns on him. Some type of fantasy. Maybe he was the only one down here from the start - and that’s why everything has felt so alarmingly right. 

Otherwise. Otherwise it would mean that you…  

“Megumi-kun,”  

He can’t breathe, but it’s for an entirely different reason. He wonders if he’ll die from his heart beating too fast.”Hm?”  

A bated breath follows a sweet smile.  

“Love you,” You mumble it against his mouth. The air is so vulnerable - more fragile than the wings of a dragonfly, more fragile than blown glass. “In that way….have for a long time. So long.”  

His reply is reflexive.  

“No you don’t,”  

You pause before bursting out into giggles. So beautiful and clever. He loves you with painful devotion. “That’s your reply to my love confession?!”  

“Shut up,” He hisses, though he can’t bring himself to make the words sound any meaner. He feels high.   

“I love you, Megumi.” You say more clearly. Your eyes shine with familiarity he’s adored for years. Even with all the fog and haze surrounding you, they’re clear and gorgeous. “More than anyone else in the world, I think.”  

He buries his face against your neck, struggling to get it out. He’s afraid to say it. Afraid if he confirms it that everything is going to collapse here. Like a dream that’s gone on too long. Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.  

He wants more than anything, for all of it to be real - even if it means he ends here.  

He won’t curse you after death, that way.  

He can’t find his voice.  

“Me too,” The weight of one thousand deaths, a thousand days of longing and loving and pining. It’s too burdensome to say. He’s afraid of what will happen to him - mind and soul, should he let himself admit what he kept so well-hidden. “I love you. You…”  

When he manages to meet your gaze, your eyes are welled up with tears. He panics. “Don’t cry. Sorry,”  

“You too. Don’t cry,”  

“I’m not—“ His vision blurs. Damn it.  

“I love you,” You say again and Megumi feels something inside of him mend. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”  

He doesn’t sense a fever this time. But he braves himself to kiss you one more time. It feels more intense than all else. He kisses you soft and slow, lets himself melt into your affectionate touch and gaze. There’s love behind it so obviously it makes him want to cry. He might really start sobbing, but he’s distracted by your mouth.  

He feels boneless, throat tight.  

“I don’t feel any fever.” You tell him when you pull away from him. He presses his forehead to yours. “I like kissing you.” 

So embarrassing. “Yeah…”  

“Let’s make love one more time.” You offer, and Megumi looks at you in disbelief. Just as always, you’re collected but ridiculous. It’s oddly comforting. Megumi wants to believe in you, so he does. “Just one more.”  

The fever is no longer there, but the sensitivity is still strong in his body. Your mouths meet in a chorus of affection. Megumi is still hard, somehow. But he can feel everything much more clearly. Can understand the taste of your lips and the feeling of your pussy pulsing - that it’s for him and he feels so elated he wonders if it will ever go away. He kisses you gingerly and lets himself slide out as your hand goes to his nape.  

“You’re so good to me, Megumi,” Your words make him ache. A whimper leaves his lips. “My beautiful boy. It must’ve been lonely, huh?”  

“Yes,” His words meet a thrust, slow but deep. A communication of needs so raw he can barely show them to you without feeling shy. “So long. Loved you for so long.��� 

“Me too,” You mutter. The praise pierces his heart, suffocates him in such a euphoric feeling he can’t help but gasp at each reminder. “I love you so much, baby. And we’re gonna get out of here and be together, right?”  

He feels his head fill with nothingness. Relief like cold air brushes along his skin. Like being bathed in cool water. You’re his cure - but that’s always been true. “Yeah. Please.”  

“You can’t run away, okay?”  

“I won’t,”  

“Even though I want to monopolize you?”  

He blushes but grunts with affirmation following another slow roll of his hips. “I want to be with you. Nothing else matters. A-and I didn’t hate it… or anything.”  

You smile at him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. It’s all he can come up with - watching your eyes crinkle in the corners with nothing but delight. “Mm.” You slide a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit soft as you moan a little. “Sensitive. Gonna cum soon.” 

“Me too,”  

He’s barely holding it together as is. It takes a little more to push him over the edge one last time. This orgasm feels different. Feels rooted in reality. The mutual pleasure grounds him completely, relieving his ailment despite the remaining hints of fever. He kisses you as he cums inside of you one last time, shuddering as you cum right alongside him. He whispers the words against your lips as you let go. He loves you. 

The fever cools down. It takes a while for him to slip away from you after everything, but he manages.  

“Sorry,” He mumbles, watching the cum leak out of you in embarrassment. You just laugh, patting his cheek.  

“It’s okay, promise.” You stand to your feet as Megumi tries not to be self-conscious about the way it’s dripping down your thigh. “I can’t feel the presence of the Special Grade. It must be watching from somewhere inside the domain.”  

“Yeah,” Megumi says, trying to find his clothes.”No idea how the curse broke. Maybe since we’re already curse users?” 

You hum noncommittally. “Yeah. Let’s… clean up best we can and get outta here, yeah?”  

Megumi smiles, soft and relieved. “Yeah.”  

__  

“Are you interested in hearing the details of the curse, my dearest Megumi-chan?”  

Megumi grimaces.  

“No. Why are you even here?”  

Gojo-sensei feigns a look of offense that makes Megumi want to strangle him. He wants to go home and bathe properly already but there’s always a lot of hooplah with unregistered special grades. He’s relieved in one sense of the word, though it’s not like Gojo’s appearance made any difference since you two defeated the curse together and promptly passed out.  

He woke up clothed, and not as sticky as he was during the fight. Apparently Gojo had found you both first and once you were awake, you cleaned him. 

He sits on a tree stump in the forest nearby, his eyes flitting over to to you. You’re debriefing an archivist for Jujutsu when he catches your eye. His heart pounds, blushing at the happiness on your face. 

He feels six-eyes on him and glares at Gojo, who’s currently hiding his mouth behind his hand.  

“How long have we been out?”  

“Mm,” Sensei holds up three fingers. “About three days? I only got here on the third and found you. I was here before, several years ago - for a related case. It took some time, but we fond information of the curse in one of the houses. Are you curious?”  

He’s surprised for a minute, groaning right after. “Just tell me.”  

“Special Grade Kuroyuri uses a technique called Fever, to induce what’s essentially heat - forcing all  parties into extreme physical discomfort that can only be alleviated by sexual contact - no matter the party,” He spouts off, pretending to push his glasses up. Megumi frowns at him.  “Fever works by inducing conditions related to inner  desires and producing cursed energy that way. However, as a result, should two people experiencing Fever - be capable of sating the others desire deeply, they are able to break free from it. As the condition is vague and difficult to achieve, it’s very rarely met which is what has allowed the domain to get so strong.” 

Megumi makes wide eyes. “So you’re saying…”  

“Megumi-chan, the stairwell to adulthood and true love saved you! How wonderful!”  

Megumi blushes as Gojo giggles, glaring at him. He should kill him someday.  

Gojo-sensei pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “The painful years of pining were worth something Megumi-chan. To think your desires were so pure…” 

“Shut up! I’m going to kill you!” Megumi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Do we have any idea why the curse was created?”  

“Seems the cult worshipped cursed energy as a measure of human experience. A curse intending to induce more cursed energy as evidence of their belief. Something like that. The details are vague, but we’re still looking.”  

Megumi sighs again. “Right. Thanks,”  

He puts a hand on his shoulder  as Megumi feels the exhaustion tamp down on him. He feels better and embarrassed as you pad over to him after you’re done.  

“Megumi-kun,” You smile at him before nodding to Gojo-sensei. He smiles back.  

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,”  

Megumi shoots one last glare at Gojo before looking towards you. You sit down beside him on the ground, resting your head on his lap in a way that makes his whole body break out into a blush. He’s happy though.  

“I love you,”  

“What are you saying?”  

You look up at him. “Just want to make sure you know.”  

He looks down at you from where you lay and frowns. “How could I not?” And then, a little softer. “…It’s mutual.”  

You reach a hand towards his as you giggle to yourself. “That’s good.”  

Megumi squeezes your hand and closes his eyes. Better than good, maybe.  

__  

PROLOGUE:  

[ SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2018 | 4:45pm] 

Megumi waits a while before going into the courtyard, hoping that you’ll move and practice elsewhere if he waits long enough.  

He’s been sitting behind the wall for the last half-hour at least. No luck.  

He feels bad about avoiding you, but it’s the only course of action he thinks helps both parties.  

He doesn’t exactly like you. It’s easier to say he finds it difficult to get used to you is all. Your personality eludes him, and you remind a little too much of Sensei in how you act. Not to mention you’re already so strong. You get along well with everyone else, especially the other first years. You’re a nice girl so it’s obvious Kugisaki-san would favor you, and Itadori-kun can get along with basically everyone.  

But you and him have been at odds since your arrival to the Tokyo branch months prior. Megumi can’t figure out how to bridge the gap between you, and finds it hard to force himself to like you. He doesn’t dislike you, either though. It’s not something he can put words too.  

He feels guilty about it since you haven’t done anything to him to cause his discomfort. He just… doesn’t know what to do.  

Lost in thought, he nearly jumps out of his skin as someone stands over him where he sits, casting shadow on him from above. He opens his eyes to see you standing over him, an unreadable look on his face.  

“How long did you plan on waiting here, Fushiguro-san?”  

Megumi stares up at you before frowning, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Sorry for disturbing you.” 

You’re hard for him to read, though you’re smiling. You seem amused as you step back, allowing Megumi to stand up at full-height and glance at you.  

“I don’t mind. I know you don’t want to train with me, but it’d be kind of pointless to try and find somewhere else so it’s better to just bear with it a bit.”  

He stares at you. You smile knowingly.  

“You’re surprised I know you were avoiding me?” 

He nods.  

“No offense Fushiguro-san, but it’s hard not to notice something like that when our grade is four people,” You’re a little smug but it’s not mal-intended, though it kinda pisses him off. “No hard feelings.”  

You say that then sit next to him behind the wall. He stares at you feeling more uncomfortable - but can’t will himself to get up.  

“What are you doing?”  

You smile again. 

“Messing with you,”  

He stares at you. You stare back until you break out into laugher.  

“Pfft, I’m sorry. I really am. You make it so obvious on your face when I make you mad..hah.”  

“It’s that part of you I really don’t like.”  

“Mm, yeah - thought so.” Your reply is nonplussed but not unkind. “You’re the moody, serious type. Sensitive.”  

Megumi watches you shuffle through your deck of cards - the ones you’d been practicing with for the last few hours. You peruse through the thick boards of your Hanafuda deck, silently stacking them into different matching suits and using them with your cursed energy. Megumi watches on as you manifest different thing. He wants to ask you about it but can’t find the wil. You’re so strong, despite how you act. The strongest of the first years even outclassing him.  

“It’s fine if you find me hard to be around, but don’t avoid me so blatantly.” You reason coolly. “It’s best we get along.”  

“…Do you want me to get along with you?”  

You laugh at that but he isn’t sure why. It’s nice.. the sound of your laugh when it’s sincere. This is the first time he’s ever properly talked to you, he realizes.  

“Of course! I like getting along with everyone, even someone as brooding as you.”  

“Why.”  

“It’s good for my public image.” You say seriously. He deadpans as you perk up and laugh again. “Kidding, I’m kidding!”  

“I’m going to leave.” He threatens flatly.  

“Fine, fine. Do you want to know the real reason?”  

“I don’t really care,” He responds. You smile at that.  

“I’m more than happy to tell you,” You say, completely ignoring him. “Despite your various character flaws, I think Fushiguro-san is kind of innocent.”  

“Huh?”  

You smile warmly. “Your philosophy to only save people you think are good I thought was cute. It’s a very simple way to think about jujutsu. I like that part of you, I guess? You were raised with a lot of love, I think. Since it’s a difficult way to live.”  

Megumi thinks of his life - thinks of Tsumiki and his sensei with some begrudging. He doesn’t know what else to ask you. He’s a little uncomfortable that you seem to know him so well with the little information you have.  

“Why are you a sorcerer then?”  

Megumi watches you stack your cards into a card house and collapse them, humming to yourself. You seem deep in thought for a while. The sunlight moves away from the clouds briefly, a beam of line brushing against your skin. Your lashes cast shadow on your cheeks. He’s never seen you so clearly.  

You answer with utmost clarity and confidence - all shiny grin. “Ah, well why not, you know? Since I’m super talented.”  

He stares at you, dumbfounded before the corners of his lips twitch. Somehow he understands you a little better than before, and he thinks that might’ve been what you wanted.  

“You’re an idiot.”  

Your grin goes even wider.  

“Let’s be good friends, Fushiguro-san. Okay?” 

“Sure,” He relaxes his back against the wall and shuts his eyes with a small laugh. “Why not.”  

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛

Pairing: Exotic Dancer!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader (no mention of gender or ethnicity)

Summary: Hi, you've reached [your name]. I can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep!

w/c: 3.7k

warnings: cheating (on reader), lots of cursing, smoking, heavy drinking, weed smoking, body image issues (I'm sorry), this is a smutty fic (but there’s no smut), dry humping. Please let me know if I missed anything <3

a/n: This is the first fic I've posted in years lmao, I'm a bit rusty, but omfg I enjoyed writing this so much, it's very self-indulgent hehe I hope you love it just as much as I do.

this is not beta'd, any and all mistakes are my own.

Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply encouraged🥺

7:51 PM

“Baby please, You know I’m an idiot…she means nothing” Jake whined through the phone. 

As of 5 hours ago, he became your ex but kept on calling you, each call pleading for your forgiveness and saying the same stupid excuse “I felt you pulling away, what was I supp-”

Before you could interrupt him yourself, your best friend and roommate took your phone “Listen closely you little shit, if you don’t stop calling I’ll personally chop off your balls, fry’em up and feed them to your mother in a fucking salad… it’s Wanda by the way” she huffs as she hands you back the phone, “Colorful” you grimace.

Shoving you inside the car, with you and Wanda on the back, Bruce behind the wheel and Tony as co-pilot, “Why do you even answer his calls?” Tony asks while Wanda lights up a Marlboro, and gives you a drag “Because I want to tell him to go fuck himself… I- I just can’t seem to find the right words”, “That seems right” Wanda quips and you roll your eyes, “Don’t worry you’ll find the words when the time’s right” Bruce adds, “Dr. Banner is right, tonight is all about getting shit-faced” Tony adds.

You all clap and turn up the volume to the perfect song “I don’t wanna hear, I don’t wanna know” Wanda sings, the wind on her face, while Bruce shouts “WE LOVE YOU MADONNA”. 

They were right, fuck Jack, tonight you wanted to let go, you weren’t one for parties or clubbing but you couldn’t stay at home feeling sorry for yourself, partying with your friends seemed like the perfect distraction “LET’S FUCKING GO” you shouted at the top of your lungs.

9:05 PM

“The Hush-Hush Hideaway?” you laughed as you finished your first beer after two cherry vodka shots, sounds like a place where 50 year olds would come to have an affair, “Alright, alright before you keep on talking trash, there is more eye to meet” Tony argues, to that Wanda snorts “are you seriously drunk right now? after three piña coladas?”, Bruce laughs “they’re stronger than they look” Tony defends himself as he stands up, signaling you all to head to the dance floor.

You honestly loved the place, the lighting was incredible, the atmosphere was hot pink with hints of dark red and deep purple, the ceiling was decorated with hundreds of disco balls shining down on you, the bar had tables so crystalline and so red, it looked like solidified blood,  each one surrounded by the comfiest leather couches. There was also the dance floor which you were dancing on now, it had the perfect stage for dancers or any kind of show, the whole place had the perfect mix of chic and urban.

10:39 PM

“This round’s on me” Tony shouts over the loud music as he hands you what would probably be your 5th drink, stumbling around as you danced to a song that suddenly became your favorite, as you downed the liquid gold you took Tony’s hand and started giving him a lap dance of some sorts which made everyone laugh along with you. 

And then everything went pitch black, for 5 seconds the music was over, lights were out, for a moment you thought you passed out but then a huge white light shone straight into the middle of the stage, “Girls Gays and Theys!” a deep voice over the microphone started, “is this a gay bar?” Bruce genuinely chimed in, making you giggle.

“Tonight we encourage you to let that wild side of yours out! Please give a warm welcome to The White Wolf” the voice cheered with excitement and the crowd roared and cheered back, “he must be really good looking” you sassed, and in that moment, red ropes descended.

Not a second later a man dressed in a kevlar suit swirled down as if swimming in the red fabric, wrapping himself in a cocoon in the air so the next second he rolled down to the stage, the top of his leathery suit gone, leaving his gorgeous toned abdomen exposed making the crowd go wild. The lights enhanced his beautiful body. “D-does he have glitter on?!” Tony shouted in awe, everyone absolutely going crazy over this tall, brown-haired, thick oh so fucking thick specimen.

On the other hand, you were finding breathing a difficult task, especially because his eyes were trained on yours, maybe it was the several drinks in your system or the empowering song that heightened everything, but his stare was intense, the ice blue of his eyes chilled your spine and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the show, come down and rip your clothes off… yeah you definitely felt tipsy now.

This man knew the power he held, not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, he had autonomy of every nerve and every muscle on his body, your heart and pussy were practically pulsing as you watched him dance. The magic was broken when you felt your phone ring in your pocket, taking it out, you saw it was Jake calling AGAIN, you knew your friends would tell you not to pick up, but part of you wanted to hear him out and scream at him, you didn’t know which one you were going to do.

Leaving the dance floor and heading to the bathrooms where you hoped it’d be quieter, you swipe to the green bubble “Please please forgive me” is the first thing the man says, making you sigh in frustration “S-top stop saying you’re sorry” but it’s like talking to a wall, you’re not even sure he heard you because he just keeps on whining. 

??:??

You don’t know how much time you spent listening to him in the bathroom but eventually, you give up and hang up on him, splashing some fresh water in your neck you exit the room and bump into a rock-hard wall, but then unexpectedly the wall starts talking and you think maybe it’s not a wall.

“it was rude to bail” a grave voice rumbles in your ear through all of the noise, looking up you see it’s the white wolf, making you almost choke on air, but you were quick enough to react and raise an eyebrow in response “sorry?”.

Without even noticing, the man had cornered you into a wall “Don’t apologize, you can make it up to me” he said with a wild smile, “oh he’s good” you thought, then he looked at you as if he read your mind, “you look like someone in desperate need to have some fun… let me give you a hand” he whispered, his confidence made you forget he was a stranger, and oddly enough it felt like you knew him perfectly, the thought of spending your night with him made you shudder.

Taking out what looked like a big fat blunt from one of his pockets, he dragged the little bundle of joy from your exposed thighs, up your arms, slowly passing through your neck, and finally grazing your soft lips, his eyes never once leaving yours, he leaned in and the smell of cedarwood with a touch of french vanilla made your eyes roll.

Man, you’re really not keeping your cool, but he’s too beautiful for you to care, you might as well pucker your lips, but then he backs away, taking your hand and leading you to the backdoor between the kitchens. The sound of music and people dancing start to disappear until it’s muffled, “are we allowed in here?” you laugh as he lights up the joint and takes a big gulp, your heart pounds with excitement, this is exactly what you needed.

Your inner demons whispered that he really wasn’t interested in you, he looked like he was sculptured by frigging Michelangelo, he’d never want to be with someone as big as you, plus you felt sweaty from dancing most of the night, but honestly, it was more about the nerves you felt around him, but just as easy as the negative thoughts came, he batted them away with a single kiss to your cheek, near enough to the corner of your lips “lost you there for a sec” he teased.

As he handed you the joint, you took it with hesitance, “I usually don’t take marihuana from strangers, you got a name or does everyone call you the white wolf?” you teased, carefully eyeing him, realizing that he was still shirtless unconsciously making you bite your lip.

A lazy smile spread on his face “Waddaya mean you don’t know me? Pfft I’m your latest conquest”, it threw you off but he looked so sincere it made the butterflies in your stomach dance, “I’m Bucky” he laughed, he was so at ease with that pretty smile you couldn’t do anything but swoon.

Taking a drag of the blunt you breathe out the smoke through your nose as you offer him your name in return,  not wasting a second he repeats it, slowly, maybe he was high but it seemed as though he enjoyed the sound of your name on his tongue, he savored it, your legs pressed against each other and you had to take another drag so not to seem desperate as you were for him.

He might be a stranger but deep down you felt unbelievable attraction, in less than 10 minutes of knowing him he made you feel powerful, and free, like maybe in a past life or somethin’ he was your soulmate… Pfft, you wanted to crack up at your own thoughts, somehow Bucky knew and started laughing, slowly leaning into you and crashing his lips with yours, it was sloppy but fuck you’d never been kissed like that, it was passionate, you felt wanted, right then and there you were ready and willing to let him swoop you off your feet.

12:59 AM 

Bucky was showing you his best moves, his calloused hands gripped and groped your body as you both swayed your hips against each other perfectly in sync.

He was so smooth, the fogginess of the joint rumbled through your body, each touch, every one of his strokes felt like a wave, you were floating in a sea of music and his scent, nothing was wrong with the world, nothing could harm you because he was right behind you, worshipping you, telling you how he loved the feel of every roll and every curve, you couldn’t help but smile and he couldn’t help but kiss that beautiful smile.

Not long after your friends found you and you introduced them to the dancer who blew their minds, some of his friends joined you, and not long after you were the life of the party, shots and blunts came pouring, and just like you wanted you became one with bucky, you didn’t know where you began or where he ended, pain and misery were a strange and unknown concept tonight.

1:55 AM

Wanda had to drag you away from Bucky to chat with you a bit, she couldn’t hide that grin even if she tried “Dude I don’t even recognize you right now” you laugh with her knowing very well what she means, squeezing her wrist you stop the urge to squeal, “I don’t know how this happened but fuck he’s just so pretty I wanna cry” you both giggle, understanding the Rachel Green reference. 

Turning to see Bucky you caught him already watching you, it looked like he was chatting with his friends but he wouldn’t look away from you, you realized he was waiting for you, and honestly you were eager to return to his embrace and intoxicating scent “Fuck Jack, you have men waiting in line” Wanda practically shouts as she pushes you back to the dance floor.

2:12 AM

After a while your social battery was low and you needed a break, so now you leaned against the wall in the back alley of the bar, a cigarette lit, resting on your fingertips as you recalled the events that brought you here tonight.

You didn’t blame Wanda for reminding you of Jake and what he did, after all, she was just hyping you, but now your mind was plagued, you memorized with detail how you found them, as some sort of self-punishment, why? you didn’t know, after years of therapy, you were still trying to unlearn self-deprecating thoughts that your family and society shoved in your face.

Jake cheating on you with a leggy blonde who was quite literally a Victoria's Secret model was a kick to your stomach, it made you realize that maybe every bad thought you had about yourself was true, and that was terrifying… 

Realizing that the cigarette burned itself out, you stepped on it, but before you could come back inside Bucky opened the door and grinned “There you are, was worried I spooked ya”, to that you chuckled, somehow the laws of social battery didn’t apply to the handsome trapeze dancer “Never”.

Stepping outside and standing next to you, he takes your hand and starts playing with your fingers “What’s got my sweet doll so down?”, you expected the pet name to make you cringe but instead swooned. Lighting another cigarette you take a drag and blow it on his face, and he just bites the smoke, making you giggle, after a beat of silence you show him your heart.

“About… 11 hours ago, my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, cheated on me” you sigh, trying with all your might not to shed a single fucking tear, Jake didn’t deserve them, “Gimme his address” he deadpans, a look so deadly in his eyes, that spark was almost snuffed, but just as quickly his attitude changed, “I’ll kill 'im with my bare hands, I’LL FUCKING KILL ’IM” he shouts with foux determination, making wild animal noises that are making you laugh so hard you can’t breathe “you’re not funny” you say out of breath.

His thumb cleans away a single runaway tear, his touch is so gentle at first you’re not even sure he’s holding you, he’s so close you feel his breath on your cheek and his nose caressing your skin oh so lightly, “you’re dreaming”, you think incredulously. 

In a second his touch becomes rough as he grips your face with both his hands, holding you still so you can’t look anywhere but his eyes, “he’s a fucking moron” he spits out, almost insulted, “and I don’t mean a jerk or plain stupid, I mean he’s missing some fucking brain cells to let go of someone so insanely beautiful as you”.

Your heart’s pounding in your ears, you’re about to explain but he cuts you off “And I don’t even need to know him, to be sure of what I’m telling you right now” he scoffs,  “Hell, I don’t even have to know you to be sure, in the very short time I’ve known you, you’ve been everything” bucky almost can’t believe he’s saying this to you, suddenly the tension is palpable and neither of you can breathe… 

“You’re driving me insane” is the last thing he says before pushing you against the wall, with a grunt he grips your waist and your lips crash with his, in a fight for dominance your tongues swirl, it’s as if Jake or any other man never existed, washed away by the ocean that is Bucky. 

You loved how vocal he was being, he moaned into the kiss as you practically humped him, he bit your swollen lips as a warning to slow down but it only turned you on more. You could feel your hardened nipples rub against his chest, and it drove both of you nuts, with all his strength he pulled away, leaving you dizzy and pulling him for more, he’s never wanted anyone the way he wants you but he would never have sex with someone so drunk, even if that person begged as nicely as you were right now.

He laughs as you start leaving hot open kisses throughout his neck and jaw purring like a cat, “Bucky please” you mewled, asking him for more, his hand flew to grasp your hair in a tight grip, nibbling on your skin as he reached your ear “We aren’t doing anything except kissing the fuck out of each other doll” he whispered.

You made for a grab to his groin but he was able to take your hand and hold it above your head “I want you nice and sober when I get you to cream on my cock”, he groans as you make a final attempt to lure him in, but you know he’s right, so you huff in defeat, a pout on display to make your feelings known, “baby doll what’s wrong? you look flushed” he teases as you gasp in faux offense.

3:45 AM

The bar kicked everyone out but you still had some party left in you and apparently, so did Bucky because he’s already got you piggyback riding him to his car, you said goodbye to your friends assuring them you trusted Bucky, his place was less than 10 minutes away and you’d send them your location. 

Once you got to the car Bucky stopped in his tracks, “we’re drunk and high as hell” he stated, and like a bucket of iced water you realized he was right “Accurate statement” you snort, carefully dropping you on the ground he swiftly turned to face you “so we should… perhaps, maybe take a cab” he goofs around as he steals small kisses form you “or we can walk? your place’s near right?” you reply, everyone was already gone to ask for a ride but he liked the idea of having some alone time with you, so,  he picked you up and placed you on his back “To the Batcave!” he runs as you hold onto him as tight as you could.

4:05 AM

You peacefully walked on the side of the street as cars passed by, one thing that you loved about walking at night was the lack of noise, the night wasn’t completely quiet, you could still hear the cars in the distance, people coming in and out of bars or whatever, the breeze was the perfect temperature and the city lights of New York were shone beautifully.

Hand in hand you walked with your latest conquest as he so eloquently put it, conversation flowing, “I got cheated on once, it fucking sucks” You both laughed at the obvious statement “I thought we were going steady and she got bored” he shrugged, “it was a while ago, but it definitely messed with my head” he whispered as he squeezed your hand, it brought him comfort and you as well. 

“You know what’s fucking hilarious though? I was planning on breaking up with him…ok don’t judge me” you laughed, “but I just stayed with him because it was easier to stay in a mediocre relationship than actually fight for my happiness…plus he had a hot tub” you felt stupid for saying it, but he didn’t judge you, his face remained the same, attentive.

Bucky took your hand and kissed each one of your knuckles “I got a really nice bathtub” he murmured into your skin with a smirk, your heart fluttered to what he implied so you jumped and kissed his cheek, holding onto his arm for dear life, content with how the day turned out.

4:38 AM

After smoking yet another joint together you were now straddling your dancer’s lap on his bathtub “It really is a nice bathtub” You grinned between kisses and he laughed, his hands roaming your soft skin under your clothes, you were heaven on earth he kept thinking, he was about to kiss you again but was interrupted by your phone ringing, which made both of you sigh in frustration.

You knew who it was, Jake had been calling over and over for the last 20 minutes and Bucky had enough of the bastard, “Answer him” he ordered, to which you raised an eyebrow “I- can’t I- seriously?” you say almost shocked “You know what you wanna say to him, so say it” he encouraged with a soft smile.

Without thinking twice you pick up, “Finally! what took you so long to pick up?” Jake barks, you have the phone on speaker so Bucky could listen, and he already hated how the jerk talked to you, making him grip your waist with possessiveness.

“What do you want?” you ask almost uninterested, “Baby please forgive me” he cries as if you could ever believe anything he said to you, “I’m so so fucking sorry, what else do you want me to say?!”, to that you let out an unamused laugh “just stop fucking saying you’re sorry, time to put on your big boy pants and take responsibility” you snark, which oddly, turns on bucky beyond belief.

Like a magnet, his lips start leaving love bites on your neck, making you gulp, “Babe let’s be honest, in a month you’ll be begging me to get back together, we both know you need someone to take care of you, you can’t be alone, you need me” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and then you really were done with his bullshit.

“Listen closely you fucktard, stop saying you’re sorry, stop begging me to forgive you, you were a waste of my time and the only reason I didn’t break up with you sooner was because it was convenient for me to stay with your sorry ass” you bark.

You could keep going but now Bucky was humming against your pulse, finding it incredibly hot how you stood up for yourself, he peppered you with hot open kisses that made your mind even fuzzier than the weed, “And I can take care of myself ass” you hiss in delight, it was meant to be an insult but Bucky was making you feel so good…

“Fucking drop that call”, bucky growled into your neck loud enough to be heard over the phone, then sunk his teeth into your soft skin, making you moan, unintentionally into the phone, before dropping it and gripping Bucky’s hair for support as you rubbed against the bulge on his pants “Fuck I can’t wait to make you mine” he moaned, dreaming of all the possibilities, of everything he wanted to do with and to you.

Despite the chills you felt down your spine, despite feeling exactly the same way, you laugh, “Honey… do you think it’s gonna be that easy?” you coo, drunk in power, you devour his perfect pink lips.

[txemrn]

this is so random but your mc gives their li a mug of their favorite drink & this is what’s at the bottom of the mug:

what’s their reaction?

Sweet Mal! Thank you again for sending this my way, and in typical Em fashion, I kinda ran away with the prompt. I hope you still enjoy it as well as anyone else who reads it! 🥰

Summary: After an intense argument, a simple message in the most unlikely of places reminds Ethan of what matters most.

Word count: ~1620

Rating/warning: Mature audiences; a little angsty; language; very brief mention of a medical procedure

AN: Some of these characters and plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry; this was not beta'd, so please forgive my errors.

~🖤~

The soft cadence of raindrops reverberates throughout the meeting room. Drumming his fingers in perfect time with the thundering symphony outside, Ethan wars with himself in maintaining his focus during his weekly leadership meeting.

But how could he possibly think of anything else after this morning? After the screaming? After all of the hateful words? After everything escalated completely out of control? Nothing else seems to matter right now; all he can think about is her.

Tatum had been home for almost two hours when her on-call pager obnoxiously rang its analog chime into the darkness of their master suite.  Letting out a soft groan, Tatum checks the time on her phone as Ethan rolls away from the commotion. 

Being short-staffed, the seasoned OBGYN is currently waiting for the approval to hire an associate at her clinic. In the meantime as the chief of the department, she has to pick up the slack. She was used to abnormal schedules and bizarre start times, but after spending 72 hours on-call at the hospital after a full clinic day on Thursday, Tatum was beyond exhausted both mentally and physically. She was hoping for a restful nap in her own bed before post-call rounds this morning, but judging by her beeper, that was just a dream.

After returning the page to the hospital, she slips on her clothes, cleans up her smudged mascara and tiptoes out of the room, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband.

But that silence lasted for less than a minute; Tatum storms back into the room, flipping on the lights.

"Where's the coffee?"

Ethan pulls a pillow over his face. "Tatum," he grunts deeply. "Lights!"

She marches around to his side of the bed, staring at his squished face. She rips the pillow off of him. "Ethan Jonah," she growls. "Where is the coffee?"

Grimacing, Ethan rubs his eyes. "Shit," he mutters.

"'Shit'?" She sardonically repeats. "You specifically asked me how you could make this weekend better… and I asked for one thing–one fucking thing, Ethan." She takes a long, deep breath as she runs her hands down her fatigued face. "Does that mean you didn't go to the store?"

Ethan heavily sighs, turning slowly to his other side. "Forgive me, your majesty–"

"Excuse me?" Tatum  circles the bed, glaring at her husband.

He sighs again, his voice becoming louder. "Sorry, I forgot."

"Oh," she feigns understanding, nodding her head dramatically. "You forgot." She crosses her arms, glaring at his half-asleep body.

After a moment of stagnant silence, Ethan sleepily opens an eye; but instantly, he is greeted with his angry wife, towering over him. He clears his throat. "What? I said I was sorry, Tate–"

"What happened to," she lowers her voice to mimic Ethan, "oh, baby, I want to help–'?"

"Tate," he interrupts, more annoyance in his voice, "I told you... that I... was sorry." He turns his back to his wife before calling out over his shoulder. "Just grab some cash from my wallet."

"That's not the point, Ethan!" Tatum shouts, throwing her arms in the air before leaving the room.

"Get back here," Ethan bellows, sitting up in bed with the hopes of her return. When he hears the jingle of her keys, he grabs his glasses. "Goddammit! Tatum? I swear–" He rips the sheets off of his legs, stumbling out of bed to chase after his wife. He grabs her elbow, pulling her back to his chest. "Are you looking for a fight?" He snaps.

"No, I'm looking for my husband," she glares at Ethan, ripping her arm away from him. "I'm looking for just a little support, Rams."

He holds her stare. "I said I was sorry." He takes a step closer, his voice becoming tender. "Have you... have you gotten any sleep?"

She blows a raspberry with her lips, turning towards the door. "Because this is somehow all my fault, huh?"

"The fuck?" Ethan growls. "What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Tatum scoffs, spinning around to glare at her husband.

"Yeah, you're being a bitch–"

"Well, you're being a worthless pr--!" Her words succumb to the large lump in her throat. Her eyes begin to water as she sees the flicker of hurt in her husband’s eyes. She looks away, grabbing her duffle bag and heading for the door. She stops for a moment, glancing back to Ethan as rivers course down her cheeks. She shakes her head. "I--I can't." She tears out the door, slamming it behind her.

"...Dr. Ramsey?"

The chief of medicine is pulled from his thoughts by Edenbrook’s owner and largest financial investor Leland Bloom. 

"Any final comments?" He peers over his glasses, raising a curious eyebrow.

"None from me," Ethan purses his lips, giving a curt nod.

With the meeting now adjourned, Ethan grabs his white coat, slipping it over his shoulders before grabbing his mug from the table and downing the rest of his lukewarm black coffee. But as he brings the cup back down, he notices a black inscription on the inside of the cup that you can only see if it's empty. On second glance, he recognizes Tatum's handwriting.

I love you more than coffee! 🖤

She gave it to Ethan as a joke after he had broken two of his favorite Hopkins mugs. She gifted him a coffee mug that she made at a drunken ceramics night with her girlfriends. It was just another mug littering their shelves at home, so it wouldn't be missed if it met the same demise as his other coffee carriers.

Except now in this moment, it meant everything.

He reads the inscription at the bottom again. He had never paid attention to it before… until today. Of all days. And he can feel his heart tug for Tatum in his chest. The exhaustion, their sharp tongues: how did things spin out of control so quickly this morning? And over coffee, of all things?  

And that's when it finally dawns on him: it's not about coffee at all. It's not even about supporting her through these rigorous schedules. This was about supporting her in a different way, in a way that she doesn't even know herself. She needs her husband.

------

"Can I have a 3-O chromic on an SH?"

Tatum holds out her hand, waiting for the surgical technician to load her needle holders. She's assisting her colleague Dr. Graham-Snyder as they close up on a total abdominal hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy.

As the instrument is placed in Dr. Erikson's palm, a warm, deep voice calls out from behind her. "Dr. Graham-Snyder," Ethan announces, "Dr. Erikson is needed immediately. Can you close-up on your own?"

"Of course, Dr. Ramsey," the primary surgeon nods at Tatum. "I've got this, girl."

Tatum flashes her stormy blue eyes up towards Ethan, but he's already exiting the operating room. She peels off her once-sterile garments, throwing them away in the waste receptacle before following after her husband.

"Ethan?" She calls out to her husband, but he doesn't acknowledge her. "Ethan?" She begins to jog to catch up until finally he stops at the physician's lounge. When she gets close enough, he reaches for her, gripping tightly to her elbow and guiding her quickly into the room.

Ethan locks the door behind him before turning his attention towards Tatum. An unfamiliar silence crashes between them as their downcast stares find each other. It was a game of Uncle, but Ethan already knew who would cry first–who wanted to cry first.

Taking off his white coat, he turns off the overhead light before moseying to the leather two-seater couch. He gets comfortable, letting out a relaxed sigh before looking back up to his wife. He extends his hand towards her.  "Come here," he lovingly whispers.

As tears begin to course down her cheeks, she gently places her hand in his. Ethan pulls her to his side on the sofa, his gaze never breaking from hers. He delicately unties her mask, brushing her tired, dry skin with the back of his fingers, his thumb tracing her rosy lips.

"Baby..." her voice trembles, "a-about this morning–"

"Shhh," he hushes her, "I know." He protectively wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer to himself. With his other hand, he pushes back her surgical cap, kissing tenderly along the subtle pink indention on her forehead. "I am, too, babe."

With relief washing over body, Tatum snakes her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly as she lays her head against his warm chest. 

Ethan flounces his lab coat around her like a blanket before resting his chin on her crown. "I canceled your staff meeting this morning–"

"Wait…” she sits up, rubbing her irritated eyes, “you did what?"

He puts a finger across her lips, his words becoming more deliberate and direct. "And… Dr. Graham-Snyder will do grand rounds with the residents."

She scoffs, her body deflating. "But, Rams, I can't just--I mean, I need to–" she interrupts herself with a giant yawn.

"Exactly," he smirks. He tangles his fingers into her platinum waves, bringing her head back to his chest.  He buries his mouth into her hair. "You need sleep."

Before she can contest, Tatum instantly falls still, her breathing heavy and rhythmic. A slow crooked grin crawls across his lips as he plants kisses amongst her disheveled hair before adjusting his coat over her shoulders.

“Rams,” she quietly stirs with a large inhale. “What about you?” She nuzzles her nose into his shoulder. “Don’t you have a meeting this morning?”

“Mhmm, I do… a pretty important one, actually,” he whispers, noticing Tatum has fallen back to sleep. He takes off his glasses, resting his head back. “With my wife.”

~🖤~

Tags (List updated 9/26; place let me know if you'd like to be added/removed)

PERMA

@21-wishes @alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL OPH

@alyshak92 @annfg8 @bisexualdisasteracd @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @lsvdw-blog @mvalentine @ofmischiefandmedicine @rookiemartin @starrystarrytrouble @youlookappropriate

[hyprfixations]

my stranger

Summary: Bumping elbows with Chris Evans is not something you would expect in a lanky, low profile, almost unknown bar but strangers make good company, right? Especially with secrets.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 1700+

Warning: FLUFF ALERT, RPF

A/N: This is my first Chris Evans fic so please forgive me for errors. I edit my own work and this is not beta'd.

Rubbing your arms to get rid of the cold while in line to pee in an unsanitary bathroom is definitely not the way you envisioned the night to go. You've had too many martinis at this point and don't think you can down any without spinning your head and blurring your eyesight.

After going to the bathroom, you try lighting a cigarette and decide to hang out a bit more outside. And since your lighter is not working, you try asking the person beside you if he can lend you his.

You haven't looked at the guy but he really has nice hands so you look up to thank him and your jaw almost dropped to the ground.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" That question came out way too quick than you thought it would. And you understand the shock on his face before he burst out laughing.

"Well, hello to you too, ma'am." He says while giggling and took a drag of his cigarette.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." You laugh staring at Chris fucking Evans longer than you should. You couldn't believe he's right here beside you making casual talk and out of all the places in the world, you'd bump with him here.

It's only the two of you at the back and it's becoming awkward at how you look at him but you just can't believe it.

"This place must be so important for you to visit. The neon sign outside doesn't even work."

He shakes his head and smiles at you, that same toothy grin you see in his movies.

"It's a nice place. They have great tacos too." He says, raising his eyebrows, looking smug with a stick between his lips. Well, he's not lying though. This place is shitty on the outside but definitely serves the best food.

You nod at him, agreeing to what he just said. "And it's pretty lowkey, don't you think? No one ever takes a picture of me here or asks for my signature. It's very grounding." 

You stare at him again and he does the same thing to you and he looks at you funny.

"You're running away from something..." he says and you almost choke on the smoke you just inhaled. First of all, he's on point and second of all, you shouldn't be that transparent. The stress must be very evident in your eye wrinkles when you fake a  smile.

"Tell me more, clairvoyant." You say and he smiles, this time you notice him staring at you.

"What good way to tell a secret is to a stranger, right?"

"I thought you're gonna do the hocus pocus on my brain and then you'll know." You throw the cigarette butt and crushed it with your boot. He has a few more on his and he offered you another stick but you declined. Too many vices for one night.

"I don't have that superpower." He smirks and stares again, now it's becoming normal at this point.

"Oh, right, Vision?" You tease him and he just rolls his eyes, running a hand over his beard while smiling. He whispers shut up and you laugh, hesitating if you should tell him what's bothering you all day long.

Well, shit. There's very low chance you'd meet him again so why not.

"Okay, so my sister's wedding is tomorrow and God I cannot stand her. Like literally cannot stand being in the same room as her and the worse thing about that is she basically told everybody to prepare their wedding messages in advance so she can review them. I mean..."

You almost want to take up on another stick he offers because thinking of the wedding is already stressing you enough.

"She is a manipulative bitch, to be honest. And I'm sure her soon to be husband's going to wake up from this dream and leave her crying. Can't say I'll console her though."

"You are so savage." He chuckles and chucks his cigarette in front of him and crushed it with his shoe. Probably a thousand-dollar shoe to be exact.

"You would say the same if you'd met her. I really wish you wouldn't. Your life will be totally ruined."

He shrugs his shoulders and you talked more about life like you knew each other for years already. You find out you have a lot in common and Chris is just that typical guy who loves video games, pizza and beer. Nothing too complicated except for his panty dropping smile and very inside-quivering laugh.

He made you laugh a couple of times but you made him touch his boob a lot more. There were no chance to say your name before he's called by his friend and you think he's not that interested because he never offered his number or anything. You're not that desperate anyways.

"So long, Miss Savage." He says and salutes at you before walking in the door to the bar.

"Goodbye, stranger. May we never meet again." You tip your head and spend the night pretending to be someone you're not.

--

A week later, you're seated at reception, your beige dress too tight in the middle. How come the seamstress forget the measurements or was this also your sister's doing. Being too meticulous yet again. You smile at the elderly couple at your table, trying to socialize even when all you want is to stay at home and eat your feelings away.

You fiddle with the speech your sister prepared for you. Of course, she saw to it that everything's perfect in her eyes. Just like every little thing in her life while growing up. You nervously picked on the invisible lint on your dress, getting anxious by the minute.

You'd want to crawl in a corner and smoke, even just one stick, to take the stress away. The last time you were free to smoke was days back with a certain stranger. Now, all you can do is stroll down memory lane because it won't happen for a long time.

Clinging on your fifth glass of champagne, the alcohol slowly seeping into your brain and you wish you wouldn't stutter while reading your sister's handwriting. Or your dear mother would scold you for days.

The festivities and music came to a halt and it's time for you to embarrass yourself. Your the only sibling so that means you'd have to speak after your parents and you wished they could've said something longer or cried, just to prolong your turn.

As your mother placed the mic on the table, the host called out your name and you internally cringed. Clutching and wrinkling the paper in your hands, you read the exact words your sister had written and as you blankly stare at the crowd, a familiar face popped up, grinning at you and shaking his head.

The fucking bastard.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You accidentally said on the microphone, making the people gasped.

But you continued with your speech and completely forgot what was written. You cannot contain your laughter as you looked at Chris from across the room trying to hide his laughter while he covered his face with his hand.

Your sister is absolutely mortified when you ended your speech with "I hope you last" instead of what she'd written. Your parents' eyes are shooting daggers from their table. You'd have to worry about that later. But right now, you'd have to know what the hell is Chris Evans doing here.

"You..." You sat across from him and guests looked back at both of you, some in awe and some are just meh. But mostly your cousins and your sisters friends are giggling with excitement with Schamptain Schmerica being here.

"That was a nice speech." He say, smirking and sipping from his glass of champagne.

"You distracted me." Plucking a new glass from the waiter walking by, you gulp the liquid in one go. "Why are you here, exactly? At my sister's wedding?"

"A friend of a friend invited me. I swear I didn't know this was the same wedding we're talking about days ago. What are the odds?"

You look at him suspiciously and he just laughs his ass off. Finally, the first dance is happening and couples are dragging bodies on the dance floor while "I Shall Believe" by Sheryl Crow booms. Your sister must be so disgusted her first dance song not being "So Close" from Enchanted. But that's another sister breakdown waiting to happen.

"Can I have this dance?" Chris caught you off guard while you look at the people dancing on the dance floor.

"Me? Can you see that table full of girls just waiting for you to ask them?"

"Well, they're not my stranger, aren't they?"

You swear your heart skipped a beat at his words and you can't deny the tingles all over your body.

"Okay, then. I have two left feet. Just to warn you."

He chuckles and he smoothly maneuvered his way onto the dance floor and when the energetic songs played, he goofed around making you laugh.

A lot of people whipped out their phones and recorded him. He didn't care at all, he's just having the time of his life. He looks at you and for a moment, something shifted in the air. You're both looking at each other's lips as you stared and you don't know it but there's a magnet pulling you together.

He kisses you in front of a lot of people and you can't think of anything else but his warm tongue and soft lips against yours.

"You're going to break the internet yet again, Mr. Evans."

He smirks and planted another kiss on your lips, and you're lost again. And then another slow song played and he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

"Care for another date, stranger?" He whispers and you smile.

"Another date? We've never even had our first one."

"Consider this our first."

He sways along with the music and you smell his cologne, invading your senses like an intruder you'd want to stay. You feel his rigid muscles underneath his suit and you felt safe in his arms. He looks at you and you don't know if it's something you said or if there's something on your face.

"Don't tell me I have something in between my teeth."

He belly laughs and grabs his left boob, funnily a trademark I always see in his videos, and pulls you into a hug.

"People are staring, Christopher."

"Let them stare, Y/N."

[phdmama]

I would absolutely love to see your take on 9 from the love confession prompts if you feel up to it!

Thank you! Well, this got maybe a tiny bit out of control (and eventually I'll get it over to AO3 as well) - but. Here you go! Please keep in mind that this is not beta'd and is just pretty much straight out of my head, but this is what came to my mind for the prompt: "I really, really like your stupid face."

Love Confessions

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who's tagged me in any of those post a snippet things ( @princelyharry @drarrymybeloved @sweet-s0rr0w @kingsofeverything @slytherinzouis - sorry it's not snippet, it's not Sunday, and it's not really a WIP but I did write it today?!).

Drarry, Teen, 1500ish Words

“I can’t believe you got us kidnapped.”

Potter’s voice is glum, and while his tone is not particularly accusatory, Draco bristles all the same.

“I do not understand how this is my fault? You were the one blundering about and shouting for me! In any case, we weren’t kidnapped, Potter. Honestly. We were captured.”

“Captured, kidnapped, I’m not sure, functionally, I see the difference,” Potter says from behind him, where he’s securely bound to the same pole Draco is currently attached to.

Draco sighs and prays for patience. This is not an unfamiliar prayer for him and it’s not ever been granted, not even once.

“Kidnapped implies they came and got us. Captured implies we came to them. Which, I’d like to state for the record, was not my plan. I was content with my boring little stakeout when you had come blundering like a herd of…” Draco tries to think of something sufficiently elephantine that isn’t an elephant, because elephants are amazing, and Potter is not.

All right, fine, that’s a lie. Potter is slightly amazing. Just the tiniest bit, really.

“A herd of…” Potter prompts interestedly.

“Alligators,” Draco says grumpily and feels more than hears the laugh Potter gives.

They’ve been stashed in the basement. Draco’s arms are bound in front of him, as he presumes Potter’s are, and they’ve got both rope and charms tethering them to the pole which, if Draco is not mistaken, is holding up the ceiling in this ramshackle… shack. He can’t feel the heat of Potter’s body, but if he wiggles just so, he can brush his shoulder against Potter’s, which is nice.

“I don’t think alligators come in herds,” Potter says fondly and Draco snickers before he can stop himself.

“I have to say,” Draco remarks, “you’re taking this whole being disarmed and captured thing surprisingly calmly. What do you know that I don’t?”

Draco and Potter have been paired up for years now, and they work well together, amplifying each other’s strengths and shoring up each other’s weaknesses. They’re friends. They spend time together that’s not work-related, sometimes even without anyone else along. But more importantly, they’re partners.

Draco knows Potter inside and out. Potter is many things. He’s brilliant, in an intuitive and impulsive way, and almost fearless in his quest for justice. He’s kind all the way to the bone and his capacity for love and forgiveness astounds Draco even now. He’s not functional until his second cup of coffee, he can be moody as fuck, and he’s loyal as a… Draco doesn’t know what. Something really loyal. He’s also easy on the eyes.

But what he’s not is compliant when he doesn’t want to be. He doesn’t give up and he never gives in, which makes the ease with which they were captured somewhat suspect. Draco’s suspicion only grows at the awkward silence.

“Okay, look,” Potter begins and Draco exhales slowly, genuine anger flickering in his gut. “I wasn’t holding out on you. I got a message from my CI late last night, and by the time I figured out that what he was giving me was legit, you were already staked out here. I knew they were coming and I got… worried.”

Draco frowns, taken aback. “Worried?”

“Yeah,” Potter says quietly. “This isn’t the drop location, Draco, it’s their safehouse. I was worried about you being kidnapped—”

“Captured.” Draco can’t help himself. “Words mean things, Potter.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Potter mutters.

“It’s very sweet of you to be worried,” Draco assures him. “But, as you might have noticed, we’re now in a bit of a pickle, in that, we’ve both been captured. Not to mention, disarmed. We’re bound to a pole with ropes and magic dampening charms. I can’t even see your stupid face. I know you’ve got more wandless than I do,” and it galls him to admit that but Draco long ago decided that the truth was more important than his feelings, “but I’m doubting even you can get a Patronus to Ron. So I’ll ask you again since you’ve sidestepped the question. What do you know that I don’t know.”

“I really wasn’t planning this,” Potter says. “I was thinking I’d just come and find you and bring you back to the office so we could go over this info, but then you weren’t where I thought you were going to be and I got… concerned.”

“You mean you got loud,” Draco says and Potter gives a small, annoyed hum of agreement.

“But,” Potter says and Draco knows that tone. That tone means that Potter had actually planned for this contingency (well, in all likelihood it was Weasley, one of the more brilliant strategic minds Draco’s ever come across, and wither Potter goes, so goes Weasley). “The wand that they took from me, it wasn’t my wand.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Potter says. “I couldn’t risk bringing my wand too so I only had the one, but if they try it, it’s a real wand. It’s just got… something extra.”

“Such as?”

“Such as recording and tracking spells,” Potter says with great satisfaction. “It’ll lead DART right to them, and from there, they’ll figure out where we are and come to get us. It shouldn’t be too long. Ron will send his Patronus once the op is done.”

Draco sighs. It’s a brilliant move, and he says as much to Potter. “I just would have liked to be in on the bust.”

Potter sighs. “I know. Me too. But this way, it’ll be over. No more trafficking. No more poisonings.”

Draco lets his head rest against the pole. This isn’t the only active case they have at the moment, but it’s certainly the biggest. With this wrapped up, maybe they can take a break before diving back in. Draco imagines white sand and azure water, and Potter next to him.

Oh yes, there’s that — the fact that Draco has been in love with Potter for longer than he cares to think about, and the alligator in the room is that he’s pretty sure Potter has just figured it out. They’d been out for drinks two days ago and it had been only the two of them at the end of the night. There had been a moment when Draco, made careless by that last whiskey, had let his guard down, had let himself really look at Potter with everything he feels for him, and then.

Potter had looked back.

Potter had looked back and Draco had fled the scene before Potter could say anything kind but ultimately dismissive. The next day at the office, Draco had aggressively pretended that nothing had happened, and had ignored Potter’s pensive glances and attempts to talk. Which brings them to here and now, and Draco is pretty sure he’s not going to be able to escape Harry Potter breaking his heart.

But when Potter speaks, what he says is unexpected.

“Why do you want to see my face?”

“What?” Draco frowns and tries to twist around to look at Potter, but he’s bound too tightly.

“When you were complaining about our… pickle I believe you called it? You said you couldn’t even see my stupid face. I just.”

Draco closes his eyes and swallows. “Potter,” he says, and then, more quietly, “Harry.”

“Draco,” Harry says back, “I’m not letting this go. Talk to me.”

“Maybe I like your stupid face,” Draco says reluctantly, sure that every word is another nail in the coffin of their partnership.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” Draco says, “I didn’t want to ruin this. Our partnership. I didn’t want to make it awkward, have you let me down gently and then it would be weird at work, and working with you, Harry. It’s the best, most important part of my life.”

“Did it ever occur to you,” Harry asks quietly, “that maybe I like your stupid face too?”

Wait, what?

“What?” Draco says, and his heart starts to race. “Harry, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Harry says impatiently, “that I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know how you felt until the other night. I never thought you’d… I never thought I’d have a chance. And then you looked at me.” Draco feels his shrug. “And I realized. You’ve been hiding just as much as I have.”

Draco blinks as he stares up at the ceiling, recalibrating, well, everything he thought he knew without a doubt.

“So, what are you saying?” he asks again. “I’m going to need you to be really clear with me here.”

“I’m saying,” Harry says, sounding somewhat aggrieved, probably that Draco’s making him go first, “That I really, really like your stupid face. And your stupid hair and your stupid brain and your stupid… everything. And if you’re amenable, when we get out of here, I’d like to take you somewhere private and kiss your stupid face, like. A lot.”

“Well,” Draco says expansively as it starts to sink in that he’s about to get everything he’s ever wanted. “If you must.”

Harry is still laughing when the wards come down and their team comes in to rescue them.

[holistic-alcoholic]

Actual Serious Problem

Pairing: winteriron

Tags: Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Humor, First Kiss

beta'd by @portia77 💜💜💜

Tony has a crush and accidently gets recorded talking about it. Bucky has a crush and gets jealous. Both of them are human disasters.

“Is it because of those fire-breathing monster-robot creatures?”

“What? No, no, we fixed that this morning, that was nothing. No, I’m talking about an actual serious problem here. I’m asking you how the fuck is it so hard to get in pants of one person? Am I old now? Is this it? One step closer to the fading and wilting of once great and not-so-sexually-frustrated?”

Read below or on AO3

There was barely anything that could be seen on a video: an office, bland but comfortable, with a part of a tidy table visible and a sofa mostly out of the picture. The first several seconds were silent, as if to eliminate any inpatient viewers, to make them exit the page. No one did though, not once the video went viral.

After these couple of silent seconds, steps could be heard, then a sound of someone flopping on a sofa rather gracelessly. A pair of black shiny shoes (later identified as ones from a very high-end designer) appeared on the sofa.

Then the dialogue started.

“God has forsaken me. I am not but the silent remains of a person left by sadness and desperation. Will you remember me? Will you tell my children tales of a life so cruelly abandoned? Crushed and forgotten?”

“I thought you were an atheist.”

“Semantics. Also, less dramatic. And I’m not seeing you reacting appropriately to my grief here, sweetums.”

“That’s because I’ve known you for thirty years. And please stop referring to me as your widow and the bots as your kids, Tones, that’s how the rumors get started.”

“But I’m in shambles! In agony! I abso-fucking-lutely have no fucking idea what to do! No solution, no answers, nothing. I’m ready to give up here and all I get is this, you cold-hearted wrench!”

“Is it because of those fire-breathing monster-robot creatures?”

“What? No, no, we fixed that this morning, that was nothing. No, I’m talking about an actual serious problem here. I’m asking you how the fuck is it so hard to get in pants of one person? Am I old now? Is this it? One step closer to the fading and wilting of once great and not-so-sexually-frustrated?”

“Did you actually break into my office and stop me from my very real adult time-sensitive job in order to whine? Just because you can’t fuck your thirty-year-old middle life crisis?“

“Firstly, it’s ‘because my thirty-year-old middle life crisis can’t fuck me’ I would totally let him—”

“TMI, please—”

“Do nothing you’ve never yet heard or seen me doing. Secondly, I’m not whining, I’m grieving and suffering. Very manly and dignified. Honestly, how hard is it supposed to seduce a man? I used to be good at this, right?”

“Well, remember that time with that girl in—”

“No, shut it, I did use to be good at this. Is this really it? Am I not pretty enough anymore? Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Not legally obligated to.“

“You still on that joke? No, really. I’m actually trying here. Like, drag him to supercool expensive date-like stuff, trying and strategically bending-over-in-good-lighting trying. I even wore the pants last week, you know the ones.”

“Your hooker pants?”

“Yes! And it was really fucking hard to get in them. It pinched in places I didn’t even know I had.”

“Poor baby.”

“Okay, that was rude and inconsiderate. They were really uncomfortable. No one is appreciating my sacrifices. And the worst part is — I have no fucking idea what he thinks! It’s not a clear yes, but it’s not a no either. Like he doesn’t even acknowledge me. Even potentially.”

“Riiight. And forgive me for being off-role here but have you tried, you know, actually asking him? In that off-puttingly charming blunt way of yours?”

“Aw, honeycheeks, you think I’m charming? Let’s have a spring wedding, we could do a theme and everything—”

“Yeah, yeah, stop deflecting.”

“Ugh. No, I can’t just ask him. Obviously I can’t just ask him!“

“And why, pray tell me, is that?”

“Because he could say no! And then I would be sad and depressed and become a supervillain and I’m really not ready to have another full-time job right now, ruling the world, really. I have these serious time-management issues—“

“Tony, come on—“

“And Pepper is having her hands full with the company, it would be really unfair to make her deal with that, honestly. It’s a lose-lose, no, bad idea.“

“You’re not going to become a supervillain, for fuck’s sake. Why is him saying no so scary? Never stopped you before.”

“Well. That was different. I mean. Ugh. I maybe kinda sorta don’t want to get in his pants? Just in his pants? Maybe kinda also want to hold his hand after a nightmare and do some sappy shit on big dates and have his babies? Robot-babies. Obviously not the real ones, both because I would be a shitty parent and we biologically couldn’t do it. Hey, do you think if it was possible to genetically engineer kids for same-sex couples, would it be better for the gay rights’ movement or worse? Because obviously more equality, yay, and ‘you can’t have babies’ argument isn’t going to cut it anymore, but also wouldn’t it make religious people more mad? Should I invest in genetics research about this? But no, then these resources couldn’t go into more immediate stuff like cancer treatment and it would be my fault that cancer is a thing still—”

“Jesus, no, stop, don’t make babies. Donate as per that for-the-most-efficient-usage algorithm you made. Backtrack. So. You like-like him?”

“Ugh I hate you. I’m not telling you anything anymore.”

“Yes, please, stop telling me these things.”

“What am I, a teenage girl with a crush?”

“Certainly doing a very good impression of one.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with being a teenage girl, but I’m definitely not one.”

“So.”

“So? Well. Maybe I do? Like him, that is. Oh stop that look, come on, that’s way too smug. Should I get drunk? We should get drunk.”

“You should stop drinking and ask him out for real, without the hooker pants—”

“Hey, the hooker pants are the main thing going for me right now.”

“Ask him in hooker pants then, whatever. And I should get to my actual work, remember, still have one? Important government one?”

“Yeah-yeah, you’re very boring. Leaving me, your beautiful wife, without love and care.”

“Why is my beautiful wife telling me about having the hots for some guy half her age in this story?”

“Everything you just said makes my ears bleed. Seriously, the hots? Have people actually said that? And technically, age difference is—”

“Now you know how I feel. Come on, get out. I love you and believe you can do it, but please go do it not here?”

“Yeah-yeah. Love you too, sweetie pie.”

It was unknown to the public how the recording was made and to what purpose. How could the unknown author have access to Colonel Rhodes’ office? What plans did they have? What did they want to achieve? To find out secret Avengers plans or government intel, perhaps. Use it in the most nefarious of ways: blackmail or sabotage.

Instead, they got this. And this conversation held no power over the great minds, armed with no weapon their owner. What it did, though… It did break the internet.

your normal person @ kathie_the_destroyer     wow did iron man just come out?

adora can step on me @ ilovefishies         lol he came out in like the 90s it’s just ✨biphobia✨.

shipper’s heart is the truest one @ what_the_feodal_system     but,,, who do we think,,, is the guy,,,

stony is the best ship @ fightmeintheparkinglot         I have…… an Idea……

The Daily Bugle @ real_daily_bugle_news     Queer CEO plans unnatural genetic experiments, seduces a young adult [more]

you know who I am @ tonystark     very funny all of you but can anybody give me some actually helpful advice? no? thought so

~~~

That was an absolutely normal way to spend the morning, thought Bucky. He refreshed the page. Steve should shut up, honestly. What does he know? There was nothing weird about looking at social media posting stupid stuff about your friend and teammate all morning. And all evening before that. Maybe also parts of the afternoon and, yeah, okay, last couple of days.

Bucky talked with his therapists about hyperfixations.

This was not that. This was just your usual internet-surfing slightly addicted way of life. Everyone does it., Just because Steve himself didn’t really get the hang of it... Bucky was absolutely normal and comfortable in his plan to hole up in his room for days.

Well, maybe not so comfortable, he admitted, looking sourly at the screen picturing the same damn video. Maybe he was downright miserable. But nobody actually needed to know that, and really, he was very concerned about anybody (somebody) knowing about Bucky being miserable and asking about why exactly he is miserable and then obviously realizing why and deciding to never speak to him again. Hence the room. Well, hence not leaving the room for two days.

Since the video.

The video that he’s seen about a hundred times by now, feeding his misery. A video with a certain teammate talking about pretty serious pretty romantic feelings for some lucky asshole. Bucky had no idea yet who the asshole was but he had very strong opinions about his general worthiness all the same. Well, okay, anyone who Tony liked would have to have at least some redeeming qualities, but honestly. The man must be incredibly fucking stupid to not see what’s in front of him.

Bucky’s seen The Pants. Bucky had a lot of thoughts about The Pants, none of them appropriate for sharing in front of respected company. Bucky had many rather pleasant dreams featuring The Pants and many different and imaginative ways of taking off said Pants.

That day when Tony, whilst wearing them, cooked something on the common floor for the team in a very good mood, which included, torturously, Tony making a lot of very alluring poses and dance moves. Bucky thought he saw God and went to Hell at the same time. It was a religious experience. He was very lucky the serum made him able to hold his breath for long periods of time because he absolutely forgot how to breathe for the time he was in the kitchen.

Well, the point was that Tony was way too hot for Bucky’s own good and incredibly out of his league and, apparently, in love with someone else.

Or in like. Very strong like. With someone stupid-headed enough to not see the honor of being noticed and cherished by Tony Stark for what it was. Asshole.

Which was utterly unfair, hence the misery.

And it wasn’t just physical attraction, obviously. No, Bucky could deal with the physical part; maybe he was missing half his brain functions and a quarter of important limbs, but he wasn’t Steve. He had game. He could flirt and wine and dine and dance, but no, not in this case. Not with Tony. Tony, who was just as kind as he was beautiful, just as good as he was kind. Who was not arrogant, not really. Tony and all his genius, no matter what was said about him by people who could not comprehend and accept his level of intelligence. Who gave and gave everything he could give and then gave some more. Who bled for everything and everyone and never stopped, never left, never ignored, never closed his eyes from discomfort, from indifference (too many years, he told Bucky one dark, dark night, when both of them were unable to sleep, too many years of stopping and leaving and ignoring and closing my eyes). Who did not mold his kindness to feel better himself but to help you. Who accepted being a monster and a scapegoat if somebody needed to take blame, like a dragon turns big and scary and accepts tales of destruction and death if it means that the princess is safe.

Who understood and didn’t offer pity.

Who saw the death and the cruelty and decided each time to be kinder. Be better. Believe in people, believe that they deserve to be saved.

No, god knows Bucky had no fucking chance.

He found the moment in the video where Tony talked about genetic research and pressed play.

The guy talks not just about wanting to make an insane invention, helping tons of people — no, he chooses which one he should do first. And feels guilty about not being able to do it all at once. Honestly, how can he be so fucking perfect?

Bucky dropped his head on a table and whined. Completely unfair.

~~~

Bucky’s reckoning came the next day, late at night, when he decided it was safe to creep into the common floor for supplies. Once he realised he’d been cornered, there was nowhere to run or hide.

“Oh, hey there, Snowflake. How’s it going? Haven’t seen your pretty face lately.”

See? Shit like that made him hope for things. And then crash and burn when all the hoping turned out to be futile. Totally unfair.

Tony looked good — well, he always looked good, he didn’t have an ability to look not good — but in the days Bucky spent hiding he missed seeing Tony like this, soft and real and not at all media-ready, in comfortable clothes. Close by, smiling at him with this soft little smile, just a little tired... Tired? Yeah, maybe Tony looked a little tired. Like he didn’t get much sleep.

Or maybe like he had to deal with the media-frenzy after the whole video thing. Argh. Bucky wanted to wrap him up in a blanket like a burrito and make him some soup and maybe also painfully dismember some journalists. At least maul them a little.

“Um, hi.” Wow. So fucking eloquent. “Yeah, I needed to be alone for some time. You know how it is.”

Tony looked at him all concerned-like.

“Winter Soldier stuff? You know you can always talk to me, right? Us, yeah, I meant us. Everyone. The team. Or not talk, do shit, I’m very good at distracting people. Mainly with blowing up shit, but, you know. Whatever works.”

Shit. Now he is lying to Tony and Tony’s upset. About him! Good job, Barnes.

Although the fact that Tony cares about him enough to be upset is... nice. Never mind that Tony cares about everything and everyone and is just nice like that, no, sir. Bucky is going to interpret this in his favor, because he hasn’t got much going for him now and he promised his therapist he’ll try to be more positive. See? He’s positive! Tony cares about him, he’s special.

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t, you know, hard stuff. Just need to be alone sometimes. Work through shit in my head.“

See how eligible and dateable I am? No serious mental issues, just need to be in my room for fucking days to feel miserable and jealous. Perfect boyfriend material.

Should probably change that conversation or it would be really fucking hard to stay positive now.

“How’re you? You look a little tired.“

“Doesn’t everyone just know how to pay a compliment here?“ Tony grumbled good-naturedly. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Work, more work, media stuff, buying Pepper shoes before she could yell at me, Pepper surprisingly not yelling at me, the latest media... um, and I punched Clint in the face.”

“Deliberately or accidentally?”

“Well, both? Kinda? We were sparring, so I wanted to, but I didn’t really expect to, so. Was nice?”

At the last phrase he made a complicated facial expression that should probably convey a very complicated pack of emotions but mostly just made him look adorable. Bucky felt a fondness in his chest calming all the nervous thoughts he had before.

“Well, ‘m proud of you,” he said, probably too softly and with way more sincerity than the situation called for.

Tony kinda stopped moving for a couple of seconds. He was more sleep-deprived than Bucky thought if he just zoned out like that.

“You should go to sleep, really. Working too much and dealing with the whole shitshow on the internet aren’t really good for your health.”

“Oh, ugh, you saw that? Right, obviously you saw that, everyone saw that. I’m fine, really. And pot-kettle, by the way. You are also up, mister, how hypocritical of you.”

“I’m a gremlin who sleeps during daytime, doesn’t work and has a serum allowing less shut-eye hours. Doesn’t count.”

“No, a gremlin? No. I’m voting for sexy brooding vampire. Promise you're gonna watch me sleep all angsty if I go to bed?“

Ugh. What?

Yes, obviously, but. What?

“What?”

“Oh, a reference, one you’re actually better not knowing... Okay, stop glaring, you murderous mother hen, I’ll have some beauty sleep and everything.” He rolled his eyes and lightly tapped Bucky’s chest absentmindedly, and left. Stupid, said the part of Bucky’s brain responsible for selfishness and jealousy. Should’ve asked him to stay with you.

“Maybe prince charming will like me better in the morning,” muttered Tony, not really for him, probably not planning for him to hear that.

The jealous part of Bucky’s brain flared a little, but mostly Bucky felt sad. And wanting to help, to comfort. So he opened his mouth and said:

“Hey, Tony. That guy of yours is really stupid if he’s not seeing you. Everyone should be lucky to have you caring about them.”

And maybe, yeah, that was also way too soft, way too sincere. Tony looked at him weirdly, intensely, but still a little sad, chuckled humorlessly and went, went for real.

~~~

Tony was an adult. Furthermore, Tony had been an adult for a while. Also, Tony was an adult who had heard the same piece of advice from hundreds of people (more! He had way more twitter replies than sensible), so he could suck it up and just ask the man out. With actual words, not by being vaguely slutty in his general direction.

And his last conversation with Bucky proved that, firstly, Bucky was not avoiding him after hearing about Tony’s crush and freaking out about it. And secondly, Bucky didn’t have any idea at all about being said crush. His last words were the words of a man who is completely oblivious.

Which was slightly insulting, because, come on, Tony hasn’t been subtle. Tony threw every notion of subtlety from the window long ago. Some acknowledgement would be nice here. But, well... At least Bucky hadn’t reacted badly. And, maybe, he genuinely cared when Bucky spoke about Tony being worthy of... well, Bucky? Be that unknowingly, it was still with feeling. So.

Maybe Tony had a chance.

Although asking now would mean Bucky would know how serious he actually is about him, and he couldn’t play it down after the inevitable rejection, and it’ll be awkward, so they would stop being friends and never see each other again and then the whole group will probably have to divide and obviously nobody would want to stay on Tony’s side so he wouldn’t have any friends anymore. Fuck.

No, no, stop, he was catastrophizing. Rational thoughts. Right. He still could downplay it, say some shit. His friendship with Bucky had survived worse stuff, and in the worst case scenario — he himself lived through way worse than a guy not talking to him. Right? Depressing, but right. Right.

He was an adult. He could do this.

In hindsight, Tony thought, maybe he could be an adult tomorrow, in the actual morning, when people generally talked to each other. After getting some sleep. But he was already here, on Bucky’s floor... somewhere. He probably should turn on the lights. Should he? No, he shouldn’t. It was night, after all, lights would wake somebody up and he’ll be yelled at. He could totally do this in the dark. He was awesome like this. It was way easier in the dark! He could feel furniture, probably a table? Tabley something, then something softer, then something also softer but different? And warmer? And—

“Tony?” Ooh it was Bucky. Right. Made sense. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi. Yes. Me. It’s really not easier in the dark, huh? J? Some help?”

The lights turned on softly, allowing Tony to see a room, a bedroom actually, and Bucky. Very shirtless Bucky. Staying very close, very shirtless and very ripped Bucky with soft-looking hair looking like he just got up which he probably just did and...

Right. Where was he?

“Sorry. Were you sleeping? I wanted to talk to you and maybe forgot it was night, I mean we do talk at night unusual amount, so it was, statistically, a logical assumption on my side and—”

“Uh-huh. No, not sleeping. What did you want to talk about?” And he looked so soft. Really, Tony didn’t want to ruin this. And maybe he could have some subtlety. Just kinda leading to the question first.

“Well. Nothing important. Just talk?”

“Oh, okay. You look pretty sleepy. Want a hot chocolate?”

What was it with Bucky always saying he needed sleep? Also he maybe decided to only hear the first three words of that sentence so that it could mean Bucky thought he looked pretty. It was a very rational and adult thing to do.

“Yes sir, thank you, sir! Feed me. No, wait, it’s a beverage. Water me? Hot chocolate me?”

Bucky laughed at him. But it was nice: Bucky had a nice laugh.

“So,” Bucky said. “What’s new in your life?”

“Eh. Nothing much. Same old. Social media stopped trying to tell me everything they thought about my love life. So, simple, really.”

Here — he brought up The Incident. Well, The Video, technically. His love life. It was a step in the right direction in this conversation, right?

Or it was a step to potentially remind Bucky later that he had no chill at all with this crush and had publicly admitted to wanting to have babies with him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Oh. Really? Any good advice there?” Bucky was weirdly tense. Did he not want to talk about it? Did he figure it out finally?

“Well, some. Mostly about just talking about my feelings, asking him out, all that shit,” he said, faking the calmness he absolutely did not feel.

“Ah. Well. And did you do it?”

Bucky did something kinda weird there, honestly. Tony didn’t think you should grab poor kitchen utensils that hard. Like he was really pissed. Why would he be pissed?

“Why are you pissed?” asked Tony, because Tony had not slept in a couple of days and lost all the already small amounts of brain to mouth filter he still had.

“I’m not,” Bucky told him, looking, well, still kinda pissed, but also slightly guilty about it.

Tony usually wasn’t that good with facial expressions beside anger, but guilt was one of Bucky’s default ones. It was easy.

“I have no right— no reason to be pissed.”

Huh.

Oh.

Oh.

He was jealous, the dumbass, wasn’t he? Thought Tony, and it was suddenly so easy to be an adult and do this, so he smiled, and came closer to Bucky and leaned in to kiss him.

~~~

Tony woke up in a bed.

It was definitely not his bed, but it was a bed, and by some clever deduction he came to a realisation that it was Bucky’s bed. He didn’t really remember anything after deciding to kiss the man, but he had high hopes. Because of the bed.

He was still in his clothes though, so it wasn’t like they had more unplanned action, but that was probably for the best, since Tony wanted to remember having sex with a guy he was maybe probably in strong like-like? Ugh. Well. All for the best.

What wasn’t for the best was the fact that he was in the bed alone. That was something that needed fixing, so he got up and went to find his boyf— his something. Bucky. Which was not so hard a feat; the guy was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.

Wow. Pancakes. Blueberry pancakes, from the sight of the fruit lying around. Huh. Perfect boyfriend material.

Tony smiled and went up to his— Bucky, hugging him from behind and nuzzling his neck. Bucky tensed.

Tony also tensed. Like chain reaction.

“Tony?” Asked Bucky very carefully.

“Yes?”

“What are you? Um. What?”

Oh. Oh. So maybe?...

“I thought, well, okay, nevermind, what actually happened last night? Because I remember that we were talking, and you were pissed about my video, and I thought, right, unimportant what I thought, but then I — I don’t really remember?”

Maybe he read this wrong and Bucky punched his face after the kiss. Ouch. He would probably feel that, but. Maybe—

“Um, yes, that happened, and then you kinda swayed and face-planted on me? You should really sleep more, honey.”

Oh. Ah. Well, that explains it. Also: honey?

Petnames were so much yes, wow, right, back on track. Bucky’s neck seemed really red now. Tony signed and dropped his head to Bucky’s back.

“Hm, yes, I was up for like two days? Probably more. Sorry, stressful days. What I wanted to do before the whole face-planting, passing-out-on-you thing was kiss you. Wanna turn around so I could try again?”

Bucky turned around. Really quickly. His face had some new emotion now, not a clear one, but probably one of the good ones. Probably the best one. The one Tony would like to be shown only to him.

So he stopped thinking and leaned in to kiss the guy of his dreams (again), and god it was perfect. So perfect, and real, and slightly awkward, because Bucky was really fucking tall, which was unfair, but also hot. But also okay, because Tony’s hand was in Bucky’s hair which was even softer than he thought, and Bucky’s hand found itself on Tony’s ass, which was also very hot and made Tony want to be bent over the nearest table, but he also wanted to walk around some tourist trap, snuggling and laughing and not being able to keep their hands from each other. Bucky made a sound right into Tony’s mouth, and it was a good sound, great sound, they should make an experiment documenting all the sounds Bucky could make like that. Tony had ideas for the stimuli, oh, yes, that was nice. Bucky wasn’t sloppy and trying to fucking eat his lips or whatever some guys called kissing. He was good, oh how good, he was responsive and eager in a way a man that spent forty days in the desert aches for water. He was slightly desperate. He was slightly forceful, but in a way that made Tony think he is to be worshipped, not restricted and sent to his knees.

But god, did he want to kneel for this man, oh for everything that is holy still in this rotten world what a kiss that was.

They paused for breath, panting, and red, and happy — so fucking happy. Bucky had that look on his face that made Tony want to squirm and blush (and he did not blush for years, there was really no need to start now).

“Oh fuck, the pancakes,” Bucky finally said, and Tony laughed and kissed him again.

~~~

“Mr. Stark, after your infamous talk about a mystery guy, everyone is really invested in the story. Any new developments for the fans?”

“Oh, yes. We’re dating now, everything’s good. I asked him out. Very smoothly actually. He was charmed momentarily. Couldn’t have gone better.”

[txemrn]

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: (mentioned) Drake Walker x MC (Riley Brooks)

Word Count: ~1140

Warning: Language, Alcoholism, mention of gambling

A/N: I am so excited to be bringing up the rear in @moodmusicmonday's special event "Luck of the Draw"! I was given the song "Ballroom Blitz" by Sweet, and it definitely threw me for a loop! But, it inspired this little fic, and I hope y'all enjoy! Big thanks to @kat-tia801 for taking a gander at this and helping me brainstorm the ending! Not truly beta'd so please forgive my mistakes! All characters belong to ours friends at Pixelberry.

~🖤~

An erratic ear-piercing hum overwhelms his fragile senses, startling him from his whiskey-induced slumber. He dares to open one of his swollen eyes, but the brilliance of day seals it shut. His limp body lays prostrate against a cold marble floor, the frigid chill of the ornate stone serving as a nice reprieve on his heated, ruddy skin.

“Mr. Walker?”

Drake jerks his body at the eerie sound of his name. He hesitantly lifts his head, squinting his eyes painfully as they adjust to the blurred lines of the sunlit room. He carefully sweeps his head to the left before taking in the scene to his right.

“Brooks? Li?”

No one is there.

He finds himself alone amongst the debris and disarray of a large ballroom. Broken glass, crumpled up napkins and cigarette butts litter the once pristine floor. With a deep grumble, he lays his aching head in his calloused hands. The familiar foul stench of barley and fermented sherry rests in his unkempt beard. The thunderous rhythm of his own pulse courses between his ears, stirring deep within him the one thing that can take away this discomfort.

A drink.

“Drake? C’mon. Get Up.”

The sudden strong hand of Drake’s best friend grips tightly to his elbow, pulling him to his knees. Still slumped over in a stupor, Drake finds his footing, finally standing up on his own two feet.

“Thanks, Li–” Drake feigns sobriety, “--’preciate that hand–”

“We need to talk, old friend. Now.”

“Now?” Drake chuckles. “The party is just getting started,” he jovially slaps his hand on the back of Liam’s shoulder, but the tall blond’s demeanor remains stoically grave. “Alright, alright,” Drake shoves his hands in his pockets, “let me grab some drinks–”

“No,” Liam growls. “No more drinks. No more excuses.” He hands over a thick, white envelope to Drake.

Drake’s face grows long. “What is this, Li?”

“Drake, you knew–”

“What the fuck is this, Liam?”

Liam sighs, grimly taking in the sight of what has become of his best friend. “Drake,” he clears his throat, “last night was the final straw. Actually, it’s been the final straw for a while.”

Drake leans in closely to Liam, “But–but, Liam, you can help me, right? Please–”

“Drake," Liam looks away, grief creeping into his voice. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Drake snarls.

Liam refuses to look at him. "I'm sorry." He whispers. "The council got involved. It's out of my hands."

Drake combs back his greasy chestnut locks before tearing open the letter. As he reads the news, red blotches of fury crawl up his neck, his wrathful eyes darting to Liam.

“Terminated.” Drake reads the word as if he were pointing a gun. “You hired me, Liam, so that I would take over Bastien’s spot someday. I was supposed to be your right hand man–”

“Yes,” Liam slows him down with a deep punch of his voice, “but that was two years ago Drake. A lot has changed. You have changed–”

“--Li, if it’s the drinking, then fine. I’ll quit drinking–”

Liam sighs, shaking his head. “You’ve been saying that–”

“--and this time I will. I-I promise. Please–”

“Drake, we offered treatment for this several times. I begged for you to go when–” Liam abruptly stops, staring remorsefully into his best friend’s bloodshot eyes. “--when Riley and the boys left.”

Drake looks down at his feet, slipping his fingers in the back pocket of his jeans. “Th-that’s not why she left. You,” he scoffs, “you and your fancy friends brought that girl here and made her think she was royalty–”

“I appointed you both as such, Drake! Have you forgotten?”

“--we didn’t need your fucking charity, Liam!”

“Charity?” Liam snickers under his breath. “You really want to talk charity with me?” Liam furiously shakes his head before peering vengefully at his friend. “Who gave you the money to repair your truck after you wrecked it after one of your benders–?”

“--oh, fuck off, Liam!”

“--and then this same person had to pay for several guards to keep silent and not turn you over to the police when they came snooping around with rumors of an accident. Oh, but, ‘we didn’t need your fucking charity, Liam’.” Liam starts to pace as he begins to raise his voice. “Or what about the time you gambled away your wedding band? The deed to your house? Your entire inheritance from your father? Christ, he must be so proud of you right now–”

“--Fuck you, Liam!”

“Who do you think is keeping you from being locked up right now for dissidence?”

With bated breath both men glare at one another with hatred, hands gripped into fists, sizing one another up.

“Mr. Walker?”

The haunting voice calls to him again, but Drake shakes it from his head as he remains focused on his best friend… his only friend.

Liam finally exhales the breath he was holding, a look of sadness crossing his face. “Drake, I–I don’t know what to do for you anymore.” The king begins to ring his fingers, his eyes welling with tears. “I–I don’t know what’s going to get your attention.”

“Li, I’m fine.”

Liam raises a sorrowful eyebrow, unable to respond.

“I’m serious, Li, I’m fine.”

Liam takes a deep breath. “Okay, old friend. We expect you out by the end of the day.” Liam turns to exit the trashed ballroom.

“Wait… wait, where am I supposed to go?” Drake calls out to Liam, but the king never turns back around.

“Liam? Liam?”

“Mr. Walker?”

Drake finally opens his eyes, an older, colorful woman pulling him from his memory. “Are you ready, Mr. Walker?” She flashes a kind, friendly smile before turning her attention to the crowd that has gathered. “Shall we get started, folks? We have a very special guest tonight…”

As she continues her introduction, Drake begins to ring his hands nervously. Feeling his heart race wildly in his chest, he starts to recollect how he used to cure his anxiety, searching for the answers at the bottom of bottles, spending most of his days actively dying rather than living.

But not anymore.

“... please welcome Drake, thirty days sober.”

With a roar of celebration from the audience, Drake stands, straightening the wrinkles from his slacks before approaching his sponsor. She hands him a special red chip, marked with a giant ‘30’ before giving Drake a tight hug.

Drake bites his lip, fidgeting with the trinket in his palm. As he finally looks out into the crowd, a sudden crooked smile grows across his face.

There in the back of the room was a familiar, tall blond beaming with pride. Liam. With a gentle nod of acknowledgement to his lifelong friend, Drake blows away his nervous jitters

“My name is Drake,” he takes a deep, trembling breath. “And… I’m an alcoholic.”

~🖤~

PERMA

@alexabeta @ao719 @charlotteg234 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @foreverethereal123 @issabees @jerzwriter @kat-tia801@khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @schnitzelbutterfingers @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR/TRH

@21-wishes @angelasscribbles @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @motorcitymademadame @princessleac1 @rubiwalker

Luck of the Draw

@ao719 @appiomofchoice @arjaywrites-deactivated20220329 @aussiegurl1234 @dcbbw @erenphoria @jerzwriter @kat-tia801 @lilyoffandoms @lucy-268 @nestledonthaveone @peonierose @peonyblossom @queenrileyrose @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @twinkleallnight @walkerdrakewalker